Dana stood up and ran. She took the same path Mike took, and didn't look back.
Marie put her hands on her hips and laughed. A cool breeze blew across the lake, catching her by surprise. Goosebumps rippled all over her body. She crossed her arms as she leaned against a nearby tree, staring out across the water. If nothing else, maybe the humans would stay away from her lake for a while.
"Still, not a bad night."
CHAPTER 10
A loud banging pulled Jack from his sleep. He rolled to one side, throwing the blankets off. A wonderful sensation came over him as a small smile took hold.
He was groggy.
Sleeping was amazing.
Wakefulness hadn't quite gripped him when his foot touched something hairy at the bottom of the bed. Ridiculous post-sleep thoughts swam in his head.
Did they buy a dog? Did his feet grow hair? Did he have a one-nighter with an Ewok who refused to leave?
He managed to open his eyes. A head of brown hair slowly slid into focus. A tiny arm. Spongebob pajamas.
"Tiff? What the hell?"
Tiffany lay the wrong way across the bed. Her feet hung off one side. One arm was draped over the end. One errant roll would send her to the floor.
"Sorry," she said, rousing from sleep. "I had a bad dream."
Jack sighed. They would have to address that somehow.
"How the hell do you sleep like that?"
"I don't know. I just do."
The loud banging came again.
"I think someone's at the door," Tiffany said.
"This early in the morning?"
"It's nine o'clock, Dad."
"Well, go answer it then. And if it's another one of those goddamn Girl Scouts, tell them to take their overpriced bullshit and go work a corner somewhere. Unless they've got thin mints. Thin mints are okay."
Tiffany hit the floor with a thump and left the bedroom. Jack tried to shake away the cobwebs. He immediately reached for his pocket-watch on the nightstand. If his sleep was interrupted before the magical countdown finished, the pocket-watch would take a hold of him once again. He only had a few minutes to reset the hands to twelve o'clock, to cancel the countdown.
His dream journal sat next to the pocket-watch. He grabbed it and quickly scribbled his dreams on paper, to have a record. They were already fading away, the world of the awake taking over. But some scenes were still there, like fractured movie clips.
Some mundane acts, mixed with the nonsensical. Cooking dinner for Tiffany in a warped version of his kitchen. The garden was inside, near the back door, instead of where it was supposed to be. The breakfast bar was two feet high. He took her to school, but there was no one else inside. For whatever reason, inside the land of dreams, that was perfectly normal, and Jack sat in the empty classroom with his daughter.
There was also a not-so-mundane dream. Namely, sex with Angela in his own bed.
Angela, the witch who cursed him nearly two centuries ago. She'd been killed at the hands of an angry mob, the same mob that tried to kill him before he slaughtered all of them. He felt nothing for her, certainly didn't give her a thought during his day. Erica was the woman he wanted to reconcile with. Yet, in whatever area of the brain controlled dreamland, Angela was there. Having rigorous sex inside his own home, where he let so few people in.
Jack shook his head as he reviewed the dream journal. He'd never experienced what mortals called being high. He tried many illegal drugs in the past, hoping they'd counteract his curse somehow, but none of them did. They had no effect. He'd never understand mortals who threw their lives and fortunes away for the quest of getting high. If they wanted to experience an altered state of mind so badly, why not just go to sleep? There was nothing in the world like it.
"Jack!" Tiffany shouted. "It's Miss Hernandez."
His eyes shot open. Erica. They hadn't spoken in weeks. There was only awkwardness between them now. Jack dropped Tiffany off at school every morning, and Erica watched the playground. There were a few glances here and there, but Erica made no move to talk to him at all. She didn't approach him, didn't call him on the phone. She was very serious when she told him to leave her alone, and he followed her order.
But she was now at his house, and he was barely awake.
He slipped on a pair of jeans over his boxers and grabbed an old shirt from the basket in the corner. He gave the mirror a quick glance as he grabbed a pair of sandals, thinking he should look himself over. The idea flew away with a sarcastic smile. Erica was angry at him for killing people, among many other reasons. It was doubtful a primping in the mirror would help much.
Other people apparently felt differently.
Tiffany burst into the bedroom, her eyes wide. She was sucking in air from the run up the stairs. Resting against the door frame, she looked her father up and down.
"Okay," she said, whispering confidentially. "She's downstairs in the kitchen. You're not wearing that, are you?"
Jack held in a smile. "And what do you think I should wear?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and marched to the corner basket. She picked through his shirts.
"No…not that one. Eh, maybe…no, this one's ugly. Ah!" She held up a collared gray shirt with short sleeves. "Perfect!"
He slipped out of his shirt and grabbed Tiffany's choice. She continued on as he dressed.
"Okay, be nice. And smile at her a lot. Maybe cook her something to eat. Your hair is messy." She grabbed a brush from the dresser. "Lean down so I can brush it."
"Uh, no, that's okay."
She shrugged. "Whatever. I'm just trying to make you cute."
"I'm always cute."
"Yeah, you are. But I have to say that because you're my Dad."
Jack smiled and knelt in front of her. At that moment, he wondered who she resembled more, her mother or father.
"Erica and I have to talk about some private things. So please, stay in your room, okay? Just for a little bit. Watch a movie or TV or something."
She pouted. "Will you tell me what you talk about later?"
"Probably not everything, but yeah, we'll talk."
"Okay." She surprised him with a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Daddy."
He watched his daughter leave and head to her bedroom. Her footsteps were quiet down the hall, followed by her door shutting. It was moments like those that Jack wanted to lock away forever.
Erica sat at the breakfast bar. Seeing her in sweatpants and sandals, with a loose fitting tee shirt, made him realize how much he'd missed her. She flashed him a nervous smile, resting her hands on the counter. She crossed her legs and fidgeted. He could see in her eyes she'd have rather been anywhere else.
"I should have called first," she said. "Sorry about that."
He shook his head. "You don't have to call, you know that. You want something to eat? Drink?"
"No, thanks. I won't be here long." That didn't sound good. "I just wanted to get some of my things. My toothbrush, crap like that. And I know I've got some clothes in your dresser."
Jack nodded, processing her words. He leaned against the stove and crossed his arms.
"You don't want to talk at all? It's just over? Done?"
Erica turned and eyed the stairs.
"Tiff's in her room," he said.
She sighed as she faced him. "What would we talk about, Jack? How can we possibly move on from here?"
"I don't know. But I'd at least try."
"We've only been dating a few months, and you drop all that shit on me? Vampires, witches, werewolves. Curses and Nazi Germany. Is there anything else I should know?"
"Oh, probably a lot. And I'll share it all with you."
"No. Don't you see? That's the problem. I don't want to know."
He hesitated. "You're the first mortal I've cared about in…ever."
"Mortal," she said, nearly spitting the word. "Is that what you call me? Is that what you call Tiffany? You don't even thi
nk of yourself as human? Do you see how that might cause a problem in a dating relationship?"
"Problems can be solved."
"You—" She forced herself to lower her voice. "You kill people. And you don't have a problem with it."
Jack could feel his patience slipping. "If I didn't kill people, you wouldn't be here now."
She was quiet a moment, reflecting on her thoughts. "You did save my life, Jack. Thank you. These past few months with you and Tiffany, I wouldn't trade them for anything. But let's be honest. I really don't know you. I thought I was getting there, but I was obviously wrong, wasn't I? The way you talked about killing those people in Germany…."
He opened his mouth to speak, but a sad realization dawned on him.
Erica was right.
They truly didn't know each other. If he opened himself up to Erica, showed her everything, she would certainly be repulsed. As wonderful as she was, she was mortal, and there were certain things mortals would never be able to understand. There were also things about mortals he would never grasp.
"Hell, what do you do for a living?" she asked. "I know you have money, and you said you owned a few businesses, but that's not all, is it?"
The question stung, simply from her accusing tone. He brushed aside the pain quickly, and said nothing. The simple answer to her question was No, that's not all. He had two centuries to build his wealth. Buying and rebuilding businesses, or just liquidating them. Underworld dealings, blackmailing senators and presidents. Wise investments, along with a simple lifestyle. He even earned money from the occasional supernatural hunt. Victoria would never accept payment, but he always did.
He was quite certain Erica wouldn't want to hear the truth.
Erica pressed on.
"And shit, let's not even talk about Tiffany—"
"No," he cut in, his gaze hard. "Let's not even talk about her."
She went quiet. They said nothing, simply watching each other. She finally gestured to the stairs.
"I'm going to get my things," she finally said. "You can follow me if you want, make sure I don't steal anything."
"I'm not worried about that," he said, mildly insulted. "Go ahead."
Erica went upstairs. Jack crossed the living room and opened the front door to take in the morning. It was beautiful out, the leaves turning a deep shade of orange, but he had trouble feeling the positive vibes. He was numb inside. His thoughts and feelings clashed with each other. Emotions swirled, and before he could get a handle on what he felt, another emotion swept in.
He sat on the front step, exactly in the same spot where Erica and he had their previous fight. Erica opened the door behind him, carrying a small pile of clothes and a few toiletries. She took a breath as she sat next to him.
"It was fun, Jack," she said, her tone genuine. "You are a machine under the sheets."
He finally laughed. "A part of my curse. I don't get tired."
"Well, it's not much of a curse, then, is it?"
He held in a snarl. One of the driving forces mortals had to live their lives to the fullest was the simple fact that life ended. Not for him. He was born mortal, and a curse twisted him into something else. Awake for so long, forced to watch the passage of time with eyes wide open.
His thoughts drifted to the pocket-watch upstairs. At least he could finally sleep.
"I guess it's got its moments." He playfully nudged her on the shoulder. "You're not so bad yourself."
Erica smiled, one last time for him. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Out of everything that was said, that tiny kiss was the action that felt the most final.
"I won't bug you or anything," Jack said. "I won't be one of those crazy ex-boyfriends camping on your lawn."
"Well, that will be hard. I'm actually moving. I'm loading the moving van up this weekend, in fact."
"Are you serious? Moving? Come on, Erica, whatever you think about me, you don't have to run away."
"No, it's not you. I was thinking about a change of scenery before I met you."
"Leaving the state? Back to San Diego?"
She shook her head. "Believe it or not, I'm headed to Montana. Nice and peaceful, crisp, clear sky. You can see all the stars up there."
Jack still needed time to process, but said the only thing he could.
"You'll be missed."
"Thank you."
They were quiet, watching the cars drive back and forth in the street together. The awkwardness was gone, but a small emptiness took its place.
Jack would have been content to leave it at that, but Erica had something else to say.
"Jack," she said. "I'm going to say something you won't want to hear."
He frowned, and wandered what could possibly be left to make him feel worse.
"What's that?"
"You have to give up Tiffany."
He studied the lines in her face, trying to figure out why she would unleash such a horrible joke. The lines were soft, her eyes true. There was a certain sadness there. Erica really believed what she was saying.
"Uh, excuse me?"
"Tiffany. I'm not sure she belongs with you."
"That's the anger talking."
Erica stood, getting serious once again.
"I'm past the anger. I'm only thinking about that little girl. A man broke into my house through the back door. He kidnapped me, was willing to kill me to get to you."
"I saved you," he reminded.
"I know that. But what happens next time? I was just your girlfriend, Jack. Imagine if someone wanted to get to you again, and used Tiffany. She's not safe with you—"
"She's perfectly safe."
"Now you're just being stupid and pigheaded. Think! The bad guys in this world—"
"I am the bad guy!"
He rose to his feet. For a moment, Erica was afraid, and recoiled a step. Her jaw hung open slightly, stunned at the outburst. She said nothing, studying the man she thought she knew.
Jack calmed down, but the edge didn't leave his voice.
"Do you want to know how Tiffany and I met?"
She didn't respond, but Jack didn't wait for her. He would tell her anyway.
"She ran away from an abusive foster home, and I took her in. She ended up witnessing a crime, and forces both mortal and supernatural were after her. You got sideswiped by it a little. Remember that car accident you and Tiffany were in? Anyway, let's just say, I got her out of danger."
Her lip quivered. "W-What do you mean?"
"They kidnapped her, threatened to kill her unless I paid ransom." A smile crossed his face that Erica had never seen before. "Well, I just did one better. They kidnapped her, and I kidnapped everyone. Aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters, bowling partners. It's safe to say, Tiffany was returned to me unharmed."
Fear was etched across Erica's face. She said nothing, her mouth moving, but no words coming out.
"You think she's not safe with me," Jack said. "I say there's nowhere in this world that girl is safer than by my side. I hate to admit it, but you're right. You really don't know me."
It took a moment, but Erica's expression hardened as she found one last thing to say.
"Goodbye, Jack."
She turned and walked away. Jack didn't think she'd turn around, give one last passionate look, and he was right. She climbed in her car and drove away.
Jack sat back on the step, alone. The muscles in his cheek twitched from the raw emotion coursing through him. Despair, anger, relief.
A tear escaped, and he thought he'd explode when he felt the moisture on his skin. Pulling his phone from his jeans, he called the one person who could possibly give him guidance on the unfamiliar river he was drifting on.
The phone continued to ring. He didn't worry about not getting an answer. When Jack called, it never went to voice mail.
"Well, well," she greeted. "And just how the hell are you?"
Jack clenched his eyes shut. It felt good just to hear her voice.
"Victoria. Listen, Eric
a and I are no longer a couple. What am I supposed to do now?"
"Whoa, wait. What? Say that again?"
Anger bubbled. He didn't feel like repeating himself. "I thought you were supposed to have good ears. I said Erica and I are done. Didn't you split with that vampire hunter guy not long ago?"
"His name was Jake, and yes. We did split."
"Well? Come on, don't hold out on me. What did you do?"
"Jesus, Jack. Give me a second, alright? I'm still processing this."
"Okay. Just take your damn time. I'll be here jerking off while you process."
Thirty seconds passed, and Victoria made noises unbecoming of a vampire. A few sighs, whoas, and oh-my-Gods were in there somewhere. If he had her strength, he would have crushed the phone in his hand.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "Tell me what happened."
"Long story short, she found out more about me than I would've liked. A little about the curse, a little about shit I've done." He slammed his hand on the railing guarding the front porch. "This is that witch's fault. If only he had a cure. I'd be mortal, and Erica never would have found out. He's not even looking for a cure. I know that pussy, cat-screwing bastard."
"He gave you the most precious gift of all. Sleep. And come now, you have better vision than that. Without your curse, you wouldn't have been able to deal with whatever threat forced you to reveal yourself to Erica."
Jack was quiet. He knew Victoria was right. His mood came down to a few simple words.
"It didn't work out, and I'm in pain. I don't like it. What do I do?"
"When Jake and I ended our relationship, I drank three glasses of blood and watched tearjerkers all night."
"That's what a mortal female would do."
"They're onto something then, because it definitely helped. Luckily, you and I have something that solves all problems."
"What's that?"
"Time."
A hint of a smile finally formed. Indeed, time did heal. Jack once thought he'd never speak to Victoria again. After she killed the only chance for his cure, a full-blooded witch, they didn't speak for nearly a century. That was behind them, and they were family once again.
He would miss Erica, then he'd heal. Then many, many one-nighters were in his future.
Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse Page 12