Page 58 of The Temptation of Roan Island

“Is there something you need?” I ask, weary, the euphoria simmering away like steam from a boiling pot.

She smiles, something I’ve never seen her do before. It’s off-putting and only serves to soften her severe features a fraction. “Noah asked me to collect a sample of your blood.”

My brows jump, then flop low with confusion. Noah said he wanted to take a sample to see how my blood appeared with venom in my system, but there was no mention of Mrs. Darning doing it.

She crosses the room and sets her bag on my nightstand before pulling out a device similar to the one Noah uses. This one is different though, and in my exhausted state, I can’t quite figure out why. Bigger, maybe? Fear slices through my body. I cringe, backing away from her and the needle. My breath hitches, climbing up into my throat, breaking off like ice stabbing my insides.

Mrs. Darning uses a soft sound to placate me.

Suddenly I’m in a room with bright, sterile lights overhead, The Sanatorium. I blink and return to my body, the bedroom. Mrs. Darning bends over me.

“Wait!” I cry.

“I don’t have all night.” She gives me an impatient look, grips my arm, and yanks it toward her.

“Is Noah still at the party?” I ask, trying to distract myself as she rubs cold liquid on my skin.

“He is.” With an efficiency that demonstrates she’s done this before, she ties something tight over my elbow, holds my arm up to the light, and stabs.

I gasp and turn away. “Did you get Anna’s and Kay’s too?”

She doesn’t answer, ignoring my question. I’m too rattled to ask again. While she’s rougher than Noah, she’s also faster, for which I’m grateful. I turn my head away, stomach queasy. The snap of the band around my arm brings relief. She’s nearly finished.

With the removal of the needle, I draw a deep breath. Rather than press a cloth to my wound to staunch the blood, Darning ignores it, turning with the sample toward her bag. I’m left to stop the bleeding by pressing my hand to it. When I look up, Mrs. Darning approaches me with another needle, another syringe filled with a dark burgundy liquid. She tries to grasp my arm, but I yank it away and move out of her reach to the other side of the bed.

“What are you doing? What is that?”

“Medicine,” she answers, with a curt pinch to her lips.

I eye the needle, shuddering at the length. “There isn’t medicine for Vastatio.”

For a heartbeat, Mrs. Darning stalls, her impatience flashing along with something else I can’t quite place. “It’s to help you sleep. Noah said you’ve been having bad dreams.”

“I’d prefer the dreams.”

She lifts an eyebrow skeptically and opens her mouth like she’s about to argue.

But a quick knock, followed by my door bursting open, distracts us both as Kay breezes into the room.

“Pippa!” she cries with a giant grin on her face, eyes squeezing shut as she twirls around with a look of elation.

To avoid Mrs. Darning and her horrific needle, I get up, and grab Kay before she falls into the furniture. I’m not sure why everyone thinks it’s fine to disturb my sleep tonight, but the interruptions are growing irritating, especially when the only one I want to find in my doorway isn’t there.

“Oh, Pippa, isn’t it wonderful?” Kay stops and looks at me with bright eyes, perhaps still under the influence of something. She grasps my arms and steps a touch too close.

“Isn’t what wonderful?” I ask.

“This feeling!” She twirls me around with her.

I disentangle myself from her hold, and turn back to Mrs. Darning intending to ask her to leave.

But she’s already gone. The bedside is empty. No medical bag, no needle, no frowning housekeeper. I would think it was a dream if my arm didn’t still throb and there weren’t drops of blood on my nightgown.

Kay talks more quickly than my brain can keep up after the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Darning. Did she walk right past us, or is there another way out of here? Kay continues to prattle on about the garden and the romance as I skirt the room, tapping on walls and looking for cracks of light that might indicate a secret passage.

I spin in place, taking in the whole of the room.

“Are you even listening?” Kay asks. “What are you doing?”