Dead Men's s Boots — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

More of them are taking up positions in the grounds. They seem to know what they’re doing. Two or three men in a group, each group in line of sight of at least two others.’

‘Hired security,’ I said. ‘Probably black-market, if they’re carrying guns.’

‘They’re carrying rifles,’ Moloch murmured. ‘They have handguns in their belts. Also grenades.’

I shrugged, as nonchalantly as I could. ‘It makes sense,’ I said. ‘This is when our dead-guy mafia are at their weakest – individually and as a group.’

‘In what way?’ Juliet demanded.

‘Well, they all need to tie up and gag their inner hostages again, so I’d guess at least some of their strength has to be taken up in keeping a tight hold on the bodies they’re wearing. After the ritual, they’re okay again for the next month. And they’re also vulnerable because they’re all here together. They know damn well that if anyone wants to take them out, this is the best time to do it. Hence the paranoid security. We should be encouraged by it, really. It shows that they’re scared.’

‘It also shows that they’re neither stupid nor blind,’ Juliet pointed out. ‘We’d have a lot more chance of success if they were both.’

I didn’t answer. I was looking down at the wooden planks of the scaffolding beneath my feet, which had just shifted in the wind. This was where Doug Hunter’s life had taken a turn for the worse, I now knew. I’d called Jan to check the hypothesis, but I’d already known what her answer would be. This was the last place he’d worked, and on the day he sprained his ankle he’d walked next door to the crematorium to see if he could beg, borrow or requisition a first-aid kit. And that was the last thing he’d done as himself.

It felt like a bad omen, suddenly: to be launching our own attack from a place with a history like that. I wanted to get out of here and make a start, because the sooner we made a start the sooner the whole thing would be over.

But as I took a step towards the ladder Juliet put out a hand and clamped it down on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

‘Castor,’ she saiãhe d. ‘There’s something you still need to do up here. You –’ this was to Moloch ‘– go down and wait for us at the bottom. We’ll join you in about five minutes.’

Moloch bared his teeth. ‘There shouldn’t be any secrets between allies,’ he said. ‘Whatever you’ve got to say, we should all hear.’

‘I don’t have anything to say,’ Juliet told him. ‘As far as that goes, I’m sure your ears are keen enough to pick up everything that goes on up here. But you don’t get to watch.’

Moloch said nothing. With visible reluctance he put his feet on the ladder and started to descend.

I stared at Juliet. She stared back. The elevator in my stomach slipped its cables and plunged precipitately to the bottom of its shaft.

‘You’re still weak,’ Juliet said.

‘Yeah,’ I said, my voice sounding slightly strangled and strained in my own ears. ‘I’ve been better.’

‘You may not know this, Castor, but I can give as well as take.’

For a few seconds I just kept staring. I was rummaging in my head for words. There were no words left. ‘You can-?’

‘When I feed, I take the strength, the life and the soul from the men I fuck. I started to do it to you once, so I’m sure you remember.’

I nodded. Waking in the dark, sweat cold on my face and chest, heart hammering an overclocked suburban mambo, I remembered most nights.

‘I’m not going to make love with you. It would hurt Susan if she knew, and I prefer not to lie to her. But I am going to lend you some strength to work with. It might make the difference between you living and dying tonight.’

Two steps brought her up close to me, and her eyes were staring directly into mine. Point-blank. Point-singularity, her pupils two black holes that dragged me in not against my will but using my will to fuel their own local gravity.

She put one hand on the back of my neck, drawing me close. Our lips met.

At least, I assume they met. If hypnotherapy was guaranteed to help me to remember, I’d sign up for a course today and happily pay whatever it cost up to and including my right arm. But while I can summon up without even trying every agonising detail of the night when Juliet tried to rape and devour me, the only thing I remember about that kiss is a sensation like the whole of my body being melted, rendered like tallow, blasted into steam and then falling like molten rain back into the exact same place I’d been standing. I don’t even know how long it took: it wasn’t the sort of thing that had a time signature on it. It was there, it was everywhere and then it was over. Juliet was stepping away from me towards the ladder and I was standing there alone, each cell of my body separately and searingly aware of the cold night air touching it.