"Fitch-SarahAtTheTidePool" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fitch Marina)

Hours later, Celeste toweled off, the chafe of the terry cloth adding a healthy
glow to the new skin. Sarah's voice broke as she explained how to activate the
neurotoxin glands linked to Celeste's nervous system. She fell silent.

Celeste tossed her ice-blonde hair with a laugh of triumph. "Don't worry, Dr.
Huron. I'm a professional. And I enjoy my work."

"Enjoy it?" Sarah whispered.

"Killing is exciting," Celeste said.

Jason grinned.

Sarah took a deep breath and began her explanation again.

AS JASON strolls toward her, his unbuttoned shirt flapping in the breeze, Sarah
rises. Her right leg tingles awake; she sinks again into the squatting position.
She takes a long draught from her water bottle, the liquid tantalizing her
parched throat. She hesitates, then chugs the last of it.

Jason stops, staring at her, a frustrated, angry cast to his features. "I knew
I'd find you here," he says. "Something went wrong, Sarah."

The blood drains from Sarah's face. She swallows.

Later, Sarah repeated the explanation. "The glands are activated by a pulse rate
of 200 or higher. A strong dose of adrenaline will do it."

"And you've given her an adrenaline tablet?" Richard said.

"Yes. Watch her. When you get to the hotel room, she'll probably ask for a glass
of water. I made sure the tablet was too big for her to swallow without water."

Richard's lower lip trembled. "You're sure, Sarah?"

Sarah turned away, unable to meet his black eyes. "I'm sure, Richard. I designed
the skin. Be very careful. Please."

She expected him to walk away without saying a word, to leave her in the coffee
shop alone. At the very least. A string of obscenities seemed likely, too, or
even a slap or a punch. Any of them seemed likely considering what she had just
told him -- that she had helped plan his assassination.

But Richard took her hand under the table, squeezed it, and said, "Thank you."

Sarah looked up. Horror and anger colored his face, but gratitude muted them.
"I'm sorry," she said.

Richard coughed. "You hated me that much?"