Jack Kursed Read online

  "Tiffany!" Jack shouted. "What in the hell are you doing in my shed?"

  The girl managed a small wave and smile.

  "Uh...hi?"

  "You know this girl?" Victoria asked.

  "Yeah. This is Tiffany March, a little chronic runaway. And she's really starting to piss me off."

  A few tears ran down her face.

  "Please, can I stay here? I'll stay out of the way."

  "No, you can't live in my damn shed. Get out of there."

  Victoria grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back as Tiffany made her way over the lawnmower and bags of soil.

  "What is going on?"

  "I have no clue. She hates her foster-mother. I can't say I blame her. The kid ran away from home last night, says she saw a monster in the alley. I found her, took her to the cops. Now she thinks my shed is a damn hotel room."

  Tiffany stumbled coming out of the shed. Victoria caught her before she could fall, Tiffany in one hand and her backpack in the other.

  "Whoa, there. I’m Victoria. You’re Tiffany?"

  The girl nodded shyly.

  "Well, Tiffany, let’s go in the house and talk, get you something to drink."

  "She’s not stepping foot in my house. Look at her. She’s covered in filth."

  "Jack," Victoria said, glaring at him.

  Tiffany walked through the garden to the back door. Victoria moved slowly, her hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  "Come on. We have to help the kid."

  "No, we don’t. This is bullshit. I do my one good deed per decade, and this is how it turns out? I gave her a hand last night. Got her some food and let the police take it from there. I can see the foster-mother gives her a hard time, but that’s not my problem. The police didn’t care. Why should I?"

  "You don’t care about anything, do you? Didn’t care about your hometown, didn’t care about Monterrey. We should have a bunch of shirts printed up that say I Don’t Care."

  "If you think it’ll make some money."

  Despite their typical butting-of-heads, she laughed.

  "Look," he said, his face hardening. "I’ve always been honest. The people that strung me up and killed Angela...they all deserved to die. I am not a good person, but I like who I am. I care about two people. Me, and you. That’s it. Tiffany made me laugh a few times last night, but she’s got her own problems to solve. She’s not my problem."

  Victoria sighed, but liked hearing that she was once again in his good graces.

  "Let’s just take her inside and figure out what to do. Then you can get back to your wonderful life."

  The three stepped through the back door into the kitchen, and Jack immediately became irritated. Tiffany tried her best to wipe her feet at the door, but still tracked dirt onto the tile. He barely held in a groan.

  "Sorry," she said.

  "Whatever. You thirsty?"

  She eagerly nodded her head. Victoria sat at the breakfast bar and motioned for Tiffany to do the same.

  "You’re very pretty," Tiffany told Victoria.

  "Why, thank you. You’re a very pretty little girl yourself."

  "Okay," Jack said, pouring the child a soda. "Not to interrupt this pretty-fest, but why did you run away again? And how the hell did you even find my house?"

  "Miss Simmons is the meanest woman ever. I don’t want to live with her."

  "Eh, life’s full of disappointments. Get used to it now."

  Victoria shot him a nasty look.

  "Anyway," he said. "My house?"

  Tiffany smiled and rooted through her backpack. She produced her camera, and pulled up the picture she was looking for. Jack traded the camera for the glass of soda. He stared at the picture and laughed before handing it to Victoria.

  "They took her back to the station, and she took a picture of the paperwork I filled out."

  "I got directions from the library," she said. "I’ve got a bunch of pictures. Pictures of the police station, the policemen, Miss Simmons pretending to cry. But the picture of the monster doesn’t look good. Maybe monsters can’t have their picture taken."

  Victoria laughed. "Clever girl."

  Jack tried not to smile, but his lip curled up anyway.

  "Tiffany, you’re a cool kid. But you can’t stay in my shed. You’re gonna have to go to the police. Understand?"

  She pouted. "But then I’ll have to go back to Miss Simmons."

  "I don’t know how foster care works, but you won’t be with that bitch forever. Someone will adopt you. Just hopefully not a serial killer or something like that."

  "Jack!" Victoria said.

  "No one will adopt me," Tiffany said, lowering her head.

  "Whatever. Let’s just get going. Maybe Victoria will let us ride in her Porsche. We can stop and get you something to eat."

  "But you're the only person who's ever been nice to me."

  "If I had a heart, that might get you somewhere. Get your stuff."

  Jack circled the breakfast bar as Victoria frowned at him. He simply shrugged. What did she expect him to do?

  He grabbed her backpack and tried to set it on her shoulder. Tiffany winced and let it fall to the floor. She picked it up with her other hand.

  "What's your problem?" he asked.

  She said nothing, just lowered her head and stared at the floor. Victoria and Jack traded looks before the vampire moved from the stool to her knees in front of Tiffany.

  "Tiffany, are you okay? What's wrong?"

  The young child looked up slowly, her eyes full of fear.

  "Miss Simmons got real mad."

  Victoria shifted Tiffany's shirt around to see her shoulder and the top of her arm was bruised. The bruises were spread out slightly, some larger than others. Tiffany tried to pull away, but Victoria held her steady.

  "Your foster-mother did this to you?"

  "Yeah. She used a belt this time. She left bruises, and they hurt."

  Victoria looked up at Jack. His face was unreadable, and he was quiet for a long time. She waited patiently to see his reaction.

  "Do you have any spare clothes in that backpack?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Okay. Go upstairs and get cleaned up. Take a bath, take as long as you like. Throw your dirty clothes down the steps. I'll wash them."

  Tiffany walked through the living room and had one hand on the stairwell railing when she turned around.

  "So...I can stay in your shed?"

  "Go."

  She disappeared up the stairs. Jack exchanged another look with Victoria before moving into the living room. He hooked his iPhone into the largest dock Victoria had ever seen and sat on the couch. Jimi Hendrix filled the room. She sat in the chair across from him.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "Thinking. I always listen to Hendrix when I think. I met him once. Coolest guy you’d ever meet. I helped him change a flat on the side of the road."

  "I had sex with Jim Morrison."

  He looked at her.

  "Just kidding. What are you thinking about?"

  "About what to do with this kid. I knew she was verbally abused, but I only suspected physical abuse."

  "You thought her foster-mother was beating her, but didn't say anything?"

  "Actually, I did tell the cops. They blew me off, and I went home."

  "Jesus, Jack. Let me guess. You don't care, right?"

  "Hey, what did you want me to do? Do you stop and help everyone on the street? The kid's lucky I bought her breakfast. Anyway, stop giving me shit. I'll try to help now, just to keep the girl off my property."

  "I always knew you had a conscience in there somewhere."

  "Whatever."

  "Plan A is still on the table. Take her to the police, and tell them she's being abused. It's a little hard not to see now. She's got some nasty bruises."

  "I don't trust Parkville's finest to do the right thing. They think Tiffany is a liar. I'd rather not deal with them."

  They were both quiet as the minutes stretched.
They heard the bath water running upstairs, followed by her clothes flying to the bottom of the stairs. Victoria watched him as he fought internally. Part of him, a very large part, kept going back to Plan A. Drop Tiffany off, and be done with her. He didn't know her. He didn't care about her.

  But for reasons he couldn't put a finger on, Plan A felt very wrong to him.

  Victoria stood up and grabbed his laptop bag from the corner. Jack laughed. She was already making herself at home.

  "Go ahead. Just use my stuff."

  "I am."

  "What are you doing?"

  "Looking up Tiffany March. Seeing if there's anything out there."

  "Remember in our day when we had to walk to the library? If any porn pops up, just ignore it."

  He turned ideas over in his mind as she browsed the web. It all came down to one question. What was the best thing to do for Tiffany, while also being the easiest for himself?

  "Wow. Tiffany made the news a few years ago. Her mother died from cancer when she was four, and her father just split. They found her alone in their apartment after a month, living off rotten food. I hope she doesn't remember that."

  Jack said nothing. He simply grunted.

  "What are you thinking over there?" Victoria asked.

  "I'm thinking I kill Andrea Simmons."

  "Her foster-mother?" She shook her head. "So much for that conscience I thought you had."

  "Can you think of anything simpler or cleaner? I kill her, and every kid she has gets moved to different foster homes."

  She looked up from the laptop. "You're serious? Some things just never change. You have a problem, and the killing starts."

  "So, you think it's wrong to kill a child abuser?"

  "I've killed a lot of people, too. Just like you. But that should be the last thing you try, not the first. You have other options."

  "Like what?"

  "Let her stay here."

  "My shed's off-limits."

  "I don't mean the shed, ass. Here in the house. You've got...what, four bedrooms here?"

  "I don't even own a bed, Victoria."

  "That's my point. Get a sleeping bag and let her stay upstairs. You'll never even see the girl."

  "I somehow doubt I could get certification to be a foster-parent, nor would I want to. There’s probably more legal crap than I care to deal with."

  "Please. With my contacts, I could have you one before tomorrow morning."

  "I've got my own contacts. I bought my way out of a mess in Chicago. I could buy Tiffany's way out of the mess she's in. I guess she could stay here for a while. Keep her upstairs, put out some food and water."

  "She's not a dog."

  "I know, I know. I can do this. Let her stay, help her get adopted by a nice family. I can squeeze two good deeds in a decade instead of one."

  Victoria laughed. The water drained from the tub upstairs, and Tiffany walked down a few steps so she could see the living room. She nearly looked like a mummy, with a towel wrapped around her head and another around her entire body.

  "What are you doing?" Jack asked. "You're dripping water all over the place."

  "It's scary up there. All the rooms are empty."

  "There aren't any alleyway monsters up there."

  "Be nice," Victoria hissed. She smiled at Tiffany. "Come on down here."

  Jack felt panic coming on as he watched Victoria dry Tiffany's hair. Tiffany was a living, breathing person, and he was going to let her stay at his home. He didn't even like pets.

  However, he admired the girl. He remembered that defiant look she gave him on the street, hands on her hips, looking up at him intently. Her foster-mother abused her, but she didn't let that stop her. Not even losing her parents could stop her.

  Still, he was afraid, and he couldn't remember the last time that happened.

  "Am I making a big mistake?"

  Victoria gave him a wide-eyed look. He read her mind perfectly clear that he should watch what he said around Tiffany.

  "I don't know. Maybe. But look at it this way. It won't kill you."

  "Hilarious."

  She laughed and refocused her attention on Tiffany.

  "Jack and I were talking while you were in the bathroom. You're gonna stay here for a few days."

  "In the shed?"

  "Nope. Not the shed."

  "The closet? Miss Simmons would sometimes make me stay in the closet if I was bad."

  "Are you sure I shouldn't kill her?" Jack asked.

  Victoria gave him a scowl.

  "You can sleep on the couch. Jack will take good care of you."

  "I know. I like him. He beat up a bunch of people last night."

  "That would not surprise me. I have to go, but you're all nice and dry now. You be good for Jack."

  "I will."

  "You have to go?" he asked. "Now? Seriously?"

  "I've got other reasons I'm here besides seeing an old friend."

  "Yeah, I figured as much."

  "I'll be in town for a while, though. Let's trade numbers." She smiled as she watched Jack operate his iPhone. "I had the original iPhone when it first came out. It got ruined when I got dropped in a river. I'll have to tell you that story sometime."

  Jack was quiet, and she could see the tiniest bit of apprehension in his movements.

  "Hey, you'll be okay," she said. "I've got some things I need to do, but we'll talk tomorrow. Okay?"

  He nodded. His mind was organizing the many things he needed to do as well.

  He walked Victoria to the door and opened it for her. She stepped onto the porch and turned to face him.

  "I don’t think she bites or anything."

  "Listen, I’m glad we’re talking again."

  She smiled. "I just had to let you cool down for a century. I always knew we’d talk again."

  Jack waited until she vanished down the street in her Porsche before closing the door. He turned to see Tiffany standing in the living room, still in her towel, staring at him.

  "Don’t you have clothes to put on?"

  She nodded.

  "Well, go do it. Are you hungry?"

  Another nod. The girl sure was quiet at times.

  "Go get dressed. I’ll make something to eat."

  He worked in the kitchen as Tiffany dressed upstairs. He was still worried, but knew the worst thing she could do was annoy him. Between her time at school, playing with whatever friends she had, and being in her room, he would never see her.

  It was almost midnight when Tiffany walked into the kitchen wearing a simple shirt and sweatpants. She climbed on a stool at the breakfast bar and took a bite of a sandwich he'd set out for her. He closed his laptop and looked at her.

  "No pajamas?"

  She shook her head.

  "Well, that will have to do. I’ll be one hundred percent honest with you. You’ll be staying here for a while. I don’t know how long. I’ll try my best to find you a family, get you adopted."

  "Miss Simmons said no one will ever adopt me."

  "Miss Simmons is a bitch. I saw that about two seconds after she stepped in the diner. You can pretty much ignore anything she’s ever said to you."

  The girl laughed.

  "Okay, now, you’ll probably miss a few days of school-"

  "I’ve never been to school. Miss Simmons taught us at home."

  "Ah, wonderful. Okay, we’ll have to enroll you in school. I’ll get you a bed, some clothes, all that fun crap. But for tonight you can sleep on the couch."

  She wrinkled her face. "Why?"

  "I don’t sleep, so I don’t have a bed. A couch is all I got."

  "No, I mean, why are you being so nice to me?"

  Jack leaned back to reflect on that question.

  "I have no idea. I’m still trying to figure that out myself. I’m not a nice person, and I hate kids."

  "You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met."

  He gave Tiffany a half-smile. "Then you haven’t met many people."

  "No. You’re
the nicest."

  "I’ll take your word for it," he said with a laugh. "Okay, I’m not the best judge of time, but I think midnight is very late for a...how old are you?"

  "I’m eight."

  "For an eight-year-old to be up running around. I have a lot of work to do. I’ll be on the back deck getting to it. Sorry, no blanket or pillows."

  "It’s okay."

  "Alright. Have fun sleeping."

  "Thank you, Mister Jack."

  "Whoa, no mister. Just Jack."

  She laughed before moving to the couch. He followed her and reached out to turn off the light.

  "Good night," she said as she curled up on the couch.

  "Yeah, yeah."

  He grabbed his laptop and phone and walked through the kitchen to the back deck. He wasn’t convinced killing Simmons wasn’t the easiest route, but he did have another idea in mind. Subtlety, as Victoria called it. It would still require some work, and a lot of phone calls and emails. He laughed to himself as he sat at the outdoor table on the deck overlooking his garden.

  "It's a good thing I'm not tired."

  CHAPTER 7

  Victoria stretched her arms over her head as she stepped into her hotel room. Spending the day with Jack was the most fun she had in a while. No hunting werewolves, battling vampires, or helping new friends adjust to the supernatural world. She loved her new friends dearly, but it was nice to not have to explain the way the world worked.

  Jack already knew.

  Her thoughts drifted to her oldest friend. Like she expected, he hadn't aged a day. Same brown hair, same blue eyes, same handsome looks, same personality. Jack could be an amazingly caring person to those he was close to. The problem was he wasn't close to anyone. He was a destructive force of nature to anyone on his bad side.

  Yet he had taken in an abused child. She didn't want to tell him to his face, but she was proud of him.

  Stripping off her shorts and shirt, she walked around the room in her bikini. It was foolish, she knew, but the skimpy outfit reminded her she was the most unique vampire in the world. The sun could no longer harm her.

  She had Kevin Mishnar to thank for that.

  At the thought of her new friends, she reached for her iPhone. She missed several calls throughout the day, and could guess at some of the messages.

  She put a hand to her head at the sound of Alex Teague's voice. Alex was a unique creature, a half-demon with a history crazy enough to drive a normal person insane. His own parents conceived him simply to sacrifice him to demons, hoping to gain their power. Things didn't go as planned, and Alex ended up with demonic power and a set of wings. Despite all of that, unlike Jack, Alex Teague was one of the nicest people she'd ever met.