Taste of Grief (Just One Bite #3) by Glass Kay

Author:Glass, Kay [Glass, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-07-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Lizbeth felt like all she did was eat, sleep, and visit with corpses. When she staggered in the front door after yet another endless shift, it was already 8 p.m. and she couldn't remember what a decent night's sleep was. She kicked her work shoes off, clutching the door frame of her home office so she didn't fall face first onto the hard wood floor of the entryway, and dropped her briefcase somewhere in the vicinity of her office. She didn't bother looking to see where it landed. All she wanted was a soak in the tub and some hot food- she wasn't sure what order she put those priorities, but she knew food was probably the more important of the two.

She walked slowly, barely lifting her feet from the floor, until she made it to the parlor. She threw herself down onto the loveseat and put her feet up on the arm. She would just rest a moment until her feet quit throbbing, she told herself. Then she'd get her food and maybe take a bath before bed. She was asleep in moments.

Lizbeth dreamed, and even knowing it was a dream she felt fear. A man in a black trench coat chased her with a syringe. Every time he stepped into the pool of brightness cast by a streetlight, nothing lit up but the syringe in his hand. Instead of a silver tip, the syringe glistened red in that false yellow light. It wasn't until the drops hit the pavement that she realized the tip was silver, but it couldn't be seen through the thick coat of blood that struggled to congeal. She ran faster, and the hat covering the man's face flew off in his efforts to chase her. She looked back over her shoulder to find the street empty but for a trail of blood droplets, dark on the pavement. When she spun forward again, she faced Giles Carson, and the syringe plunged down into her arm.

Lizbeth woke screaming, and Adrian jumped back from her, cursing under his breath. "I'm sorry, Liz, I didn't mean to startle you. I was trying to wake you to see if you wanted to eat, or perhaps just head up to bed." He looked contrite, obviously feeling guilty for scaring her out of sleep.

Lizbeth shook her head. "Food sounds good, please. Where's Diandra?" That question became moot as she flew into the room.

"Are you okay? What the Hell happened?" Diandra barked out, the front of her soaked with water and what smelled like lavender bath soap. Her hair was pulled up into a makeshift bun, but several strands had escaped to float around her face. She brushed one wet hand through them, pushing them back from her eyes as she searched their faces anxiously, seeking a response.

Lizbeth shook her head and started to speak but Adrian beat her to it. "I'm afraid that's my fault, Dia. I found her asleep on the loveseat and went to wake her to see if she was hungry, but as soon as I touched her arm she screamed.

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