Venom And Vice

23

With my fingers crossed that I didn’t get a ticket or attacked by any monsters, which was the more likely of the two scenarios, I left the car where it was. Peeking around the corner of the building to where Casek had parked, I caught sight of him just as he entered a pub a block down from where I stood. In my rush to follow him out of the building, I had forgotten I was only wearing a tank top and leggings. We’d only tiptoed into May, and the Belfast nights were still brisk at their warmest. My jaw began to shiver as I nonchalantly walked around the corner and made my way toward the pub. The Pickled Pig was located in a corner building, and its front entry was angled facing the corner. Both street-facing walls boasted large multi-paned windows surrounded in aged red brick, giving me the perfect opportunity to peek inside. My attempt at looking inconspicuous was most likely pointless as I leaned against the building in my ridiculously inappropriate outfit. Everyone else on the street at that hour wore jackets while I leaned against the freezing wall with my bare arms. Regardless, I played the part of a young woman waiting for a ride, checking her phone, annoyed to be left alone. A glance inside told me there were two police officers conducting interviews, but I saw little else. Hoping to learn what had happened, I took a second peek inside and forgot all thoughts of being cold. The air outside was nothing compared to the ice that chilled my veins. On the worn wood floor beside the bar lay a dead woman, her face frozen in a look of sheer terror. Next to her wavy red hair was a spilled pint of beer. The scene was a perfect replica of the images I had seen days earlier. I had thought my weary, overtaxed brain had muddled Casek’s memory with wisps of my own imaginings, but that hadn’t been the case. The images my mind had conjured were very real, they simply hadn’t happened yet. My shock at recognizing the scene overrode the horror I would have ordinarily felt at seeing a dead body. All I could think about was how I’d seen all of this before. I abandoned my intentions of staying hidden and pressed my face to the glass, eyes wide and mouth gaping. The scene had come to me in pieces, but once put together, they fit perfectly to form the bigger picture before me. I was so engrossed with my discovery that I failed to notice I had attracted the attention of everyone inside the pub, Casek included. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Eight OceanofPDF.com CASEK “What the f**k are you doing here?” My anger was beyond my control. I could see Ashley was upset, but I was too pissed to be gentle as I confronted her outside the pub. Grabbing her arm, I hauled her down the sidewalk away from the windows and curious stares. She didn’t fight me. Instead, guileless blue eyes peered up at me. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” “Yes, and the last thing I need is you getting involved. If I had wanted you to come, I would have brought you myself.” Ashley flinched. For the first time since I spotted her gaping through the window, the suffocating fear I’d experienced eased its vise-like grip on my chest. “It’s not safe for you here. You should go,” I said with more control, though not as much compassion as I would have liked. She was clearly traumatized, and I hadn’t helped at all. “I’m so sorry. I let my suspicions get the better of me—I’ll go home now.” Her distracted apology was more childlike and lost than I’d ever seen her. She turned to retreat from where she’d come, and I fell into step behind her. She peered back at me in surprise. “You don’t have to follow me. I promise I’ll head straight home. I know you’re busy back there.” I hated hearing how rattled she was. In a perfect world, nothing would ever diminish the headstrong vibrance with which she charged through life. It was my job to keep that spark in place, and I’d failed. Even worse, being at the scene could have been incredibly dangerous. “Assholes like this guy enjoy witnessing the chaos they’ve created. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was here watching, soaking up the scene. So yes, I do have to follow you.” I’d already f****d up once by not considering she might follow me, so I wasn’t going to make things worse by sending her off alone in the dark. It was a good thing I hadn’t because the damn woman had parked hidden in an alley. She might as well have served herself up on a f*****g platter. I clamped down on my irritation, knowing I’d already been harsh enough. “Go straight back. I’ll have one of the men wait for you out front.” She nodded, her eyes drawn distractedly to the darkened alley, then slid into the car and pulled away. As much as the catastrophe of my night loomed over me, I shoved it aside to dwell on later. For now, I had a killer to catch. f**k, I needed a cigarette. When we first bought the Huntsman building, I had insisted on living in this particular apartment. It contained one of the few balconies that had a distant view of the River Lagan. The cold air cleared my head, and I could have a smoke without my place smelling like an ashtray. Smoking was a s**t habit, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I settled into the only chair occupying the space—there was room for another, but I had no interest in encouraging company. The flick of the lighter in the quiet night air coaxed my muscles to relax before I’d even pulled that first puff into my lungs. My body anticipated what was coming and was more than ready. I needed something after the s**t day I’d had. We’d been tracking a rash of murders over the past several weeks. Just a couple at first, but they were increasing in frequency. Always young women. Each time it happened, more work had to go into damage control with the cops and the press. We had to alter memories with plausible stories to make sure anyone involved didn’t question the nature of the deaths. The last thing we needed was some reporter spouting off that there was a supernatural creature killing people on the streets of Belfast. One look at the girls was all it took to be suspicious of their deaths. No visible wounds on any of the bodies, and each of their faces was frozen in a look of abject terror. That was what happened when you’ve literally been scared to death. Human investigators wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. In order to prevent a panic, we had someone monitoring their call system at all times to ensure we intervened in any incidents that might be abnormal. We hurried to each scene and laid the groundwork for a plausible explanation before conducting our own investigation.