A Job From Hell (Ancient Legends #1)

he wanted a break.
    Enough dark thoughts already. Pushing my
mental baggage to the back of my mind, I sighed and opened a cabinet. A
toothbrush, shower gel, lavender soap and moisturizing lotion occupied the
upper shelf. In another cabinet I found white towels and a bathrobe. I stripped
off my jeans, red jumper and underwear, and jumped under the shower. The hot
water relaxed my aching muscles and washed away the invisible signs of a long
day. Wrapped in a towel, I walked back to the bedroom, and sank into the clean
scent of recently washed sheets, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
    A thud woke me up in the middle of the
night. Disoriented, I looked around in the soft light cast by the lamp I had
forgotten to switch off. My head felt groggy as I threw a glance at my phone on
the bedside table. It was shortly before three a.m. Everything seemed quiet,
and yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something or someone was in the
room, watching me. For a moment I thought I glimpsed pale blue eyes staring at
me from the door. I spun around, heart jumping in my throat. No one there. No
picture frames on the wall to hide a spy hole either. Shivering, I walked to
the window and peeked through the curtains. The moon hid behind thick rain
clouds. The room had noticeably cooled down.
    I returned to my bed, pulling the sheets
tighter around my shivering body, when I heard a thud outside my bedroom door.
It was an old house and the rain and wind would make the wood creak, the living
shapes of furniture simulating the threat of approaching danger, so nothing to
worry there. Holding my breath, I listened for more sounds. The house was
silent again. My bones felt stiff and tired, but any signs of sleepiness were
gone. I slipped into my bathrobe, hesitating in front of the door. Should I
really leave the comforting safety of my room and risk waking up my new
employer? He might fire me for disturbing his beauty sleep.
    Oh, sod it.
    If I didn’t check, I’d morph into an obsessive
lunatic for the rest of the night. I crept to the door and opened it in one go,
cringing at the squeaking sound of old hinges. The light from the lamp threw
dark shadows on the thick rug covering the wooden floor. Mentally preparing
myself to face whatever loomed in the shadows, I stepped into the cool
corridor.
    The hall was empty.

Chapter 2

 
    It had been a long night of tossing and
turning. In the morning, I stretched under the sheets, enjoying the pleasant
heat of the room, when I realized it was already after nine. I was supposed to
start my first day of work, not sleep in. Darn it. Trust me to lose a job because
of some lavender-scented pillows.
    I threw the sheets aside and rummaged
through the closet to find a pair of black jeans and a white shirt. I pulled
one out, all crumpled. Smelling the armpits, I grimaced. Why did it reek like I
just finished a double shift at McDonald’s ?
With one arm I retrieved another shirt while brushing my teeth with the other
hand, then stopped to take another sniff and scowled again. This one didn’t
smell much better, but I had no more time to waste. I put it on and dashed down
the stairs to the large kitchen.
    The sun spilled bright rays through the
double glazed windows. I peeked left and right and inhaled, relieved that no
one was about. Perfect. If no one waited, then no one would know I was late.
Whoever lived here was either still asleep, or they had left already. I snorted
to myself. As if. The mansion was situated in the middle of the
Highlands—where would they go? The forest extended for miles behind the
back of the house. There were only two options: either McAllister worked from
home, which wasn’t likely. What with those high trees and probably no Internet
connection. Or he drove to the nearest city, Inverness, which was two hours away.
I chuckled, feeling enlightened because everything suddenly made sense. The
name rang familiar, as though I somehow knew him without ever meeting him. I
figured McAllister had to be a semi-famous writer—old, afraid of company,
preferring solitude—because no one else would choose to live in this
forsaken area.
    I opened a few kitchen cabinets. The steel pots
and pants gleamed in the morning light. The cooking utensils in our family
never looked this polished. I peeked inside the drawers, marveling at the pristineness
of this place. Why did I take this job? As much as it pained me to acknowledge,
I knew nothing about housekeeping. Dallas said