Jack Kursed Page 7

  Jack laughed. "That wouldn't surprise me. There are all kinds of monsters in this world."

  "You don't believe me," she said, frowning. "I took a picture."

  Tiffany handed Jack her camera. He smiled when he glanced at the last picture taken. She was obviously moving when she took the shot. Everything was blurred and smeared. It certainly looked like an alley, but he only saw a mass of blue. There was something that might have been a person, but it was too hard to tell.

  "This might be the most worthless picture I've even seen," he said, handing the camera back.

  She pouted and shoved the camera in her pack.

  "It was a monster."

  "Of course it was. Where are your parents?"

  "My mom's in heaven. My dad left. I'm running away from my foster home."

  "Brilliant move. Look, stick with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."

  "Do you know where the bus station is?"

  "Forget the bus station. You don't have any money."

  Jack looked down at the child as she walked by his side. He wasn't a people person, and children were especially near the bottom of his list. But it was hard not to smile at Tiffany. The kid was definitely amusing. She could barely keep her pack on her shoulders, but kept up with his stride. Her eyes darted from side to side, probably looking for her monster. She hesitated as they neared a few alleys, and Jack had to stop and coax the girl into moving again.

  "Relax, kid," he said as they approached another alley. "There's nothing to be scared of. You saw me beat up those guys?"

  Tiffany laughed. "Yeah. That was cool."

  "Well, I'd do the same thing to any monster. Come on, let's go. I don't have all night."

  She moved in front of the alley and held out her hand. Jack winced and refused to take it. He was capable of many things. Holding a child's hand wasn't one of them.

  They walked a few more blocks in silence until they arrived at the police station. Tiffany stiffened when she recognized the building and took a step back. Jack caught her by the arm.

  "Where do you think you're going?"

  "I don't want to go in there."

  "There's nothing but cops in there. And maybe a murderer or rapist, but they're locked up. You'll be safe, and they can call your foster parents."

  "I don't want to go to back to Miss Simmons."

  "Well, where else are you gonna go? Look, kid-"

  "My name isn't kid," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "It's Tiffany."

  Jack's lip almost curled into a smile. She brushed her long hair out of her face again and looked up at him with her blue eyes. Her jaw stuck out, her cheeks turning red. Most children annoyed him. She had a strength, a defiance, that was almost adorable. She had an attitude.

  Just like him.

  "Okay, Tiffany. Off we go, before I change my mind, and just walk home."

  Tiffany scowled and folded her arms across her chest, but she followed Jack across the street into the police station. The lobby was empty, due to the late hour. A bored-looking woman sat behind a counter, examining her fingernails. She perked up when Jack and Tiffany approached.

  "Can I help you?"

  "Yeah. I found this kid...Tiffany, on the street."

  Tiffany stared at the receptionist and grabbed the edge of the desk.

  "I saw a monster," she said.

  Jack gave Tiffany a playful punch in the shoulder.

  "Well, good luck," he said, and turned to walk away.

  "Sir!" the receptionist shouted. "You can't just leave."

  "I can't? Am I under arrest?"

  "No, but you have to fill out a report. Name, address, that sort of thing."

  "Let me see if I understand. I do a good deed, and my reward is paperwork?"

  The woman blushed, but still pushed a form across the counter. Jack shook his head and took the pen from her. The receptionist smiled at Tiffany and directed her to sit in a chair in the lobby, telling her an officer would be with her soon.

  Jack finished the form, pushed it across the desk, and walked across the lobby. He gave Tiffany one more wave. The little child waved back, hugging her pack to her chest and swinging her legs. She took random pictures with her camera.

  He had the door open and one foot outside when he stopped. He wasn't sure why. Turning his head, he stared at Tiffany. Something about the scene looked wrong, a girl sitting in a police station all by herself.

  "You're just gonna make her sit there? You don't have a TV room or something? Maybe some Legos?" he called.

  The receptionist flashed him an angry glare.

  "I said someone would be with her shortly."

  Jack reentered the lobby and sat next to Tiffany. She looked up at him and smiled. He laughed when he noticed she had a tooth missing.

  "You said you were leaving."

  "Eh, well. Truth is...I got nothing better to do. I get bored sometimes."

  "Why aren't you sleeping?"

  "I don't sleep."

  Tiffany giggled. "Everybody sleeps."

  "Not me."

  "Really? That would be so cool. You could run around, do whatever you want, and not get tired."

  Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's so cool."

  "If I couldn’t sleep, I would fight crime, like a comic book. I would run around and beat people up, like you did. No monsters would bother me."

  "I have to admit, the beating people up part is cool."

  She scooted off the chair. "Watch how high I can kick."

  He shook his head as she demonstrated her impressive kicking skills, nearly falling several times in the process.

  Ten minutes passed, and not a single police officer showed up. A detective arrived through the front door with a nice shirt and tie, but he simply flirted with the receptionist before disappearing into the station. Jack wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work, but was getting impatient. He rose to his feet.

  "We’ll be at the diner across the street. Tell Officer Friendly when he decides to finish his doughnut."

  Jack motioned for Tiffany and they crossed the lobby. The receptionist stood at her desk and shouted.

  "Sir! Please. Uh, come back. You can’t leave yet-"

  He paid her no mind as they left the station. They crossed the street and headed toward the mostly-deserted diner.

  "Are you gonna get in trouble?" Tiffany asked.

  "Nope."

  "Am I? That lady seemed mad."

  "You ran away from home, Tiffany. I think you’re already in trouble."

  The girl hung her head low.

  There were only three other customers in the diner, so they were allowed to seat themselves. Jack found a booth in the rear corner. The back was where he always tried to go. He wanted to keep his eye on everything.

  He wouldn’t die from not eating, but he loved food, and his stomach was grumbling.

  "I could go for some pancakes," he said. "You hungry?"

  Tiffany shrugged, not bothering to open the menu in front of her.

  "I don’t have any money."

  "I didn’t ask if you had any money. I asked if you were hungry."

  She smiled and nodded shyly.

  "Okay, then," he said. "Pick what you want."

  The only waitress in the place took their orders. Jack ordered pancakes, eggs, and sausage. He laughed when Tiffany ordered the exact same thing.

  Tiffany was quiet at first as they ate, which Jack enjoyed. Then she opened up, and wouldn’t stop talking. She talked about the latest Harry Potter movie she saw, a coloring book she was working on, how much she hated her foster-sister Carrie.

  At first, Jack was annoyed at her chatter, but gradually found himself laughing at the girl’s enthusiasm. She was in mid-sentence when a plain-clothes policeman stood over Tiffany and put a hand on her shoulder.

  "Hello, Tiffany," he said. "It’s been a while."

  Tiffany looked over her shoulder and frowned before hanging her head.

  "Hi, Officer Thomas."

  Jack drank
some orange juice before speaking. "You two know each other?"

  "Oh yeah," Thomas said. "I think it’s been about six months now. Tiffany runs away all the time. She’s got quite an imagination on her, don’t you?"

  "No I don’t."

  Officer Thomas scooted in the booth next to Tiffany. He declined an order from the waitress, but gave her a long, appreciative look as she walked away.

  "Let me guess," he said, looking back to Tiffany. "Miss Simmons is abusing you again?"

  "She’s just mean," she said. "Tonight she gave discipline to Sara and took away her bedroom. Then I saw a monster in the alley."

  "Of course you did, Tiffany. Listen, you need to stop running away. You’re really lucky you have Miss Simmons. Some children don’t have anyone."

  Tiffany said nothing. She took another bite of her pancakes.

  "Officer Derek Thomas," Thomas said, extending his hand over the table to Jack. "You’re Jack Kursed?"

  "I don’t shake hands. And it’s Kur-said."

  "Ah. You know, you really shouldn’t have left the station."

  "Wish I could say I cared. But you left a child in your lobby. No food, nothing to drink, no reassurance. I figured I’d do your job for you."

  "I was...in the bathroom."

  "Good for you."

  "Officer Thomas," Tiffany said. "Some guys were picking on me. Mister Jack beat them all up."

  Jack nearly choked on his toast.

  "Tiffany, now, that’s just not true," he said, looking at Thomas. "Officer, I would never do such a thing. I hate violence."

  Thomas waved his hand dismissively.

  "Like I said, she’s got an imagination. Anyway, I called Miss Simmons. She’s quite upset."

  "Tiffany, is Miss Simmons pretty?" Jack asked.

  "She’s the ugliest woman in the world."

  He laughed. Thomas gave Tiffany a disapproving look.

  "Hey, now, that’s just not nice. Miss Simmons takes care of you."

  Jack looked up as a woman in her fifties walked in the diner. She had an angry scowl on her face. After searching the diner for a moment she spotted the back of Tiffany’s head. Then her expression changed. The scowl went away and a look of mock concern crossed her face.

  "Oh, Tiffany!"

  He watched the young girl as Miss Simmons approached. Her entire body froze, her forkful of eggs hovering in mid-air. Her hands trembled. She didn’t move her head, but shifted her eyes to the aisle to look for Miss Simmons.

  The girl was terrified.

  "Officer Thomas," Miss Simmons said. "Is she okay? Tiffany, what happened? I’ve been so worried, searching everywhere for you."

  Jack burst out laughing. Miss Simmons shot him an angry glare.

  "May I ask what is so funny?"

  "Just your performance. I’m sorry, but don’t be surprised if the Academy passes over you this year."

  Her jaw dropped. Her outrage mixed with her attempt at concern for Tiffany, making her face look strange. Tiffany was right. Miss Simmons could easily pass for the ugliest woman in the world.

  "How dare you!" she said.

  Jack looked at Thomas, wondering why he was silent. The policeman was once again staring at the waitress's ass as she leaned over the counter to talk to a cook.

  "Tiffany, let's go. We're leaving."

  Jack's eyes met with Tiffany's as she set down her fork. He had been looking into people's eyes for two centuries. He knew fear when he saw it.

  "Yes, Miss Simmons."

  "Oh!" Thomas said, finally turning his head. "Andrea. This is Jack. He's the one who found Tiffany roaming the streets."

  "I wasn't roaming the streets," Tiffany said quietly.

  "We've got some good stuff this time. Monsters, thugs on the street."

  "She's been watching too many movies," Andrea Simmons said, not taking an eye off Jack. "I guess I should thank you, even if your manners are horrible."

  "Fuck you. How's that for manners?"

  Tiffany tried to stifle a laugh, but was unsuccessful. She quickly drank a sip of orange juice. Miss Simmons shot her foster-child an icy glance. She took a step forward, rage spreading across her face. Jack had no doubt her foster-children had seen that look many times.

  "Whoa, now," Thomas said, springing to his feet. "Let's all calm down. Andrea, if you'll come back to the station with me, please. We've got some paperwork, and I'll give Tiffany the required lecture I know you've both heard by now."

  Miss Simmons grabbed Tiffany's hand and led her away from the booth. Thomas tried to follow, but Jack grabbed his arm.

  "Did you not see what just happened there?"

  Thomas rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Tiffany told you she's being abused."

  "Do you really not see it?"

  "We've been out to Andrea's place many times. It always checks out. She has other fosters, and none of them say anything is going on. Tiffany's cried wolf so many times I wouldn't believe her if she said it was raining."

  "So, you'll dismiss her, just like that? She's just running away all the time for the fun of it?"

  "I don't blame Tiffany for her behavior. She's had a...rough childhood."

  "Haven't all foster-kids?"

  "Not like her. One parent dead, the other left her to fend for herself in their apartment. The girl's had it tough."

  "Wow. Sucks to be her, I guess."

  "Yeah, well, it was nice meeting you. You're such a charming guy."

  "I hear that a lot."

  Thomas joined Miss Simmons and Tiffany and left the diner. Tiffany waved before being nearly dragged out the door.

  It was a shame. Jack didn't like many people, and he avoided children as often as he could. But Tiffany was okay. It was terrible she got stuck with such a horrible foster-home.

  Jack put her out of his mind and finished his breakfast.

  If the police didn't care, he didn't either.

  CHAPTER 5

  Jack didn't arrive home until nearly ten in the morning. He spent time at the beach watching the sunrise, and then strolled through Cromfield Park. He liked spending time at the park, a nice way to kill time in beautiful weather.

  He turned onto his street and saw an unfamiliar Porsche parked behind his truck. His first thought was of the neighbor's offspring, however, he drove a Jeep. Jack wouldn't put it past the stuffy rich family to buy their teen a new Porsche.

  As he drew closer he saw someone knocking on his front door. It was a woman, judging from the shorts and bikini-top slowly coming into focus. No doubt she had the wrong house. Jack had received one visitor over the past month, and that was the annoying smelly man who hooked up his cable.

  He kept an eye on her as he walked up the sidewalk. She knocked on the door once again, her back to him. Very nice, athletic figure. Cut-off jean shorts that showed off lean legs and a pair of sandals. Pale skin. Striking red hair.

  Jack froze on the sidewalk, near the corner of his lawn. He couldn't believe it was her.

  His normally calm mind raced. He knew this moment would come eventually, even after nine decades.

  He never thought it would come under the light of day.

  She tilted her head back and lifted her nose. He smiled as he watched her sniff the air, a motion he'd seen many times before. Memories and a sense of déjà vu flooded over him.

  Victoria turned to face him.

  Gone were the long curls she wore in the early twentieth century. Her beautiful red hair was straight, just a little past her shoulders, and suited her well. She still looked great, her looks aided by the supernatural. He could only imagine how many heads she turned on the beach.

  He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Part of him wanted to walk toward her and hug the only person in his life that at one time he considered a friend, even family. Another part of him wanted to spit in her face.

  She smiled at him. He tried to smile back, but it didn't quite come off right. He walked across the lawn to meet her.

  As she stepped off the porch the
morning sun touched her. She held a hand over her eyes to block the light. Jack eyed her body, which she was definitely showing off. Victoria wearing clothes designed for exposure to the sun was a foreign sight to him.

  "We can’t cure cancer," he said. "There are millions of people homeless, starving. But I’ll be damned if we’re not gonna figure out a way for a bloodsucker to get a suntan. I love science and technology."

  Victoria laughed and looked down at herself.

  "Well, suntan, no. My skin won’t darken. But the sun feels so good. Who knew I had a bikini body all these centuries? There’s an interesting story behind all this. Care to hear it?"

  "Nope. Not really."

  She smiled. "Your loss."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to get some beach time, figured I’d look you up. Can we go inside?"

  Jack hesitated before moving past her to his porch. Victoria walked behind him as he unlocked the front door and stepped into the living room.

  "Nice place," she said. "No pictures on any of the walls, no art. Plain, neutral colors. No personality. It’s definitely you."

  He spun to shoot her a glare, but noticed the smile on her face. She was joking.

  "Is it still Victoria?" he asked. "Or are you on a new name now?"

  "It’s Victoria. Took an identity to get back to it, but I’m Victoria once again."

  "You always loved your mother’s name."

  Victoria smiled as she sat at the breakfast bar. Jack moved in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of tea. He paused for a moment before grabbing a second glass and holding it out to her.

  "Oh, no, thank you. My sun allergy may be gone, but I’m still a vampire. Blood only here."

  He put the glass away and sat across from her.

  "So, John Kursed," she said, pronouncing his name correctly. "Real cute. I take it you handle your own identity changes?"

  "Just the name part, because of a nice little mistake my last handler made. I spent the last identity running around as Byron."

  Victoria laughed. As conflicted as Jack felt, he'd missed the laugh of his best friend.

  "It’s not funny," Jack said. "I had to kill the guy."

  Victoria stopped laughing as she studied his face.

  "Gotcha," he said.

  She laughed again as she brushed her red hair behind her pale shoulders. Jack imagined she had no trouble luring mortals into dark corners and robbing them of their blood.