Turning by Jennifer Armintrout

Author:Jennifer Armintrout [Armintrout, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Thrillers, Suspense
ISBN: 9781552544709
Google: jKNdiYtLwz8C
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2006-06-01T06:53:50+00:00

Thirteen

Revelations and Recriminations

B ack in my room, I practically ripped the gown from my body. My fingers shook and my chest ached with sobs as I struggled to hold them back.

What was Ziggy doing here? He’d had an awkward confrontation with Nathan, but that didn’t explain why he’d come here. Not when he knew who lived here. Unless…

But he couldn’t have been running to me.

I put on my robe and rang the velvet bell pull to summon Clarence. He appeared minutes later, looking crisp and pressed as always.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked as he nodded politely to me.

His face was humorless. “You needed something?”

I drew myself up as regally as I could manage in a bathrobe. “Yes. The Master—” I stumbled on the word. “He has a guest with him in his chambers. I’d like to be informed when he’s…finished. And bring the young gentleman here.”

Clarence shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t involve myself with the pets.”

“He’s not a pet,” I snapped. “He’s a friend. If you don’t wish to do it yourself, tell the guards to deliver him to me.”

I thought I saw a spark of admiration in his eyes, but he didn’t smile. “Yes, ma’am. Will you require anything else?”

“Paper and a pen. Clean sheets. And medical supplies, any you might have. Gauze, disinfectant, clean towels—”

He cut me off. “I’m sure I can find an adequate first aid kit for you in the guardhouse.”

I wasn’t sure how to dismiss him. “You do that, then. Right now.”

After he’d gone, I went to my bathroom and ran the tap water until it was as hot as it could get. I grabbed a hand towel from the rack and plunged it into the water, then hurried to the parlor. I wiped off the wooden arms and carved back of the antique sofa, making several return trips to the sink when the cloth got cold. I repeated the process with the marble end table, and covered it with a clean towel. It wasn’t sterile, but it would have to do.

Clarence returned, and I nearly knocked him over to get at the medical kit he bore. I asked him to leave the folded sheets on the sofa. He surprised me by spreading them out carefully, skillfully tucking the corners around the odd shape.

I popped the latch on the beer cooler that contained my necessary supplies. Taking a seat, I examined the contents. There were all types of sutures, tape, gauze, vials of drugs, and even surgical instruments in sealed, sanitary packages. “This is what he gives the guards here?”

“He doesn’t want them going to the hospital. Raises too many questions,” Clarence said.

I looked up sharply. “What if they die?”

“Then some of the guards get burial duty.”

I looked out the window. The sky was turning pink. “What about the pets?”

“They don’t bury them out there. Guards go behind the guardhouse, that’s out past the maze. Pets go in the cellar. That’s my job.”

“The cellar? In the house?” I imagined piles of bodies festering below us.

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