Olivia’s mouth curved slowly.
‘It’s a good thing it’s not your heart that the women of Mercy are after,’ she spoke softly as his penetrating blue eyes landed on her sharply. ‘I get the feeling it isn’t free.’
‘Well aren’t you the perceptive one,’ he murmured as he watched her thoughtfully. ‘So, you’ve a bit of witch in you then?’
‘Doesn’t everyone in Mercy,’ Olivia shrugged nonchalantly.
‘True,’ he grinned as Shelley approached.
‘Would you like a table?’ she asked.
‘Here’s fine,’ Olivia replied as Shelley slid the piping hot bowl onto the bar in front of her, along with a plate of warm fragrant rolls and sparkling cutlery wrapped in a crisp white napkin.
‘God, that smells good,’ Olivia breathed deeply as the spicy scent rose from the dish in wispy little tendrils.
‘Enjoy,’ Shelley smiled as she turned back to Jackson and began to load the drinks she’d ordered onto her tray.
‘Is Adam off his break yet?’ Jackson asked.
‘He’s just out back finishing his cigarette; he’ll be back in five.’
‘Alright then, tell him I need a hand on the bar, the movie theatre will empty out in about half an hour and it’ll start to pick up.’
She nodded, hesitating slightly.
‘What is it?’ he asked, catching her reluctance.
‘It’s just,’ She paused frowning, ‘Stu called, I can’t work this Thursday he needs me. Some work thing with his boss.’
‘This Thursday?’ Jackson replied evenly, his expression carefully neutral.
‘Yes,’ she replied miserably.
‘But you’ve spent months trying to book the band coming in on Thursday, they’re your favourite.’
‘I know,’ she sighed, ‘But sometimes I need to put his feelings first, his career is important to him.’
‘It seems to me that you do plenty for him, perhaps once in a while he could think of you.’
‘He does,’ Shelley snapped defensively. ‘He’s not as bad as you think.’
‘You really don’t want to know what I think,’ he murmured under his breath.
‘Can I have the night off or not,’ Shelley scowled at him.
‘The truth is I don’t know as I can spare you, it’s a live music night and we’re usually packed out.’
‘My cousin Josie says she’ll cover for me,’ she replied tightly. ‘She worked in here during last summer so she knows the ropes.’
‘Fine,’ Jackson replied blandly.
‘Jackson I really am sorry,’ Shelley sighed. ‘I can’t please everyone.’
‘No, I imagine not, but then I am the one that pays your wages.’
‘Yes you are,’ she replied quietly, ‘but he’s the one I have to live with.’
Jackson watched silently as she picked up the tray and disappeared into the rapidly expanding crowd, his jaw clenched and his eyes guarded.
‘You know,’ Olivia scoped another spoonful of stew into her mouth and swallowed, ‘sometimes it can be helpful to unload onto a complete stranger.’
The corner of Jackson’s mouth curved into a smile as some of the amusement crept back into his eyes.
‘If I was any kind of bartender worth my salt I would be saying such to you.’
‘I won’t tell if you don’t,’ she smiled, ‘and if anyone asks I’ll swear blind you talked all my deepest most miserable secrets out of me and I cried my heart out into this really excellent stew.’
The laugh caught them both by surprise as it bubbled out of Jackson, honest and unexpected.
‘I think I’ll enjoy your company Olivia West,’ he smiled.
A sudden crash had them both turning their heads in the direction of the kitchen as a tall sandy haired guy darted through the swinging door.
‘What the hell’s going on Adam?’ Jackson frowned.
‘You’d better go deal with Owen,’ Adam grinned as he lifted up the walk through and slid behind the warm cherry wood bar, ‘He’s on a tear again.’
‘What this time,’ Jackson rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation muttering under his breath, ‘you’ll excuse me Olivia darlin’’
‘Sure,’ she replied watching in interest as Jackson ducked under the bar and set off purposefully towards the kitchen.
‘Can I get you another one?’ Adam asked her indicating her empty glass.
‘Better not,’ Olivia shook her head, appraising him silently, taking in his brown eyes and slim build. Turning in the light she noticed a small tattoo of a four leafed clover on his neck and a silver St Christopher hung at his throat peeking through the open neck of his dark coloured shirt. ‘I still have to drive home, but I’ll take a coke.’
Adam nodded.
‘You local then?’
‘I’m up at the Stick House.’ She replied, dusting the breadcrumbs from her fingers and stacking her empty bowl on top of the bread plate.
‘The Stick House,’ Adam replied thoughtfully, ‘the big place in the woods by the lake?’
‘That’s the one,’ She watched as he slid a glass of coke in front of her and scooped up her dirty glass.
‘Wasn’t that Evie’s place?’
‘Yeah,’ Olivia replied softly, ‘she was my Great Aunt.’
‘Sorry to hear about her death,’ Adam answered. ‘Only met her a couple of times but I liked her.’
‘Thanks,’ Olivia nodded, ‘so how about you?’
‘Sorry?,’
‘You from around here?’ She clarified.
‘All over but Ulysses Kansas originally.’ He wiped down the bar casually, ‘decided to travel a bit, landed up in Mercy about six months back.’
‘Hey Adam.’ A sassy redhead, slung an empty tray down on the bar with a wink, ‘Jack and coke, white wine and two pints.’
He nodded and turned to grab a glass but his gaze continued to follow the redhead. Olivia sat quietly sipping her coke as her eyes scanned the fairly busy pub. It was a warm welcoming place, with its dark polished wood trims everywhere, its almond coloured walls and small black and white checked tiles on the floor. Irish music played softly in the background; something complicated involving pipes and a fiddle which made you want to tap your foot without even realising it.
‘Good God, the man’s a menace,’ Jackson swung back through the doors and ducked back under the bar.
‘Crisis averted?’ Olivia’s mouth curved in amusement.
‘Of a kind,’ he shook his head ruefully. ‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘No thanks,’ she replied, ‘I have to head back, I still have boxes of my aunt’s things to sort through.’
She stood and brushed the crumbs from her jeans as she reached into her purse for her wallet.
‘It’s on the house,’ Jackson shook his head when she offered him a couple of bills. ‘Welcome home Olivia.’
Olivia stood motionless for a heartbeat as she took in his sincere gaze and warm smile and felt the simple warmth of an honest welcome spread through her. Maybe coming back to Mercy wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
‘Thank you.’ she murmured, watching him thoughtfully.
‘Don’t be a stranger Olivia love,’ Jackson grinned. ‘It’s too easy to stagnate in that big house, rattling around by yourself.’
‘I won’t,’ she chuckled lightly. ‘Bye Adam.’
He raised a hand in silent farewell as both he and Jackson watched her walk out the door.
‘Well she’ll make the place more interesting,’ Jackson mused.
‘You have no idea,’ Shelley dropped an empty tray down on the bar.
‘What do you mean?’ he frowned.
‘Olivia West and her parents are practically a legend in this town. About twenty years ago, her daddy murdered her mama and his mama in law, Olivia’s grandmother Alice; she was Evelyn’s twin sister.’
‘Is that right?’ Jackson replied curiously.
‘Stabbed them both to death, right out of the blue, just snapped apparently. I knew her daddy; he taught history at the high school, I was in his class. Funny, he never seemed the type. He was so quietly spoken, so nice.’
‘That’s what they say about some serial killers,’ Adam interjected as he wiped the bar down with a damp cloth.
‘I suppose,’ Shelley murmured, ‘anyway word is, when he realised what he’d done he burned down the house with the bodies inside and kidnapped Olivia who was only a kid at the time. I think he got as far as Boston or Philly before they picked him up. I don’t know what happened to either of them after that, but there was a lot of gossip going around Mercy High at the time.’
‘How come I’m only just hearing about this?’ Jackson frowned. ‘I’ve lived here nearly ten years.’
‘People were encouraged to keep their mouths shut.’ Shelley shrugged.
‘Encouraged?’ Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
‘Evelyn didn’t like to hear people talking about her sister and her niece like that so she made it known.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well let’s just say that bad things had a way of happening to people who gossiped about the Wests after that.’
‘This town and its superstitions,’ Adam snorted shaking his head as he began to unload glasses from the dishwasher.
‘It’s not superstition,’ Shelley’s eyes narrowed in warning, ‘and if you’d been raised in this town you would know that. After all it was founded by the survivors of Salem and the Wests are the oldest family in town.’
‘Witchcraft?’ Adam smiled in amusement. ‘Seriously you don’t buy into that crap do you?’
‘I know enough to know when to keep my mouth shut,’ Shelley replied coldly.
‘So why are you opening it now, if something bad happens to anyone who talks about the murders?’ He asked flippantly.
‘Evelyn’s not here anymore is she,’ Shelley replied.
‘You’re so full of bull,’ Adam snorted. ‘Save it for the tourists Shell, there’s no such thing as Witchcraft.’
‘It’d serve you right, if something bad happens to you,’ she hissed as she snatched up the tray and sailed through the door into the kitchen.
‘You certainly have a way with women Adam,’ Jackson sighed.
‘Don’t tell me you believe in all that witch stuff, it’s just made up to encourage tourism, it’s just legends and superstitions,’ he replied.
‘You forget I’m from Ireland which is full of magic and myth.’ Jackson’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘While I may not share some of the local beliefs I respect their right to them. Just because I don’t believe something doesn’t make it any less real. Besides I’ve found that many legends and myths grew from a grain of truth, so who are we to say what is real and what is not?’
‘Very diplomatic,’ Adam laughed.
‘You can’t run a bar unless you have a lot of experience with patience and diplomacy,’ Jackson smiled. ‘Don’t let it work you up Adam, let the locals believe what they want.’
Adam grunted noncommittally before moving down the bar to serve another patron, leaving Jackson to sigh. He had a feeling it was just going to be one of those nights.
Olivia stepped out into the crisp autumn air watching as her breath was expelled as a fine mist. The temperature had dropped rapidly since she’d been inside the pub. She pulled her coat around herself tighter and made her way down the sidewalk to where she’d parked her car.
The wind picked up and pulled at her clothes and her hair. She wasn’t sure what made her glance up but as she watched the turbulent clouds part to reveal the full pregnant moon she noticed a hazy red ring encircling it. Her heart clenched unexpectedly and she felt her stomach drop. The only other time she had seen a red moon had been the night her mother died. It could only mean one thing, there would be blood spilled this night.
Suddenly uneasy she reached into her pocket pulling out her keys and quickened her pace but an uncomfortable prickling sensation at the back of her neck had her turning back to look.
A man was standing outside the pub leaning nonchalantly against the wall, watching her with dead looking eyes.
Olivia almost stopped in surprise as she took in his appearance. His clothes were dark and nondescript but his hair and his eyes were what had caught her attention. His hair was in complete contradiction to his face. It appeared to be pure white like a little old man but his face was younger and unlined and couldn’t be more than thirty years old. His eyes were also strange; so pale they seemed almost colourless, like those of a serpent.
Ignoring his penetrating gaze she turned away from him and hurried her pace. His eyes burned into her back and ghostly little fingers of unease crept down her spine causing a clammy sweat to form in the hollow of her throat despite the cold night air.
Reaching her car she fumbled with the lock, her breath hissing out in relief as the door opened. She threw herself into the driver’s seat locking the door behind her. The pale coloured man didn’t move, he simply watched her silently and brazenly as she tossed her purse into the passenger seat, threw the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking space in a squeal of tyres.
Adam shrugged into his jacket, his eyes scanning the quiet pub and landing on his boss as he absently stacked stools on top of tables.
‘I’m off now Jackson,’ he caught his attention. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow; do you need me in early?’
‘Nah,’ Jackson shook his head, ‘the usual time will be fine.’
‘Alright I’ll see you then,’ Adam turned to leave.
‘Hold up a minute,’ Jackson called as he lifted the last stool and trotted over to the door, ‘Ted Benson was in earlier and happened to mention that one of his tenants skipped out on him so he’s got a unit going free if you’ve had enough of living out of a motel. It’d probably work out cheaper.’
‘I don’t know,’ Adam frowned. ‘I don’t know if I’m going to stay yet.’
‘Adam,’ Jackson laid his hand on the young guy’s shoulder. ‘You’ve been here six months now. You’ve just bought yourself a car and don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Kaitlin have been sneaking off together every chance you get.’
‘So?’
‘So maybe it’s time to take a chance and see what happens.’
Silence stretched out as Adam watched Jackson carefully.
‘Just think about it.’
Adam nodded as he shrugged off Jackson’s hand and stepped out of the side entrance which opened out into a street across from the parking lot. Hearing the bolt shoot on the door behind him, he pulled up the collar of his jacket against the biting wind and set out across the street.
In his pocket his fingers curled around his car keys as he caught sight of the rusty red car parked opposite him in the lot. It may not be much but it was all his, it had felt good buying something of his own, even if it had been a piece of crap. Maybe he would think about renting one of Benson’s places. He’d lit out of his hometown when he was just sixteen, out from under the thumb of his stern Presbyterian father and his perpetually dissatisfied mother. He’d run as far and as fast as he could from his old life, from town to town for the last eight years. Maybe it was time he took a chance. After all there were worse places than Mercy.
He swung around the corner into the parking lot which was pretty much empty and headed towards his car. Kaitlin was cool after all, and to be honest hot as hell in bed. It must have been all that wild red hair, which matched her personality perfectly. He wasn’t sure what he felt for her but it was definitely something.
Unlocking the door he pulled it open and paused thoughtfully, maybe he would stay for a while. With that thought firmly in mind he resolved to call Benson in the morning.
Suddenly he felt himself being shoved forwards and his forehead cracked hard against the top of the door frame leaving a bright smear of blood against the
rusty paint. His keys fell to the damp ground as he fell backwards feeling the crunch of the dirty gravel beneath him and then blackness took him.
The blackness wasn’t static though, it swirled and shifted, occasionally he caught a blur of colour or movement as he fought to regain consciousness. Small sounds filtered through, a car door slamming, the low hum of an engine, the roar of the wind through huge canopies of trees.
He slowly began to swim through layers of sensory input, gradually fighting his way back to consciousness; the first thing to jerk him towards the surface was the screaming pain in his shoulders. The damp smell of leaves and loam filled his nostrils as he could feel himself moving, being pulled along the ground. Now he understood why his shoulders hurt, his wrists were bound tightly and he was being dragged along the ground by his hands. The whole back of his body felt wet, the ground for the most part was soft except for the odd sharp dig which felt like a twig or a sharp stick. He must be in the woods and swallowing tightly he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred but he could make out half bare branches above him and every so often the moon would shine cold and bright as if it were watching him impassively.
Suddenly the momentum ground to a halt and his hands were dropped unceremoniously to the mossy ground with a muted thud. Adam fought to focus, his vision swam in and out of focus but it was too dark to make anything out except for the dark figure looming over him. He tried to wiggle away but a foot appeared above his face and then the blackness took him again.
This time as he came to, gradually clawing his way through the layers of disorientation, he found himself bathed in very low pale light. A fine mist dampened his swollen face; he tried to swallow through parched lips but only tasted the metallic tang of blood. He tried to move his arms and legs but a searing pain shot through his limbs.
He lifted his head weakly and his eyes began to adjust to the dim light, which he realised was a circle of fat black candles whose flames coughed and spluttered in the rain. His gaze moved to his immobile body and found to his horror that not only were his wrists and ankles bound tightly with rope and staked to the damp muddy ground but that four evil looking meat hooks had been speared through his biceps and calves and planted into the ground, pinning him into place by his own hooked flesh.
Mercy (The Guardians Series 1) Page 3