AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He studied her, wondering what happened to that bright, vibrant young woman with ambition and plans. She wore cut-off denims and tiny tank tops in summer back then. She talked about books and British rock music, not religion and vampyrs. Not a damn crucifix in sight.
A figure walked up to their table. A slim young girl with red hair and a pretty face wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and ripped jeans.
“Can I, erm, get you anything?” she asked.
Jess turned. “Mayflower. How are you?”
“Okay.” The girl shuffled a little awkwardly.
Jess offered a cool smile. “You dyed your hair again.”
“Yeah, I wanted a change.”
“Yeah, well, we all want a change sometimes. But most of us go back to our roots in the end.”
They stared at each other, then Mayflower nodded. “Let me know if you want to order anything later.”
She turned and walked away.
Tucker frowned. “Anything I should know?”
“Nothing worth knowing.”
He didn’t push it. That never worked with Jess.
“How’s Stephen?” he asked.
“Okay, considering his best friend is dead and those damn spawn are still alive.”
“I’m truly sorry about what happened to Marcus. But if the boys hadn’t faked that video…”
“What? You’re saying it’s their fault?”
“No. I’m saying it muddies the water, Jess. Atkins, she’s a good detective—”
A snort. “Says you.”
“I’m saying she will investigate every angle, tie up every loose end before she even considers a cull. Hiding stuff, making it harder for her, is just going to slow things down.”
“Whose side are you on this time, Tucker?”
He sighed. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I just want to find Marcus’s killer. And if you want a cull then you need to put Atkins in a position where she has to authorize one. Where there’s no wriggle room, no doubt.”
He waited. There was no point appealing to Jess’s sense of compassion when it came to the Colony. You had to appeal to her hatred. And he had a feeling, a hunch, that she knew something.
She seemed to debate with herself. Then she shook her head. “Fine. The detective mentioned a tattoo Marcus had?”
“A Helsing tattoo.”
“Where did he have it?”
Tucker frowned. “On his shoulder, I think.”
She nodded. “It was new.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Marcus slept over about a month ago. Boys, they wander in and out of the kitchen all the time, often just in shorts…he didn’t have the tattoo then. And the last time the boys got the train to Anchorage was at the beginning of September.”
