Arsenic for the Soul (4 page)

Vivian glared into his scathing
eyes.

“
Do it yourself.” She
turned and walked away. This time she felt a slap on the back. She
almost spun around with a specially prepared fist when she was
greeted by cheers and congratulations.

“
Way to go, new
girl!”

Another rough slap on her shoulders
almost knocked her over as a student lauded her with
praise.

“
I’ve never seen anyone
take on Crenshaw like that and survive! You’re something
else.”

“
He’s nothing special. Just
another washed up ego hiding behind a doctorate.”

“
Isn’t that the truth! You
watch yourself, okay? We need someone like you to put Crenshaw back
in his cage.”

“
Glad to help,” Vivian
chuckled. Yes, a cage was a fitting place for the crabby surgeon.
Or better yet, maybe he would wander into a medical supply closet
and it would “mysteriously” lock behind him if Vivian wandered
nearby.

As the students scattered, Vivian
heard a chirping voice behind her.

“
Better make sure you’re
still in the program tomorrow.” She looked at a sneering girl who
was also in the trauma room when they admitted the woman. “If you
know what’s best for you, of course.”

Vivian considered her smug face for a
moment.

“
You see the ER room behind
you? You can either shut your mouth or I’ll undo the plastic
surgery on your face.”

The girl glared at her before
scurrying away.

Still shaking from the sting of
humiliation, Vivian wandered through the halls. Had she made a
mistake in pinning all of her hopes on this nursing program? What
if she didn’t catch on and learn the ropes? Mistakes weren’t as
forgivable in a hospital—they were a matter of life or
death.

Only one person could assuage her
doubts now.

She spied her father in the recovery
room. His forehead was wrinkled in agitation and his charcoal eyes
flickered dangerously. Lying immobile in the cubicle, he reminded
her of a restless, caged animal—or an angry bear that would just as
soon devour you as it would snuggle up to you.

A dusting of gray hair covered his
scalp. Vivian had lost track of how old he was now, but she knew he
had to be peaking in his mid-fifties.

His voice grated against the chime of
beeping monitors as soon as she entered.

“
What does it feel like to
wear those scrubs and poke and prod the patients?”

“
Another word out of you
and I might order a sedative.”

Despite his tone, his eyes glowed at
the sight of his daughter.

“
Glad to see you’re getting
the hang of things,” he chuckled. “How are you liking it so far?
Getting your hands dirty out in the field?”

Vivian shrugged.

“
I feel a little helpless,
to be honest. I don’t know what I’m doing yet until someone yells
at me.”

“
That will change soon
enough. Just give yourself time to learn and adjust. I’m sure
you’ll be twice the nurse that these amateurs are. Can you believe
they set some second-year student on me who couldn’t stick a needle
in my vein? I thought she was going to butcher my arm the way she
kept jamming it in there. If that nurse didn’t take over, they’d
probably have to send me
back
to surgery!”

Vivian grinned.

“
Nice to see your customary
optimism shining through the morphine. Yeah, you must be
recovering.”

“
Tell that to the damned
doctors so I can get out of here. I feel like an oddity on display
for these hopeless students—no offense.”

“
Don’t worry, I value my
life enough not to come near you with a needle.”

“
Smart girl.” Keung rolled
over on the bed and looked out the window.

Vivian wondered what he must be
enduring every day, confined to a bed instead of working. He spent
far too much time in the hospital that she forgot what it felt like
to see him seated at the dinner table or reading a newspaper in his
private study.

These days, Vivian only shared her
evening meals with her mother. She would inevitably glance at the
head of the table and sink a little deeper into her chair when her
father’s spot was empty.

When she visited him in the hospital,
he seemed a subdued version of the man who always chided her about
responsibilities. But how could he not feel that way when so much
surgery and medication dulled his mind?

He turned away from the window and
smiled at Vivian.

“
Do you remember what I
told you before you were accepted into this program?”

“
Well, you said a lot of
things, most of them falling somewhere in the realm of studying
every night, ending my social life, and no dating for two years.
You’re an absolute tyrant.”

“
Well, yes, there was that,
but you’re forgetting the most important part. I hoped it would
stick a little better than my
tyrannical
edicts, but maybe you need
a gentle reminder. You’re a capable woman and I see so much
greatness and potential in you. Don’t let anyone discourage you
from your dreams. It won’t be easy at first but you’ll find your
way, one day at a time. Your mother and I have faith in
you.”

“
I didn’t know the drugs
made you this sappy, Dad. Thank God they’re taking you off that
stuff in a few days. You’ll be back to your grumbling self in no
time.”

In truth, she couldn’t imagine she
would be standing here today. So many obstacles once barred her way
to this program, but she clearly overcame them. In spite of it, her
first day in the hospital was hardly what she
anticipated.

She recalled the woman who died in the
ER and the strange lesions on her limbs. She would wager her life
that it wasn’t caused by drug use or infection.

Whatever the mystery ailment was, it
didn’t sit well with her. Crenshaw was too quick to write it off as
drug use.

She refused to accept his narrow
explanation—it didn’t matter if he was a brilliant surgeon or
not.

Keung studied the furrow of her
daughter’s eyebrows and the simmering discontent.

“
Is something troubling
you?”

The biting doubts flowed from Vivian
and she smiled at her father.

“
Nothing I can’t
handle.”

THREE

The icy winds chased Camilla into the
foyer of Florenci Apartments. The doors whipped shut behind her
with a gasp of ice-chilled air. Camilla was instantly cocooned in
the warmth of the Victorian-esque building. On any other day she
would have gushed over its nostalgic charm.

Today it bore a haunting resemblance
to Vesely Manor, and that comparison did little to tame her
nerves.

The indoor garden sprawled before her
looked like a darkened forest in the buzzing lights. Tongues of
wind hissed through the vents and flicked her hair.

The cage elevator chimed as it settled
on the first floor and yawned open. The skeletal doors slammed shut
behind her heels as soon as she entered. Camilla felt like a canary
in a cage before she was served up to a diabolical creature. Was
there any worse feeling than a sense of entrapment? Perhaps that
was why she refused to work in a cubicle.

More perturbing than cramped spaces
was the thought of being watched from afar. She couldn’t escape the
feeling that someone had been watching her earlier at the manor
ruins.

She could hardly blame a curious
passer-by for pausing to stare at the cremated ruins and wonder
what it looked like in its glory days. Before the manor perished,
it lured its fair share of tourists and trespassers. Stories about
a ghostly woman wandering the gardens on winter nights only added
to the allure.

Of course, she had always been lured
there for more sentimental reasons. Luckily for her, Uncle
Sebastian possessed a spare key to the estate. The Vesely Manor
provided a quiet place to think when Camilla’s life seemed overrun
with worry. It was a refuge that offered escape from the bustle of
Prague, even if she felt the chill of her ancestors at her
back.

It connected her with a part of her
past that she longed to understand, no matter how treacherous it
seemed. Somehow, knowing where she came from added to her blanket
of security and belonging. She supposed it was better than going
about her life feeling like she was just dropped on her uncle’s
doorstep.

But perhaps it was time to let go of
the dreary past and move forward. It didn’t offer the same refuge
anymore.

She would never set foot in the Vesely
Manor again.

Camilla realized the elevator had
stopped long ago while she was pondering her past and future. How
interchangeable they seemed sometimes. The bar-like doors gaped
open to the bluish hall.

She wanted nothing more than to curl
up in her plush chair and indulge her guilty pleasure of fantasy
novels. A cup of honey lavender tea would also soothe her worries.
She could almost taste the satisfying brew as she fished for her
keys.

Her hand paused on the chilled door
handle. The eerie feeling that chased her into the foyer suddenly
coiled around her throat.

She stole a quick glance over her
shoulder. A black fog of shadows drenched the hall, thick enough to
suffocate sound. Was she expecting clever eyes on her now? She
didn’t even hear the other tenants stirring in their
rooms.

Her key felt as heavy as stone as she
jammed it in the lock. To her surprise, the door swung in with
little resistance.

She also saw the deadbolt and chain
littered on the floor.

Camilla’s brain screamed to
run but her muscles were taut with fear. Someone had invaded the
sanctity of her home.
He could still be
here
, she thought. She clutched the door
handle as though it could be her only lifeline to a society that
was rapidly shrinking. This might be her last chance to call for
help. A stranger could be lurking just around the kitchen door,
waiting to end her life with one catastrophic misstep.

She thought of the kitchen knives
stowed away in the drawers and how they might be clutched tightly
in someone’s hand for more malevolent purposes.

She slapped at her pockets for
something to use as a weapon.

A dry laugh loosed from her throat
when she felt the ballpoint pen in her jeans. Little good it would
do against a stainless steel blade pressed to her
throat.

Renewed panic pumped through her heart
when she thought of Felix, her pet cat. Normally, he would curl
around her feet as soon as she entered.

She made a quick study of her homely
quarters. A potted plant rested in the corner beside her favorite
reading chair. Bookshelves towered against the mocha-colored walls,
resplendent with engraved plaques and a lifetime’s worth of fairy
tales and books.

Across the living room, a
diamond-shaped window afforded a picturesque view of Old Town
Square. Once more she was tempted to sprint into the hall and flee
this nightmare. Instead of granting her sweet escape, her limbs
froze.

A newspaper clipping rested on the
dining table. Against her better judgment, she approached the
scene. Camilla felt as though she was sloshing through waist-high
water with each step across the Persian rugs. She could already
make out the headline on the paper.

After all, she wrote the
front page story for the newspaper
Blaze.

Reign of terror ends with
Magdalene Midnight Mission

The breath hammered out of her chest
as she saw the blood gleaming in luscious trails across the
newsprint, sluicing into a single word that chilled her to the
marrow: SINNER

She bolted for the door. She almost
reached it when she saw something hanging from the ceiling
fan.

An unrecognizable mess of flesh and
fur dangled from the blades.

Terror boiled up in her throat in an
abyssal scream.

* * *

Vivian’s heart bobbed up and down as
she sped down the roads to Florenci Apartments. Camilla phoned her
a short while ago and sounded hysterical and out of
breath.

“
The lock was broken and
they left blood and a message and I don’t know why this is meant
for me—the police are coming—I’ll hunt down the bastard who did
this—”

Vivian’s brakes screeched to a halt
when she saw the police cars outside the complex. She often visited
Camilla at her apartment and stayed overnight to watch drama films
together. This rendezvous felt far removed from those happy
occasions.

She launched up the stairs to the
third floor, hoping Camilla was all right.

An officer immediately barred the
way.

“
Young lady, this is a
crime scene and no one is permitted inside. I have to ask you to
turn back.”