The Cursed by Blood Saga

by Marianne Morea

  Jack raised his beer bottle in salute. “So they called you, instead. Nice work,” he said, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

  The bartender shook his head. “Hand to God, my friend, I don’t know what she did or how she did it, but it worked,” he said, giving Lily an appreciative smile. “And don’t let her fool you. She may be tiny, but then so is an M-80.”

  Lily patted the bartender’s hand. “I was glad to help.”

  The bartender nodded, sliding his hand out from beneath hers. “You’re okay in my book,” he said, before turning to help customers at the other end of the bar.

  “Does Sean know about how you ‘clean house’?” Jack asked, taking a sip of his beer.

  “Yes, he does, but we don’t really talk about it much. The past couple of months have been…strained.”

  Jack’s gaze softened. “That’s an understatement, but I wouldn’t worry. Things have a way of working themselves out, even if it’s not how you planned. You just have to leave yourself open to change.”

  “Change, huh.”

  “Yup.”

  Lily considered him. Leave yourself open to change. Yeah, okay, Jack. You’re about as subtle as my .45.

  The whole question about her transformation to full Were was off limits, and he knew it. In the last two months, she’d had enough change to fill a lifetime, thank you very much. It was hard enough wrapping her own head around the idea, let alone trying to explain her hesitance to Sean and Rissa. Why all of a sudden did Jack feel the need to add his two cents worth? Well, she wasn’t taking the bait. Until further notice, off limits meant off limits.

  Swiveling her seat around to face the room, she glanced out the tall windows at the darkened street and the light rain shimmering in the glow of the streetlights. She took in the antique sconces set into the original brick walls, the polished bar and the wide planked floor. The place never changed, seemingly as at home in the modern world as it was back in 1887 when the restaurant first opened.

  In her peripheral vision, she watched Jack sip his beer, tilting the brown bottle up and then absently running his thumb over the condensation-wet label. A shadow crossed his eyes, and for a moment, he wore the same expression she’d seen on Sean’s face when he was brooding. Perhaps there was more to Jack’s idea of accepting change than she thought. It’s not always about you, Lily. Terry’s voice interjected at the back of her head.

  “Ms. Saburi? Your table is ready,” a waiter interrupted.

  Jack threw twenty dollars on the bar and waited for Lily to grab her purse. They followed the waiter downstairs to their table at the back of Driggs dining room.

  Conversation filled the cozy setting, a low buzz hovering just above the sound of clinking silverware and tinkling glasses. The dining room’s rich, warm décor created an inviting ambiance, but despite its welcoming appeal, an edgy tightness had settled between Lily’s shoulders. They ordered their food, and though Jack managed to shake whatever it was that temporarily preoccupied him, she, on the other hand, couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that crawled its way up her spine. Her ‘spidey senses’, as Carl liked to call them, were tingling.

  The house sent a bottle of merlot to the table, and Lily did her best to smile as the sommelier opened the wine, but even its smooth bouquet and fruity peppery bite couldn’t ease the tense feeling. Something was up, only she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “You okay?” Jack asked, watching her face.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I just have this knot between my shoulder blades that won’t loosen up,” she said, rolling her shoulders for effect. “The weather always seems worse on this side of the river, especially in winter. Maybe it’s the wind.”

  Jack snorted. “Right, because it’s so much colder and wetter here than on the other side of the bridge.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The waiter brought a basket of bread and put it on the table with a small silver container of garlic butter. Jack took one of the long seeded rolls and broke it half. “It means that comment made you sound like a typical Manhattan snob. ‘I can't move to Brooklyn, even cabs won't go there!” he said in a high falsetto voice.

  Lily’s mouth fell open, and her eyebrows shot almost to her hairline. “Tell me you didn’t just quote Miranda from Sex in the City,” she asked, tilting her head to the side in amused disbelief.

  Biting into his roll, he gestured with the bread in his hand. “Hey, if the high heels fit,” he said, chewing.

  Oh, no he didn’t! Pulling her foot back, she kicked him hard under the table.

  “Ow! What was that for?” he said, dropping his roll on the table.

  At his stunned look, Lily burst out laughing. “You’re kidding me, right? Sticks and stones, Jack, but a swift kick works like a charm when you want to shut someone up. And, by the way, I am not a snob!”

  “Not cool, Lily,” he said, wincing as he rubbed his shin.

  She chuckled, picking up her wine glass. “Cool? I don’t know, Jack,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think guys are allowed to use that word once they can quote scenes from chick flicks.”

  He straightened up and picked up his beer. “Are you done?”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you?”

  The waiter interrupted, bringing their salads. “Your steaks should be out soon. Is there anything else I can get you? Some fresh ground pepper, perhaps.”

  “No, thanks. We’re good for now,” Jack replied, watching Lily’s amused face. “How’s your neck, by the way?”

  Lily stopped with her wine glass half way to her lips. Straightening her back, it cracked a bit, but other than that, her muscles were as loose as noodles. “Well, well, well…” she said, smirking.

  “Nothing like a little adrenaline rush to help you forget about muscle tension, eh?”

  Lily picked up her fork, shaking her head. “Nice. I can only imagine what you’d do if I needed to scare away a case of hiccups.”

  They sat in relative silence while they ate. Jack’s humorous detour may have helped relieve the knots at the back of her neck, but did nothing to alleviate the feeling of dread that seemed to seep from the walls.

  Whatever it was, it lurked on the periphery of her second sight. With a feather’s touch, she sent her senses out, tendrils spreading from her consciousness. In New York City, criminal behavior was never in short supply, and with that in mind, she searched for anything out of the ordinary. She could feel the weight of what lurked like a set of watchful eyes, but couldn’t find its source. Who was watching, and why was it watching her?

  The waiter returned, carrying a large tray, and Lily reeled herself back in. She’d have time again to feel out what was eluding her for the moment, but right now, the tantalizing aroma and telltale sizzle of porterhouse steaks rose along with the steam from the top of their plates.

  “Bon Appétit,” the man said as he placed the last side dish on the table.

  Wine glass in hand, Lily took a sip, watching Jack dig into the aged beef, so large it hung over the edge of his plate. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked, still centering herself.

  “Mmmhmmm.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  Jack swallowed, then picked up his beer and took a sip, watching her from across the amber colored curve of the bottle. “You’ve barely touched your food, what’s the matter? You said things went fine today with Terry’s parents.”

  The waiter filled their water glasses, and Lily smiled up, when he asked if everything was okay. “Fine, thanks.” The man put another roll on her bread plate and with a nod, moved to another table.

  “Well?” Jack continued.

  Lily picked up her butter knife and slid it into the corner of her roll. “Things went great. In fact, better than great. Bev and I had a long talk and we both realized how much we need each other in our lives,” she answered, breaking the roll in two with her thumbs.

  Jack tilted his head, pointing the tip of his beer in her direction. “You m
ean you realized.”

  Lily shifted slightly in her seat. “Yes, Mr. Know-it-all…I realized,” she said, reaching for the small silver butter dish, and scooping some of the creamy yellow with the edge of her knife. With a couple of quick swipes, she spread the butter, lifting her thumb to her mouth to lick the excess from her finger.

  “Glad to hear it. But if that’s not what’s bugging you, then what? And don’t say it’s nothing, because the scent of anxiety is coming off of you in waves.” He dug his fork into his baked potato, bringing the steaming, sour creamed deliciousness toward his mouth.

  She put the buttered roll down on her bread plate, and then smoothed her fingers against the starched linen napkin resting on her lap.

  Sean picked his hunters well. Jack was smart and almost as perceptive as his alpha, but she wasn’t about to say anything about what she sensed. She may have picked up on a flutter in the atmosphere, but it was much too premature to do anything about it yet. Telling Jack would only turn him into an overbearing wolf.

  Sean would be so proud.

  She’d given Jack enough of a heads up already. Perhaps what she sensed was nothing more than a by-product of full moon fever, and it was her turn to have sensibilities go haywire. She still hadn’t forgotten how Jack had looked before he left for his run.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it has to do with what we talked about earlier. I know you took my head off for calling you a babysitter a few days ago, but after what you said, I can’t help but feel like we’re back at square one.”

  “Square one? What did I say?”

  She frowned, her brows knitting together as she looked at him. “Jack, you said, and I quote, ’Sean puts my skills on ice at times’. That sounds an awful lot like disgruntled, and I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with you being here with me, instead of up at the Compound,” she said, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.

  “I didn’t say my skills. I said our skills. Sean is the Alpha, and as members of his hunters, each of us is obligated, by more than just loyalty, to obey.”

  “I understand the political maneuvering going on in your world right now, and with the way you said it, it makes me think you’d rather be in the thick of things up there, instead of down here with me.”

  A small smirk spread across Jack’s mouth as he leaned forward with his forearms on the table. “You know, for someone so smart, you can be really dumb sometimes. And what’s with the, ‘your world’, crap. Last time I checked we were both a part of that world, or does that mean you changed your mind about Sean in the last few days?”

  Lily picked up her wineglass, but put it down again. “Now, look who’s wearing the dunce hat? I never said that, not even close,” she shot back with a huff. “But since you’re obviously trying to change the subject, it must mean I hit a nerve. Answer my question. And what’s all this bull about you being obligated by more than just loyalty? Are you trying to tell me Sean forces you to do things against your will?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Not that he ever has, or will,” he hesitated, “…only that he can. At least that’s what I’m told. As to putting our skills on ice, I was referring to the bedpan duty Sean gave us last month,” he answered with a matter-of-fact frown. “It’s not exactly the hero-hunter role I looked for when I joined the Hunters. But I get it. I’m one of the newest to join, so shit rolls downhill. “

  She raised one eyebrow. “Pun intended, I’m sure.”

  He chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. “You got that right.”

  Lily gazed at him still unconvinced. “You still haven’t answered my question, though. What about now? Is shadowing me the equivalent of a Hunter on bedpan duty?”

  Jack’s smirk spread into a full on grin. “Other than you being a royal pain in the ass? No. I volunteered for this assignment. I mean, hey, what better way to move up the ranks then to guard the Alpha’s girl?” he added, waggling his eyebrows. “Besides, somebody needs to keep track of what you’re up to.”

  “Me? And what am I up to?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, how about hunting rogue vampires, for one?”

  “Hmmm. And let’s not forget the cynical cops I’ve been hanging out with, and my almost non-existent credentials by the time this is all over, and the fact that Sean is still stuck playing political Russian roulette with a power hungry sociopath.”

  Jack tapped his fork lightly against the side of his plate, a frown creasing the area between his eyes.

  Exactly.

  Lily exhaled, picking up her knife and fork. “Who could blame either of us for being distracted? Hell, but this is progress, as far as I’m concerned,” she said, gesturing with the utensils. “If this was a couple of months ago, I’d be almost postal.”

  She sighed. Dramatic much? Count your blessings, things could be much worse. Her stomach clenched. There it was again, that uneasy ripple along her sympathetic nervous system, making her pulse quicken. “Maybe I’ll join you the next time you go for a jog. Might take the edge off for me too.”

  “We could always walk home.”

  She choked, swallowing a piece of her steak, hard. “From Brooklyn? Are you nuts?”

  He pointed his fork at her, bouncing slightly up and down. “Hey, we took the subway across the Williamsburg Bridge, with you insisting the entire way that I needed the whole New York experience. So once we cross back over the river, why don’t we walk home from the Delancy Street subway station instead of taking a cab back from that point?”

  Wiping her mouth, she considered him. “You do realize that means walking almost completely across town?” She waited for him to say something, but he just shrugged. “At night,” she added to reiterate her point.

  Jack shrugged again, picking up his water glass and signaling to the waiter for a refill. “It’s only about two and half miles, I clocked it in the cab over from the apartment. Maybe, we can go barefoot in Washington Square Park, like in that 60s movie with Jane Fonda and Robert Redford.”

  The waiter poured ice water into both of their glasses, and topped off Lily’s wine. She cut another piece of steak, and dipped it into Peter Lugar’s famous steak sauce, letting the combined flavors melt in her mouth.

  “I’m starting to wonder about you, Jack. First quotes from Sex in the City, and now classic movies. I don’t know whether to be impressed or suspicious,” she said with a chuckle. “But as to walking back, I suppose we could do it. That is, if it’s not raining.”

  Savoring the taste of the food on her tongue, she mulled over Jack’s idea. Maybe it wasn’t as dubious a suggestion as she first thought. Plunging herself into the thick of things worked best these days, and perhaps it would give her a better bead on what was making her senses erratic.

  Fork and knife in hand, he leaned forward to make his point. “Come on, with your stress levels and my usual peccadilloes compounded by the full moon, we need to head out on foot at some point tonight. So eat up. You’re going to need all the energy you can get.”

  The dessert cart passed, and Jack rubbed both hands together, like a kid. “As for me, I’ve got my name all over one of those ‘Holy Cow’ hot fudge sundaes and a piece of New York cheesecake.”

  Lily raised an eyebrow. “Can you say WerePiglet?”

  “Oink, oink.”

  Chapter Eight

  The two walked up Broadway, past New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts. The famed university comprised whole area, with student and faculty buildings surrounding the park and its environs. They crossed onto Washington Square Place, two blocks from NYUs Arts and Sciences building and the park entrance at Washington Square East.

  The unease rippling along Lily’s nerve endings had subsided by the time they had finished dinner and left the restaurant. But when they got off the subway and started walking, the feeling of being watched came back with a vengeance. It crawled up her spine and over her shoulder, and the closer they got to Washington Square Park, the louder the warning
bells clanged in her head.

  She tried to shake it off, but profiling was akin to speaking another language—if you don’t use it, you lose it. Except for the few hours she’d spent with Martinez, she hadn’t really worked in months. She was out of practice and could almost smell the thin metallic coating of rust on her deciphering skills. Odds were, what she sensed was no more than the average aura of menace hanging like smog over dark corners of the city.

  “The Arch is just around the corner. Do you want to head into the park here and walk over toward the fountain, or do you want to head over to University Place and the north entrance?” Lily asked, as they stopped at the corner. Shifting her weight in her boots, she winced.

  “Don’t tell me your feet hurt, because I know you’ve tracked creatures for longer than we’ve been walking.”

  With a grimace, she shot him a dirty look. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not wearing heels. If I had known we’d be traipsing all over lower Manhattan on foot, I’d have worn my shit-kickers.”

  “You’re the one who’s supposed to be the psychic.”

  Grimacing again, Lily toed off her right boot, scooting back to lean against the scaffolding in front of NYU’s Silver Center. “I knew you were going to say that. I’m psychic, Jack, not the Amazing Kreskin,” she grumbled, rubbing the ball of her foot.

  A high-pitched howl cut through the empty street, jerking her back to attention. The sound came from somewhere down University Place, and Lily jammed her foot back into her boot, her senses moving into overdrive. It was a definite cry of pain, but the sound was anything but human.

  “I knew it!” she hissed through her teeth. Rusty skills my ass. Grabbing Jack by the arm, she tugged on his jacket. “Let’s go.”