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Was it her alarm, she thought, surfacing from the troubling, but intense, dream she'd been having. Opening her eyes, she saw that her hotel room, all the way at the end of a quiet corridor, was still fully dark.
No. It wasn't her alarm, she realized. Her phone was ringing insistently. Feeling worried now, she grabbed it up, trying her best to sound wide awake even though she was still far from it.
A ringing phone at this hour? Her stomach curled in anticipation as she took the call, struggling into a sitting position.
"Juliette Hart here," she said. Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded hoarse and sleepy. She dreaded what the news would be, at this time. It was very early. Her exhausted body and mind were telling her so.
The crisp voice on the other side sounded wide awake, intense, and very stressed. It was Lucien, she realized. And as he spoke, she felt the last vestiges of sleep fall away, and her heart start to pound fast.
"Juliette. There's been another body found. He's killed again, and we need to get to the scene. Now."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Katarina Rodic was immersed in thought as she headed along the quiet roadway that led from the study center to the flat she shared with three other girls. The only good thing about this tiring walk was that it gave her a view of the Eiffel Tower, brilliantly lit, in the distance.
She'd found tonight difficult. Computer programming was the future, which was why she'd signed up for this evening course. After all, she didn't want to be a café waitress her whole life long. But she'd always thought she'd go for something different, like the arts. Theater called to her. She wasn't one for mathematical problems and cold, hard logic.
So she was struggling in this course. It just didn't make sense and she couldn't wrap her head around it.
She sighed, the tension in her shoulders so great it felt like she had a hundred pound weight on her back, instead of just her laptop bag. Perhaps it was time to give up, she thought. But then again, she was already so close to the end of the course, perhaps she could just push through and get the certificate.
If she could only figure out exactly how the lecturer had reached his conclusions today in the example he’d given. But it was a mystery to her.
"If I get the certificate, it means is that I'll have to spend the rest of my life doing that, as an actual job," she muttered. Suddenly, it was an intimidating thought.
"What's that?"
She glanced around. The guy behind her, Torsten, was closer than she'd thought. Close enough to hear what she was saying.
And to be honest, she'd found this guy, with his height, intense features, and his weird sense of humor, to be rather creepy. Maybe it was just that she wasn't in the right headspace. But she definitely hadn't meant him to overhear her now.
"Nothing," she said shortly, knowing the response sounded rude, but not caring.
"Oh, sorry." He looked apologetic. "I thought you were speaking to me."
"No, I wasn't. I was going over some things in my own head," she said.
He was looking at her with that piercing gaze, taking in her dyed red hair, pale clear skin, and her broad, pretty face. He was top of the class in their computer programming unit. He didn't have any problems understanding the logic.
"Are you okay with what we learned today? I'd love to help you if - if you need it," he offered, now looking anxious.
It was very obvious that she was not okay with what they'd learned. Anyone could see that. But she also didn't want this guy helping her. She'd rather make her own way. She wasn't in the mood for people being kind. Most likely he just wanted to date her and wasn’t offering any real help at all.
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I think I just need to take it slowly. I'll get it eventually."
"It's not a race," he said, with a small smile. "You don't have to be the best at it. It's just important to understand the basics."
"I've had the lecture already," she told him grumpily. "I don't need another one from you."
She'd thought that he might be offended. Even she was surprised at her own rudeness. It was like she was venting her frustration over the course onto him.
But he laughed. "I'm sorry. I won't ask again, but if you need help, I will gladly give it. Sometimes just a little good advice can go a long way."
He was being kind. But she didn't want his kindness. She wanted to be able to figure it out on her own.
"Thanks," she said, her voice as flat as her mood.
"No problem," Torsten said, and then, as if sensing her discomfort, he stepped back.
