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mean literally pushing him. How'd you like it if he put his big ole farm boy mitts on your face and
shoved?"
"I would love that," Sinclair replied with scary sincerity.
"Is that the stench of a dead goat I smell, or your testosterone? Cripes, throttle back. Besides, you're
missing my point. I'm in here with you, aren't I? I don't go to Nick's place or climb into Marc's bed I
notice you're not weird about Marc "
"Is that supposed to be a joke? I'd be infinitely more worried about Marc if we were the same suit size."
Hmm, good point. Moving on! "Maybe one of my undead superpowers is to make gay people straight,
but I don't see you worrying too much about it."
"No," he agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed and drumming the fingers of his left hand on his right
knee. "I don't worry too much about it."
"Right!"
"Also, you are not undressing nearly quickly enough."
"And I'm not in the Bee's bed, wherever that one even is "
"Second floor. Third one down the hall, right side."
"See? I should be worried aboutyou sleeping with him, you're so obsessed."
"Territorial," he conceded. "Not obsessed."
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"But it's you I want to be with did we not figure this all out in October?" I waved my arms, which, as I
was unbuttoning, napped like a clothesline in a windstorm. "It'syour voice I hear in my head, nobody
else's. That should prove you've got nothing to worry about."
"What?" Oh, fuck.
Chapter 17
"Now, don't freak out." Stupid, stupid! I'd meant to tell him, but not likethis . I was thinking more along
the lines of giving him a giant cookie frosted with "I can hear you in my head, lover!" Maybe for
Valentine's Day. Twenty years from now.
"What did you say?"
"Okay, it's like this." I hurried over and sat beside him on my our! bed, and flung my arms around his
shoulders, which wasn't unlike hugging the big oak tree in the backyard. "When we make love, I can hear
what you're thinking. It's in my head."
Nothing. He sat stiffly, like we were playing statues.
I hugged harder. "And the thing is, I've been trying to figure out the right time to tell you, and there just
never was one. But now that I see how insec how worried you are about our houseguest, I figured it
would be a good time toprove my love and how much we aremeant to be together because in my
whole life and death, I never heard anybody in my head, ever, not one time."
If anything, he got stiffer. "You hear. Me. In your. Head?" he asked carefully.
"Yes. But only during lovemaking. Never before and never after. I mean, I have no idea what you're
thinking right now. Although, uh, I can probably figure it out."
"For. How. Long?"
"Since that time in the pool the first time. And right up until& well, earlier. In the parlor, after Margaret
left."
"Marjorie," he corrected automatically. He pried my hands off him and pulled my arms away.
"Don't be mad," I said, probably the stupidest line ever, right up there with, "she didn't mean anything to
me."
He left.
I sat there and stared at the open doorway. Okay, I knew he wasn't going to take the news well, and I
told him in a shitty way. At least I hadn't told him out of spite. But still he'd had no prep at all. And now
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he had left, walked out.
I got ahold of myself. I wasn't going to sit on the bed cowering and waiting for him to come back and
yell at me, or possibly throw a credenza at me. I jumped to my feet and ran to the door& where I
promptly smacked so hard into the returning Sinclair I hit the floor like a backhanded pancake.
"Damn," I gasped. "You must have really tooled up those stairs."
"This is no time for one of your amusing pratfalls," he snapped. He stepped over me (he didn't even help
me up!) and dropped something big on the bed, something that gave off its own dust.
I was totally horrified to see it was the Book of the Dead.
"Get that thing off my sheets," I ordered. "I just got those last week at Target! They're flannel!"
He ignored me, bent over the book, and flipped through it. Finally (a miracle with neither a table of
contents nor an index) he got to the yucky nasty page he wanted, straightened, and pointed.
"What? You want me to& forget it, no way. I'm done with that hey!" He'd crossed the room in a
blink, seized my arm, and dragged me over to the Book. "Okay,okay , don'tpull . These are new, too."
I bent over the horrible, horrible thing, written in blood by an insane vampire who could see the future.
And never spell-checked, I might add, just to add to the overall fun.
"Okay, here we go here? Okay. 'And the Queene shall noe the dead, all the dead, and neither shall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]