“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Tiff. I’ll see you soon.”
Skye again tried to emulate her new best friend. She left the couch and approached Jack, arms wide.
“No,” he said. “Don’t touch me. Sit down.”
Jack and Marie left the house. The shutting of the door behind them felt like a moment somehow. The dread was still there, but had lessened a little. He finally realized what bothered him. He’d left Tiffany in the care of others before. Andee had made a small fortune at his expense. But now, Tiffany could get by with a witch that could barely speak. Soon, she wouldn’t need a babysitter at all.
“Are you okay?” Marie asked.
“Oh, yeah. I just haven’t done this in a while. This is like, you know, a date. And usually Andee is here. Just a little new.”
Marie leaned in closely, as they walked. Jack stopped while she stood on the tips of her toes and ran her nose along his cheek, neck, his shoulder, all while inhaling.
“Ahh,” she whispered, her breath tickling his neck. “I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning. It’s hard to enjoy your scent with Skye in there.”
“What a coincidence,” he said, holding her close. “I’ve got some things I’ve been wanting to do to you, too.”
She smiled, and they kissed, longer than they meant. Marie’s hands started roaming, and Jack followed suit. The dress she wore was very fun. It was only the piercing stare his neighbor shot their way that brought Jack back to reality.
“Hey, Fairbanks!” Jack called. “Why you don’t take a shower? Change your clothes. Then, maybe one day you’ll touch a woman, too.”
“Relax,” Marie said, adjusting her dress. “We are making a little show out here.”
He cast an angry glare at Fairbanks as they neared the sidewalk.
“You want to take my rental?” she asked.
“No, we’re walking. I told you. The place we’re going is right around the corner.”
She looped her arm around his.
“I’m up for a walk.”
*****
The evening couldn’t get much better. Wonderful view, great food, pleasant company. The beach was twenty feet away. The cool breeze danced through Jack’s shirt. He was mesmerized watching Marie eat. Her dress moved with the wind, occasionally exposing more leg than she was comfortable with. She laughed as her cheeks turned red, and shifted in her seat to keep her dress in check.
“I see why you wanted to sit outside,” she joked.
Jack took a bite of lasagna and managed a smile himself.
“You can’t say I don’t plan ahead.”
Marie gave him a flirty smile as she twirled her fork in her shrimp scampi. The choice of meal surprised Jack. She noticed his stare and leaned back in her seat, letting out a relaxed breath.
“You’re surprised I didn’t order squirrel?”
“Funny. No, I just wasn’t sure if you’d like Italian.”
“Well, that just goes to show you. We still have a lot to learn about each other.” She took a sip of wine. “Tell me something, Jack.”
“What?”
“Anything. Anything at all. Tell me something I don’t know.”
He thought for a moment. That wouldn’t be a difficult chore. He’d lived a long life, had plenty of secrets. How many of those was he willing to share with Marie?
He held his thumb and index finger an inch apart.
“Just a little,” he said. “I missed you, too.”
“Oh, wow,” she joked. “I’d better write this down.”
“No. You have to keep that to yourself. No one would believe you, anyway.”
They shared a small laugh. For an instant, an image of Skye flashed through his mind, ruining his kitchen, his wonderful home. He focused on Marie’s smile and forced the bad thoughts aside.
“I never thought I’d say this,” she said. “Wait, this is going to come out wrong.”
“Just go ahead. I don’t think you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“You have a wonderful daughter. She is … a total surprise.”
He smiled.
“Because I’m raising her?”
“Well … yeah.”
“I’m keeping her sheltered and fed, that’s about it, I think. Believe me, she is amazing, but it’s despite me, not because of it.”
She looked into his eyes, holding his gaze.
“I’m not sure if that’s true.”
He took his glass of water and toasted her.
“Well, I won’t turn down the compliment. Thanks very much.”
They clinked glasses.
“I can say,” Jack added. “Tiffany definitely likes you.”
“Do you think so? Maybe next time, you both can visit my neck of the woods.”
“Interesting idea. But, we’ll stay away from the woods.”
Marie laughed.
Another hour passed. Jack wasn’t sure what was happening between Marie and himself, but he liked it. He knew she was equally in the dark. They were many things. Business partners, friends with benefits, even plain friends. He wondered what else they could be.
Marie checked the time. Activity was winding down on the beach.
“What would you like to do now? It seems like Skye and Tiffany are doing just fine.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief.
“Go for a walk? Get some sand on our feet?”
“How about a walk in the woods instead?”
He smiled at the mischievous look in her eye.
“You’ve already picked out a spot, haven’t you?”
“Hey, you said not in the hotel. So, I went for the next best place.”
Jack wouldn’t argue. They’d enjoyed each other in many places. The woods was becoming a common place for them. The feel of nature always got Marie excited.
He’d paid for their meal, thanking Tony, the manager, for the extra attention. They had only taken one step onto the boardwalk when Marie stopped. He said nothing, just watched her. Her expression changed as she sniffed the air. Curiosity, confusion, concern.
“What’s the problem?”
“Wait,” she said sharply.
She tilted her nose up one more time and inhaled again, followed by quick sniffs. She didn’t care about the amused stares from the groups that passed by.
Finally, she locked eyes with Jack, and panic spread across her face.
“We have to go,” she said. “Now.”
Marie took off running before Jack could say anything. He sprinted after her, struggling to keep up. He could sprint forever, didn’t tire, but Marie was faster than him.
“Marie!” he shouted as they left the boardwalk. “What the fuck is going on?”
She didn’t answer. She took the first right, then another left, along the familiar path back to his house.
Terror took over as the scent struck him. His nose had finally caught up to hers.
Fire.
It could have been anything. A car, a fireplace, a barbecue. But he trusted Marie, trusted her senses, and the fear spread. It had been a while since Jack felt pure dread.
A crowd had gathered outside Jack’s house. Several people were on the phone, either calling emergency services or filming the blaze. The flames danced in and out of the windows. Smoke poured out and reached for the sky. The front door was wide open. The living room windows were shattered, with the broken glass flowing inside.
Marie hesitated as she neared the crowd. There were sirens in the distance, maybe a few blocks away.
Jack didn’t slow down, didn’t hesitate. He shot past Marie and aimed for the front door. A man off to the side jumped in front of him, held out his hands.
“Hey!” the stranger shouted. “You can’t go in there—!”
Jack shoved him, knocking him to the grass. He burst through the open door and stood in the middle of what was once his living room. He could barely see two feet in front of him. His skin felt hot for a moment, and he realized his arm was on fire.
“Tiffany!” he shouted.
There was no response. His chest tightened.
He marched through the flames, past the couch. He kicked open the basement door, followed by the bathroom, calling her name. His shirt was nearly burnt away, only patches of cloth remaining on his torso.
“Tiffany! Where are you?”
“Jack!”
The voice was faint, but it belonged to her. It came from above. He sprinted upstairs. The railing collapsed next to him, falling to the living room floor. It was difficult to see, as flames covered his entire body.
There was the sound of more house collapsing, and a scream. Moving into Tiffany’s room, he scanned the corners, the bed, under her desk. Only one place remained.
He opened the closet door to see Tiffany huddled under her hanging clothes. She wore a blanket around her shoulders, a look of fear in her eyes that would haunt Jack forever. But those eyes lit up at the sight of her father.
“Dad!”
“Stay there!” he said, holding out a palm. He looked down at his own arms, at the flames that bounced up and down his flesh. “It’s not safe!”
He needed to extinguish his own fire before saving his daughter. He searched for anything to use at all. Another blanket, a sheet, jacket, anything.
“Hey, Jack!”
He turned at the familiar voice.
Marie was at the window. She’d ripped away the screen and punched through the glass. Despite the powers being a werewolf gave her, even in human form, she wasn’t immune to fire. She stifled a cough, did her best to keep her balance. One foot was on the sill, while the other hung outside. She gripped the frame with one hand while reaching inside with the other. Blood dripped from her fingers onto her bare leg.
“Listen,” he said, making eye contact with Tiffany. “When I say, you run. Hold your breath, and run to Marie.”
“What about you?”
He shook his head in amazement. That was Tiffany, thinking of everyone else first.
“I’ll be fine.” He realized he’d forgotten something. “Where’s Skye?”
“They took her,” she said, tears forming. “I couldn’t … do anything.”
A quick surge of anger, of rage. He shoved it to the back of his mind. Tiffany first. Everything and everyone else came second.
“Okay, are you ready?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You can do this. Now … run! Go!”
Tiffany did as she was told. She ran across her room. Marie grabbed her with her free hand and lifted her off her feet. Her grace, even with the surrounding chaos, was amazing. Marie pulled her through and clutched her to her chest. Tiffany wrapped her arms around Marie’s neck. Jack almost smiled at Marie as their eyes met. He gave her an appreciative nod, showing his gratitude silently. Marie nodded in return, and then leapt backwards. Tiffany let out a quiet squeal, and there were audible gasps and shouts from the mortals below.
Something creaked and cracked overhead. Jack looked up to see the ceiling splitting. Another groan and shift beneath him, and the floor opened up.
He tumbled down into the living room. The upstairs above crashed onto him. He tried to pull himself forward, move clear of the raining debris, but more came. He heard more shouts from outside, men barking instructions. Somewhere, before the darkness closed in, he heard his daughter, shouting his name.
There was no pain. Jack didn’t feel pain, not the way everyone else did. His pain never lasted more than a fraction of a second, before the numbness set in. That numbness always reminded him of the humanity he lost, or rather, had been taken from him.
He tried to move a leg, an arm, anything at all, but it was useless. Ironically, he thought he felt something soft on his hand. Tiffany’s pillow, perhaps, or part of her bed. There were noises around him. What sounded like water from a hose, debris being shuffled around.
Light trickled in. Debris shifted around him. Finally, he could move, just a little. A familiar hand fell over his own.
“There you are,” Marie said.
She pushed aside the bed that had fallen on him. Gripping his arm, she dragged him from the rubble. The night air was cool on his skin, which didn’t feel natural, as he was standing in the middle of his home.
She helped him walk through the mess. The gesture wasn’t necessary, but appreciated. A firefighter stood near them, staring in awe.
“Stop gawking,” Jack said. “And put out the rest of my house.”
Tiffany stood near the crowd, next to a young couple he recognized that lived down the street. He didn’t know their names. They weren’t important.
“Dad!”
She broke away and ran. Jack dropped to his knees and embraced her. Tiffany was safe. His arms shook as he held her, and not because of any physical discomfort or pain.
Another pair of arms wrapped around them. Marie kissed him on the cheek. To his surprise, Tiffany loosened one arm and hugged her.
A paramedic tried to interrupt.
“Sir. We really need to—”
“Get the fuck away from me.”
Tiffany’s eyes shifted to their burning home. Jack stood and watched. The house itself ultimately wasn’t important to him. He had other houses, all over the world, many of which were much nicer. But this was Tiffany’s home. It was full of her things, her memories, a life they had built together. His logical side tried to tell him they could rebuild.
His dark side wanted to kill.
“Skye,” Tiffany said next to him, squeezing his hand. She looked up at him. “You’re going to save Skye, right?”
Jack had no words, and he had trouble understanding. Her sanctuary was burning away to nothing not thirty feet away, and she was concerned with someone else.
“How are you … the way you are?”
Just to rattle Jack further, she smiled. Tiffany smiled, and hugged her father.
“I’m just me,” she said. “We can build another house. But Skye, we have to help her.”
Marie’s phone rang. She held it up, confused to see it was a private number. She answered, and handed it to Jack.
“It’s … for you.”
He held it to his ear, saying nothing.
“Jack? Are you there?” It was Harry Tillman. “Your phone isn’t working, going right to voicemail. So, I figured you’d be with your girlfriend. Are you okay? Is your daughter okay? Look, your house, that wasn’t supposed to happen. I am so sorry. But Skye, she just got a little … crazy. Things got out of hand.”
He clutched the phone tighter.
“You—”
“Don’t talk, just listen. We both know you weren’t going to honor your end of the deal. And that’s okay. I plan for these things. I’ve already wired fifteen million to one of your accounts. That’s five more than we agreed on, to show there’s no hard feelings. You take care of your daughter, okay? And tell her I’m sorry she had to see all that tonight. I know we won’t see each other, but you have a good life. I really mean that.”
The line went dead. Marie took her phone. She heard the conversation, and wisely said nothing.
“I underestimated him,” Jack said. “I … made a mistake.”
Marie put a hand on his shoulder.
“Whatever you need, I’m in,” she said. “I’m with you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She understood the depth of his question and nodded. Being in with Jack was not to be taken lightly.
He knew she was more than capable.
“Let’s go to my hotel,” she said. “Just to, you know, sit.”
Jack agreed. Tiffany needed to rest, and he needed to think.
CHAPTER 19
VICTORIA TRIED TO compose herself as she approached the front door. Her hair was still damp from her stop and shower at the hotel. The blood had been scrubbed away, her clothes fresh. It was tempting to contact Kevin, have him open a portal to her mansion, to her own luxurious bathroom, but she didn’t. That was a waste of time,
and she felt like time was working against her.
She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but her mind wandered. What exactly was that vampire in Lonnie’s lair?
A young woman answered the door. Victoria guessed it was Alan’s sister, Alyson. Alyson wore glasses, which hid blue eyes. She adjusted them as she stared at Victoria. Her hair was dark, her skin pale. She wore sweatpants and a tee shirt, a sign she was in for the evening. A television was on behind her, playing what looked like a dating show.
“Yes?” she said.
“Hi, I’m Victoria. I’m sorry to bother you. I’m a … friend of Lonnie’s.”
Her posture stiffened as she moved to close the door.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you. I’ve already told Lonnie. I don’t do that anymore.”
Victoria blocked the door with her foot.
“Maybe friend is too strong a word. You’re Alyson, right? I want to ask about your brother.”
“Alan?” she said, and Victoria noted the tone. Concerned, but reserved. “Do you know where he is?”
“No. But I’m looking for him. I was hoping you could help.”
She thought a moment, then opened the door. Victoria stepped inside, admiring the living room. Pictures of friends and family adorned the walls and end tables. A fireplace was coming to life, which Victoria steered away from.
“You’d be the first,” Alyson said, closing the door.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, no one’s looking for him. A police officer stopped by when he first disappeared, for maybe three minutes. If you hang out until the next commercial, you’ll have him beat.”
One particular framed photo caught her attention. It was of Alan and Alyson together, wearing softball uniforms. He held a bat on his shoulder, while she tossed a ball in the air. Victoria had only seen him in the one photo, still in her back pocket, but she recognized him immediately.
Alyson noticed Victoria’s gaze and took the picture.
“I hate softball. I hate pretty much all sports. But Alan talked me into this.”
“This is recent?”
“Yeah, just this past summer.”
“What don’t you do anymore?”
Damned and Cursed | Book 10 | Fallen Skye Page 25