Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse (63 page)

He approached the border between the two locations.
 
They couldn't see the camera, but saw him reaching outward and knocking something to the floor.
 
Kevin faded away, and everything went back to the way it was.
 
The wall returned, as well as the television.
 
The magical video conference was over.

The office was quiet.
 
Sean's hands shook.
 
Finally, Jack heard a gasping next to him, and turned to see Marie was behind the man watching her.
 
The blanket she once covered up with was wrapped around the man's throat.
 
He was on his stomach, struggling for air and clutching at the blanket.
 
Marie's eyes turned red as she squeezed the life out of him, her foot buried in his back.

Sean and his men raised their weapons, but Jack was already in front of Marie.
 
He took every shot they fired, acting as a shield, as Marie pressed up close behind him.
 
He held his hand behind him, and their nonverbal communication was improving, as she knew exactly what he wanted.
 
She grabbed the gun from the hunter she'd killed and handed it over.

Jack shot everyone.
 
He had no choice but to take his time.
 
The bullets striking him didn't make aiming easy.
 
But he managed.
 
He killed most of them outright, while catching a few others in the shoulder or throat.
 
He purposely shot Sean in the arm.

Marie surveyed the damage.
 
She waded through the mess, stepping in blood with her bare feet, and finished off the few left alive.
 
Jack approached Sean while she worked.

"Wow, it's been an interesting day, hasn't it?"

Sean said nothing.
 
He simply lay on the floor, holding his arm.
 
Marie broke someone's neck behind Jack.

"Go ahead and kill me.
 
Like you killed my brother."

"If I wanted to do that, I'd have to take you to where you feel the safest, and jam a knife in your throat."

If Sean had doubts about who murdered his brother, they were long gone.

"You…fuck you."

Marie stood next to Jack, holding one of the hunter's knives.
 
She bared her teeth as she leaned forward, reaching for his throat.

"Wait," Jack said.
 
"We're not going to kill you."

Sean blinked.
 
"You're not?"

"Yeah, we're not?" Marie asked.
 
"After everything he did to me?
 
To Tiffany?"

Inspiration had struck.
 
Kevin was a hard act to follow, but he gave Jack another path, one that didn't involve time and money killing hundreds of people.

"No.
 
We're letting him go."
 
He looked at Sean.
 
"You'll be able to go back to your little werewolf hunts, do whatever you want."

"Jack," Marie said.
 
"Are you shitting me—?"

He put a hand on her bare back, quieting her down.

"There are a few rules."

"I'm listening," Sean said.

"You scratch Marie off your list.
 
You and your little buddies will never get near her, or my daughter, again.
 
If you do…."
 
He leaned in closer.
 
"I turn the witch loose.
 
And if that doesn't scare you, I'll be right behind him."

"A fucking witch.
 
I didn't think they were real.
 
But I've heard stories—"

"And they were all probably true.
 
That's not all.
 
You
work
for us now.
 
If a little no-name team comes chasing after my pal here, guess who her bodyguards will be?"

"Hmm," Marie said.
 
"I think I'm starting to like this."

"Do we understand each other?" Jack asked.

Sean stared at Marie.
 
The disdain he felt for her was apparent, but he slowly nodded.
 
For himself or his organization, there wasn't any other choice.
 
They didn't need the hassle of Jack and a being of magic on their bad side, and Jack knew that.

"I'll make it happen.
 
But…what are you?"

"I'm the one who will be watching you.
 
The witch might not kill people, but I do.
 
Keep that in mind when you kiss your kids goodnight."

Marie slapped Sean across the face before standing up.
 
They left the room together, leaving Sean with a mess of dead bodies.
 
She stepped on a corpse's chest as they walked down the stairs.

"That didn't end quite like I thought," she said.

"Yeah, same here.
 
But it did end."

"Did you really mean what you said?"

"I mean everything I say.
 
But be more specific."

"About you being in my pack."

He smiled.
 
"Yeah.
 
But actually, you're in
my
pack.
 
Just wait until you meet the rest of them."

Marie took another bite of her ham and cheese sandwich as she unpacked the last of her boxes.
 
Two days had passed since she'd last seen Jack.
 
She expected he'd probably headed back to his home.
 
He struck her as the type to not care much about a goodbye.

The police never came to her apartment.
 
Sandy Cliffs wasn't in an uproar over the massacre of a group of out-of-towners in an empty office building.
 
It was almost difficult to believe, the way information traveled in the twenty-first century.
 
She drove past the office building one morning to see a collection of vans marked FBI surrounding the place, but she didn't worry.
 
She had the feeling those particular FBI weren't gathering evidence.

Sleeping was difficult, but she knew that would pass.
 
Insomnia wasn't something a few miles in the woods couldn't fix.
 
It felt good to set her apartment back the way it was.
 
She would put the werewolf hunters behind her, get a job, resume the life once again of Marie Johnson.

Everything would be fine.

Marie had just turned on some music when there was a knock at the front door.
 
She lifted her nose to the air.
 
Male, somewhere in his fifties, smelled like coffee beans and honey.

She opened the door to see a well-dressed man, sharp clothes with an adorable little hat.
 
He smiled and tipped his cap, a gesture she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Morning, ma'am," he said.
 
"Are you ready?"

"Ready?
 
For what?"

"For your ride."
 
He tapped his wrist.
 
"Ten a.m., on the nose."

"Uh…what are you talking about?
 
I think you might have the wrong address."

His features fell.
 
"He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Who?"

"Jack.
 
The dick.
 
He always does this to me.
 
He instructed me to come pick you up."

She looked down at her baggy tee shirt and sweatpants, not exactly dressed for any kind of event.

"Could you give me five minutes?
 
And tell me where we're going?"

"Certainly, take your time.
 
I'll be outside.
 
But the destination…he told me not to say."

Laughing, she gently closed the door and went to the bedroom to change.
 
Her eyes fell on her Wonder Woman underwear, and she smiled at the thought of Jack.
 
The idea of a romantic morning seemed something he was incapable of, so she had to wonder what he was up to.
 
If she were pressed to be honest, she had to admit she was glad he was still in town.

She was tempted to dress up, but knew Jack didn't stare at her because of her clothes.
 
Leaving the apartment in jeans and a sweater, a strange thought hit her as she caught sight of the limousine waiting for her.
 
In her eighty years, she'd never ridden in a limousine before.

The ride was much too short.
 
She enjoyed Sandy Cliffs from a rare view.
 
They seemed to take a brief tour of town, until they turned down a familiar street.

Her bar was directly ahead.
 
Her pulse quickened.
 
She'd been in a good mood the past few days.
 
She was happy to be alive, with no hunters tracking her, but the last thing she wanted to see was her dead dream.

What she saw as the limousine slowed to a halt stunned her.

The bar was drowning in activity.
 
Several trucks were parked in front, with men moving in and out.
 
The scent of fresh, cut wood filled her nose.
 
Workers carried in chairs, tables, a new bar top.
 
She smelled felt and chalk.
 
New pool tables were nearby.
 
Another unmarked moving truck pulled up, the driver laughing and talking about a football game with his passenger.

Jack stood with his back to her, facing the building.
 
He held a tablet in one hand and signed a form with the other, handing it over to a delivery man.
 
Marie could see him engaged in a video conversation, and she eavesdropped as she approached.
 
It was a young girl she had to assume was his daughter.

"-coming home, Dad?"

"Tonight, sweetie.
 
I'm actually leaving in a short while.
 
I'll be home before we eat dinner."

"Will you cook dinner?
 
Kevin cooks okay, but not as good as you."

"You're damn straight, he doesn't.
 
Did you tell him that?
 
Make sure you tell him."

"I will."

He looked over his shoulder to see Marie.

"I have to go now, Tiff.
 
I'll see you soon.
 
Tell Glinda to start packing his shit."

"Okay.
 
Can he come over even when you come back?"

"What?
 
Why?"

"I like him."

"We'll talk about that later.
 
You be good, and I'll see you later today."

Jack ended the call and almost smiled as Marie drew closer.
 
She couldn't close her mouth as she watched the work being done on the bar.

"You're…fixing my bar?"

"Very close.
 
I'm fixing
my
bar."

Her smile faded.
 
"What?"

"I bought it.
 
It's mine now.
 
Dirt cheap, too."

"What are you talking about?
 
I put it on the market, but there haven't been any offers.
 
I haven't signed anything."

"You'd have an argument if I did my business legally."

She took a step closer, and could feel the eyes of some of the workers watching her.

"Well, you did destroy it in the first place.
 
I'd be very grateful if you did the right thing and gave it back to me.
 
You'd have a very appreciative werewolf."

He laughed.
 
"Grateful and appreciative doesn't put money in my pocket."

She smiled mischievously and took his hand.
 
To her surprise, he didn't yank it away.

"What are you up to, Jack?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was distracted when he looked over her shoulder.
 
He smiled, and she turned to follow his eyes.
 
A pair of men carefully lowered a beautiful jukebox out of a moving truck.

"Is that a Wurlitzer 1015?" Marie asked.

"It is.
 
From my personal collection."

She watched as they carried it inside.

"You have no idea how jealous I am right now."

"You should be.
 
If anything happens to that, I'll put on a silver glove and slap you across the face."

"And why is that, considering it's not my bar?"

"Well, it's sixty-six percent yours."

"What?"

He frowned as he looked around him.
 
"I don't like getting my hands too dirty with the businesses I own.
 
But I know a good thing when I see one, and this place will let Tiffany have a nice little allowance.
 
But I need someone to handle everything.
 
That would be you."

"Everything.
 
Wow, what a word.
 
So, I would do
everything
, while you sit on the east coast and watch TV, and you would take a third?"

"Yeah.
 
But I wouldn't watch TV.
 
My thing is my vegetable garden."

"A garden?
 
You?"

"I love my garden."

"You're just full of surprises.
 
Twenty percent."

"I'm renovating the place, replacing everything.
 
You'll never have to worry about me interfering.
 
You'll never have to cut corners, such as not having a jukebox.
 
And you want to knock me down to twenty percent?"

"You got it."

"Deal."

She smiled and let go of his hand.
 
The men continued to watch the pair as they worked.

"I'd ask you to dinner to sign everything," she said.
 
"But I heard you're leaving."