The Reanimator's Remains (The Reanimator Mysteries Book 3) by Kara Jorgensen

Author:Kara Jorgensen [Jorgensen, Kara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fox Collie Publishing
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Trapped

Ducking into the empty church, Felipe listened for any sign of his uncles or cousins. They rarely showed their face in the last remnant of the old Dominican mission before Sunday unless they were going on a trip and needed to pray for divine protection. His aunts, on the other hand, were often at the chapel altar with their rosaries in hand. He glanced into the baptistry and toward the altar but found no one. One way or another he needed to be alone, and he couldn’t risk running into his cousins. He could do what he had to do behind the stable or in a storeroom, but there was always a chance someone would walk in on him. When training ended for the day, he made certain to obscure his path, so no one noticed where he had gone. If anyone did notice him missing, at least they wouldn’t think to look for him in the old campanario.

Silently shutting the door to the tower behind him, Felipe climbed the steps to the platform as quietly as a cat. His entire body ached, but those pains were nothing compared to the tightness in his chest. By the time he reached the top, he could scarcely breathe. He could still feel the wounds he received the day before just below the surface. It had been a mistake, a stupid mistake. He looked away for a second, but that was enough. Galvans didn’t make mistakes. The punishment he received was far worse than any his cousins got. His uncles and father thought he must not feel it if the wounds or bruises didn’t leave a lasting mark, so they let pain be the reminder. The lashes he received were long gone, but the wounds remained as an invisible ache that had spread into numbness. Today, when he and his cousins had been forced to stay in the same position for hours without moving or letting their discomfort show, it had been too easy to slip into that state where he could pretend he was a statue or a corpse, a shadow hovering outside his body. His father and uncle had praised him for it. He should have been happy. He should have been—

Felipe’s hands shook as he sank against the cool plaster wall and rolled up his sleeve to reveal an unblemished arm. Pulling the knife from his belt, Felipe only paused long enough to confirm no one was downstairs before slicing into his forearm. Blood blossomed along the length of the wound a second ahead of the searing pain. Felipe bit his lip and savored the rush of calm that followed. The knot in his chest finally loosened as he did it a second and third time. By the time he dragged the knife across his arm for a fourth time, the first wound had healed, and he could breathe for the first time in days. The lingering numbness had sharpened into clarity and relief.

Blood dripped onto the wooden floor as the last two wounds knit shut before his eyes.

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