Crux

Chapter 7

Jackson dodged a couple of early-morning joggers and cut across the street, deep in thought. He’d hated dropping Mackenzie off at Nick’s place, especially when he knew Nick would probably sleep for several more hours, but he hadn’t had a choice. He couldn’t leave her by herself, and Nick’s renovated side-hall Victorian cottage in the French Quarter was the only place with wards every bit as impressive as the ones at his own apartment. Besides, his only other alternative would have involved bringing her to the office with him, and he wasn’t sure it was a good idea for the two of them to be together anywhere near Kat. His assistant would pick up on the sexual tension between them in a heartbeat.

He wasn’t sure he’d call himself a ladies’ man, but he hadn’t gone lonely, that much was certain. He hadn’t imagined the longing looks Mackenzie had been giving him the night before, or the way her gaze heated when it lingered on him. No, there was something there, all right, an undercurrent of desire that would be next to impossible to hide from anyone with a half-decent pair of eyes, much less an empath.

And he wasn’t quite ready for his coworkers to make his life a living hell.

Still, he couldn’t help thinking about the warmth of Mackenzie’s skin when it had touched his the night before. He’d felt the spark, even through the cheap material of her pajama top, and he groaned silently as he approached the office. If he didn’t bring his thoughts under control, Kat wouldn’t need to see him with Mackenzie to know he’d spent the entire night dreaming of her.

With one last deep breath, he pushed open the door. “Morning. What have we learned?”

Alec retrieved a file from his desk and held it out. “Kat was up most of the night working her computer mojo, so I gave her the morning off. It’s all in here, but the short version is that there was a Jessica Evans from South Dakota who died in a house fire with her parents in 1988. She would have been five years old at the time.”

Jackson glanced through the file. “Anything about the parents or the fire ping as suspicious?”

“Not if you’re looking at the normal sources.” Alec rocked his chair back and forth. “But I made some calls, too. I have a friend in that area. Remember how I said I met a cougar one time?”

Jackson arched an eyebrow. “One of the parents?”

“The father,” Alec confirmed. “Simon Evans. My friend told me his full name last night. Apparently, Simon told everyone that he had a job opportunity in the early eighties and disappeared completely. No one heard a peep from or about him or his wife until the fire a few years later.”

“It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be Mackenzie’s family,” he mused absently. “The question becomes, I guess, who actually died in the fire, if anyone? Or, if it was staged, why?”

Alec shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t help you there. I don’t remember much about the guy. We bumped into him at a bar and played pool for a half hour or so. I was so impressed by the fact that I was seeing a real, live cougar that I hardly paid attention to a damn thing he said.”

Jackson shook his head. “It’s probably not important.” He threw the file on his desk and walked to the coffee maker, starting a fresh pot with distracted, automatic movements. “The guy gave her his name, probably his real one. I’m going to see what I can run down about it today. I might also call Mahalia and ask if she can put me in contact with her friend, Steven, or another cougar. Kenzie’s bound to have questions that you and Nick can’t answer.”

He realized his mistake when both of Alec’s eyebrows flew up. “Kenzie’s going to have questions, is she?” he said dryly. “Guess the Italian food worked.”

Jackson cleared his throat and focused on the coffee maker. Insisting nothing had happened would only amuse Alec further, so he shrugged and ignored his own slip of the tongue. “Wouldn’t you have questions?”

“I’ve got one. If she’s Jessica Evans, that’d make her twenty-five. The odds of her hitting twenty-five without shifting are probably about a few thousand to one. The only time I’ve ever heard of it is in cases where someone’s taken steps to prevent it. But that’s some damn powerful magic.”

Jackson turned and nodded. “I asked her last night, but she doesn’t have a clue. I figured I could add it to the list of things to check with Mahalia about when I call her this morning.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the floor as the aroma of coffee filled the office. “I’ve got that feeling, Alec. The one I get sometimes right before things go to hell.”

His partner studied him. “If Mahalia doesn’t know about the shifting thing, you should ask Nick to call her sister. Michelle can cast a spell that keeps a wolf from shifting. Their father uses it during trials to keep things civilized.”

The disgusted emphasis Alec placed on the last word spoke volumes about how he felt about the way John Wesley Peyton ran the board. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m not sure if that’s what we’re looking at here. I mean, Jesus, that kind of spell? Duration like this would be all but impossible for anyone but the most powerful of casters.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate Michelle. There’s a reason people like her end up executed by their packs more often than not. The Seers are too damn powerful, and that much power makes them unstable. I like Nick and all, but her sister scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“Just be glad she lives in New York and we’ve got the uncomplicated twin.”

“Yeah.” Alec snorted, poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter. “We’re all having fun teasing you about the girl, but this situation could be serious. Are you going to be able to concentrate if the shit hits the fan?”

“I can get it done.” He grimaced at his partner. “Dammit, Alec. For your information, nothing happened.”

“I’d be a lot less worried if something had. If it were just sex, you could get it out of your system.”

Jackson blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t make a habit of seducing women who’re on the run from supernatural stalkers. That’s a little complicated for my tastes.” He grabbed the phone on his desk. “You’ve got a dirty mind.”

“Never said I didn’t. So you gonna fix the wards on Mahalia’s old place?”

“No real reason to.” Jackson avoided meeting Alec’s eyes as he dialed Mahalia’s number. “It’d probably be safer for her to stay with me for the time being. Since the guy’s goons already tracked her to the bar, I mean.”

“Mmm. I’m sure that’ll do wonders for your concentration.”

“I said I could get it done.”

“Uh-huh.” Alec watched him. “If you don’t have anything else for me right now, I’m going to go annoy Nick by lurking around and keeping an eye on them.”

Jackson waved a hand at him as the line started ringing. “Go. If I need you, I’ll call.”

It had been over a month since Mackenzie had gotten the chance to do something as wonderfully lazy as lounge on a couch and watch television. Of course, only half of her attention was on the television. For someone on the run from an evil gang of supernatural stalkers, she had spent an absurd amount of the morning daydreaming about the illicit things she wanted to do to Jackson.

It wasn’t a productive use of her time. And I don’t care.

She heard Nick before she saw her, the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs reaching her ears over the quiet hum of the television. Mackenzie reached for the remote control and cut off the music video channel as Nick appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Nick. Sorry we woke you so early.”

“Eh, it’s okay.” Her tousled hair fell around her shoulders, and she covered a yawn as she dropped to the couch and arranged her worn terrycloth robe over her legs. “Alec told me Jackson would probably drop you off here before work. Good thing, too. We’ve got some major shopping to do before the afternoon rush.”

Mackenzie blinked at her, hoping she didn’t look as confused as she felt. “Shopping…for the bar?”

Nick grinned and stretched. “Nah. Girl shopping. It’s the best way to dish gossip, and I’m willing to bet you’ve got some after last night.”

She wasn’t the type of woman who usually blushed, but the teasing look in Nick’s eyes made her cheeks heat. “Jackson told me that Alec…told you what happened yesterday,” she said as a way of changing the subject. “How much did he tell you?”

“What, about what happened outside the bar?” Nick made a face. “Just that some whack job is after you, and sent a caster and a big, strapping shifter to fetch you.” She rolled her large brown eyes. “Then he said Jackson took you back to his place and seduced you. But I told Alec that Jackson making Italian food doesn’t mean he tried to climb in your pants.” She paused, taking in Mackenzie’s blush. “Or did he?”

“No.” Damn it. “But he did tell me that you—that you’re a—” It was impossible to get the words out, even if Nick had mentioned “shifters” and “casters” as if they were a completely natural thing to talk about.

“Shapeshifter?” Nick supplied, nodding. “Mm-hmm.”

It sounded insane. “I’m not sure what to think about all of this, honestly. I thought Jackson was insane, but he made himself invisible and that means he’s telling the truth or I’m insane…”

Nick giggled and clapped her hands together. “Bastard. He’s a show-off, I don’t care what he says.” She gave Mackenzie a reassuring smile. “Neither of you is insane. It must seem crazy, and honestly? I can’t even sympathize. I was born into this life. I can’t imagine what it must be like to just find out one day.” She propped her arm on the back of the sofa and rested her head on her hand. “Do you have any questions about stuff? I can try to answer them.”

There were so many Mackenzie hardly knew where to start. She hesitated, gathering her courage, and plowed forward. “Can I see—I mean, can you—” She waved her hand vaguely.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to?”

“No, I’m not. But it might make me stop questioning my sanity.” Or push me over the edge into outright lunacy.

The other woman looked as though she was completely aware of the second possibility. “Maybe we should wait awhile. I mean, if you can take things on faith for a bit. Maybe long enough to have brunch and hit the mall over on Canal Place?”

Mackenzie wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved, so she turned her attention to the second problem. “I can’t afford to go shopping. I didn’t have much in the way of savings to begin with, but I’ve gone through most of it in the last month.”

Nick didn’t look concerned as she crawled off the couch. “I have lots of money.” She headed for the stairs with a look back over her shoulder. “Consider it compensation for keeping me company…and dishing the gossip, of course.”

Mackenzie quickly found that her tiny boss’s enthusiasm for shopping was unmatched. Canal Place had been a bit of a disaster, since one look at the pricey designer boutiques had practically made Mackenzie’s eyes pop out of her head, but Nick had recovered admirably and suggested they head for Magazine Street instead. The shops there turned out to be far more eclectic and far less highbrow, which went a long way toward putting Mackenzie more at ease.

They were sitting on a bench in the early afternoon sunlight, enjoying ice cream cones, when Nick turned to her with a quizzical look. “So, what else did Jackson tell you about me?”

She didn’t want to admit she’d been talking about Nick’s crush on Derek. “He said your father is some…big important leader.”

Nick lowered her voice. “He’s the head of the Northeast Council, and he presides over the other council leaders. He’s a big shot.” She kicked her feet and looked around. “He’s good at all that political stuff, though. Me? Not so much. Which is why I am perfectly content to run my bar and stay out of all that society crap.”

Mackenzie nodded. “Jackson said that his partner and Derek were like you. Is Kat a—a shifter too?”

“No, Kat is psychic. An empath,” she clarified. “That’s why she freaked out when she saw you at the bar yesterday. She was feeling what you’ve been feeling.”

“Oh.” That brought the color back to her cheeks as she imagined the things the girl would have picked up about Jackson. “Oh, my. I imagine that can be…uncomfortable.”

“Mmm,” Nick agreed with a smile. “Don’t worry. Kat’s not as big a gossip as I am. She’ll keep your secrets…for the most part.” Nick tossed her dripping ice cream cone in the garbage receptacle by the bench and stretched. “Ready to get to work?”

Mackenzie nodded and rose, mulling over what Nick had said. Shapeshifters, spell casters, and now psychics. If Kat really had been feeling her emotions the day before, she wasn’t surprised the girl had collapsed. Sometimes she thought the only things keeping her going were fear and adrenaline, but she’d been terrified for so long she had almost forgotten it was possible to feel anything else.

Of course, that hadn’t been a problem since Jackson had appeared in her life. She’d been feeling plenty of things that had nothing to do with fear and self-preservation. If anything, her unhealthy obsession was going to put her in more danger, not less.

The most dangerous thing of all was the fact that, in spite of everything, she couldn’t help but think he might be worth it.

The afternoon rush hit with a vengeance, and Mahalia’s filled with regulars and tourists alike. Nick and Mackenzie didn’t get a chance to slow down until nearly five o’clock, when only a handful of customers remained as most people headed to dinner. Nick waved Mackenzie out from behind the bar with strict instructions for her to take a break before she collapsed.

She’d barely managed to get her apron off when Alec appeared at her side. “C’mon. I got some food for us at a table in the back. Jackson’s on his way.”

Mackenzie followed him. Alec had appeared at their sides on the walk back to the bar that afternoon, flashing Nick an amused grin. Several minutes of heated conversation revealed that Alec had spent the afternoon following them from store to store, a fact of which Nick had apparently been fully aware, despite giving no such indication to Mackenzie. She’d expressed her displeasure at being babysat with vigor, and it had taken most of the trip back for her to run through the list of reasons it had been unnecessary. Alec simply listened impassively, his lack of concern annoying Nick even more.

As handsome as Alec was, Mackenzie found him unsettling. He seemed perfectly content to sit in silence for long periods of time, but there was something in his eyes that made her think he noticed and analyzed everything that happened around him.

He was just as silent now as he’d been all afternoon. After a few futile attempts at conversation that mostly resulted in monosyllabic replies, Mackenzie mentally shrugged and concentrated on the sandwich he’d brought for her.

She’d almost finished eating when Alec’s eyes focused on the door behind her. She stiffened, but heard Jackson’s familiar voice say, “Well, at least Nick didn’t kill you, Alec.” He slid into the booth next to Mackenzie. “Did she threaten him with dismemberment?”

His smile made her stomach do flip-flops. “A couple of times, if I counted right.”

“Good.” Jackson snatched a pickle spear from her plate. “He deserves it. Alec is a certified chauvinist. A total pig.” His gaze drifted over to the bar, where Nick spoke animatedly with two tourists who were thumbing through a handful of brochures for ghost tours. He chuckled and thumped the table, drawing Alec’s attention to the sight. “Hey. What do you want to bet she’s doing it again?”

Alec glanced at Nick and snorted. “If only the people who went on Henry’s ghost tours realized that they were seeing something more impressive than ghosts.”

Nick came over with two beers, one of which she placed in front of Jackson. “What?”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You were sending people on Henry’s tour again.”

“And why not?” Nick asked indignantly. “So he uses some magic, fakes a couple of ghosts. Big deal. It’s not his fault the real haunts are so damn few and far between.” She dropped the other pilsner glass in front of Alec with a thud and poked him expectantly, so he heaved a long-suffering sigh and slid over. Nick sat and held up two fingers. “People who come to New Orleans looking for supernatural crap want two things: vampires and ghosts.”

Mackenzie looked from Nick to Jackson and back again. “So? If this place is crawling with shapeshifters and witches and psychics, why’s it so hard to find ghosts and vampires?”

Jackson sipped his beer. “Vampires are easy. They don’t exist. Ghosts are… Well, let’s just say they’re a matter of some debate.”

“No vampires?” She raised her eyebrows and laughed. “And this guy uses magic to fake ghosts so people will go on his tours?” The sheer absurdity of it made her suddenly certain that they were telling the truth. No crazy person worth a damn would dream up a delusional supernatural version of New Orleans and leave out the vampires.

Jackson grinned at her shocked amusement. “Did you spend your morning ordering straitjackets in bulk?”

“I thought about it. Nick wouldn’t let me, though.”

“Too confining.” Nick cast a knowing look at Jackson. “Did you call Mahalia?”

“I did. Had to leave a voicemail, though. She’s probably out playing shuffleboard or something.”

“God help you if she ever finds out you say stuff like that about her. That woman will end you.”

Their easy banter was surprisingly relaxing, and Mackenzie found herself leaning back against the padded booth as she glanced over at Jackson again. “Didn’t you say Mahalia was the one who taught you that…” She waved a hand. “That invisible thing?”

“She taught me damn near everything I know, actually.” He shifted his beer glass from one hand to the other. “Then she retired to Florida and left me high and dry.”

Nick rolled her eyes and elbowed Alec. “Should we order a violin to accompany his whining?” Jackson moved and she yelped, reaching under the table to rub her leg. “That hurt.”

“Serves you right.” He turned back to Mackenzie. “Mahalia decided to retire, in more ways than one. She sold her bar to this reprobate here, and dropped out of the magic scene completely.”

“There’s a scene?” she asked, wondering why she was surprised. “Are there meetings or clubs or something?”

“It’s not that organized, really, but people tend to be aware of each other. It pays to know who can do what, and whether they’d ever want to do it to you.”

The teasing look in his eyes made more than her face warm. She reached for her soda and tried to seem casual. “I bet it does, at that.”

Nick elbowed Alec again. “Make them stop.”

“Nothing stops Casanova,” Alec replied darkly, nudging Nick out of the booth so he could stand. “I’ve got to go get Kat. Have fun with the young and the restless, here.”

Any self-consciousness Mackenzie might have felt seemed insignificant when compared to her sharp interest in Jackson. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she smiled slowly. “I think that might have been a hint of some sort.”

“Oh God.” Nick groaned. “Jackson, it’s officially slowed down enough now for me to feel comfortable telling you to get her out of here.”

Mackenzie opened her mouth to agree but snapped it shut again. Jesus, what is wrong with me? Jackson was plenty attractive, but she was acting like a teenager in the throes of her first hormonal crush. She wasn’t the type of woman to get stupid over pretty eyes and a handsome face.

Until now. The thought was disturbing enough for her to make an effort to lock down the restless desire before turning to look at Nick. “Hey, I was just kidding around. I’m here to work.”

Nick shook her head. “Go. Have fun. Perry and I can handle it, or I’ll call Allison to help.” She headed behind the bar without waiting for another protest.

Jackson muttered under his breath, “Hey, look. My evil plan worked.”

She tried to give him a quelling look, but she had the feeling it ended up more flirtatious than anything else. “I’m a responsible person. I don’t skip out on work to flirt with cute guys.”

“Nick’ll get over it.” He eyed the abandoned tour brochures on the bar. “Want to go on Henry’s tour? I think he has one that leaves right around dusk.”

There were a hundred things she needed to do that were more important. Maybe a thousand. She tried to concentrate on those things, but the restlessness rose in her again. The idea of spending the evening trapped in a bar—or inside any building, for that matter—was unbearable.

The restlessness wasn’t the only thing she couldn’t suppress. She found herself shifting closer, letting her leg brush against Jackson’s. “Does he really use magic?”

“Sure does.” The corner of Jackson’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Nothing too flashy. Just a little ooga booga here and there to keep the customers happy.”

“Sounds fun.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Will you tell me when he’s doing it?”

His brows drew together, but he only nodded. “Sure. Want to head out? We’ll have to hoof it over to Bourbon for the tour.”

Stop it, damn it. Stop with the flirting. The stress was obviously getting to her, and she needed a release. Maybe walking would burn off some of her extra energy. “Let’s go.”

Jackson took another bite of his frozen lemonade. “So, what did you think?”

Mackenzie laughed and poked at her lemonade with a plastic spoon. “Henry seems fun. He’s a great performer.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good.” He put a hand on her shoulder to guide her past a group of college kids. She seemed fairly relaxed at the moment, something for which he was grateful. All evening, she’d been wavering between tranquil and intense, almost uneasy, and it was starting to worry him. “Anything else you want to see, or do you want to go back to my place and watch some television?”

“Hmm.” She seemed to consider it as she dropped her gaze to her cup again, and her shoulder tensed slightly under his hand. Her next step was too close, and she bumped into him. “Sorry. I think television would be good. I’m tired.”

“You all right?” he asked, concerned. “You seem a little off.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling…antsy. Maybe I’m not used to this much sleep.”

His frown deepened, and he threw the rest of his melting lemonade in a nearby garbage can. “Come on. We won’t wait for the streetcar. We’ll take a cab.” He laid a hand on her elbow and stepped to the curb, raising an arm to signal a taxi.

It was impossible not to hear the way her breathing hitched as his fingers brushed her skin. She shivered and dropped her cup in the can after his. “A taxi might be a good idea.”

When a yellow cab slowed to a stop beside them, Jackson opened the door for Mackenzie. “Hop in, and we’ll get you home as fast as we can.”

She was fidgeting when he slid in next to her, one leg bouncing restlessly as she drummed her fingers on her knee. “Maybe I had too much caffeine.” The light tone sounded false, and he could feel her vibrating with barely leashed energy next to him.

“Maybe.” He found himself wishing Mahalia would call him back. He had the vague, uncomfortable sense that whatever was going on with Mackenzie wasn’t as mundane as a coffee overdose. He gave the cabbie his address and scooted farther from her, moving his leg away from hers. “It won’t be long.”

“Okay.” She let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. After several deep breaths, her body began to relax. “God, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just stress. There’s been so much going on…”

“Don’t sweat it. Stress can do some crazy things.”

“I suppose.” She kept her eyes closed, but her hand snuck across the seat until it found his. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Kenzie.”

They reached his apartment quickly, and Jackson paid the driver while Mackenzie stood by the cab, still looking like she was going to jump out of her skin.

“Come on.” He led her down the sidewalk. “You probably got overheated. We’ll get you a big glass of water and—” His words cut off as he touched his door, his hand flattening against the wood with a slap.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

He cast a quick look around and shoved his cell phone into Mackenzie’s hand. “Here,” he said quietly. “Speed dial number two and tell Alec to get his ass here five minutes ago.”

She flipped open the phone.

Jackson only vaguely heard her speaking as he opened the door and walked in, surveying his living room. It looked the same as it had when they’d left that morning. He closed his eyes and focused, slowly turning toward the sofa. Mackenzie’s bag lay at one end, right where she’d left it, but Jackson could feel that it had been searched, rifled through. Violated.

Mackenzie stepped up behind him and laid a hand on his arm. “Alec says he’s on his way.” Her fingers trembled where they rested on his arm, the nervous energy back and worse than before.

“Check your bag.” His gaze darted around the room. “See if anything is missing.”

She frowned in confusion, but obediently opened her bag. Her frown deepened as she sorted through her belongings. “A shirt’s missing.” She glanced up. “One of the ones I sleep in. Who would steal a tank top when there’s a few hundred dollars in cash sitting right next to it?”

“Someone who isn’t after money.” He walked into the hallway and pulled his lockbox off the top shelf of his closet. He opened it quickly, removed the Beretta he kept there and performed a cursory check of its mechanisms.

“What’s going on?” Mackenzie’s voice was frightened.

He gave her a serious look. He didn’t want to scare her even more, but she deserved to know the truth about her own situation. “Whoever broke in is powerful. Insanely powerful. And that means that Marcus Foster has some terrifying connections.”