The Reinvented Miss Bluebeard (London Paranormal 03) by Minda Webber Read Free Book Online Page B

hair, a thick white moustache, and a tall but bulky body. He also had a troll's dark brown eyes—eyes so deep brown that they appeared black. With relish, the noted psychiatrist entered the conversation.
    "Yes, of course. I was fortunate to study with Charcow on hysteria and engaging the mind over matter and madness. From reading your hypothesis, Dr. Griffin, I find that your Verbal Intercourse is similar to my own sessions. My Id and TAT therapies are world-renowned, and used by many a modern psychiatrist. I find it quite useful to let the patients converse about themselves and their dreams or fantasies. One can never tell what nonsense or revelations might be revealed from the foggy mists of their ravaged, demented minds. As well you know, the journey from the outer limits of our consciousness to the inner limits of our most secret places can be through a hell filled with fire and brimstone."
    "Yes, without dreams where would the arts be today—or music, for that matter?" Nodding, Eve eagerly continued, feeling a need to impress this most famous of all modern psychiatrists. "I have read all six of your books, Doctor, and always enjoy your articles in the
Journal
." She looked enthusiastically forward to Dr. Sigmund's articles, although she did not agree with everything the respected doctor said. Still, she did admire his verve and his devotion to duty. He also was quick to try new methods, and to discount those that didn't work while advancing those that did.
    Dr. Sigmund gave a brisk nod, quite used to the homage of the masses.
    "Please don't keep me in suspense. Have you read my books also, Dr. Griffin?" Dr. Crane asked, eyeing her delectable décolleté.
    Of course I have
, Eve thought smugly, keeping her face a mask of polite interest. To know one's enemy had been a lesson drummed into her at an early age by her father, along with the "
Be Prepared"
pirate motto. Although these men weren't exactly enemies, they were at least opponents. They held the purse strings to the foundation's coins. Coins she desperately needed to help with her work.
    "I have, and I was quite impressed with your work on the lineage of the weredodo, citing that constant inbreeding has caused these werebirds to have more feathers than wit."
    Ruefully, Dr. Crane shook his head. "Sad but true. In-breeding has left them with madness, bird-wittedness, and an unfortunate few live births. I imagine we will see the extinction of the weredodo before the twentieth century comes to pass. So sad, the loss of any of my feathered friends."
    The conversation progressed into the myriad difficulties faced by wereshifters who were birds, and Eve soon heard the dinner bell tinkle, announcing that the food was ready to be served. As she was about to suggest that they all go into the dining room, the blue salon's doors slammed open against the wall. Dr. Sigmund jumped a little, and Count Caligari sneered.
    "Did you ring?" Teeter asked the room at large. "Heavens! Has Hugo escaped again?"
    Trying to hide the blush starting up her neck, Eve shook her head. "It was the dinner bell, Teeter!" Repressing the urge to add,
You old fool
, she gave him a look that promised dire retribution later. She should really sack him, but he was good with patients, and nobody was a better gardener than his cousin. And wherever Teeter went, so, regrettably, did Totter, since the two had been raised like brothers by their grandfather.
    "Dinner. Shall we retire to the dining hall?"
    "Jolly good, I'm quite famished," Dr. Crane said calmly. Noting Eve's dismay, he added, "Pray drop your distress, my dear. My own butler is
dreadfully
correct. Of course, my stable master is a horror—refuses to clean the eaves in the barn half the time. Eaves, where I love to roost on eves of the full moon. I detest messy nests," he groused. "I seriously doubt anyone's home runs like clockwork these days. And as your husband is absent, I'm quite sure you are struggling to stay afloat without him. You must miss