Читать книгу Galilee - Clive Barker, Clive Barker - Страница 34

Rachel did her best with all this, but it was hard—even accepting that she’d been a consumer of this nonsense herself, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Now it was her face people were staring at as they waited at the supermarket checkout, her life they were half-believing these lies about. All the detachment she was able to muster didn’t spare her the hurt of that.

“What are you doing even looking at that shit?” Mitchell asked her when she raised the subject over dinner that night. The establishment was Luther’s, an intimate restaurant round the corner from Mitchell’s apartment on Park Avenue.

“They could be saying anything,” Rachel said. She was close to tears. “Not just about me. About my mother or my sister or you.”

“We’ve got lawyers watching them all the time. If Cecil felt they were going too far—”

“Too far? What’s too far?”

“Something worth fighting over,” Mitchell said. He reached over and took hold of her hand.

“It’s not worth crying about, baby,” he said softly. “They’re just stupid people who don’t have anything better to do than try and tear other people down. The thing is: they can’t do it. Not to us. Not to the Gearys. We’re stronger than that.”

“I know…” Rachel said, wiping her nose. “I want to be strong, but—”

“I don’t want to hear but, baby,” he said, his tone still tender despite the toughness of the sentiment. “You’ve got to be strong, because people are looking at you. You’re a princess.”

“I don’t feel much like a princess right now.”

He looked disappointed. He pushed the plate of kidneys away, and put his hand to his face. “Then I’m not doing my job,” he said. She stared at him, puzzled. “It’s my job to make you feel like a princess. My princess. What can I do?” He looked up at her, with a kind of sweet desperation on his face. “Tell me: what can I do?”

“Just love me,” she said.

“I do. Honey, I do.”

“I know you do.”

“And I hate it that those sleazeballs are giving you grief, but they can’t touch you, honey. Not really. They can spit and they shout but they can’t touch you.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s my job,” he said. “Nobody gets to touch you but me.”

She felt a subtle tremor in her body, as though his hands had reached out and stroked her between her legs. He knew what he’d done too. He passed his tongue, oh-so-lightly, over his lower lip, wetting it.

“You want to know a secret?” he said, leaning closer to her.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re all afraid of us.”

“Who?”

“Everybody,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers. “We’re not like them, and they know it. We’re Gearys. They’re not. We’ve got power. They haven’t. That makes them afraid. So you have to let them give vent once in a while. If they didn’t do that they’d go crazy.” Rachel nodded; it made sense to her. A few months ago, it wouldn’t have done, but now it did.

“I won’t let it bother me any more,” she said. “And if it does bother me I’ll shut up about it.”

“You’re quite a gal, you know that?” he said. “That’s what Cadmus said about you after his birthday party.”

“He barely spoke to me.”

“He’s got eyes. ‘She’s quite a gal,’ he said. ‘She’s got the right stuff to be a Geary.’ He’s right. You do. And you know what? Once you’re a member of this family, nothing can hurt you. Nothing. You’re untouchable. I swear, on my life. That’s how it works when you’re a Geary. And that’s what you’re going to be in nine weeks. A Geary. Forever and always.”