by Ts McKinney
I had no freaking idea what he was talking about, but since I just wanted him gone so I could take a shower, I nodded and smiled.
He pulled his hands out of pockets and offered me a handshake. “The name’s Alastair. If you get bored and need somebody fun to show you around town, hunt me up. I’ve lived here my entire life, so there’s not a thing or place I don’t know.” After we shook hands, he tucked his longish hair behind his ear. “How old are you, anyway? You seem awfully young for somebody with a master’s degree. I was expecting somebody a little older when my mom told me to drop the key off for the new tenant.”
Huh. Odd how the news about me had traveled so fast. I’d only told the lady who hired me at the museum about my educational background. And yeah, I may have fudged a little on the Master’s degree thing, implying I already had it, instead of just being a candidate for it. I hadn’t expected the news to go viral.
Why wouldn’t he leave? He had to see the puddle of water I was standing in because my clothes had dripped a river’s worth of water. “I’m twenty-four,” I said, answering his question. I started walking toward the door, hoping he would take the hint and pull a disappearing act. Thankfully, he followed behind me.
“Twenty-four? You look younger.”
“Thanks. I think. Well, it was nice meeting you.” I opened the door and hoped he took the hint. He did.
“See ya later, Nicholas. Don’t forget what I said about watching your back and tucking your energy away in Salem,” he warned as he moved toward the threshold.
I just nodded again and looked down at myself. Where exactly was my “energy” sticking out? What the fuck did he mean by energy? I wasn’t sending out any energetic vibes. If anything, I was begging that he pull a disappearing act. I laughed, feeling uncomfortable. “Don’t tell me you believe in all the witchcraft hype?”
“Witchcraft hype?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “I wouldn’t go around making comments like that or you won’t be very popular in Salem or Marblehead. Don’t deny the power and beauty of witchcraft.”
I saw that it had miraculously stopped storming since I got inside my rental unit and I stood in the doorway as he went to his car, looking up at the sky.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered dryly as he started down my walkway.
“Call me if you get bored!” His voice echoed against the cobblestone streets of Marblehead.
I frowned as I watched him disappear into the darkness. I glanced up at the sky and wondered if the moon and stars would whisper to me here. Were they still trying to give me a name? Was it the name of my true love? I came out from under the porch and gazed up at the sky, trying to get a glimpse of the moon. As I did, a lightning bolt ripped through the clouds, lighting up the porch and scaring the shit out of me with a huge clap of thunder. I was beginning to be convinced that someone was very aware a Bailey had come back to Marblehead.
Chapter Two
The shower water never got good and hot. I never got a fire started in the fireplace. The blankets weren’t furry, and the pizza wasn’t all that great. But I did make it to work on my first day with a whole two minutes to spare. Amazing really, since I’d had disturbing dreams all night long. Someone kept calling to me, over and over. They were just ahead of me in a mist, walking toward me, I was sure. But just as they got closer, it seemed like a thick blanket of fog dropped down on top of me so I couldn’t find my way. It even muffled the sound. Suffice to say I didn’t get much sleep at all.
I was usually boringly punctual, always trying to be at least fifteen minutes early, and running late really fucked with my head. I could have very easily written this move off as a total loss, but then I met the lady I’d be working with at the museum, Anabella Buchanan or just Bella, as she told me to call her, and my day brightened immediately. She seemed incredibly nice, helpful, and very intelligent actually. Her love for history was as evident as her enthusiasm. Sure, I’d mostly accepted the job so I could research my family history in the very town where it had all started, but enjoying the new job in Salem while I was here would make the adjustment period a heck of a lot easier.
It wasn’t the famous Salem Witch museum, but I could tell this smaller museum was well funded and exhibited a love for Salem’s unique history while still focusing some on area history as well. From my brief research before accepting the job, I’d found that it was privately funded and had been in operation for nearly one hundred and fifty years. The same family, the Goodhearts, had maintained ownership all that time. While they dealt with the historical aspects of Salem and witchcraft, they also seemed to focus a great deal of time and energy on the newer, more modern tales of sorcery, witchcraft, and warlocks. From what I’d seen online, their library was extensive. I couldn’t wait to dig in and see what I could find regarding the Bailey name.
“We are so incredibly excited to have you on board, Mr. Bailey,” Annabella gushed with enthusiasm. “It isn’t often we receive many resumes with your credentials that are willing to work for our pay scale. The other museum is going to be green with envy when they hear that we’ve snagged someone with a Master’s Degree.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Guilt over my lie regarding my education kept my lips firmly sealed shut. I was a firm believer that while education is important, experience is far more valuable. I didn’t suppose there was any need to mention that little fact, though. No need pointing out my shortcomings to my new boss. “I’m the lucky one. Working in Salem has been a lifelong dream of mine. Trust me when I say I’m more excited to be here than you are to have me.”
She rubbed her hands together with obvious excitement and said, “Let’s give you a tour of the museum first. After that, I’ll show you to your office, and then we’ll review Morgan’s plans for your first project. She wants to create a spell room where we display some of the more prominent casting spells, old and new, and, of course, include all the usual, unusual, and downright gross ingredients. The modern spells and items won’t be a problem. Your focus will be on what our witches and warlocks used hundreds of years ago.” She stood up and motioned for me to follow her. “Don’t worry about that now, though. I’ll give you all the information you need and point you in the right direction for research when the time comes. Right now, I want you to focus on the beauty of our museum. It is three stories of pure witchy heaven.”
I tried to smile at her passion for all things witchy, but I’m afraid my face said “what the fuck” instead. It sounded a lot like Bella was a one hundred percent believer in witchcraft, and I wasn’t sure where I stood on the whole witchcraft platform. If it weren’t for my family history and the brutal fact that it looked like someone had put a curse on us, I’d categorize all witchcraft as hogwash and hocus pocus.
I followed her down the hall and wondered what pure witchy heaven looked like. From the outside, I had to admit the building was above and beyond impressive. It fit nicely with the Colonial architecture of Salem but still managed to be larger and more majestic than the surrounding structures. It was newer than most of the buildings in the downtown area, but had been built to appear old. I actually found it shocking that they had managed to get a building permit in the historic area at all.
“The offices are all along this corridor and kept separate from the museum areas on the first and second floors. The third floor is where the owner, Morgan Goodheart, lives. That floor is, of course, strictly off limits. I won’t take you to see your office now, but it’s at the end of this hall. Morgan’s office is right next to yours. I’m sure she’ll be a huge asset as you learn the ins and outs of the museum’s workings.”
My office being located right next to the owner’s sounded like loads of fun. Not.
About that time, a tall woman exploded from one of the doorways and started in our direction. She was on her cell phone, laughing with whoever was on the other end of the line. Since all her attention was focused on the phone call, I grabbed a good look at her sexy curves without her noticing.
She was fucking gorgeous—as in model material. Long legs, a trim waist, drool-worthy boobs, and inky black hair that hung in cascading waves of silk—all formed a package of perfection. Her pale skin was flawless, and she had the sexiest slanted eyes I’d ever seen in my life. Except that there was something…off about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew it was there, teasing my subconscious.
I loved women…suspected I might love men, even more, but I’d never reacted to one quite this way. My body was buzzing with an electric current that was probably a mixture of lust and arousal, but it was so strong, so overwhelming, that it felt almost painful. The tips of my fingers started throbbing and burning, and I couldn’t help but be thankful that it was my fingertips instead of my cock. Explaining a raging hard on to my new boss might be difficult or, at the very least, uncomfortable. Feeling strange, I crammed my hands into the pockets of my khaki’s.
About the same time that I made a move to hide my hands, her head snapped up and purple-blue eyes locked onto me. She was holding a handful of files, her cell, and a steaming cup of coffee, all of which hit the floor of the hallway when her eyes locked with mine. For a split second, I wondered if I should be impressed with her reaction to seeing me for the first time. Thanks to good genes, I’m not hard on the eyes, but I’ve never managed a reaction quite like hers before. My good mood evaporated, though, when she opened her mouth.
“Nico!” She hissed in a sexy voice that, unfortunately, sounded like a mixture of shock and disgust, heavy on the disgust.
Bella had immediately dropped to her knees and began retrieving all the items Morgan had dropped, soaking up the spilled coffee with the hem of her skirt as she repeatedly mumbled one apology after another—like she’d done something to cause Morgan to lose control of her grip.
Unsure of how she knew my nickname or how I should react to her, I decided to try a professional, polite technique I used when I pretended to be an adult. Closing the distance between us, I held out my hand and said, “Nicholas Bailey. It’s very nice to meet you.” My hand hung in the air between us as she glared down at it, and I could practically feel the fury bubbling inside her veins. The eyes that had appeared a pretty violet just a few seconds ago suddenly looked to be an icy gray. When she made no attempt to shake my hand, I finally tucked it back into my pocket and weakly added, “It’s great to be on board. I’m excited about joining your team.”
She glared harder.
Bella’s nervous whimper reminded me that she was still on the ground between us.
“Here, let me help, Bella,” I said as I started to kneel to help clean up Morgan’s mess.
“Don’t. You. Move.”
The words were spoken with such a cold authority that I froze in a half crouch position. “Excuse me?” I asked in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you actually came here. Can you not take a hint? I did everything in my power to send you the message not to come here, but you came anyway. Why are you here, Nico? Did you come to Salem to make my job easier, or did you actually think you could somehow avoid your fate? At least you’ve saved me the trouble of having to hunt you down and take care of our usual business.”
And soooo she was crazy. The pretty ones always were.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I answered softly, backing away slowly. It was my feeble attempt to not startle or scare the crazy person. When you see a wild animal in its habitat, you should try to slowly remove yourself in a non-threatening way. Wild animals and crazy people—it was all the same, right?
“This…this gentleman is our new employee, Miss Goodheart,” Bella stammered nervously from her submissive spot on the floor. “You told me it was okay to hire someone, preferably someone with a history degree, to help us with the numerous projects we have on the agenda for this year. Mr. Bailey sent in his resume, and when I saw his credentials, I took the liberty of making him an offer for the open position. He’s…he has a master’s in history…so I went ahead and hired him. I thought you would be impressed.”
“Did you now?” Morgan said in a voice that sounded eerily threatening. “Well…you and I shall discuss that later. Run along, Annabella. Nico and I have some things to discuss.”
Bella scampered away like a scolded puppy, never once even looking in my direction. I turned back to Morgan and noticed that her eyes were changing colors again. They’d started purple, turned icy gray, and were now a dark, ugly color…headed in the direction of black. She must wear special contacts that would change colors, like mood contacts. It was probably something she wore to add some mystical magic while she gave tours of the museum. I wasn’t sure how the tourists felt about it, but they gave me the creeps.
“I’ll ask you one more time, Nico,” she said. “Why did you come here anyway after all the hints I sent you to stay away?”
Her crazy badge, like her contacts, just flipped over to bitch badge. I had a strong feeling that Morgan and I weren’t going to get along. I leaned against the wall and answered her as casually as I could, “Well, I came for the job, but it looks like I’m going to get so much more.” Lazily I glanced down at the files Annabella had stacked neatly but still rested on the floor. The top file was labeled “NB May 15th”. Well, well, well. I came to Salem looking for answers—maybe I’d just stumbled upon one. “Why do you think I’m here, Morgan Goodheart?” I studied her body language, looking for anything that would give me a fucking clue about what was going on, but I didn’t pick up on much. She wasn’t afraid or intimidated by my presence…just surprised and annoyed. The electric currents that had been sizzling through my blood suddenly fizzled away, leaving me feeling strangely weak and vulnerable.
When I looked at her eyes, they were once again purple.
“I think you’re here looking for answers, aren’t you, silly boy? I think you’ve traced your pathetic ancestors back to Salem and you’ve come all this way in a desperate attempt to understand why your family’s cursed.” She took a step in my direction. Her lips were twisted in an evil smirk. “You’ve wasted your time, sweet Nico. You’ll find no answers to your questions here.” She laughed and added, “Nor will you amuse yourself with a job with me. You’re fired. Go away, love. I’ll see you again in a few days. It isn’t our time. Not just yet.”
Panic exploded in my body. I somehow knew that all the answers I’d been seeking were right in front of me, but she, the carrier of answers, was about to walk out of my life. I’d been fired. Desperately, I asked, “What do you know about my family? About the curse?”
Those eyes glittered with amusement. “Ah, Nico,” she purred. “You look so much like the original, so much like Nicodemus, only even more handsome, perhaps. He was such a thorn in…my relatives’ sides. I’m glad it didn’t end with the death of the sweet, but oh so stupid, Nicodemus. The little bastard only did one thing right in his life, and that was getting a child started in the belly of one of my…associates. I thought it was a nice touch—so nice to be able to get rid of Nico over and over again, don’t you think?”
She stepped closer and ran the tip of her fingernail down my cheek. I forced myself to remain perfectly still, which was quite an accomplishment considering every fiber of my being was screaming for me to run for my life.
“A woman, Nico,” she said again, like the idea of my many times great grandfather impregnating a woman was totally out of the question, borderline ludicrous. “What was Nicodemus thinking? Betraying Corbin like that?” Her grin widened. “It destroyed him, you know. Broke his heart to the point that he became weak, unable to protect himself, and I was able to fill that void. The poor bastard preferred death to living in a world without his Nicodemus in it.”
Her laughter echoed off the walls of the long hallway.
Corbin again. I felt like I should know him by now, but I ignored her taunts, knowing she was only trying to distract me.
“The curse, Morgan Goodheart. What do you know about the curse?” I demanded. I
t was easy to see my time with her was coming to an end, and it was ending without one goddamned answer to any of my questions.
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and her laughter evaporated. “What do I know of the curse? I know you have less than two weeks left to live, Nico. Tell me, love, do you have a bastard child that will need to be dealt with, as well?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Two weeks, Nico. Enjoy them…but don’t enjoy them here. If I catch you in my territory again, you won’t live long enough to see the curse fulfilled.”
I stepped in front of her to block her from walking away. “So… the curse is real? You really think I’m going to die? This is something you’ve heard about? Part of Salem’s history?”
Her singsong laughter filled the hallway again. “I’m not answering any of your silly questions, Nico. You came to Salem for answers, so let’s watch you work for them. According to Annabella, you’re a historian; let’s see what you learned while you were tucked away in those Tennessee mountains. You have time to learn the facts and see if there’s anything that can be done to reverse the curse. And here’s a hint—there’s nothing you can do about it. Tick tock, Nico.” She turned and walked in the opposite direction, hips sashaying like she was on a stage and ready for a pole dancing routine. “Leave Salem, Nico. Do your research in Marblehead, where you belong.”
I watched her leave, knowing there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it nor would I be able to get any answers from her. So, I’d lost my job on my first day, but I didn’t call it a total loss. I’d learned some new information. On a bright note, it looked like Salem did hold the answers to my past and the family curse. On a not-so-bright-note, it sounded like the curse was real…if one believed in that kind of shit.
