Damned and Cursed | Book 10 | Fallen Skye

by Bullion, Glenn

  “Hey!” Jack shouted. He lunged forward to grab her wrist. “What did I tell you about that shit?”

  Skye was stunned for a moment, then met his stare with a defiant eye.

  “Not sorcery,” she said. “Just flavor.” She gestured to her ingredients. “Make it taste better.”

  He poured the potion down the drain and gathered everything.

  “Damnit, Fido. If it’s green, glowing, and has smoke, it’s probably magic. And make my food taste better? My cooking? What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “What’s going on?”

  The fresh voice froze Jack in place. He glanced at the counter as he put everything away, for any spills, and evidence.

  He turned to face Tiffany. Her hair was a mess, her pajamas twisted and disheveled. One leg was rolled up to her knee, while the other nearly over her foot. She let out a yawn as she took in the adults.

  “Just Skye, ruining my kitchen,” Jack said. “You know how I feel about people going through our kitchen, like they own it.”

  “Kevin does it all the time.”

  “Not anymore. Glinda will be lucky to even get a pizza delivered here when I’m done with him.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Pizza! Can we have—!

  “No. We just had it for dinner last night.”

  Tiffany’s jaw dropped when she saw the feast laid out behind Skye.

  “Breakfast!”

  She moved like a hurricane. Her plate could barely handle the load of food she dropped on it. She only paused near the end of the journey, as she settled at the bar. She looked back and forth between Jack and Skye.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, then gave Skye her complete attention. “Did he yell at you? What’s happening?”

  “Nothing,” Skye said.

  Crisis averted. Jack let out a slow breath as he gathered his own meal. Tiffany hadn’t seen the glowing magic in the kitchen, suspected nothing. Tired, hungry children didn’t notice anything further than four feet in front of them.

  “Save some sausage for Marie,” Jack said. “And some bacon.” He lowered his voice, so no one could hear. “And some fucking squirrel.”

  “Oh, God,” Tiffany said. “This is so good!”

  “Of course it is.”

  Jack settled in across from his daughter, next to Skye. He’d have preferred it the other way around. Skye bumped his elbow as she ate, pushing the limits of his patience.

  He’d only finished a strip of bacon when someone knocked at the door.

  “Want me to get it?” Tiffany asked.

  “No,” Jack said, rising. “You eat your breakfast.”

  “How about me?” Skye asked. “I get?”

  “No. You just … ” He was too irritated to finish. “Ugh.”

  He could already see her through the window as he approached the door. Marie’s back was turned as he opened it, and he took a moment to admire her. Tan shorts, a sleeveless shirt, sunglasses. She wore shoes and socks, even in a beach town. He wondered if that was the werewolf in her. She had a runner’s instincts, never wore open-toed shoes. She didn’t have a purse. It amazed Jack at how rarely she carried one.

  She turned to face him, lit up his porch with a smile.

  “I can smell it all the way from the street. Did you save some for me?”

  He smirked in return.

  “We’d better hurry.”

  Jack squeezed her shoulder as she entered the house, a rare demonstration of affection. Marie reached and squeezed his hand. Tiffany waved enthusiastically, with Skye following suit. Marie laughed and waved in return.

  “Marie!” Tiffany called. “Are you going to eat with us?”

  “If it’s okay with you.”

  “Yeah! I’ll get some food for you.”

  “Tiff,” Jack said. “You don’t have … ”

  He didn’t finish, deciding it wasn’t worth it. It was difficult to stop Tiffany when she started moving.

  “Let’s eat,” he said. “I’m hungry.” He pointed at Skye. “Move. Sit over there.”

  *****

  Marie couldn’t remember the last time she ate so much. Despite her recent good fortune, she still lived in her tiny apartment, with the kitchen that, as Jack had put it, wasn’t capable of seducing a whore with a thousand-dollar bill. She lived alone and worked often. Rarely did she have time to put together a well-cooked meal. Even if she did, the thrill of the hunt, and the tasty meat of a succulent, freshly killed deer, was more than enough to keep her going.

  But the breakfast Jack had assembled was delicious. Far better than anything the hotel would offer.

  She ate in relative silence, politely answering the occasional question from Tiffany. The young girl asked about Marie’s hair, which had changed color from brunette to strawberry blond overnight. She lied, of course, drawing an amused snicker from Jack. Tiffany didn’t need to know about a werewolf’s ability to control the color and length of their hair.

  Skye was also quiet, with her shortened speech. But there was still plenty of conversation, and laughter, to go around. Jack and Tiffany spoke more than enough for everyone. Fake, meaningless arguments filled with love. An in-depth discussion on why Elvis Presley was a far better singer than Katy Perry. A comparison on why sausage links were much better than sausage patties.

  Marie didn’t mind either. Sausage was delicious in any form.

  “So,” Tiffany announced, as they neared the end of their meal. “What are we all doing today?”

  Marie looked up. Was she included in we? She hadn’t thought about that. The beautiful thing about a vacation was not making any plans, and she had none. Her simple rough outline was to run the woods during the day, enjoy the town, spend time with Jack at night, followed by more woods.

  “Yeah,” Skye echoed. “What are we doing?”

  Jack rubbed his temples in frustration.

  “Let’s see. Yesterday, we spent the entire day at the beach, shopping, and eating junk food. But somehow, I don’t think nothing or relaxing at home is the right answer.”

  “Come on, Dad. We have guests! I never have people over.”

  Marie thought Jack’s eyes would pop from his skull.

  “Is that a joke? Those little idiots you call friends are over here all the time. Eating my food, watching my TV, spending the night. They’re over here so much I think their parents hate them. And I couldn’t blame them if they did.”

  “No. I mean adults.” Tiffany gestured to Marie and Skye. “Your friends.”

  “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not go tossing out titles—”

  “Marie, you want to go to the beach? I’ll hang out with Skye. And you and Jack can … you know … ”

  Tiffany concluded her plan with an exaggerated wink. Marie burst out laughing. Jack’s expression was unreadable. Angry, irritated, amused, perhaps even considering of Tiffany’s idea. She wasn’t sure.

  He let out a defeated breath.

  “Do you have any plans for the day?”

  “I, uh, didn’t really bring any swim-ware.”

  “That’s okay!” Tiffany said, already having the answer. “We bought a ton of stuff for Skye yesterday. You can borrow some of hers. Or, you don’t even have to swim. Just stay on the beach.”

  Her hopeful eyes convinced Marie.

  “Well, then I guess I’m going to the beach.”

  “Yes!” Tiffany said, jumping to her feet. “Let’s get ready.”

  “Hey,” Jack said, holding up a finger. “Hold on.” He pointed at Skye, and then Tiffany. “You, get in the shower. You, help me clean up all this. Then, we get ready.”

  “Why does Skye have to take a shower?” Tiffany asked. “She’s just going to get wet, anyway.”

  “Because she smells. Badly.”

  Marie couldn’t argue that point. The stench of a half blood witch amazed her. She’d lived eighty years without ever knowing they existed. After meeting Jack, she’d met three, and an entire coven.

  “I’ll take shower,” Skye said.


  She stood up and headed to the first-floor bathroom. Marie watched as the bathrobe came off first, falling to the floor. Then, the bikini top, all before she even made it to the door.

  “Skye!” Jack shouted. “What did I say about stripping—?”

  The door shut, ending Jack’s tirade.

  He muttered under his breath as he picked up his dishes. Tiffany couldn’t hear, but Marie had no issues.

  “I swear, Victoria, you owe me. You don’t realize how much you owe me. That’s what I get for being nice. That’s it, no more nice. The nice shit stops now.”

  Marie tried not to laugh.

  She didn’t imagine she’d be cleaning up dishes on vacation, but that’s what happened. The three worked as a team, with Tiffany a bundle of energy as she loaded the dishwasher. Jack moved slowly on purpose, even dropping a fork or knife in the sink as he rinsed them off.

  “Oh, damn,” he said. “I’ve really got the dropsies today.”

  “Jack, stop! You’re doing that on purpose!”

  “What? No! Why would you say that?”

  A spoon dropped.

  “Dad!”

  Jack almost laughed, a rare treat.

  After cleanup, Tiffany sprinted upstairs to prepare for the day out. Marie could hear Skye showering. Marie sat at the bar, with Jack sitting across from her a moment later. She had the strength of a werewolf, a supernatural being. She could run for miles at high speed, and didn’t do too badly in human form either.

  But she was tired, just a little. Jack’s house was so full of movement, so full of Tiffany.

  “Wow,” was all she said.

  Jack read her perfectly.

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Imagine that, all the time. Imagine when she brings her little creeps over here. Seven or eight of them, just scattering around like roaches.”

  “I’ll pass. I’ll stick with my alcoholic regulars, thanks.”

  “So,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Do I get to pick the bikini?”

  “Nice try. No, you don’t,” she said, then frowned. “Does Skye really only have bikinis?”

  “Yes.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Such fortune. It’s like I can see the future.”

  “Oh, can you?” She leaned forward, almost enough to kiss him. Teasing him, teasing both of them. “And what’s in the future for tonight?”

  “That depends on how much Andee charges for last minute babysitting.”

  Marie smiled.

  The next twenty minutes were a blur. Tiffany and Skye sprinting through the house. Jack shouting at them. A small pile of items formed in the corner. Towels, a cooler, an umbrella, chairs. Marie watched in fascination. She thought of her own parents, gone for so long. She’d never attempted a family of any kind after becoming a werewolf. Friendships were quick and fleeting, and she never ran with a pack, unlike other werewolves. To see the life Jack had built for himself amazed her.

  Jack and Tiffany argued near the front door, over which snacks to bring. Skye stood in the kitchen, appearing lost and confused. Marie approached and touched her shoulder.

  “Hey,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  Skye nodded.

  “Yes. It’s just … why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Victoria and Kevin. And now Jack. Why are they nice to me?”

  Marie hesitated a moment. She didn’t know Skye’s history, her life. She didn’t know what trauma she’d been through and wanted to choose her words.

  “I, uh, guess a lot of bad things have happened to you?”

  Skye’s eyes changed. Sadness, anger, fear, pain, nothing pleasant. Her lip quivered as she tried to speak. She settled for a simple nod instead.

  “Well, maybe it’s time for some good now,” Marie said.

  Skye looked Marie in the eye.

  “You and me? Friends?”

  Marie smiled.

  “Sure. Friends.”

  *****

  Jack didn’t want to be at the beach.

  But, if he were cornered, he’d have to admit that it was a fun trip.

  Watching Tiffany laugh and smile was enough to make dragging half his house to the sand worth it. His daughter brought out the best in everyone. As Jack and Marie lounged near the water, Tiffany somehow organized a pick-up volleyball game. Even Skye joined in, and the witch was nothing but joy. The beach was packed, and Tiffany had made three new friends her age before the day ended. Jack watched, wary and concerned, as she traded emails and social media accounts with them. Tiffany had enough friends raiding their house. He wasn’t sure how many more he could take.

  “Now that is the face of a concerned father,” Marie said.

  He turned to his left to take in the other half of his great day, Marie. The sides of their chairs touched, putting them close together. They had every outward appearance of a couple, although he didn’t know what they were. Friends with benefits, business partners, pack members. They had killed together. There weren’t many titles he could think of where that applied.

  Her choice of a simple black bikini was solid. She was awkward at first, nervous, but his own brand of encouragement along with simple time put her at ease. She sat with her legs crossed, a glass of iced tea resting against her thigh.

  “I am concerned,” he said. “I’m concerned there will be more annoying children in my home.”

  “Soon, she’ll be a teenager. Then it’s boyfriends, drugs, sex in cars.”

  “Do you think this is funny?”

  “Do you see me laughing? It’s just life, Jack.” She shook her head. “I still don’t see how the hell you, of all people, end up adopting a young girl.”

  Jack never told her the whole story. Only pieces, here and there. He saw an opportunity.

  “I’ll tell you over dinner tonight. I’ll line up a babysitter—” He gestured toward Skye, who sat not far away, just far enough into the water to let it lap up to her waist. “And a witch-sitter. What do you say? Can you take a night off from frolicking in the woods?”

  She turned to face him, her leg touching his. Her movements had flirtatious purpose.

  “I don’t know.” She nodded toward Skye and Tiffany. “Can you take a night off from being a hero?”

  Jack laughed at the outrageous thought.

  “Yeah, sure. I think I can somehow manage.”

  Marie smiled and sipped at her tea. She leaned back and looked out to the ocean, her posture relaxed. She was a beautiful woman, intelligent and strong. Marie hadn’t learned to hide her age like Victoria, or himself, but there was a youthful energy to her, a spark that defied her eighty years. She had her own tragedies, like they all did, but somehow, it didn’t darken her like it did him.

  “Why are you here, Marie?” he asked. “A million other places to vacation, and you pick here.”

  She stiffened, shifting as her guard went up. Jack thought he might have ruined the evening’s plans with the question. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the beach.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She eyed him seriously.

  “You won’t like the answer.”

  It was Jack’s turn to raise his guard. His thoughts wandered. Did she need help? Was the bar in trouble? Was she in trouble? Did another group of werewolf hunters have her on their radar? How many people would he need to kill?

  He braced himself.

  “I’m listening.”

  She ran a finger along his arm.

  “I missed you.”

  Jack waited for more. Her answer seemed almost alien to him.

  “Really? That’s it?”

  She smiled.

  “That’s it. Believe me, I don’t like it. But there it is. I missed you, and wanted to see you.”

  “No way,” he said. “You don’t want to talk business? About the bar?”

  “We can, if that makes you feel better. Or, we can have dinner tonight, and do some things that don’t need talking.”

>   She leaned in, ever so slightly. Jack would not miss the chance to kiss those lips of hers.

  “I like that idea. I hate talking.”

  Their lips had barely touched when an annoying voice interrupted.

  “Jack.”

  Fighting anger, he gritted his teeth as he turned away from Marie. She covered her mouth, trying not to smile.

  “Yeah, Fido. What is it? What is oh-so-important?”

  Skye dropped to her knees in front of them. She looked back and forth between them, then turned to make sure Tiffany was out of earshot.

  “You both go out tonight,” she said. “I’ll watch Tiffany.”

  “Ah, you like to spy on people? That hurts my feelings.”

  “My way to thank,” she said, undeterred by his attitude. “I’ll watch Tiffany.”

  “No. That’s insane.”

  She grabbed his arm.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Jack shook free.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Marie put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Her touch was one of the few he could tolerate.

  Skye’s expression changed. Defiant, almost angry.

  “I’m not helpless,” she said. “Nor am I stupid.”

  The statement shocked him. Rarely had Skye ever spoken a full sentence. For a moment, she wasn’t the quiet, broken woman Victoria had dumped on him.

  He turned to Marie to get her thoughts. She said nothing, but he read her easily. He gave Skye a slight smirk.

  “You really want to watch my daughter? You think you can handle it?”

  She nodded.

  “I can handle it.”

  “You don’t cook in the kitchen. You’ll order food out.”

  “And we’ll watch movies.”

  “Okay, Skye. You’re on. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  *****

  Jack didn’t grow tired. He didn’t need to take a breath to gather his energy. He didn’t need to stop and rest, or recharge his battery. Physical chores didn’t slow him.

  Still, his patience had limits. He was ready to lash out at anyone as they neared their home. The cooler at his side and folded chairs under his arm weren’t heavy, didn’t strain his muscles, but carrying them irritated him.