Page 47 of Obsessed in Blood
The nurse seemed mollified, and she nodded toward a bed. “Put her over there, and then you can leave.” She turned to the cook. “What happened?”
“I gave her a simple task to peel potatoes and carrots.” The woman, who was always so stern, wiped her hands over and over, her face a mask of deep worry. Would Lorenzo punish her for my mistake? That wasn’t what I’d intended.
“Don’t fret, Phoebe.” She placed a hand on the cook’s shoulder. “It’s a good thing you didn’t give her a knife. She would have probably slipped and slit her own throat.”
The cook seemed to relax. “And that would be such a shame.”
The three of them laughed as the nurse followed them to the door. They did know I was within hearing distance, right?
“Now, don’t worry. The master will only be concerned with how stupid and incapable she is. And then we’ll have to refrain from giving her anything sharper than a butter knife.”
The cook and her assistant left, still chuckling.
When the nurse spun around, she stood with her hands on her hip as she studied me, a sneer on her face. She was no doubt wondering how someone could be so stupid as to cut themselves that badly with a potato peeler.
“Don’t move. I’ll get something to clean you up. And don’t drip on the floor.”
While she was gone, I scanned the room, grateful I’d remembered the details. The pharmacy was next to the janitor’s closet, and the door was open. I laid back down and waited for the nurse to return. She carried a tray filled with a stainless-steel bowl, two bottles of liquids, bandages, gauze, and elastic wrap. When she turned to grab scissors from a side table, I knocked the tray over, and it crashed to the ground. The glass bottles shattered as the rest of the items scattered, the bowl rolling on its side until it hit a table leg and fell flat.
“What’s wrong with you?” the nurse shrieked. “Look at this mess.” She glared at me, the floor, and then my wrist. “Well, I can’t let you leave with your arm like that, but I’m not cleaning up your mess.” She pointed toward the janitor’s closet. “There’s a broom, dustpan, bucket, and mop in the closet. You’ll need water. There’s a sink on the other side of the pharmacy. Be quick about it while I replenish a new tray.” She stormed off. “And try not to bleed over everything,” she yelled over her retreating back.
Once she was out of sight, I ran to the closet and hauled out the bucket and, after a frantic thirty seconds, found cleanser and dumped some in. I dropped the bucket in the sink and started the water. After a quick glance across the room to where the nurse disappeared, I hurried to the pharmacy.
I turned in a circle, taking stock of all the cabinets. Mrs. Newbridge brought me here once after a long day of cleaning. She hadn’t said anything, but I think I’d given her a migraine. After a second review of the cabinets, I spotted the one I wanted and, as expected, found the door unlocked. The second shelf was filled with vials of various colors. Mrs. Newbridge had taken one of the pink ones, which I knew was for headaches. I was betting everything that the purple liquid was the same sleep aid that Lyra used. I grabbed the vial and stuffed it in my pocket before racing out to the sink. The bucket was almost full, and I jumped when the nurse walked up behind me.
“What’s taking so long?”
“I was waiting for the water to get hot.”
“That’s not necessary. There’s already enough liquid on the floor to prevent anything from drying out. And using a little muscle never hurt anyone.”
I grabbed the bucket and set it next to the broken glass. The nurse handed me the broom before sitting on a stool to watch me clean.
Thirty minutes later, I walked out of the infirmary with instructions to go to the library and start reading the stack of books Mrs. Newbridge had left for me. For the next two hours, I watched the clock as I turned the pages, waiting for Asshole to come for me.
Asshole dragged me,which wasn’t an exaggeration, back to my room at two thirty. He made sure to grab my injured hand and seemed to relish my squeal when he shoved me into the room. Mrs. Newbridge followed us in with my lunch tray and, as anticipated, a tea service for the vamp. She set it on the table, clucked her tongue at me, appeared to want to say something, thought better of it, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
I lifted the lid off the plate, pleased to see a roast beef and cheddar sandwich, which I immediately bit into, starving after only eating oatmeal at breakfast.
Asshole sat across from me and watched with an amused expression.
“Is something funny?” I asked between bites.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what punishment Lorenzo has in store for you when he hears what a troublemaker you’ve been today.”
I gulped. The threat was real if my plan didn’t work. I licked my lip to clean a spot of mayo and held back a grin when the vamp followed my tongue. He poured a cup of tea, his gaze barely leaving mine. I reached for my water and the glass toppled. We jumped up.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry. Let me get something to clean it up.” My hand shook as I picked up the glass and set it aside.
“No. Stay where you are, and I’ll get something.”
I was already reaching into my pocket as he marched to the bathroom. I removed the stopper and added four drops to his tea. Lyra took six drops when she wanted to sleep through the night. She added two drops when she only wanted to sleep for a couple of hours. With Asshole being twice Lyra’s size, I figured four drops was a happy medium.
I’d just returned the vial to my pocket when the vamp came out with a towel. I picked up the plate with my half-eaten sandwich and set it aside, moving other items out of the way to help with cleanup.
“Most of the water is on the tray.” I held out my good hand. “Please let me clean this up. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. I’m truly sorry. Sit and drink your tea. You shouldn’t have to deal with my mess.”
His expression softened, and he tossed the towel over. “When you say it that way, your clumsiness makes sense. Your first night with Lorenzo can seem scary but, from what I’ve heard, he’s a generous lover as long as you follow his commands. He maintains control over his property, and you’ll find it easier if you just do as he asks.”
