Thicker Than Water читать онлайн

Автор: Mike Carey
Обложка книги Thicker Than Water
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Открывайте «Thicker Than Water» и читайте — текст лежит здесь целиком, бесплатно, без регистраций и подтверждений номера. Жанр — Легкое чтение, Фэнтези, Городское фэнтези. Никаких обрезанных глав и предложений «оплати подписку, чтобы узнать, чем всё кончится»: книга представлена в том виде, в каком её написал Mike Carey.

Прежде чем нырять в первую главу, гляньте аннотацию или авторское предисловие — обычно там в двух абзацах понятно, о чём вообще речь, какой настрой и стоит ли это вашего вечера. Предисловие публикуем как есть, без редакторских пересказов от себя. Если описания пока нет или оно куцее — оставьте коммент, найдём и добавим.

Текст разбит на страницы: глазам так комфортнее, чем листать бесконечную ленту, и читается дольше без усталости. Место, где остановились, сохраняется автоматически — закрыли вкладку, вернулись через неделю, и страница откроется ровно та же. Шрифт регулируется, фон переключается между светлой и тёмной темой: вечером с тёмной экран меньше слепит, днём светлая привычнее.

Под книгой — отзывы тех, кто уже прочёл. Туда заглядывать полезно: иногда вылезают спорные смыслы, которые сам пропустил, иногда — категоричные «не моё, не тратьте время», и тоже информация. Дочитали «Thicker Than Water» — оставьте пару строк, кому-то это поможет решить.

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Межстрочный интервал

Unfortunately, Flat-face had lingered to make sure I stayed down, and he seemed to take my trying to get up as a deliberate provocation. I saw his foot draw back for a kick, aimed squarely at my head. I raised a feeble, futile arm to fend it off.

‘That’s enough,’ said a voice from over by the street doors. ‘Leave him alone.’

Flat-face lowered his foot and turned. Blinking my eyes semi-clear, I looked off in that direction too. The newcomer stood framed in the doorway, holding the double doors open with fully extended arms, but there was a querulous note in his voice that clashed badly with the dramatic pose.

It wasn’t the voice of a man who knows he’s going to be obeyed.

‘Who says it’s enough?’ demanded Flat-face in a dangerous basso rumble.

‘I do, obviously.’ The newcomer took a step towards us. ‘I mean it, Feld. Look at me if you don’t believe me.’

Flat-face stared down at the newcomer. I stared at him too and I probably would have gasped if I’d had any breath left to do it.

The big man didn’t gasp: in fact he didn’t respond in any way that I could see. But after a moment or two he flexed his arms and adjusted his cuffs, first left and then right.

‘I’ll take advice,’ he said in the same deep voice.

‘You do that,’ the other man agreed.

I watched Flat-face groggily from my floor-level ringside seat as he stepped carefully around the newcomer, staring at him the while as if to show that his readiness for mayhem hadn’t abated by a single degree.

Then he walked out into the night, opening the doors by the novel expedient of slamming his head into them so hard that they flew back to their full extent. They hit the wall on either side like a pistol shot in badly synched stereo.

My rescuer helped me to my feet, which took a couple of attempts because I was embarrassingly weak and groggy after my recent anoxic experiences.

‘Out for a late-night walk?’ I asked sardonically.

He shrugged.

‘Just be thankful I was here. You make friends everywhere you go, don’t you, Felix? You really should think twice before coming into a place like this at night.’"

"There were lights going on up above us now, and faces peering over the banisters on the upper levels. Only a natural impulse towards self-preservation had prevented anyone from coming down and seeing what all the noise was about, but it could only be a matter of moments.