How is he?"
"Who?"
"Your father."
Of all the things Claire had expected, that wasn't it, and it took her a minute of honest puzzlement to try to work out why someone like Frank Collins would even care.
She finally said,"He's doing okay. I talked to my mom yesterday; the doctors think they can fix his heart problem. He's feeling a lot better."
Frank nodded. "Good. Family's important," he said. "Maybe too important, sometimes. Iknow how much I screwed it up with Shane. Can't blame the kid for hating me now."
It was almost a . . . question? And if it was a question, what could Claire say?
Yeah, he hates your guts. That probably wasn't what Frank was hoping to hear.
"Just take care of him," she said. "That's what you're supposed to do. Stop using him, and start protecting him. I know he thinks he doesn't need it, but sometimes he does. Sometimes we all do."
Now Frank did look up, and Claire felt a blush building in her face as he stared at her like he was actually seeing her for a change.
"He did okay," Shane's dad finally said. "Picking you.
Patrick walked in dressed in an utterly unmentionable bathrobe. I was pretty sure that Disney wouldn’t have approved of what their cartoon characters were doing on that dark blue satin background. On the other hand, I was really glad he had on the bathrobe.
Rachel CaineYou’re bleeding all over my couch.” I groaned.
“Excuse the hell out of me.
I stopped in the full force of a patch of sunlight in the lobby window and let my skin soak up the energy. I hadn’t realized I needed it until it reached inside and stilled me in a way that only David’s touch had been able to achieve. “Why does that feel so good?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because we’ve been shut in a room for
days.”
“Like calls to like,” he said. “You’re made of fire now.”
“So I’m going to feel like this every time I pass an open flame? Great. Firegasm.
Sorry, is my new Djinn name Mushroom ? Because I don’t like being kept in the dark and fed bullshit, David. Just so you know.
Rachel CaineTell me something about yourself.” “I’d rather save the small talk.” “There’s no need to be rude, child, and believe me, I’m asking for a reason. Tell me something about yourself. Anything.”
“I’m twenty-eight . . .”
He rejected that one out of hand. “Something personal. Something . . . interior. Tell me something you love.”
I thought about it for a long few seconds, then said, “Ralph Lauren’s summer line this year. Not the spring collection, which was way too pastel, and the winter was really crappy, all bland browns and grays. But he’s got some good fabrics this summer, kind of a hot tangerine matched with dull red. Only he skirts, though. Hiscapri pants are for shit. Pockets? Who wants pockets on capri pants? What woman in her right mind puts extra fabric on her hips?”
There was a long and ringing silence. Patrick’s eyes were wide and rather frightened.
He finally cleared
his throat and said, “Anything else apart from fashion?”
“What do you want me to say? Puppies? Fluffy kittens? Babies?”
“Let’s try something simple. Your favorite food.”
I rolled my eyes. “Chocolate.” Duh .
Paul?” I said.
My voice shook a little. “It’s Jo.” Silence. I couldn’t tell what was happening on the other end.
Then, very quietly, “Jesus.”
“No, just Joanne, although I can see how you might make the mistake, coming back from the dead and all.
Is it arrogance if one is truly superior?
Rachel Cainealso,' Rodriguez finished, 'you looked totally hot on tv, and your sister looks pretty good naked. Now. Tell me about what really happened with Quinn.
Rachel CaineStichwörter: worth-a-giggle
Myrnin was heading for Kim when she picked up a crossbow lying on a table nearby and shot him pointblank in the chest.
He staggered backward, muttered, "Not again
Stichwörter: vampires
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