Twice Cursed

by Marianne Morea

  Ryan turned his face away, clearly unsure as to what to think. But when he turned back, his face was questioningly defensive. “Hunt. What are you talking about, Lily?”

  “Why should I go into any more detail, when you haven’t believed a word I’ve said so far?” She grabbed her mug off the counter and filled her cup, feeling Ryan’s eyes watching her as she added milk and sugar. With a quick breath, she turned back to face him.

  “It’s obvious to me this conversation is going nowhere,” she said, drumming her fingers on the side of the mug. “We’re at an impasse. You can’t wrap your head around what I’m telling you, and I have a rogue vampire I need to kill. I could try and explain, but I think you’ve had enough revelation for one day.” She paused. “At this point, the only way I can see us clear, is for you to do whatever it is you need to do, and I do whatever it is I need to do.”

  Lily looked down at her mug and frowned. “Tell Shaw whatever it is you need to tell him. It’s not going to affect me that much.” She lifted her chin, shifting her gaze to meet his. “I know what I have to do.”

  Ryan was quiet. Doubt and suspicion still warred in his eyes, but they had lost their defensive glare. His forehead creased, and Lily could see him mentally gauge the probabilities. Unfortunately, nothing in his training had prepared him for this. He sat down again, his forearms flat on either arm of the chair, while his hands curled and uncurled around the edges.

  Lily watched as he grappled with reasonable explanations and came up empty. “Are you okay?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward. But he put his hand up, and she stopped.

  Annoyed with herself, she exhaled through her teeth. Mouth almighty strikes again. She had pulled the rug out from under everything he knew, or thought he knew, about this world, and then told him to suck it up. How else did she expect him to react?

  You went on a vigilante rampage…remember? Terry’s voice was sharp in her mind. Turning back toward the counter, she opened the cabinet and took out a glass and a bottle of Jamison’s, pouring him two stiff fingers of scotch.

  “For what it’s worth, I know exactly how you feel,” she said, placing the glass on the table in front of him.

  He picked up the glass but then set it on the table again. Looking over at her, he hesitated, “Lily…I can’t,” he said shaking his head.

  She put her hand up, considering him for a moment. “I know Ryan. Just do me a favor and don’t assume that I’m crazy. Someday I’ll tell you about how I came to know what I know. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Although ironically, that’s where I did a lot of my hunting.”

  Ryan picked up his glass, giving her a quizzical look.

  “Never mind. That’s a story for another time,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Drink your scotch; you look as if you could use it.”

  His gaze softened, and he gave her a faint smile. “Rose-lipped maidens, light foot lads…“ He lifted the glass in a quick salute and then shot the drink back. Swallowing hard, he winced, coughing a bit. “What about you, or don’t you need one?” he asked, tilting the empty glass toward her.

  She shook her head. “No. I need to keep my wits about me, just in case I get another visitor.”

  He looked at her strangely, and then it dawned on him what she meant. “You mean visitor, as in the goes bump in the night kind?”

  “Exactly,” she answered, picking up his glass, exceedingly aware of his eyes on her. “I’ve never heard that toast before, but I like it. Where’s it from?”

  “Talk about changing the subject. It’s from a poem. A. E. Housman's Shropshire Lad, 1896.”

  She shrugged, putting the glass in the sink. “Guilty. I just didn’t want to get into it again. You have enough to digest, don’t you think?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  He nodded and pushed himself up from his chair. “Lily…”

  She held up a hand. “Don’t. Just sleep on it, Ryan. Nothing is going to get done tonight, no decisions are going to be made. We can talk tomorrow, after you’ve had time to think.”

  Shoving her hand in her pocket, Lily balled up her fist, pressing her nails into her palm. Regardless of how civilized and calm they both appeared, neither could deny the immense leap of faith this was going to take for this case to proceed. The burden belonged to both of them. The question remained, could they shoulder it together?

  The hall was dim, and the warm, reflected light from the kitchen did nothing to ease the feeling of melancholy that washed over her as she handed Ryan his coat. He slipped it on without a word, fishing in his inside pocket for something.

  “Here’s my business card. It has all my numbers on it. Call me if anything else weird happens, or if you ‘get’ anything that might help us out.” His voice was flat, but at least it wasn’t hostile.

  Lily took the small white card from his hand. Us. Did he mean the two of them or did he mean the police? From down 8th Avenue, the sound of sirens in the distance echoed through the apartment, their muffled shrill almost answering her question.

  Ryan put his hand on the doorknob, but turned back, his eyes questioning. “What you said before, about tap dancing through my brain—you weren’t kidding, were you?”

  Lily shook her head, regret biting into her gut at the reminder. “No,” she answered softly. “But then again, I wasn’t kidding about any of it. I just hope you see that before it’s too late.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest, expecting something, but he left without another word. The door closed behind him, and the sound of his feet on the stairs vanished almost immediately. Lily turned back toward the kitchen, an empty feeling welling up inside her chest. Did they accomplish anything today, or as usual, did she just make things harder than they had to be? The question didn’t need answering. She had the power to fix this, and unlike the last time she went hunting, she wasn’t alone. She had Sean.

  ***

  Jack got out of the car and walked around the block toward the house. “Crowded, crazy city,” he mumbled, stepping up onto the curb, juggling a pizza and a bottle of red wine. He stopped as a black and white cat raced out of the alley between the buildings, and skittered to a stop in front of him. Its hackles rose, and it hissed, before taking off across the street and disappearing behind the dumpster next to the Korean market.

  He shook his head. No self-respecting wolf had any use for the feline set, except as hunting practice. He glanced back over his shoulder, watching as the cat sat perched on top of the dumpster like it was king of the hill. Jack chuckled to himself. The full moon was only a couple of days away, and…here kitty, kitty.

  He opened the vestibule door and pressed the buzzer next to Lily’s name on the call box in the lobby.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Jack the Ripper, who else?”

  “Ha. Ha. Don’t flatter yourself. Did you remember the pizza?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Buzz me up, will you?”

  The buzzer sounded, and he jostled the door open and headed up the stairs. “Pizza Man!” he shouted, surprised to find the apartment door unlocked. Lily must be seriously hungry, considering how she’d reamed his ass about leaving the door half-open his very first day.

  Lily came out of the living room, her iPod playing in the background. She looked tired. “Oh, man, that smells great!” she said, taking the box from him and heading straight into the kitchen. “…and you need to open whatever bottle you have hiding in that brown paper bag, ‘cause I could use a drink.”

  Jack put the wine down on the table and took off his jacket. He wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “Was somebody here?”

  “Yeah. Detective Martinez. He’s working the case with me—or he was, at least. He drove me home, why?”

  “Whoever he is, the boy left a funky smell in the air, that’s all,” he said, coming into the kitchen. “Hey, do you by chance own a cat?”

  Lily looked up, licking her fingers, a confused look on her face. “No. And even if I did, I’ve been gone for the past two months, Jac
k. Do you think I’d be that neglectful a pet owner?”

  He smirked. “Nah, just checking. This cat raced out of the alley just before, and with the full moon and all, I thought I might have a little fun with it...you know.” He waggled his eyebrows, his meaning crystal clear.

  Lily stopped, her fingers holding stringy mozzarella cheese halfway to her mouth. “Oh, no you won’t, Jack. I mean it! This is not Maine, and these are not wild animals. That cat probably belongs to someone, and I won’t have you terrorizing the neighborhood pets.”

  He just looked at her, the smirk still on his face.

  “Jack? I’m serious. Don’t make me call Sean.”

  Hmmph. “Party pooper. Just wait until you’re a full Were, then come talk to me about being PCC.”

  “PCC?”

  “Pet politically correct.”

  Lily burst out laughing. “Talk about comic relief after the day I’ve had! You seriously need to go on David Letterman. Come on, open the wine and have a slice of pizza, there’s a lot going on that I need to tell you about.”

  Jack stiffened, all humor gone. “What?”

  Lily put a slice of pizza on a paper plate and held it out toward him. “Stop right there. It has nothing to do with Edward Parr or wild, horny Weres chasing me down. So sit down and I’ll tell you.”

  Eyeing her, he took a corkscrew from the top hook of the sideboard and sat down. “Then spill it already, or I’ll be the one calling Sean,” he said, pointing the sharp edge of the corkscrew her way. He didn’t mention Sean had already slammed him with a telepathic inquisition, wanting to know why Lily’s mind was in such a logjam. Now both men were suspicious, and whether she wanted to or not, she was going to tell them what was going on.

  He took the plate from her hand and put it down on the table, reaching for the bottle of wine. He cut the thin metal casing away from the cork while he waited for her to start talking.

  “After you dropped me off this morning, I met with the chief, and two of the detectives involved with the case,” she said, getting up to grab two wine glasses from the cabinet.

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. What happened after that?” he asked, twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle.

  “I got a small glimpse of what happened at the crime scene the minute Detective Martinez handed me the case file. From there I asked to go to the morgue.”

  “And?” Jack prompted, pulling the cork from the bottle.

  “There was a Shade at the morgue.”

  Jack looked up from pouring the wine into the two glasses. “A Shade? Like Terry?” he asked, pushing one of the long stemmed glasses toward Lily.

  “Yup. One of the victims.”

  Jack didn’t say a word; he just stared at Lily with the bottle still poised over the other wine glass.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not being haunted or anything. But from that point, the images that followed made it imperative I see the crime scene.”

  He put the bottle down on the table. “For Christ sake, Lily! Land your plane, already! Stop giving me minor details and get to the point. What happened?”

  She took a sip of her wine. Just thinking about what she had seen and smelled made her hands shake. “The crime scene was destroyed. It was worse than if a car bomb had gone off. But the horrific images from inside the building told me there was no way a human was responsible.”

  Jack finished pouring and took a sip of his wine, his eyes locked on Lily. “A Were, then?” He pressed his lips together, the taste of the words sour in his mouth.

  “No. Vampire.”

  Jack opened his mouth to say something, but then mashed it into a thin line. He put his glass down on the table and pushed himself up from his chair. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve never actually had any contact with the undead.” Standing with his hands flat against the table’s smooth wooden surface, he leaned forward, his gaze locked on Lily’s face.

  “Yeah, I have. Whom did you think I was hunting before I headed back to Maine to track Jerard? Like you said, I cut my teeth on things way hairier. I guess you didn’t realize that included the fanged set, as well.”

  Staggered, Jack just stared back at her. “You hunted vampires? Sean never said anything about that. Are you fucking crazy, or just plain stupid? Vampires are more vicious and bloodthirsty than any Were you’ll ever encounter. They kill without provocation, just because they can.”

  Lily shrugged. “You were the one who found the crossbow among my things while I was unconscious after Jerard’s attack. What did you think it was for?”

  Jack took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Lily…this is bad. Have you told Sean yet?”

  Lily shook her head. “ No. I haven’t had time. Things got a little hectic this afternoon.”

  No shit, Jack thought. “How many?” He needed to know, especially if Lily was going to be involved, and knowing her, she was probably already up to her ears in it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Now’s not the time to play dumb, Lily. Was it just one bloodsucker, or was it a pack? Vamps don’t usually hunt together like Weres. They prefer a more solitary existence, especially since they don’t exactly play well with others, if you know I mean.”

  “Just one. But there was something bizarre about it,” she said, shoving her plate away.

  “How so?” he asked. As if having one of the undead as the perpetrator wasn’t bizarre enough.

  Lily chewed on her lower lip, her face pensive as if struggling to find a way to phrase it. “It was as if the images were trying to tell me something, I mean other than who was responsible. There was something underlying it all, Jack, and I can’t help the nagging feeling that I’m missing the mark.”

  “Can you tell me what you sensed, what the vamp showed you?”

  Lily nodded. “Yeah, but finish eating first or trust me, your appetite will take a hike along with whatever’s in your stomach.”

  “You do realize you’re going to have to tell Sean, because if you don’t, then I will.” After Sean’s telepathic tirade earlier, he wasn’t taking a chance on a lie of omission. He liked his pelt where it was, and he planned to keep that way.

  Lily exhaled. “I know. And don’t worry, I won’t put you in the middle, or make this difficult. I just want to give it another day or so. I need to see if I can narrow things down. I know what happened, but I don’t know why.”

  “Why? Who cares, why? The vampires have their own protocol for dealing with things of this nature, and as supernaturals, we’re obligated to inform their council—especially since the police have been sniffing around. With you involved, it makes the situation even more imperative.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because, technically you’re a Were.”

  “So?”

  “So? Lily, there are rules to handling cross-supernatural incidents. In their eyes, you’re a Were, but one of little significance. You being involved and working the case in conjunction with the human authorities will only give them grounds to accuse us of infringement and collusion. As our alpha, Sean is the only one who can approach without provocation.”

  Lily pressed her lips together. “No. We are not calling Sean, at least not until I get a better handle on things. If the vampires have a council, then they probably know what’s going on. If I’m technically a Were in their eyes, then don’t you think it makes more sense for me to gather as much information as I can, before we let the vamp out of the bag? One day, that’s all I’m asking, Jack. Just give me one more day. I promise I’ll call Sean.”

  He took a big gulp of his wine and then pointed the edge of his glass her way. “Okay. But it’s your ass, not mine if he starts growling.”

  She smirked. “Don’t worry. I know exactly how to handle Sean when it comes to my ass,” she said pushing herself up from the table, giving Jack a little ‘Baby Got Back’ wiggle, as she sashayed with her wine glass toward the sink.

  Red wine spewed across the table, and Jack coughed, wiping
his hand across his mouth. “Trouble, that’s what you are, and that’s what I’m going to be in, I know it,” he said, trying to mop up the mess with his napkin.

  Lily bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Aw, come on, Jack, don’t be that way. I’m sorry.” She grabbed a handful of paper towels, handed half to him, and then with the rest, caught a thin ruby line before it trickled off the table.

  “Tell you what; dinner is on me tomorrow night. Anywhere you want to go in the city.”

  He looked up, still scrubbing his shirt. “You’re on. But I should warn you, I’m not a cheap date.”

  She laughed out loud. “The good ones never are.”

  ***

  Martinez downed the last of his beer, the butt of his glass thumping against the scuffed oak bar.

  “Wanna another draft?” the bartender asked, wiping up a spill from his last order.

  “Nah. I think I’m gonna head home, Arnie. Thanks anyway.”

  The bartender nodded. “Too bad,” he teased, his lopsided grin making his broad face seem even broader. “The brunette sitting at the table in the corner has been eye-fucking you for the last hour, but then again, you’ve been too busy stacking matchbooks to notice.”

  With a raised eyebrow, Arnie cocked his head to toward the full-figured beauty pushing her way past the crowd in their direction. Chuckling, he gave Ryan thumbs up and quickly made himself scarce.

  “Leaving so soon?” the woman drawled, her eyes sweeping Ryan’s face and chest.

  “I was.”

  She pouted. “Too bad. And here I was, ready to ask if you’d like to join me for a drink.”

  Ryan’s eyes took in her full length, from the top of her frosted head to her wide blue eyes and full mouth, and every curve the rest of the way down. Her makeup was a bit over the top for his liking, but she seemed eager, and after the day he had, he was more than ready to lose himself between a pair of long legs.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Charlie. My mother named me after her favorite perfume…you know, the one that was so popular back in the late seventies?”