Curse And Craving

9

She wasn’t entirely wrong. I hadn’t heard of any ghastly murders or vicious attacks either. Usually, word of something violent like that spreads quickly. And hadn’t I just been reveling in how optimistic I felt about the new job? If I went back home, how long would I have to wait tables before I got another opportunity like this at a world-class museum? “I suppose I shouldn’t be too hasty,” I reluctantly agreed. “Thatta girl. Now, how about we go downstairs and open a bottle of wine?” I didn’t move. “What do you think they could be, Ash? Could vampires and stuff really be real?” “Nope.” She shook her head adamantly. “We’re not doing this. You’ll only freak yourself out.” With superhuman strength, she yanked me off the bed. “Downstairs. Now.” I couldn’t help but smile. Ash knew me almost better than I knew myself. “Okay, okay. Let me put on a hoodie, and I’ll be down in a sec.” “I’ll get the charcuterie started,” she sang on her way down the stairs. I grabbed a pink hoodie from the closet, and when I turned off the light, the glowing streetlamp outside caught my attention. I went to close the blinds and saw a figure leaning against the wall not far from the lamppost. A man in a suit. A man in a suit with short, ruffled hair and eyes trained on my window. It was him—the man who had questioned me on the street the day we’d arrived. I wouldn’t forget that face so long as I lived. An ominous chill slithered down my spine. Had he followed me? His presence couldn’t be a coincidence. He’d sought me out, but why? Did he have me confused with someone else? No, he knew that I was new to the country. All I could figure was that he was a stalker. An insanely gorgeous, possibly deranged, Adonis of an Irishman lurking outside my window. Superb. And I’d thought things couldn’t get any creepier. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Five AFTER A XANAX AND A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP, I WAS FEELING MUCH BETTER come Friday morning. The prospect of seeing Ronan again also had a lot to do with my bolstered mental state. Ashley and I were equally excited to go out for the night. It was the perfect distraction from my anxious thoughts. But before I could lose myself in loud music and smiling dimples, I had to get through a full day at the museum. Hopefully, I’d be busy enough to keep any idle thoughts at bay. “You must be Catronia!” I greeted the young woman behind the visitor desk when I entered the building. Fergus had told me about the girl who worked at the desk and how she’d been out of town during my first few days at work. She was a few years younger than me and easily identifiable by her shocking red hair curling just past her shoulders, striking green eyes, and loads of freckles scattered across her friendly face. “Please, call me Cat. You must be Rebecca.” She came around the desk to give me an enthusiastic handshake. “Yes, but please call me Becca. I hope your getaway went well.” Her eyes rolled heavenward. “Had to go with my mam to see her sister on the coast. I tried to get out of it, but Mam’s big on family.” “Have you worked at the museum for long?” I asked, wanting to get to know my new coworker. “For about a year. Fergus … I mean, Mr. Campbell is a friend of the family. Once I got my leaving certificate, that’s finishing secondary, I started working here. I was never interested in third-level school, and with my mam’s connection at the museum, things just fell into place,” she said as she twirled a red curl between her fingers. “Have you lived here all your life then?” “All my life, and the same for my parents, and their parents, and so on. You could say we are a pillar in the Belfast community.” Her snarky tone hinted at an appreciation for sarcasm, which brought her up a notch in my estimation. “Have you settled in yet? Seen the city and all?” “Not a ton, but I will. My best friend came with me for a couple of weeks, so I’ve been spending time with her. Tonight is the first night we’re getting to go out and see a bit of the nightlife.” “Oh, yeah? Where to?” “A club called the Huntsman. Ever heard of it?” I figured she was young and likely had a good grasp on the local scene. Maybe she could tell me about the place. I’d planned to look it up during my lunch break to gauge the dress code, but if Cat knew the place, she could give me the lowdown. What I didn’t expect was the veil that descended over her features. “You’re going to the Huntsman, are you? How did that come about?” she asked with practiced indifference. Curiosity and a touch of alarm stiffened my spine. “I met someone the other day, and he suggested my friend and I hang out with him and his friends at the club.” Her hand tapped idly on the vinyl desktop. “It's not the best idea to get mixed up with that crew. Bunch of chancers they are.” “What on earth is a chancer?”

“No good, that’s what. You take a real chance hanging around them. There’s any number of pubs in the city, so I’d suggest you pick another.” She shrugged as if it made no difference to her, but I got the sense she cared more than she was letting on. It was disappointing to know she didn’t approve of the place, but she was just one person. Just because she’d had a bad experience didn’t mean the entire establishment was bad. “I’m not sure I could convince Ash to change plans, but I’ll definitely mention it.” I didn’t want to offend my new coworker by disregarding her outright. Her heart was in the right place. “All right, I’m heading upstairs. It was lovely meeting you!” I was pleased to see her vivacious smile returned, though I didn’t miss the glint of wariness still lurking in her eyes. “GETTING DOLLED UP ALREADY?” I’d made it through my workday and come home to blaring music and a glammed-out Ashley. “Yes! You and I are going out to eat. We’ve been in this country almost an entire week and not gone out once for a proper dinner, so get changed.” She went back to applying mascara. Two dresses were laid out on the bed, which was her obvious attempt to get me in a dress instead of skinny jeans and a blouse, which was my clubbing outfit of choice. “It’s too cold to wear that dress. I’ll freeze to death.” “Beauty is pain, Bec. Put it on.” With a grunt of frustration, I took off my work outfit and held up the offending dress for a second look. At least it had long sleeves, but it was clingy and had a low scoop neck. It also had a low-cut back, which meant no bra.