Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

But i will not get drawn off into a long defense of

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Unformatted text preview: even Hamilton, who was out taking a nap. Hamilton wasn't a bad guy at all. He slipped the pen in his pocket and reached out with his left hand to clasp Rowan's fingers. There was a sudden jerk. He rose up with a start. "Just a reflex, Mr. Curry," said the nurse from the shadows. "It happens now and then. If she was hooked to one of the machines, it would drive the needle crazy, but it doesn't mean a damned thing." He sat back, holding tight to her hand, refusing to admit it was as cool and lifeless as before. He looked at her profile. It seemed to have slipped a little to the left. But maybe that was a mistake. Or they had lifted her head for some reason, or he was just dreaming. Then he felt the fingers tighten again. "There, it happened," he said. He stood up. "Turn on that lamp." "It's nothing, you're torturing yourself," said the nurse. She came softly to the side of the bed, and she laid her fingers on Rowan's right wrist. Then, rem...
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