Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,80
get a thorough cleansing and a nice cool stay in the freezer.”
Pulling his plastic medical visor in place so he’d be protected from any germs on the donor’s body and the chemicals needed to cleanse him, yet still be able to watch his artwork.
The airbrush nozzle worked so much better than a cloth or even the painter’s brush he’d tried before. The sprayer distributed the bleach into every nook and cranny—even the wrinkles of that old army vet. It saved him so much time. It also let him focus on the minor details. Like any good artist, he needed to perfect his style.
He chuckled.
“That’s me, Pablo Picasso of the dead.”
He couldn’t help it if he enjoyed his work. It was important work and people were going to start to recognize his contributions to society.
“How much longer do you think it will take them?” Brianna asked, munching on one of the chocolate, cranberry and granola bars she’d scored in the service station store. Of course, Aaron, being a guy and not someone who had to worry about every carb and calorie he consumed, downed the two Snickers bars she’d gotten.
She glanced into the backseat where Stanley had curled up in a ball, his stomach full of bacon treats.
“Don’t know, they have to be sure no one inside is Steroid Kyle,” Aaron shifted in his seat to look at her instead of the empty building across the street from where they parked. “There are at least four floors and depending on how many rooms, it could take them another hour.”
They’d already been outside waiting an hour. She’d never been good at waiting for things. Inwardly she sighed. That was before. Lately, she’d gotten pretty good at being patient. Look how long she’d known Aaron and other than some explosive kisses, they hadn’t moved beyond first base.
Yeah, and thinking about that kiss they’d had earlier, she’d better find some other kind of distraction or she might be doing the horizontal mambo vertically and in the driver’s side of this old heap.
“You know what we haven’t talked about?” she asked and smiled inside when he lifted one brow and immediately zeroed in on her lips. Good. She was glad she wasn’t the only one still thinking about that kiss.
“The blood.”
If she hadn’t been watching him intently, she would’ve missed the slight surprise in his eyes, it was so quickly gone.
“There is no blood. We know he’s taking almost all of it from his victims.”
“I know that,” she said, taking another bite of the bar and chewing it before continuing. “What I want to know is, what do you think he’s doing with it?”
“He could be drinking it.”
“Eww,” she said and smacked him on the arm. “You said that just to be gross.”
Aaron chuckled. “Not really. There is a condition where some people crave and drink blood.”
“You’re serious.”
He nodded. “It’s commonly called Renfield syndrome.”
“After the character in the Dracula stories?” She shivered, remembering how scared she’d been seeing the movie as a teen with Abby. They’d both had a big crush on Keanu Reeves at the time.
“I think someone named it that as a joke,” Aaron said with a lift of the corner of his lips. “But there is a history of a few people with psychological problems who drink blood and at least a few serial killers who did drink the blood of their victims.”
“And you just happen to know this because you’re a walking encyclopedia?”
“No. That’s usually your thing.”
“My thing?” She sat straighter as a spark of anger at his comment shot through her.
“Yes,” he said, reaching over to run one finger down her cheek. “You’re the only person I know who can rattle off statistics at the drop of a hat.”
“Those are numbers. They’re kind of my thing.”
“I know. I love that about you.”
She stared into his eyes a moment. No one in her life had ever said they thought her statistics quotes and love of numbers were anything but annoying.
“I don’t know any odd facts about people who drink blood. Why do you?”
He laughed. “I only know it because I looked it up two days ago when I was on your couch and couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” She stumbled trying to get her bearings a little. In all her life, she hadn’t met a man who could spin her emotions and thoughts in so many directions and tilt her off course. Think. What were they talking about? Oh yeah, the blood problem.
“If he’s not drinking the blood, and I don’t even want to