"P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 01 - Red Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

"Huh. If Beldon is anything to go by then her tastes have changed."
"He's not so bad," I teased. She made a face at me. "He has pretty manners."

"So does my cat."
"The funny thing is that I did get the impression that he would like to be fri
ends."
"Fine. You can be his friend. I'd sooner marry Mr. Rapelji."
"Or your cat?"
She laughed right out loud at that one and I joined her, joking about what h
er cat would be likely to wear when they went to church.
"Of course, you'll have to have a lot of cream for the wedding breakfast," I w
ent on. "For the cat's side of the family."
She added a comment of her own, but I couldn't make it out for her giggling a
nd asked her to repeat it. She struggled to take in the breath to do so, but
in that moment my door burst open with such force that it cracked against the
inside wall. Elizabeth choked with surprise and rolled upright to see better
.
Mother stood on the threshold. Her eyes were wide with incredulity, her mo
uth torn downward with shock. She looked from one to the other of us, unab
le to decide which deserved her immediate attention. Elizabeth and I stare
d back at her with shared confusion.
"Is there something wrong, Mother?" I asked, rising.
Her mouth flapped several times. It might have been comical but for the raw
fury contained in her. It did not remain there for long.
"You two . . . ," she finally gasped out.
"What is it?" I stepped forward, thinking she was ill. She looked feverish e
nough.
"You ... filthy . . . filthy . .. unnatural wretches."
"What's the matter with her?" Elizabeth asked. "Mother?"
I put my hand out. "Come and sit down, Mother."
She slapped me away. "You miserable, depraved creature. How could you ev
en think of such a horror?"
Elizabeth shook her head at me, a sign to keep my distance, and to commun
icate her own puzzlement.
"Mother . .. ," I began. But she came at me, her hand opened wide, and slapp
ed me right across the mouth with all her strength.
My head snapped to one side, my whole face ablaze from the stinging blow. I
fell back, looking at her without comprehension, too startled to react yet.
She struck me again with her other hand, fairly rattling my head. Tears sta
rted from my eyes from the pain. Another strike. I backed away, suddenly aw
are of the invective flowing from her. None of it was too coherent, broken
as it was by her hitting me and the intensity of emotion within. Her temper
tantrum this morning was but a shower compared to this gale.
Elizabeth was off the bed by now and shouting at her. I put my hands up to
guard myself and tried to back around toward the door and escape. Elizabe
th got between us and took solid hold of Mother's arm. Now they were both
shouting.
Then Mother hit Elizabeth. Not with an open hand, but a closed fist.
Elizabeth cried out and spun away, her hair flying. She fell against the be
d, then dropped to the floor. Her next breath was a bewildered, angry sob.