sprouting yet, but everything was neatly laid out in beds and
labeled. She'd nearly forgotten about his passion for cooking and
gardening. It didn't fit his personality.
"You're growing again," she
said.
"Yeah. I've been working
so long, but after Chicago I figured it's time to relax a bit. No
more custom suits and business meetings for a while. Try to enjoy
life as best a cursed human can."
Victoria took a deep breath and put a
hand on his shoulder. He didn't like being touched, but she was one
of the few who could get away with it.
"My life has been pretty
wild these past few years. There's something we need to
talk..."
She trailed off as a scent grabbed her
nose, followed by the sound of someone quietly coughing. Peering
into the neighbor's yard, she saw nothing.
"What?" Jack said. "What's
the matter?"
"I think you have someone in your
shed."
He stared at the shed before giving
Victoria an angry glance.
"You don't have people after you, do
you?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes as she put a hand
on her hip.
"Yeah. I've got werewolves
and vampires after me, and they're hiding in your shed."
Scowling, he walked up the
lane in between the garden beds and approached the shed. Victoria
was a step behind, sniffing the air. It took her a moment to
pinpoint some details, but they were so odd she didn't believe
it.
Her sense of smell was proven right
once again as Jack threw open the unlocked shed door and turned on
the light.
A young girl cowered in
the corner next to a lawnmower. A backpack sat on the ground next
to her. She huddled under a jacket, her bare legs sticking out. It
looked like she had fallen making her way into the small shed, as
one leg had a cut and a trail of blood ran down to her
sock.
"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
labeled. She'd nearly forgotten about his passion for cooking and
gardening. It didn't fit his personality.
"You're growing again," she
said.
"Yeah. I've been working
so long, but after Chicago I figured it's time to relax a bit. No
more custom suits and business meetings for a while. Try to enjoy
life as best a cursed human can."
Victoria took a deep breath and put a
hand on his shoulder. He didn't like being touched, but she was one
of the few who could get away with it.
"My life has been pretty
wild these past few years. There's something we need to
talk..."
She trailed off as a scent grabbed her
nose, followed by the sound of someone quietly coughing. Peering
into the neighbor's yard, she saw nothing.
"What?" Jack said. "What's
the matter?"
"I think you have someone in your
shed."
He stared at the shed before giving
Victoria an angry glance.
"You don't have people after you, do
you?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes as she put a hand
on her hip.
"Yeah. I've got werewolves
and vampires after me, and they're hiding in your shed."
Scowling, he walked up the
lane in between the garden beds and approached the shed. Victoria
was a step behind, sniffing the air. It took her a moment to
pinpoint some details, but they were so odd she didn't believe
it.
Her sense of smell was proven right
once again as Jack threw open the unlocked shed door and turned on
the light.
A young girl cowered in
the corner next to a lawnmower. A backpack sat on the ground next
to her. She huddled under a jacket, her bare legs sticking out. It
looked like she had fallen making her way into the small shed, as
one leg had a cut and a trail of blood ran down to her
sock.
"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
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