Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse (42 page)

He stretched his arms over his head and moved his neck from side to side.
 
On his way to the kitchen he stopped and looked at the apartment around him.

"You lied to me."

He gasped and spun his head in the direction of the voice.
 
His gaze fell on the shadow, sitting in the corner chair in the living room.
 
Rob could only see his hands, resting on the arms.

"I mean that in the most complimentary way possible.
 
It's not easy to lie to me, at all.
 
But you pulled it off.
 
You didn't break a sweat, didn't even flinch.
 
I'm impressed."

Jack stood up and stepped forward, his face finally free of the shadows.
 
Rob let out a boyish half smile, one Jack imagined he used on all the ladies he met.

"Yeah, well, I've got talents not many people know about.
 
I have to say I'm surprised, too.
 
Marie didn't kill you?"

"Nope.
 
Very clever plan.
 
You spun a careful tale, sent me in the direction of a werewolf, hoping she'd kill me."

"It's a shame it didn't work.
 
Such a nice woman, even if she's a puppy.
 
Too nice, I guess.
 
You did meet her, right?
 
Tell me that woman doesn't have a body on her."
 
Rob disappeared for a moment into the kitchen.
 
"You want a beer?"

"Very confident, I see."

Rob emerged holding an open bottle.
 
He took a long drink before setting it on the table and pulling out a large knife.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that.
 
My hand's not all the way healed yet, but it's feeling better, more than enough to handle you.
 
You didn't use the element of surprise when I walked in, so you blew that.
 
I'd say this is your last night alive."

Jack smiled.
 
"Is that what you'd say?"

"Definitely.
 
I would just shoot you, but we don't need the neighbors hearing gunshots.
 
They'll just think I'm having rough sex with another of my ladies."

"Wow.
 
It sounds like you really got it all planned out."

"Yup.
 
This blade is pure silver."

"That would be really helpful…if I was a werewolf."

"No, that's not my point.
 
I'm going to kill you with this knife, and then I'm going to kill Marie.
 
I really wanted the first kill to go to her, but you're not giving me a lot of choice.
 
Oh, by the way, did you ever find who killed Erica?
 
I swear, if I just had a little more time with her, I really think I could have—"

Rob didn't finish his sentence.
 
Jack marched toward him, evil in his eyes.
 
Rob took a step back, adopting a defensive stance.
 
He held his bandaged hand close to his face while keeping the knife out.

He lashed out twice in quick succession.
 
A smile touched his lips when he sliced Jack across the face and stabbed him in the stomach.

The smile left his face just as quickly when Jack didn't stop.
 
The knife barely penetrated his flesh, which caught Rob by surprise.
 
He dropped the knife, and it hit the ground when Jack threw the first of many punches to come.

The punch to the jaw knocked Rob back, but Jack's strength was no greater than any other mortal.
 
Rob recovered and threw a punch of his own.
 
Jack didn't bother to dodge.
 
He let Rob hit him three times, each punch losing strength and confidence.
 
The fourth punch Jack ducked, only to throw Rob off balance.
 
Jack grabbed his arm and slammed his head into the dining room table.
 
Rob, so cool with ladies and confident in his own abilities, slumped to the floor.

Jack grabbed the grocery store apron and the knife from the floor.
 
Shoving the apron over Rob's mouth, Jack ran the blade across his bare arm.
 
The skin pulled apart like paper, and Rob screamed into the apron.
 
Blood spilled and pooled on the carpet.
 
Jack held him in place by placing a dining room chair on his chest and sitting on it.

"Let's see," Jack said, admiring the silver knife.
 
"You know nothing about Erica's death.
 
You destroyed my rental car.
 
You sent me on a wild goose chase, hoping the goose would kill me.
 
Well, Rob, I can't think of one reason not to kill you."

He flung the chair aside and pinned Rob to the floor with a knee, holding the knife high over his head.
 
Rob's eyes widened, and he held up his bloody arm to defend himself.

Jack stayed his hand.

His thoughts drifted to Marie Johnson, the mesmerizing werewolf.
 
She was in trouble, and not only concerning her bar.
 
Rob was watching her for an unknown reason, knew what she was.
 
Something bad was going to happen to her.

That was of no concern to Jack's goal.
 
Marie had nothing to do with Erica, besides being her former boss.

But Marie needed help.

Jack hated to admit it to himself, but he liked her.
 
The first words out of her mouth, sarcasm mixed with an admission of what she was, snared him.
 
She rejected the notion of curing her lycanthropy, and loved what she was.
 
She ran without a pack, something unheard of in werewolf circles.
 
Never had he seen another werewolf reverse the change.

He told her they'd never meet again, but he found himself not caring if that weren't true.

Also, leaving her to her fate, was not something Tiffany would do.

He frowned at the thought of his daughter, making him feel things.
 
Silently and facetiously, he cursed the day she stumbled out of that alley, bumping into him and changing his life forever.
 
He missed her terribly, and couldn't wait to see her again.

But things needed to get done first.

Rob still covered his eyes with his arm.
 
Blood dripped on his face, staining his cheeks.
 
Jack gave him a slap.

"Rob, wake up there.
 
Come on, stop pissing your pants.
 
Listen to me carefully.
 
There's a very small chance you live from this.
 
I'm going to ask some questions.
 
You remember this game, right?"

"Y-Yeah, man," he said.
 
"What do you wanna know?"

"Marie Johnson.
 
What's her deal?"

"She's a werewolf."

He pressed the blade of Rob's prized silver knife to his cheek, drawing blood.
 
Ron clenched every muscle and went perfectly still.

"I already know that.
 
Try again."

"My brother's coming.
 
He's coming with a team to kill her.
 
My job's been to watch her, learn everything I can, find out where the rest of her pack is."

Jack shook his head in disgust.
 
"Werewolf hunters."

"Not just hunters.
 
This is big business, highly organized.
 
I've been trying to get in forever.
 
They're not just rednecks running around with a few silver bullets.
 
The organization, it's all over the world.
 
A lot of times, they get
paid
to kill werewolves.
 
Wealthy investors, congressmen, shady back-room dealings.
 
It's insane."

"Someone put a price on Marie's head?"

"No, man.
 
She just got picked up on the radar, who the fuck knows how.
 
A goofy news story, a slip in an identity change, I don't know.
 
But my brother said if I watch her, gather everything I can, it would look good on my resume, and he could get me in.
 
So that's what I've been doing, watching her and working for her at the same time.
 
Then you come along and ruin everything."

Jack shook his head.
 
"So you want to kill werewolves."

"You're damn right."

"Well, Rob, thank you very much for that information."

He twirled the knife in his hand.

"No!
 
Wait!" Rob said, crying.
 
"Look, I really don't know who killed Erica.
 
I had nothing to do with that."

"I know."

"You said you'd let me live!"

"No.
 
I said you had a small chance.
 
And I was lying."

Jack slammed the knife into Rob's throat.
 
The blade went all the way through, pinning him to the floor.
 
He gurgled blood, his mouth moving like a fish out of water.
 
Rob grabbed the handle of the knife as Jack stood up, but it was useless.
 
Jack never looked away as Rob slowly stopped moving, his eyes staring up at him.

Jack's fingerprints didn't exist in any computerized system, but he took the time regardless to wipe the apartment clean.

A new plan formed in his mind.
 
A simple but effective plan.

He just had to use the resources around him.

Marie smelled the delicious meal even before she walked into the apartment building.
 
Steak, potatoes, steamed broccoli.
 
The delicious scents made her mouth water.
 
The fact that it was two in the morning wrinkled her brow in curiosity, but the human world was a strange place.
 
They watched TV whenever they wanted, had sex whenever they wanted, and apparently ate steak whenever they wanted.

She adjusted her clothes, having just put them on after a run in the woods.
 
She didn't bother stepping into her shoes, content to carry them over her shoulder.
 
It was such a short walk from the woods to her apartment building.
 
Her hunt of a rabbit didn't go as planned, and she simply wasn't in the mood to kill.
 
Still, the scent of that steak dinner reminded her how empty her fridge was.

The scent grew stronger as she approached her front door.
 
A new smell blended in.

Chocolate.

Shaking her head, she didn't even bother fishing for the key.
 
She slowly opened the door, and the wonderful scents smacked her in the face.

From the front door she could see half of Jack, working in the kitchen.
 
He dressed similar to the night before.
 
Nice clothes, his sleeves rolled up, collar open.
 
He looked very good.
 
She wondered if whatever curse he talked about affected his appearance, just as vampires and werewolves naturally were attractive.

Jack moved through the kitchen gracefully.
 
He shifted a steamer full of broccoli to a cold burner.
 
Marie didn't even own a steamer.
 
He squatted down to check the potatoes in the oven.
 
One steak was already cooked, sitting on a plate on the counter.
 
He had another steak ready to cook when his shoulders stiffened, finally realizing he was being watched.
 
He turned and gave Marie a polite nod, which she imagined was a substitute for a smile.

"You almost have perfect timing," he said.

"What exactly is going on here?"
 
She closed the door behind her.

"Dinner.
 
What's it look like?
 
I hope you haven't eaten."

"Dinner at two a.m. is a little weird, but no, I haven't."

"Good.
 
Because some raw, bloody deer meat is nothing compared to some of the miracles I can perform in a kitchen."

"How would you know?
 
Have you tried raw, bloody deer meat?"

"Can't say I have."

Marie dropped her shoes to the floor.
 
She adjusted her shirt, conscious that it was still crooked.

"So, breaking into people's apartments…is that like a hobby for you?"

"Those are strong words."
 
He pointed to the patio door.
 
"The bar holding the door in place, all you have to do is shake the door a little, and it pops out.
 
Is that really breaking in?"

"Yes, it is."

He shrugged.
 
"Eh, whatever."

Marie lowered her eyes, only for a moment.

"I guess I should apologize for trying to kill you last night.
 
I lost my temper.
 
But you did burn my bar down.
 
So, I'll keep my apology to myself."

"That's okay.
 
I should apologize for wrecking your bar.
 
But I really don't care.
 
And I'm not good at pretending to feel things I don't.
 
So, no apology."

"Wow.
 
You really have a way with words."

"I've been told that before.
 
I'm guessing you like your steak rare?
 
Do you even like it cooked?"

"Rare?
 
Hell, no.
 
Cook that thing.
 
Well done."

"Hmmm.
 
I always thought werewolves—?"

"Do you see a wolf here?"
 
She stood in the dining room and held out her arms, turning in place.