Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) by Kathryn Jayne (old books to read .TXT) 📗

many empty donor booths, fussing around him and repositioning the cushions until he was comfortable.

His eyelids flickered closed for a moment, his heavy limbs unwilling to respond to even the simplest command. He had not heard Whitney leave, so when she shook him gently to place the sweet drink and snacks on the small, swinging side-table, it caused him to startle. The glass cup steamed, its fragrance of honey and chocolate causing a small amount of saliva to pool in his dry mouth. He struggled to straighten himself as she unclipped the table, swivelling it until it rested before him. “You can stay here until you’re recovered. You know the drill. Don’t disturb the donors. I’ll be about, just don’t leave until you’re ready.”

“What do I owe you for this?” he asked, his weary arms extending towards the glass.

“This one’s on me, as long as you promise not to make a habit of what you did tonight.”

“Deal.” She seemed to eye him critically as he agreed to her demands. Obviously seeing that he was earnest, she gave a curt nod before returning to her work.

As promised, she left the door open, and Will allowed himself to sink deeper into the soft cushions, enjoying the way they supported his weight so perfectly. These booths were made for comfort; after all, a donor could be here for hours. The thick glass separating them from each other was a measure to ensure they felt safe, and whilst they were kept separate during donations, they never felt truly alone. Entertainment was provided and was displayed on one of the glass partitions near the door, where the opacity of the glass altered to allow it to become a monitor. A donor could also register for chat and either type or talk to other willing participants. While they were in isolation, they were never alone, and seeing others offered a feeling of security to everyone.

He glanced towards the booth next to him, seeing a young man with several syphons on his arm. Syphons had been specially bred to draw an exact measure of blood from their designated host, and they tasted delicious, much like the sugar shell of a rich, expensive chocolate, and were served on a platter and eaten like candies.

Feeling a little steadier, he slowly rearranged his energy in order to replenish his reserves and stop the fading in and out sensation of his vision. As soon as he was able, he would leave. He knew better than to loiter here longer than necessary. He sighed in frustration, knowing that in his current state, there was no way he would darken Ashley’s door, as it would invite too many questions and bring a serious tone to what she needed to be a pleasant evening.

Chapter 4

Ashley stifled a yawn as the cool night air greeted her, stinging her damp face. Her eyes were still reddened from the tears she had shed. One of the worst parts of working with the elderly was when they lost someone. For three days she had sat at Ada’s bedside as she took one laboured breath after another, until finally tonight, her exhausted body had surrendered to death’s embrace and her soul returned home. The doctor had arrived on site twenty minutes ago, and Ashley had clocked out, making her way home.

Over the years, she had grown close to the small number of residents in the nursing home. They were more like her extended family than patients and she loved them all. Losing any of them hurt.

Glancing at her watch, she quickened her pace. While the days had become warmer, the night air still bit, especially on a night like tonight where the stars shone brightly and were rarely masked by the scant skittering of dark, wispy clouds. She was looking forward to her next pay cheque when finally the bike would be hers and the forty minute walk would become a fifteen minute ride.

As she walked, an uneasy feeling crept over her. With a quick glance at her surroundings, she pulled her jacket tighter as her fine hairs rose. Darkness engulfed the path before her, swallowing the pale walkway where the lamppost’s mechanics lay in tatters, coiled around their stone plinth like a nest of snakes, hissing and writhing as their once-working gears churned. In the distance, the flickering welcome of the bandstand’s solar-powered illumination beckoned, with a promise of light beyond the darkness. Passing each broken lamp, she counted aloud, reminding herself how many remained until the comfort of light would once more embrace her. She tucked her right hand into her pocket, caressing her device, wondering if she should call Tess to keep her company during the walk. A glance at her watch dispelled the notion. Besides, if there was someone lurking, any speaking would only serve to alert them of her whereabouts.

Stopping, she crouched to fasten the lace on one of her black, low-heeled shoes, using the time to steady her breathing, slowing it down into long, controlled breaths while taking the opportunity to better survey her surroundings. Her heart hammered as each rustle set her nerves on edge.

When the light from the bandstand washed over her, her shoulders visibly relaxed as she released a breath. The small, winding passage beyond was bathed in the dappled illumination of the lampposts, their orange glow welcoming to her weary vision.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath her shoes counted the paces as she walked the decorative garden. Even in its pale illumination it was a sight to behold. Flowers that worshipped the sunlight bowed their head in tribute to the night, as the garden’s night bloomers revealed their own beauty. Day or night, this was a mesmerising place.

A sudden chill encompassed her. Her instincts told her not to look behind, to keep her head down and continue walking, and she succeeded, her ears straining to hear any other footfalls upon the gravel. She paused again, swearing she heard a sound buried within the noise of her own