Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,41

to him.

Not only had she eviscerated him, but she’d cut off his cock and every other appendage that he had. His fingers were put into his mouth, along with his cock. But it was what she’d done with his entrails that made her think of going to the bushes and throwing up again. He’d been decorated with them. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d even draped them around the headboard and foot board like a canopy in a little girl’s room. Guinevere hadn’t even known there was that much belly in a person.

“You loved it and you know it. You’re just jealous that I can make murder a work of art.” Guinevere stiffened when Verrie’s voice entered her head. “And don’t be such a prude. You’ve killed your fair share of men over the past few years. Like those idiots you hired to take out the money-grubbing whore.”

“Killing for hire and killing for pleasure are two different things altogether. I killed those ‘idiots,’ as you called them, because they fucked up. You killed that man because…why did you kill him?” Guinevere watched a car pull into the drive, but not go through the gates before it pulled away. It didn’t enter, but simply pulled in. She didn’t bother making note of the license plate number.

“Because I could. And it sounded like fun. Have you ever stuck a knife into someone’s soft parts and felt the way it slid in? It’s quite invigorating, let me tell you. Then there is the way the guts smell when you unearth them.” Verrie made a noise that reminded Guinevere of kissing and her stomach lurched again. “You need to have a little more fun. Think of the possibilities.”

Guinevere did and she ran for the bushes behind her and threw up. And when there was nothing else she heaved some more. By the time she’d gotten back to her post and settled, she noticed that the gates were coming to a quiet close.

“Well fuck.” She looked up and down the street and didn’t see anything moving. She didn’t know if someone had come onto the grounds or off of them. She was in so much trouble that she was nearly sick again. Thinking hard, she tried to decide what she should do. If she didn’t report it then no one would be the wiser. If there was someone else on the property, which she reasoned had to be what had happened, then she was clear. She’d been told to tell if someone left, not entered. She sat back down on the grassy area and tried to calm herself. If she was stressed or too upset then one of the others would come back.

She must have dosed, or one of the others came by to check on her, because the next thing she knew she was back at the house they rented. The smell nearly made her sick again. Guinevere sat up on the couch and noticed that her entire front was covered in blood. Her nose had bled again. It was happening more and more and that frightened her a great deal. She went to the bathroom to clean up and found that someone had made a bloody mess in there.

Thankfully there was no body this time, just a lot of blood. It took her twenty minutes to clean it up. Then she stepped into the shower and cleaned herself and her clothes. They didn’t have a washer and she couldn’t take these bloody things to the laundromat.

When she stepped out of the shower and glanced into the mirror Guinevere froze. She’d not seen her for a very long time. Guinnie was staring at her for a long time and, when she spoke, Guinevere had a premonition that scared her more than Verrie ever did.

“We’re all going to die very soon by Gracie’s hand. And when we do, I will be at peace for the first time in all my life.”

Chapter 13

Michael watched Grace. She would sit for a few minutes then get up to pace. He was glad they’d taken his plane instead of flying commercial; she would never have been able to stand the flight otherwise. He glanced over at Trace and his dog playing on the floor. And Trace would have had to leave the dog behind, which he was sure wouldn’t have been easy for either of them.

“I don’t know why you have to come along. I can very well go to a family dinner by myself. Believe it or not,