Ring of Madness

  We need a more forceful victim. At least a more religious victim.

  And the sooner, the better!

  I want a new pussy body! I wanna walk on the jessel!

  I want to live!

  People are just pathetic one-day stands. How many people are going to die for my purpose? They're sssossessed like my food...

  Chapter 7.

  Adaptation of dragons in democratic Russia.

  September 3, Friday

  It's not sugar-free this morning. Namely, because I was awakened by a wild scream.

  - No!!! No, don't! Don't!!! Jean!!! Don't die!!!!

  Charles was yelling and rattling on the bed. Well, at least it's wide. I didn't get my foot on anything valuable. But the scream didn't help either. I knew I couldn't get to the dragon. So instead of the acoustic effect, I had to shake a man's shoulder hard. Four times. Then Charles opened his eyes and stared at me.

  - You... I...

  Boom! Always said that one kick in the ear works better than a hundred kind words. With a voice, I would have woken him up a long time now. One, two, and it's done.

  Gradually, the memory was returning to the semidragon. There was a realization in the eyes that he was here. I am here. Alfonso is there. And everything would remain the same. I nodded to the dragon to confirm it, and he looked at me questioningly.

  - Good morning," I said, understanding his fears. Come, believe me, the question is that freedom is not a dream. - Mind who gets up first is the first to shower.

  And she jumped out of bed.

  - We have a big program for today. What do you even know how to do? From useful things in the farm?

  - Not much," Charles smiled crookedly, throwing the blanket back and also putting his feet down on the floor. - Alfonso was no supporter of education.

  - In general - or when it comes to you?

  - Both of them...

  - You got the power, you don't need it?

  - Why learn from those you can just kill?

  - You can kill us. But it's difficult," I said. - Keep in mind, it's my day off, that is, I'm skipping, and tomorrow I go to study. Alphonse is alphonse, and I have a political science rerun on my nose. Oh, shit.

  And I jumped in the shower.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, I was ready to accept fate. The pancake dough was easy to stir. And leave it to rise a little bit. And standing in the kitchen and boiling pasta (thanks to the producers of ready-made sauces), I realized that life is not a bad thing.

  Is it bad for breakfast? That's silly! Do you have any idea how much effort I spend with different teeth? You're eating an elephant!

  The pasta was drained and covered with a lid so it wouldn't get too cold. So I threw two pans on the stove. Yeah, the pancakes won't be too lush. But after Alfonso Charles's life, he wouldn't ask me for a little pikeperch anaurélle or any other joy. My culinary exertions will do.

  Charles went to the shower, too, and there was water noise. When he appeared in the kitchen, smoothing wet hair with his palm, everything was already ready and spread out on plates.

  - I have a proposition," I said, winding the pasta on the fork. - Today I'm skipping, but tomorrow I can't. I have three couples at the institute, and ideally a retake in political science. - From the look on the werewolf's face, that didn't tell him anything. Yeah, it's gonna take a long time to civilize him. - Well, you should do something while I'm gone. Have you learned the computer?

  - No, Charles shook his head.

  Looking at him, I felt like a great cook. I even have boiled potatoes that sometimes stick, and I could still cook pasta. And ready-made sauces are a complete chemical. I keep trying to dissolve them in a bucket and spray the potatoes. I bet they're gonna kill the Colorado potato beetle, huh? But Charles cracked ordinary spaghetti with such a blissful expression on his face that it seemed - on the plate there were exquisite food. Truffles and foie gras minimum.

  - Then now, while we're waiting for the clothes, I'll teach you how to wash dishes and climb the net.

  - I can do the dishes anyway. By the way, can I have some more?

  - Put it down yourself. The pot's on the stove, everything else is in the fridge. Eat whatever you want.

  Charles took advantage of the offer and pulled the remnants of smoked chicken out of the fridge.

  May I?

  - If you ask stupid questions, I'll be offended. Of course you can. Okay. Then I'll do the dishes in half. And we'll go online.

  - Where?

  - What?

  - Well, the network - where? Outside?

  I snorted. Right. Slang. Say to the man, "My mother died." If you get sympathy, you're gonna get sympathy for "dead." Oh, my mother! All I did was cut the phrase "My mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother." By the way, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh...

  - I mean the Internet. Are you familiar with it?

  - No.

  - You'll learn. At the same time, you'll have something to do while I'm gone. As long as Alfonso's here, you'd better either be with me or at my house. Or they'll catch you in the street, take you away like a Caucasian prisoner - and then yell that you can't! And when this vamp delegation gets out of the way you are civilized, you will get a profession and let's go free.

  - Julia... - Charles looked at me with serious purple-purple eyes. - And what happened to you, that you decided to get me out?

  - What happened?

  Two paintings flashed before my eyes. The first was Charles, tied up, with a whip on his back. The second one...

  I'm pulling towards the executioner. The man on the torture table moans weakly - and I approach him. Only this is not a man. This is a vampire. Fangs look out from under the mutilated lips. They seem unusually white against a bloody face. Too white. He only has one canine left. His teeth are excruciatingly shining - and you can see that the other one was knocked out earlier.

  The vampire's hands and feet are in place, they weren't cut off, but the skin was literally cut into pieces. There was no living space left on his face. He was just skinned. So not simply, but slowly and tastefully.

  The fingernails on your hands have also been removed. The fingers look most like an anatomical manual. All muscles, vessels and nerves are like in the palm of my hand.

  Danielle... my beloved... my poor man, for what!?

  I got up sharply from the table. My appetite's gone.

  - I hate it when people are tortured. Kill them, please. I killed myself. But I didn't. I didn't torture you. I didn't hurt you to hurt you. It's despicable.

  I threw a plate in the sink. The plate said "grubbish" and fell to pieces. Well, that's fine. We'll have to wash less. I took out some of the remains of the dishes and threw them in the trash. Charles wouldn't talk for seconds. Then he shyly asked:

  - Yulia, do you know what he was bullying me for?

  - For pretty eyes?

  - No. I killed my brother.

  I can't say the news has shocked me. I would have nailed the same Slava myself. Especially after his set-up with this "paddy"! But...

  - And who was this brother Alfonso da Silva?

  - Nobody. I used to belong to another vampire. And then he gave me to Alfonso. And he continued his work.

  - That is - I was torturing you so that the Inquisitors would die of envy and rush to rewrite the "Witch Hammer". Wouldn't they?

  Charles grinned crookedly.

  - Yes.

  - How long have you been with him?

  - At Alfonso's?

  - Yeah. At least.

  - It seems... that was the fifteenth century...

  - We get fifty times less for murder," I informed. - If not a hundred. - And I couldn't help myself. - Jean, was that your brother?

  - Yeah. Uh...

  - You were screaming in your sleep. Nightmares?

  - Yes.

  - Me, too. So don't be surprised if I yell
at you at night. It happens.

  - Are you someone... Danielle?

  - Yes. Alfonso said?

  - He discussed a lot in front of me. I was considered a talking thing. You're not gonna hide from a boxing pear, are you?

  - Okay. Can you tell me?

  - I can, - Charles sighed. - Only you won't be happy about it.

  - Why?

  - Because Alfonso is terribly angry with Mieczysław. And he's gonna have a full program of sticks in his wheels. Ramirez promised him a lot. Diego was actually his lover once. And this lover of his... - Charles clearly swallowed a bad epithet, - does not forget. That's why Alfonso would have shit on you at the most. And now me, too. He'll want me back in the first place. The best way to get the old victim back, and get a new one, is to destroy Mieczysław. You'll lose your master and your protection. I can be taken away, you can either be killed or you can be subordinated. Do you like it?

  I listened to a short and jerky monologue without much feeling.

  - I wish you hadn't said anything new," I said. - That's what Me and Mieczysław understood yesterday.

  - And what are you going to do?

  I sighed.

  - It's as simple as that. It's not a setup.

  - Will it succeed?

  - And if we fail, you and I will be on the same chain. So eat it while you can. - I put a washed plate in the dryer. - If you eat, come into the living room. I'll teach you.

  I haven't talked about the second option yet. And he said I couldn't resist meeting Alfonso da Silva. If he demands Charles back. If my Beast does decide to chew up an under-eaten vampire...

  Anyway, if I kill a member of the Vampire Council, I won't have to sit on the chain.

  I'll just get killed.

  Not the worst alternative, by the way.

  Knowing yourself...

  I would've done a millionth of what I did to Charles, and I couldn't stand it with Daniel either.

  * * *

  It was crowded and interesting on the Internet. There was a new detective on the library site. He also appeared in stores - and even earlier, but to pay a hundred and a half for a book - I was pressed by a toad. And the author wasn't so much.

  I know, now they're going to tell me - at least write the instructions for using toilet paper first, and then criticize it. Because the smart ones are too old. And the Internet has ruined us. We download whatever we want, and they don't give money to the authors because of it. And the bookstores will go bankrupt!

  On the other hand!

  I remember perfectly well the time the book was worth a ten! And now it's a hundred and fifty re. And Perumov gets so much money! Almost three hundred!

  I don't print money! And I don't even make money yet! And I can't ask my grandfather. It's enough that I get paid for my apartment and food!

  So what's left?

  Only swing from the Internet - and bless the pirates!

  And if you're serious... Here, there's a new author. And there's a lot of them right now. And how do you make sure he's a good writer? First throw away 150 rubles for a book, and then throw away a book, if the author does not like it? Excuse me. I'm not that rich!

  That's why I'm personally comfortable with this option. I read a pirated copy on the Internet. If I like the book so much that I can not live without it - I either download it (by the way - also not always free!), or buy it in paper version! And it occupies a place on the shelf, in the computer and in the heart of the reader. And if you do not like it - delete and forget!

  And I don't care about the author's spin!

  And if publishers are so mad, you could trade in electronic texts. Or you could just create an electronic wallet on the author's page. Some have already done that.

  Or not inflate the prices of books! I don't know how much a single volume costs, but I strongly suspect it's cheaper than in stores. Three times as cheap. Or four.

  And if I'm reprimanded now, "Taxes, fees, income, it's hard for them too..."

  And why do I have to pay at my own expense not only for the shop, but also for a bunch of official vultures? We'll have one official per person soon enough! It's a fucking divorce!

  So I'm downloading pirate texts. And I thank the pirates. And I rejoice when I read a free book!

  And I will be glad!

  Charles came neatly at the moment when the protagonist realized that her husband at the fortieth anniversary of the horns. But while she was sitting in an ambush to catch him on the hot (that is, on his mistress) and break both legs, someone again (for the third time) bumped her on the head. This time the heroine was saved by a hat with cherries.

  - How many times do you think a person can be hit on the head without harming their health?

  - Depends on how you hit it. And who.

  - The heroine of the book. She's already been knocked three times - and at least she hasn't.

  I looked at the werewolf's deep face and shook my head.

  - Okay, let's not talk about sad. Sit down next to me, let's start learning. It's a computer. It's a computer. It's a poke in the biggest button with the most comfortable finger. Next to it is the mains filter and uninterruptible. This is in case of another Chubais' meanness.

  - Which one?

  - The lights go out, you'll understand. You have to turn them on, too...

  The briefing lasted almost an hour. They learned to use e-mail, sent to Tanka Charles' size - height, waist size - chest - hips, leg size. A little hanged in the net and almost caught a couple of viruses. And then the doorbell rang. And Tanya fell into the apartment.

  - Hello to the winner of the Chief Bloodsucker!

  I pulled my slippers off my foot and threw them in the direction of the sound.

  - Aha! Are your eyes hurting?!

  - And what is your truth!?

  - Why didn't you get him!?

  - What!? - Charles has turned around.

  - That's it! You just don't know Yulka. I wish I'd killed her without looking.

  - It's a councilman, separately, how particularly stupid, Charles explained. - What could Julia have done?

  - It's not enough for Yulka. At least you need your hands there.

  I threw a second slipper at a werewolf.

  - I'll ask for no nonsense.

  - Okay. Then let's take care of you, - Tatiana came to Charles and measured him with a frank look. - Take off your clothes.

  - What for?

  - I will rape, - Tatiana frankly abused.

  I looked into Charles's confused eyes and took pity.

  - Tanya, have a conscience. Charles is already confused.

  - So let him pack up and take off his clothes.

  - What for!? - Half a dragon woke up.

  - Because there's no way to measure this outrage.

  - Did you bring anything yet? - I was wondering.

  - Yeah. Mecislav gave instructions yesterday, and we decided not to call you. It was easier to go into the room to this Alphonse unhappy - and find him there, - careless poke with his thumb towards Charles, - clothes. And take the same size. Today we received confirmation from you of our mind and his size, threw half of the clothes aside, and the other one came with a delivery at home. Appreciate it!

  - Priceless you are ours! Invaluable! Due to the lack of funds from the IMF! Show us what you've brought.

  Charles pulled his shirt off.

  - Fuck... fuck!

  - Here...

  Tank and I gave it to one voice.

  Yesterday, I just didn't notice it. Behind the fresh traces and wounds. I wasn't even looking. There was no case today, either.

  Charles' whole body was scarred. It's just everything. Small and large, wide and narrow, fresh and old - they crawled on top of each other, crossed, woven together in a disgusting pattern. The wounds have already healed - werewolves regenerate quickly, but what was before ... traces are not so easy to wipe away.

  And behind every scar there was pain.

  Every scar was once a living wound. Wearing, hurtin
g, twitching, bleeding... Behind every scar was a memory of the blow. The humiliation. The way a man has been slowly and methodically broken for centuries.

  Motherfucker!

  I'd love to visit Alfonso with the good uncles of the IPF!

  - What do we do to keep werewolves from healing their wounds and leaving scars? - Tatiana whispered in shock.

  - I'm not a true werewolf," said Charles, frowning. - But silver has the same effect on me. The silver whip, the silver dust rubbed into the wounds, the cauterization with the red-hot silver bar...

  - Better not tell," I raised my hand. - And so... nauseous. Scum this Alphonse!

  - and - supported Tanya. - Shirts with short sleeves are cancelled. Divers, long sleeves, sweaters, suits, perhaps something mesh...

  - Yeah. You can't do plastic here. Except for the whole body at once.

  - Don't," Charles asked.

  Tanya friendly slammed him on the shoulder and stretched out a healthy bag.

  - Get in the tub and start there. Now Leshka will bring the rest.

  - You turned him into a camel...

  - And let him first prove that he's not a camel...

  The steps of a heavily loaded werewolf have already rattled up the stairs.

  The fitting took three hours. Charles hissed, but he didn't resist much. I think he was just enjoying everything... normal. After talking to Alfonso, it's no surprise.

  As a result, the semi-dragon became the owner of a pair of denim suits in blue and black - jeans and jacket, three strict suits in black and grey, a dozen shirts, a pair of light pants and two sports suits.

  A separate list of leather pants - with and without rhinestones, silk tights, psychedelic shirts and styles - were to the taste of Mieczysław. So to speak, vampire parade and exiting. Nothing, it could have been worse.

  The shoes were attached. The guys brought enough summer stuff, but the shirts with open sleeves didn't go through because of the scars. We'll have to experiment. Something linen. Or a mesh. Or silk. Charles really left a couple of shirts. I mean, do you have to wear something at home, too?

  Goodbye, Tatiana, who gave us a goodbye to her ride and attempts to get Charles to strip dance or at least not run to change into a bath (not in front of the mirror? You think I haven't seen men in their pants?! Yes, I've seen them even without underwear!) issued a half-dragon credit card.