Читать книгу Escort For The Witch онлайн

“Jack, this is the first and last time I ask you to help me… get me a chair and…

and bring water, please,” she muttered. Trying not to curse, I carefully lifted her, carried to the living room. There I laid her on the couch.

“Wait a second,” I muttered and left to fetch some water. Once again, I scanned the kitchen but didn’t see anything that could have frightened her. I had no choice

but to return to the living room. Sabrina took a few sips from the glass and brushed the damp hair from her forehead.

“Some virus,” she murmured, tilting her head back and taking a few deep breaths.

“Yeah, a virus. Should I call a doctor or take you to the hospital?”

“Or maybe we should have lunch?” She smiled. And there was something in that smile that made my heart sink again.

“How did you wake up Eric?” Sabrina asked curiously, nodding towards the bathroom.

“You gotta have skills,” I replied, not without an air of mischief.

There was a deafening crash followed by a string of curses, coming from the depths of the house. Then the slam of the door, and finally, a loud yawn. Eric entered the living room almost steadily.

He looked much better, but still disheveled and clearly unaware of what was happening around him. I noticed a shallow cut on his left cheek. Naturally, Eric noticed it too.

“I shaved,” he grumbled, poking the cheek with a cotton swab.

“Clearly,” Sabrina retorted sharply, catching her brother’s attention.

Noticing Sabrina, Eric immediately rushed to her and sat down on the floor next her.

“Are you feeling bad again, Sabi?” he asked anxiously, breathing alcohol fumes into her face.

“You’ll definitely make me feel bad now!” Sabrina grimaced, lightly punched Eric’s shoulder, got up and left the room. Watching her leave, I turned back to the squatting figure on the floor, the hunched-over guy who clearly didn't want to continue the conversation started in his room.

“I think we have something to discuss,” I said softly, breaking the awkward pause.

Eric shot me an angry glance, then laboriously got up and, dramatically, trudged back to his alcohol-soaked den.