Jack Taylor

With the two officers mangled and left to soak in their wounds, Jack stepped out of the interrogation room to a floor full of stares before he whipped out a handkerchief to wipe his knuckles and everyone quickly went back to work, his eyes falling on someone who was still staring. “Do you have something to say?” he stated as he tossed the handkerchief in the trash, blue eyes narrowing on her. // @everyreborn​

@jacktxylor

There were days when Callie just couldn’t keep herself in the confined walls of the erikkson household. Not to mention, the small space that the vampires did have to roam. So, like her usual trouble making self – Callie found herself wondering deep into the woods of the witches’ land. A mistake that would soon be made known to her. The last thing she expected was to be ambushed and thrown against a tree by an angry witch who wanted revenge from the death of the late regent. God, did these people not let anything go? Before Callie had a chance to pounce, she was forcefully shoved against the tree once again. This time she was able to get a look at her attacker – a meekly little witch girl whose angry face would have brought on laughter, under different circumstances.

“Oh bitch. Big mistake.” Callie growled, as she was able to catch her feet and pounce on the woman. Her fangs bared, and the veins under her eyes visible. Just before, she sank her teeth into the woman’s neck, she felt a stabbing pressure close to her heart. Before she realized what was happening, she was being staked to the huge tree behind her. Though, the wood wouldn’t kill her – it didn’t make it hurt any less. The stake broke off short enough, that Callie couldn’t grab it without being in agonizing pain – the woman ran off.

“you have got to be fucking kidding me.” Callie shouted out in a mixture of frustration and pain when she realized she wouldn’t be able to get the stake out herself, her eyes frantically searched for her phone to realize how far away it had dropped from her. 

Jack had taken to hunting at night when he was given a mission, and sometimes that included laying in wait for something that may never come. He was perched in a tree near the edge of the woods, bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows that were tailor made for vampires and wolves alike. He had no particular target in mind tonight, but ever since the very public murders of their own, Olivia wanted him on the offensive so something like it never happened again. 

By the time the commotion from behind him reached his ears, he almost considered staying out of it, minding his own business so that his location wasn’t divulged. Then the scream that rang out reminded him of someone he knew far too well and within moments he was on the ground and staring through the darkness as if that would shed some light on the dire situation. 

He followed the sounds of her struggle until he spotted Callie’s familiar frame bound to the tree, lowering the bow as he moved closer to her. “What the hell happened to you? What did you do?” he hissed, almost sure that she’d done something to provoke yet another creature that wanted her dead. At some point she had to realize that she wasn’t the most popular thing in town.

Sian’s eyes hardened as she bared her teeth. “Didn’t your mom teach you to respect your elders? Or did she croak before she got to that lesson?” She snapped, not intending on a true response.

Sian knew it was a low blow, shitting on the dead. And as she grabbed her coat hurriedly, there was her rather usually ignored conscience scolding the comment. The witch couldn’t help it. Both her and Olivia had experienced rather degrading and misogynistic comments before. As if being two, strong and powerful beings weren’t hard enough, but constant taunting on their love and protection for one another made it tens times worse. Sian knew it was only the result of small minded individuals with lack of emotional stamina. It shouldn’t have bothered her much to begin with. There was part of her, though, that grew tired with the constant need to prove herself and her loyalty.  To make those with such ignorant opinions look upon her with respect.

Instead, it was fear. Always fear —- and a trail of dusting corpses in her wake. How much more did she have to burn in order for idiots like him to get the point?

With a final pointed look directed towards Jack, Sian stood up with intent to finish what she started. “No matter what she said, doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy maiming and torturing my way through every suspect in the city. But don’t worry, I’ll remember to make sure Olivia knows just how helpful you were.”

Jack’s eyes darkened at her comment, almost wanting to drive her small frame right through a wall, but he kept still, staring after her. Everyone knew how close Sian and Olivia were, and while everyone thought they were together in other ways, Jack was mostly convinced that they were for themselves rather than the coven. Granted, their former regent was a selfish woman that had only thought of herself and her own power, so he didn’t have a great person to model a regent after. He didn’t know Olivia well enough to say she deserved to be regent, nor that she even knew how to be.

“Make sure you mention that you’re going against her wishes while you’re at it,” Jack stated as he watched her pull her jacket on. “I’m not scared of her, or you. I’ll be sure to drag your ass in for questioning just to ruin your day,” he said as stood and pulled his own coat on. “Try not to leave too many bodies lying around. I’d hate to have to throw you in jail.”

If anyone ever found out about what had happened two nights before, she was sure the witches would find a way to kill her. If Caleb didn’t first. Taking the bottle back into her hands, she tilted her head back and took a long gulp out of the bottle. She would need the liquid courage for what was about to happen. After a moment of letting the booze kick in, she kept in her hand, just holding it up - to make sure it didn’t spill.  Her feelings about Jack were hate filled mixed with lust? It was as if she couldn’t get him out of her mind. 

“Screw you.” She said with a roll of her eyes, but a smirk grew on her face after a moment. The tight outfit, left little to imagination - not that he needed his imagination, he had saw it all a couple of nights before. Her body began to move with the beat of the music that filled the air. Swaying her hips against his own, bringing the bottle back down to her lips and taking another sip. She would definitely regret this in the morning.  

Jack knew they were playing with fire, but somehow he liked the feeling of being burned. If his own kind found out that he was cavorting with an original vampire, especially one that was responsible for the death of their former regent, he’d surely be put to death, if not something worse. And her family were the oldest vampires in existence, all her brother had to do was look at him and he was as good as dead. 

“Don’t worry, I intend to,” he smirked as she rose to her feet, his gaze raking over her body hungrily. How could one woman be so damn tempting? A low groan escaped him, but he caught it quickly, staring at her as her hips moved over him, both taunting and mesmerizing him all at once. One hand reached out to pull her body a little closer, loosening the tie on one side of the outfit she wore as his hand dragged along bare skin. “Take it off.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You’d get burned messing with my fire.”

With a quick glance to make sure no one was looking, Sian reached into her purse to pull out a flask. It was never too early to add a bit of courage to your daily tea, or at least, that was her way of looking at it. Sending a quick wink Jack’s way, her violet-eyes quickly refocused on watching the contents flow into her cup before quickly returning the flask to its hiding spot. After hearing his next comment, it was hard to keep her hackles from rising because to her it was disrespectful to speak of the regent in such a derogatory manner. More so, it wasn’t the first time someone had made sly remarks about her status and relationship with Olivia. It never ceased to make her uncomfortable. In order to keep her hands busy and not ‘accidentally’ rip out his tongue, Sian took her stirrer to mix the blend together before replying. “I’m not her lap dog. I’m her right hand. And, unlike you, I’m irreplaceable. Capiche?” She ended in more of a sure statement before raising her cup to her dainty lips.

Changing the subject quickly, Sian got back to the topic at hand. “Anyway, figured I’d go out and do some recon. Basic truth spells—- see what I could find out. You in or not?”

“You think so?” he smirked, almost intent on goading her into proving her point. But he knew Olivia wouldn’t appreciate two of her own fighting, and the last thing he needed was to get on the bad side of another original. 

“Did your owner tell you that? Should we put a collar on you and start whistling for you to come?” Jack mocked, rolling his eyes as he leaned forward in amusement. It was never not amusing to mock Sian on her relationship with Olivia, mostly because the two of them were inseparable. It would have been unhealthy if everyone didn’t already believe they were sleeping together. 

“Olivia said you couldn’t kill anyone didn’t she?” Jack asked with an arched eyebrow, surprised at the sudden rationality.

As much as she wanted to rip his head off of his shoulders, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She used the excuse that she had already caused herself too much trouble with the witches, but deep down she knew that wasn’t the cause. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “You wish, Taylor.”  She scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder for affect. As much as she hated Jack and everything that he stood for, she couldn’t deny his request - in fact she found herself agreeing too it. 

“Just don’t stare at my ass, as I walk away.” She said before turning around and quickly making her way back to the bar. An unusual feeling in her stomach told her it was a bad idea, but before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, a bottle of whiskey. “Ten minutes on the dot, as requested. Make this worth my while or i’m charging you double. I’ve got a bar full of drunken men needing refills out there.” 

“Too late!” he called after her, his eyes falling to the perfectly rounded backside that fit a little too well in the uniform she wore. He was unashamed, smirking a little to himself as he disappeared and headed to the back of the club where the private rooms were. He knew they’d probably deny a second time ever happened, but at least this way he could get her out of his system and shake the uneasiness he felt about killing her. Jack was content with chalking it up to a sex haze.

Dropping down onto the rounded couch that could almost pass for a bed, Jack glanced around the room, recognizing just how familiar it was considering it was the same room they’d defiled just a few nights before. When she entered right on time, a slow smirk spread across his face as he took the bottle from her grip. “For that ass? I’d gladly pay double. Now if only you’d stay quiet long enough for me to appreciate it,” he said as he tipped the bottle up and took a long swig, handing it back to her. “I believe I paid for a dance.”

      Jack was one of her patients she thought she should see more of —not for the fact that she enjoyed his company, though that was certainly true. With his line of work, though, she wouldn’t be satisfied until they were doing twice weekly sittings, and maybe the occasional phone call during increasingly stressful times. It was enough to be a police officer in a city like Chicago, but in Chicago specifically, with its budding war… Well, there was no amount of therapy that would suffice, if you asked her. 

      “Not yet,” she answered. “Though I have doubts that I won’t leave this conversation unchanged.”

“Oh come on, I can’t be the worst one you have,” Jack smirked. Therapy was a requirement for the job he held, but most days he didn’t take it seriously. Talking did nothing for him, other than bringing up the past that most of the time he wanted to forget. It probably would have done him some good, but he refused to face that fact until he was strapped down to a bed and forced to.

“Guessing you saw the display of dead bodies all over town then. Shouldn’t you have your hands full with traumatized kids that have never actually seen a dead body?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

It wasn’t often that Callie had been left speechless, but this was one of those times. When he mentioned the night the two of them shared a week before, the redness in her face brightened. She had tried so hard to forget, forcing herself to not relive the memory in her mind and here he was announcing it out loud. The nerve. This is what he did to her, and she hated it. When she was around him, she became unsure of her thoughts and movements - and she couldn’t stand the thought. Jack Taylor was like a high she couldn’t come down from.  

“I know - It was the best night of your sad  mortal life. But don’t think that just because I didn’t kill you then, I won’t do it now.” Just as the words left she watched as he stood from his chair, and slipped a hundred through her waistband. Her eyes followed the movements of his hand, then back up to his eyes. Their bodies inches away from the other. 

“I’m not a dancer, so it looks like you’re out of luck.” She said. After a moment a devilish grin formed on her face. “Get me drunk enough however, and I might reconsider.” 

“I’ve had better,” Jack shrugged. “You seemed a little off your game,” he smirked as his gaze scanned over her features. She seemed more tense than she had been that night, probably because he had some kind of effect on her. He would deny until his death that she had an effect on him, but being so close to her just proved that a one off simply wouldn’t do.

“Do it then,” Jack countered with an arched eyebrow, fingertips grazing against her skin as he pulled his hand away. “Alright then. Make that drink a bottle and meet me in the back in ten minutes,” he said without moving away from her, eyes locking on hers.

“What can I say, I have a nice ass.” Callie shrugged, before turning her head towards the man who was starring, before turning her attention back to Jack. As much as she wanted to throw him out of the club, she had no right - that and her shift manager would scold her for throwing out a paying customer. 

“I told them you were dead. Can’t have people thinking that me, an original, can’t take out a puny witch.  How’d yours take it?” Her smirk only grew, as she took down his order - her head shooting up at the private dance request. “You got a girl in mind?” She arched her eyebrow - before turning to showcase the many women on the stage. 

That’s for damn sure. He fought the urge to look at the ass she was talking about, because he knew already what it looked like. It was haunting him. Shrugging at her words, Jack leaned forward a little, smirking as he met her gaze. “They came to the conclusion that since an original can’t be killed, fucking you was more than enough to prove the originals aren’t so scary.” It was a bluff, he hadn’t actually admitted to sleeping with her. He didn’t want Sian to rip his head off before Olivia had a chance to stop her. 

Rising to his feet, Jack smirked and took a step closer to her, slipping a hundred dollar bill in the waistband of her outfit. “Wouldn’t want to turn down a paying customer, now would you?” he said, the lack of space between them making the air thick with tension.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish TAYLOR.”

Sian was joking. Well, sort of. Fire was her life’s blood, an addiction that was borderline deadly but all the more enticing. Being a pyromancer had its perks and drawbacks, but that didn’t stop her from indulging in flames in all sorts of ways. “I’m pretty sure you do more than work while basking in the shadows. I mean, don’t we all?” That was a jab, she had to admit. A part of her not being able to resist poking at the obvious.

With a roll of her eyes, Sian let a humorless chuckle. “Funny. Though I was thinking of something less furry and more…dead.”

“Oh yeah? Who says I can’t finish it?” he smirked. The two of them fit together well, mostly because they were equally obsessed with murder. It generally gave them something fun to talk about.

He had a feeling if given the opportunity, she’d probably set multiple things on fire, so he was glad she took it as a joke. “Isn’t that the best way to do it?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

When she mentioned hunting down something dead, his curiosity was peaked, leaning forward a little. “You mean more? Someone’s already taken out two of them. Kind of thought it was you honestly, you are Olivia’s lap dog. You two sealed the deal yet? We’re taking bets on when you’ll jump into bed together.”

“How about I slap you just because you TEMPTED me.”

Sian’s eyebrow raised mockingly. For her, that was a gesture of good faith, the equivalent of a warm smile or something of the sorts. It was hard to think or do anything positive this early. At least, for her it was. But still, she happened to see her fellow coven mate while in line for her morning tea and decided to grace him with her presence. After all, Sian had to keep up appearances and pretend like she didn’t know that Jack could be betraying the one person she’d KILL for. So if that meant cordial talk like nothing was wrong, Sian would play the part to her dying breath. “Late night I presume?”

“How about I set you on fire and see how fast you can put it out?” Jack countered with an arched eyebrow. 

Arching an eyebrow in her direction, Jack glanced over at her, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, late night working. Have you ever seen me do anything else?” he said with amusement in his voice. Granted, he had taken a break from work for one specific occasion, the one time he’d failed in a mission, but no one else knew that. Only Olivia who had assured him that killing an Original wasn’t possible for the moment. “And who are you torturing today? Kittens? Bunnies? Maybe a squirrel or two?”

      Rosa spent an appalling amount of time in one coffee shop or another —whichever was the least crowded, which really made little difference between one or the other in a city as busy as Chicago. Still, she looked for as much peace and quiet as she could, and took the time to move between people watching and reading as she worked her way through two large cups of tea. It was always two, always chai, always with just a hint of sugar. She liked things to go to plan, it was safe to say, set in her ways as she was. Still, some surprises were pleasant, and running into a familiar –and friendly– face was one of them. 

      “I’m certain that breaches at least one code of ethics, Mr. Taylor.” She quirked a brow in his direction, turning her book over to hold her place. She looked at him, wondering how he was doing today and in general, lately —but she made a point not to ask those kinds of questions to her clients if they weren’t in a formal session. “I hope the caffeine does its job, for the sake of your face, if nothing else.”

Jack chuckled a little at her words, nodding with a knowing look. “That’s true. But I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said with a wink. Granted, he knew she probably wouldn’t, nor would anyone else, but at least he wouldn’t end up asleep on the table and end up missing his next interrogation. “It is such a nice face isn’t it?” Jack smirked, glancing up at her. “How are you Miss Rosa? Any crazies rubbing off on you today?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Amber immediately said out of pure instinct before bringing her own cup of coffee to her lips. While Amber’s ‘human life’, as she called it, had nothing to do with being an interrogator, she did want to be good at it while she was in the Coven. She wanted to be valuable, so watching Jack Taylor do his thing, and be good at it, was something that she wanted to be influenced by. She wanted all of that to rub off on her. But seeing him so tired? Didn’t exactly bode well for her. “The Great Jack Taylor is having an off day? What’s the matter? Girlfriend wear you out?” Of course, she was completely kidding. 

He knew how tempting it was sometimes, he could be a bit of an asshole. But he knew Amber just wanted to learn, so he tried to be less of a dick to her when necessary. Shrugging at her words, he leaned back against his seat and took a sip of coffee, sighing as he tried to keep himself awake. “Work wears me out. Apparently being great at my job means working more hours and never sleeping. On top of the coven, I need to be undead to be able to keep going like this,” he sighed with a roll of his eyes. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working or doing something productive?”

“To the customers I actually like. I can’t really stand the sight of you.” Callie gave a small tilt of her head, before flashing him a smug smirk. God, the nerve of him. How dare he? He knew what he was doing, and that seemed to irritate Callie even more. Watching his eyes rack over her body, caused her to cross her arms across her chest. 

“You were here to try and take me out. That plan was a bust.” She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she thought of the previous night. No. She wouldn’t think about it. “What do you want? Like a beer or something?” 

“And you can stand the sight of the guy with the beer belly over there staring at your ass?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, smirking a little as he leaned forward in his seat. The irrational part of him wanted to throw her down on the table and show her exactly what she was trying to forget, but another part wanted to forget just as badly. 

“And you weren’t? How’d your boss take it, the whole not killing me thing?” Jack asked with a smirk, tilting his head slightly. “Whiskey, straight. And a private dance.”

@jacktxylor

Callie refused to speak of what had happen three nights ago at work. She refused to admit that instead of taking the enemy out, she slept with him. She would never admit to anyone what had happened, and would deny for the rest of her immortal life. So imagine the young woman’s surprise as she was adjusting her apron across her waist, to look up and see the same man she was trying to erase from her memory sitting directly across from her, her green eye’s meeting his own. 

Shit. 

In her section too. Damn it. Her face harden as she straightened her posture, and finally made her way towards the table. “Is there a Reason you’re sitting here? I didn’t think Witches could step foot of their own part of the city.” Callie asked, her voice in an unusual snarky tone. It was like she could be killed, it was a suicide mission on his part to even try to take her out. 

Jack couldn’t deny what happened, even if he wanted to. He’d simply informed his superiors that she was an original, and couldn’t be killed. He had no choice but to abandon his job. It was the first time he’d left without getting his mark, and it was driving him insane. He knew there was probably some way of taking her out, even if it wasn’t death, but part of him was curious why so many wanted her dead. He knew her brother had murdered their regent, but what did she have to do with it?

He sat at the table rather stoic as the women danced in front of him, and finally he spotted her scantily clad frame stalking towards him, a brow arching as he stared up at her. “I was here the other night wasn’t I? This place as the best women,” he said with a shrug, blue eyes raking over her frame as if to prove his point. “Aren’t you supposed to be a little nicer to your tipping customers?”

As he stood in line at the coffee shop, Jack thumbed through his phone, reading over witness statements for what felt like the millionth time and locking his phone in frustration when it still didn’t piece together. Finally, with a cup of coffee in hand, he moved to take a seat at one of the empty tables, huffing as he leaned back against the cushioned chair. “If I fall asleep, feel free to slap me,” he said to the person sitting next to him, only half joking.