This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller by Shani Struthers Page A

various seats, talking animatedly, their laughter carrying. Rob spied an empty table in a corner and pointed her in the direction of it. She didn’t need to tell him what she wanted, he knew well enough by now, a cold glass of white wine, anything but Sauvignon Blanc.
    It took a few minutes for him to return, minutes in which she forced her mind to remain as still as a millpond, refusing to let any more thoughts encroach, or any visions. Here at least, surrounded by so many living, breathing people, she felt safe – it was just so alive .
    Finishing the first glass of wine, she asked for another, desperate to benefit from its relaxing effect. Rob didn’t even query it, he simply returned with two more drinks for them to down in record speed too. Not usually one to show his emotions, she sensed he was as tense as she was, her mood rubbing off on him.
    Their conversation warmed up with the second round of drinks, but they still carefully avoided the subject of what had just happened. Graduating from stock phrases such as ‘I can’t believe how busy it is in here’ and ‘It’s only late afternoon, yet the place is packed’ to ‘I know I’ve been a bit jumpy but this place, it takes some getting used to doesn’t it?’ and ‘It does, it really does, like we said before, it’s different to other cities but it’s beautiful, Lou, you can’t deny that.’ No she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. They had a day and a half left – she wouldn’t count Monday as they were leaving Venice early in order to catch the mid-morning plane – so they needed to enjoy what time they had left to the full, to enjoy each other. All too soon they’d return to their busy lives, working late, sometimes only catching up with each other at bedtime, too exhausted to even chat, just kiss each other goodnight. On some days she swore she talked to the postman more than Rob. That’s why this time is precious , she reminded herself. What you have is precious . It wasn’t lacking, not in any way.
    The wine doing its job, she wanted to laugh at how she’d behaved earlier, at the eerie masks and the veiled lady. She’d have to stop watching so many horror films, switch to rom-coms instead, take notes and learn a little – remember what she’d clearly forgotten. One thing was certain; she’d be on her guard for such nonsense from now on. Pleased with her decision, she brightened considerably and they continued chatting, continued drinking, another glass of wine slipping down very nicely.
    “We haven’t had lunch!” Louise said suddenly.
    “No, we haven’t.” Rob seemed surprised too. He looked over his shoulder, towards the bar. “They’ve got cicchetti at the bar, do you fancy some?”
    “Cicchetti, what’s that?”
    “It’s the Italian version of tapas, there’s lots of different dishes. I’ll get us a selection.” He looked at his empty beer glass, “And another round as well.”
    Feasting on more alcohol, and the cicchetti, including marinated olives, calamari with garlic aioli and various cheeses, Louise had to admit it, she was drunk, but happily drunk, the events of earlier tucked away nicely, a door closed on them. You’re taking a leaf out of Rob’s book there , she thought, but not with anger.
    Deciding they needed something more substantial than cicchetti to eat, they left the cosy confines of the bar and returned outside. The rain had stopped but night had really taken hold – the lights around them so dim it was much blacker than it should be.
    “Where to?” she asked.
    “Another bar?”
    “More drinking? I’m not sure I can.”
    “Oh come on, that’s not the Lou I know and love!”
    She groaned. “The spirit is willing, but you know what they say about the flesh.”
    “The flesh is gorgeous,” he said, reaching out to hug her, making her feel hungry again, but not for food.
    “Shall we just go home,” she whispered into his ear, breathing him in.
    “Home? The hotel you mean?”
    She nodded; he was