The Mist and the Lightning. Part VI. Ви Корс
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Название: The Mist and the Lightning. Part VI
Автор: Ви Корс
Издательство: ЛитРес: Самиздат
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
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Lis could not read what heart it was promised to give them, the ending was irretrievably lost in the stomach of the dog.
Tol was looking at Lis with enthusiasm:
“She’ll come to barbecue today. She has promised! Do you want to arrange the foursome, to look what the girls will be doing?”
“Do I look like an idiot? Why does he think that I can be offered this?”
“Drink!” Asa irritably shoved Tol into the stomach with a glass poured to the brim. She was unhappy with the prolonged gap between the first and second, or the third drink.
“At least one sensible thought!” Lis drank in one gulp. He was still not getting drunk. He still wanted to leave.
“Do you want Asa?” Suddenly suggested Tol, casting the dictum away from himself. He was absolutely sincere in his impulse of hospitality.
And Asa smiled at Lis. She smiled beautifully, feminine. Lis really wanted to leave…
“I want her!”
“That's it! And when Lila arrives, she will start such tricks… By the way, you have already nagged her. Have you noticed how crazy she is?”
Asa sat down on Lis’ knees and stroked his hair: “Red,” she said.
“Yes, dear, fucking red. And the “reds”, as you know, are the most crappy race. They have a rotten gut, so they say.”
She leaned toward his mouth. Lis answered her kiss, it was better than…
He lifted Asa in his arms and went to the bed, threw her at the bed. Asa immediately knocked him over.
They tumbled for a long time, Lis felt excited, but couldn’t cum, no matter how he tried. Tol drank wine and didn’t intervene, watching them with a pleased grin, as if anticipating the coming unforgettable evening.
Asa also seems very impressed. She was sitting on top of him now, and galloping, galloping, galloping… And Lis’ horse was galloping. On flat terrain. Without any barriers.
He looked at her tattoos. Beautiful. A little darker than her dark skin, with swirling patterns. He recognized familiar themes in these interweaving. They mean something. Some are like those… this monogram on the thigh, slightly convex like that of…
And Lis timidly ran his hand over her tattooed thigh. He felt irregularities, light bulges of the picture, where the skin was apparently pierced deeper than necessary. Ahhh…
Satisfied, Asa fell off to the side. Tol stood at the foot of the bed, holding the puppy on its hind legs. The puppy twisted frantically, bending and trying to bite Tol’s fingers. He was too round and pot- bellied to get what he wanted.
“You know, Lis,” said Tol, not paying attention to the dog trying to get out, “I’ll tell you as my best friend! When you're not showing off, you're so cool!”
Arel sat on the bed:
“My stomach hurts,” he said plaintively.
“What's wrong with your stomach?” Nikto asked aloof, he was looking for something in his bag and it seemed he couldn’t find it.
Outside the window, a windy but clear spring day began.
“It hurts, awful. Maybe the stomach, I don’t know… And the same thing yesterday! What should I do?”
“Smoke and everything will pass.” “Make me a smoke, Nick.”
“And “hard” does not suit you?”
“I love grass more. I like “hard” less. It’s you who likes “hard”.”
“Okay, now… wait…” Nikto stopped rummaging in his bag, went to the table and poured some grass on a sheet of paper.
“Hey?! What are you doing there? Nik, I think this is some important document. Are you going to tear it up?”
“I will just pin on it and that’s it. I am not going to tear anything.”
“Well, pin it… Arel tightened again, hugging his long-suffering belly with both hands. “Or maybe…” he began timidly after a while.
“No.”
Arel sighed heavily.
Nikto laughed, bowing his head over the paper and reading it: “Twelve days, three hours.”
“What?”
“This paper. Document,” Nikto handed it to Arel. Arel indifferently took the sheet:
“Ahhhh…” he said, “it was Enriki who gave me that. The decree. He grunted scornfully. Those freaks imposed a fine!”
“You’re taking time, it’s dangerous.” Arel cocked his head:
“What do you suggest?! To give you away?!” He asked in exasperation. Nikto looked down, handing Arel a clogged cigarette:
“Hold on.”
Arel literally snatched it from Nikto’s fingers.
“Why did they set such a deadline?” Nikto asked. “Why such strange numbers, twelve days, three hours?”
Arel blew smoke, and handed the jamb back to Nikto: “Will you?”
Nikto nodded.
“They are morons,” Arel continued, “for me their stupid orders mean nothing. Twelve days, thirteen days, a week. I don’t give a shit… shi-i-i- t…”
“It just sounds so cool – twelve days, three hours, they should have written twelve minutes, three seconds!”
“Yes, fucked up,” agreed Arel, taking the cigarette again and taking a deep drag.
“They first demanded for a week or something,” he continued after a while, when he blew smoke. “Then they realized that it was pointless, they wrote this demand. Knowing fully well that this was pointless. They just supposedly do everything according to the law. First warning, second, third. Then a fine.”
“And what next is the law? Nikto asked. “When these twelve days end?” “Next? Guard is next, Nik…”
Nikto shook his head.
“I have a finale in the “Lower” Coliseum.” “I know.”
“It sucks…” Nikto returned to his bag.
“It’s СКАЧАТЬ