Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse (48 page)

"They're Erica's."

Jack sifted through the drawer and found other clothes that didn't belong to him.
 
One of Erica's old shirts, a few bras, several pair of socks.

Marie pulled out a photo album.
 
She stood shoulder to shoulder with Jack and leaned close so he could see.

She shivered as she slowly turned page after page.
 
Jack wasn't surprised in the least.
 
Mortals broke so easily.
 
He was hung from a noose by the people in his own town, chased naked in the woods.
 
They tried to murder him for associating with a witch.

Jack killed them all, and he moved on.
 
Not even two centuries without sleep could completely break him.

The mortal Charlie was obviously broken.

The photo album was a window into a twisted soul.
 
Every other picture was of Erica.
 
Charlie had been stalking her.
 
There were shots of her getting in her car, moving items from a U-Haul truck, walking into the bar to work.
 
There were also photos that violated her privacy more blatantly, taken through her windows.
 
Charlie must have climbed up a tree and waited patiently, lost in his sick mind as he waited for the perfect time to snap a picture.

"Holy shit," Marie whispered.

The album got worse.
 
Pictures were altered to include Charlie.
 
Heads from bystanders were covered, his face glued in their place, to give him a sense of belonging in her life.
 
There were pornographic photos, printed from a website, with both Charlie and Erica's faces covering the actors and actresses.

Marie's hands shook as she closed the book.
 
"This is sick."

"Right under the nose," Jack said quietly.
 
"Son of a bitch."

He passed Marie to go to the kitchen.
 
She leaned in the hallway and spoke to herself as much as Jack.

"I thought I smelled something faint.
 
But I wasn't sure.
 
Jesus…he stole her clothes.
 
Did you see those pictures?"

"I did."
 
Jack opened a drawer next to the fridge and found the largest knife he could find.
 
"I was right next to you."

"What's with the knife?"

He looked at her.
 
"What part of
make him pay
was lost on you?"

"You're going to wait here in his apartment?"

"You catch on fast.
 
Oh, let me guess, it's wrong what I'm doing?
 
To kill out of revenge, that's a no-no?"

"Reign in your little attitude over there," she said, her eyes narrowing.
 
"Don't act like you know what I'm thinking.
 
If someone killed a person you care about, you kill them back.
 
It's that simple.
 
I'll even show you a nice spot in the woods to bury him.
 
But you have other things you need to do."

"Like what?"

"Like pay me, for one thing."
 
She gestured around her.
 
"I did my part.
 
And take me home."

Jack was quiet a moment, admiring Marie's strength.
 
Not many people had the courage to tell him to
reign in his attitude
.

"You're right," he said.
 
"Let's go.
 
Leave the door unlocked."

The pair walked to Jack's car.
 
He popped the trunk and handed her a workout bag.

"Fifty grand, as promised," he said.
 
"Probably the easiest money you've ever earned."

She smiled.
 
"It's pretty close."

"I'll arrange to have five grand sent to your apartment, to help cover Erica's burial costs."

"No, Jack.
 
You don't have to do that—"

"We'll be completely even.
 
I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing."

She slung the bag over her shoulder.
 
"Except my bar—"

"No.
 
If a drunk driver crashed into your bar, he wouldn't
owe
you anything, except maybe an ass-kicking from you.
 
And you've already tried that with me.
 
Our business transaction is done."

She nodded and took a deep breath as she adjusted the bag.
 
She held her hand out, but laughed as she pulled it back.

"Ah, that's right.
 
No handshaking.
 
I'll walk home.
 
It's not too far."

Marie turned to leave, but Jack grabbed her gently by the arm.
 
She looked down at his hand, a curious look on her face.

"Are you hungry?"

"I am."

"Let's go get some breakfast.
 
You can pay, since you've got money now."

Jack gestured to the trunk.
 
Marie smirked as she set the bag inside.
 
Their time together hadn't yet come to an end.

"You said you'd cover expenses."

"True, but the deal is done.
 
This isn't an expense.
 
This is two people having breakfast."

"You can't ask me out for a meal, and then insist I pay."

"You sound like every other woman out there."

"You're an asshole.
 
You know that?"

"If you want to see me without clothes on, Marie, all you have to do is ask."

"Shut up and get in the car.
 
There's a restaurant just down the road."

"Good.
 
Pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Marie wasn't sure if dining with Jack was a good idea.
 
Her thoughts were all over the place.
 
She didn't know which direction her life was suddenly heading.
 
Werewolf hunters were on the way.
 
She had the money to move, start over once again, lay low.
 
She needed to go home and pack, make plans, stare at a map.
 
There were so many things she needed to do.

All she wanted to do was have breakfast with Jack.
 
It made no sense whatsoever.
 
They had nothing.
 
They weren't friends.
 
He found what he was looking for, and wouldn't be in town much longer.
 
She wouldn't be staying in Sandy Cliffs either.
 
Still, she wanted to get to know the man who'd taken so much from her, and was about as charming as a rattlesnake.

Strangely, his lack of charm was charming.
 
Everything he said came from the heart.
 
He didn't compliment or flirt to get what he wanted.
 
Game playing wasn't in his nature.
 
Jack meant was he said.

"This place looks like it sucks."

"Shhh!" she said, smacking him on the arm.
 
They waited patiently, or in Jack's case, impatiently, for a table.
 
"Keep it down, or they'll spit in your food."

"In that case, I'll spit on
them
, while I'm rubbing their faces on my shoe."

"Would you calm down?
 
I've been here before.
 
The food is good.
 
Trust me."

"Eh, I haven't known you long enough for that.
 
Sorry, but I'll hold onto my trust a little longer."

A hostess finally approached them.

"Good morning!
 
Would you like a table for two?"

"No," Jack said first.
 
"We just want to stand here and stare at people eat.
 
See how long it takes to make them uncomfortable."
 
He pointed across the room.
 
"That woman over there has been undressing me with her eyes for the past five minutes."

The hostess was horrified.
 
Marie quickly stepped forward, wearing an apologetic smile.

"Please, ignore him," she said.
 
"Yeah, a table is fine."

Marie glared at Jack as they were led to a table.
 
He simply shrugged, and actually blew a kiss to the woman he pointed at.
 
Her husband turned in the booth, his anger unmistakable.
 
Part of Marie was embarrassed and appalled.

The other part struggled to hold in her laughter.

"Undressing you with her eyes," she said as they settled in.
 
"You probably think the hostess wants you, too."

"Actually, no.
 
She was giving you the lick-me face.
 
It must be those jeans you're wearing."

"Seriously?" she said, and glanced at the waitress.
 
Sure enough, Marie caught her staring, and the hostess quickly looked away.
 
"You're really good at that crap."

Jack glanced at a menu.
 
"All you have to do is keep your eyes open.
 
I tell my daughter all the time.
 
But…"
 
He held her gaze.
 
"I couldn't see what was right under Erica's apartment.
 
Thank you."

She shrugged.
 
"Hey, you paid me for a service."

"Still, that doesn't mean I can't thank you."

Neither one of them looked away.
 
He didn't follow with sarcasm.
 
There wasn't an edge in his voice.
 
His gratitude was genuine.

"You're welcome."

Marie was still deciding what she wanted when Jack placed the menu down, already having made his decision.
 
She was in the middle of a drink of water when he spoke.

"So, that area in the woods you were talking about, is that where you buried the people you killed?"

She choked on her water.
 
It went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed for nearly half a minute, water dribbling down her chin.
 
Jack handed her a napkin and waited.
 
She drew the attention of the hostess, who stopped by to check on her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Jack waved away her concern.
 
"I think we'd be a lot better if you climbed on one these tables and did a striptease."

"I'm fine," Marie managed to say.

Marie couldn't keep her face from turning red.
 
She wanted to make an impression.
 
She'd spent fifteen minutes picking out the right clothes, showing off her figure, but without making it look like she was showing off.
 
Drooling water down her shirt certainly wasn't what she had in mind.

His choice in conversation could take some of the blame.

"Wow," she said.
 
"You skip small talk and go right for the jugular, don't you?"

"This is just a guess, but you killed some people in this town."

Her eyes went wide.
 
"Would you keep your voice down?"

"You were born here.
 
From the pictures I'd seen, somewhere in the 30's.
 
You didn't live here all your life, for obvious reasons.
 
But now, you're back, trying to start a bar and a new life for yourself.
 
Somewhere in there, is a bite from a werewolf, and probably a kill or two to chase you out of town."

Marie shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
 
Glancing around, she was relieved to see no one was staring at them.
 
Her ears picked up conversations.
 
Meaningless chatter, a subtle argument or two, but nothing about the odd pair in the back.

"Can't we just talk about stupid things?
 
I'll bat my lashes and giggle, and we can throw little flirty lines at each other?"

"We could," he said, smiling.
 
"But then we truly wouldn't get to know each other."

"What's the point in getting to know each other?
 
You're leaving soon, right?
 
And I've got my own problems to deal with.
 
We're not friends."

"You're right.
 
I'm not fast to toss the
friend
word around."
 
He looked her up and down.
 
"You do look delicious in that shirt."

She laughed as she glanced down at the table.
 
His chocolaty smell filled her nose.
 
She'd never shared her past with anyone before.
 
It was hard to believe Jack would be the first.

"I pretty much grew up in that bar you killed.
 
It was my parents'.
 
They were great to me."

Her chest tightened at the thought of them.
 
She waited for Jack to say something, either rude or sarcastic.
 
He said nothing.

"I was a woods girl even before the bite.
 
I was out hiking when they attacked me, right in the middle of the day.
 
Eight of them, in all.
 
They tore me to shreds and left me to die.
 
But whatever it is that lets some humans come back, I have it, I guess.
 
I was missing for four days.
 
The entire town searched for me.
 
They found me, and I actually made the papers.
 
I'll never forget the first night I changed.
 
There was a drunk guy at the bar, and he pissed me off so much.
 
Flirted with my mother, tried to start a fight with my father.
 
I ran from the bar and changed in a back alley."