The Lost Soul (666 Park Avenue 3) by Pierce Gabriella

Author:Pierce, Gabriella [Pierce, Gabriella]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781780339481
Publisher: Constable Robinson
Published: 2013-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

THE CAT HISSED, and Jane flipped over, startled out of her nightmare-filled sleep.

‘Ow,’ Maeve remarked crossly, setting a mug of tea on the white-painted dresser and sucking on the skin of her hand where some had spilled.

‘Sorry,’ Jane mumbled, although her contrary, sleep-deprived side wanted to point out that Maeve was the one who had walked into her room unannounced. She yanked her hair into a messy bun while the cat turned in a couple of huffy circles and plunked back down onto her legs.

Sunlight streamed onto a couple of deep-blue throw rugs scattered across the white-painted floorboards. The bedspread and cushion on the rocking chair in the corner were white, but all their wood had been painted a rich, matching blue, which was echoed in the thin molding at the top of the walls. It was like she had slept inside of a piece of Delft china, though considerably more comfortable.

‘Damn cat.’ Maeve shrugged, picking up the mug again. ‘His name is Maki, by the way. That was Leah’s call, but she’s also the one who chased him around the grounds every day trying to dress him up in little outfits until he turned into such a grump.’ Maki’s ears twitched, and the slim redhead hesitated briefly, but when the huge cat’s eyes remained closed, she crossed the rest of the distance to hand the mug to Jane. ‘Bael fruit,’ she explained, ‘and lemongrass and rhy – rhodiola?’ She grimaced. ‘Grandma made it; I don’t really know.’

‘Maybe it’s poisoned,’ Jane suggested hopefully as she took the tall, ivy-patterned mug from her friend’s hands. She took a deep sip before Maeve could answer, earning herself a scalded tongue as well as a disapproving scowl.

Maeve sat on the bed, smoothing the quilted bedspread on either side of her with her palms. Maki, who was indeed the largest and fluffiest grey cat that Jane had ever seen, made a noise somewhere between a purr and a growl. ‘Were you planning on hiding in here forever?’

Jane felt that the accusation was distinctly unfair, especially when there were so many fair ones readily available for use. She pulled her left wrist free of the covers and checked her watch. To her surprise, it was one o’clock. ‘Oh,’ she mumbled, then lay back down and stared at the ceiling. ‘I’m still tired,’ she said truthfully. She felt as if she could sleep all day and still not be strong enough to shower, dress, go downstairs. And face them . . . no. Sleep is better.

‘I miss her, too,’ Maeve said quietly. ‘We all do. It’s something we’ve been talking about, last night and this morning. It’s something you could come downstairs and talk about, too.’

Because talking helps, Jane added bitterly in her own mind. We can all share stories about how she helped us or recount jokes that she used to tell; we’ll reminisce and pretend to ignore the fact that my colossal failure took her away from us. Maeve seemed to read the answer on Jane’s face, which at least saved her the trouble of having to speak out loud.

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