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Название книги: The Weight of Souls
Автор(ы): Bryony Pearce
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Weight-of-Souls-165390.html
1
IT’S COMING TO TAKE YOU AWAY
Dead men take me to the nicest places.
I pulled my hood further over my eyes and glowered at the block of flats. Stained net curtains billowed from otherwise bare windows and, on half the balconies, shirts and greying underwear were hanging out to dry. My bones thrummed with a deep bass that seemed to boom through the tarmac itself; the music actually came through an open window on the ground floor.
It was twilight but the streetlights hadn’t yet lit. Most of them were smashed. On my way through the estate I’d walked through shards of glass like crackling bird bones. The car park was lit by a burning trash can and acrid smoke stung tears from my eyes. I shifted further from the drifting ash without taking my eyes from the third floor flat I was staking out.
The wall in front of me was daubed with graffiti: slogans, gang signs and a portrait of a dark-eyed boy with a date beneath his shoulders. But I wasn’t here for Cayden’s killers; h
Название книги: The Weight of Souls
Автор(ы): Bryony Pearce
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Weight-of-Souls-165390.html
1
IT’S COMING TO TAKE YOU AWAY
Dead men take me to the nicest places.
I pulled my hood further over my eyes and glowered at the block of flats. Stained net curtains billowed from otherwise bare windows and, on half the balconies, shirts and greying underwear were hanging out to dry. My bones thrummed with a deep bass that seemed to boom through the tarmac itself; the music actually came through an open window on the ground floor.
It was twilight but the streetlights hadn’t yet lit. Most of them were smashed. On my way through the estate I’d walked through shards of glass like crackling bird bones. The car park was lit by a burning trash can and acrid smoke stung tears from my eyes. I shifted further from the drifting ash without taking my eyes from the third floor flat I was staking out.
The wall in front of me was daubed with graffiti: slogans, gang signs and a portrait of a dark-eyed boy with a date beneath his shoulders. But I wasn’t here for Cayden’s killers; h
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