Crux

Chapter 19

At first Mackenzie harbored hope that Marcus would get over his anger and talk to her again. She even sought him out the morning after their fight, desperate to find a way to repair the damage she’d done. Marcus had been the closest thing to an ally she’d had, someone who at least wanted to treat her well.

Now he avoided her when he could, and was formally and coolly polite to her when she cornered him. After two days of it, she gave up and retreated to her room, growing more and more desperate about her situation.

In the middle of that second night she even considered giving in, making the best of a bad situation and trying to find what peace she could. Marcus had proven himself to be an entertaining and thoughtful companion when he wanted to be, and Charles obviously had enough money to support them both in anything they wanted to do. She’d live a comfortable life, for as long as she was willing.

And that was the catch. If Charles ever developed the slightest suspicion she might not be, it would be over. He’d pay someone to wipe away her free will, and that would be it. Oh, she’d go on living in theory. Something that resembled her would walk and talk and have as many babies as they wanted. But it wouldn’t be her.

Safety and comfort were nothing but an illusion. Charles’s home was the proverbial golden cage, and she couldn’t stay.

The only problem is…how do I get out?

She hadn’t been outside since the first day, when Marcus had taken her running in the woods. She hadn’t tried, either, but Mackenzie had a feeling it couldn’t be as simple as walking to the door and opening it.

Of course, if it was that simple, she’d feel stupid for sitting around masterminding wild schemes for escape. She’d feel equally stupid if she worked out an escape plan only to find she couldn’t get out the door at all.

Reconnaissance. They called it that in the movies. Mackenzie was starting to wish she’d watched more action flicks and fewer Sandra Bullock movies.

Common sense told her it would be easier to make excuses if she didn’t seem to be trying to escape. She waited until after dinner before wandering by one of the side doors and stopping to peer out the window at the woods beyond. Even though she hadn’t been outside, she’d been practicing every night until she was sure she could shift forms easily. If she could get to the edge of the woods—

Trying to act casual, she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal of the old-fashioned doorknob. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest with excitement when the knob turned easily under her hand, and the door pushed open. She took a deep breath and bolted.

Or tried to bolt. She hit the empty space of the doorframe and stopped. It was like falling face first onto a feather mattress—not painful, but she couldn’t move forward.

Confused, she pulled back and tried again, this time leading with her shoulder. Her shoulder struck the barrier, and she felt the shock through her body as she jerked to a stop. There was nothing there. The breeze from outside blew against her face, and she could smell the freshly cut grass, hear the birds in the trees. Freedom was so close she could taste it.

She just couldn’t get to it.

“That’s some crazy shit right there, isn’t it?” She whirled to find Eddie standing across the foyer, a bottle of beer dangling loosely from his fingers. Surprisingly, he wasn’t laughing at her.

Mackenzie opened her mouth to deliver the excuse she’d carefully crafted. I just wanted to go for a run, I just wanted a walk, I just—

But Eddie obviously didn’t care. She moved away from the open door and slumped wearily against the wall. “Crazy shit,” she agreed.

“The old man has these things we have to carry so we can leave.” He took a swig of beer and shook his head. “He keeps them locked away until he needs to send us out somewhere. Hope the fucking place doesn’t burn down.”

Eddie wasn’t just drinking. He was drunk. “So everyone’s trapped here?”

He scratched his head, barely stirring his almost militarily short brown hair. “Everyone except the boss. Though I kind of always got the feeling the barriers would drop if the bastard died.”

The only thing that seemed less likely than escaping was surviving a direct confrontation with Charles. Mackenzie closed her eyes and fought her desire to sink to the floor. “Why do you do it?” she asked in a low voice. “Why do you fight for him? Kill for him? Why do you stay trapped in this house?”

When Eddie answered, he was closer. She opened her eyes to find him sitting at the bottom of the staircase. “There’s good money in it. Besides,” he added with a bit of a sneer, “maybe if there are more cougars, you can give the wolves a run for their money. Damn sons of bitches run everything.”

“I thought you were a wolf.”

He rubbed his thumb absently over the bottle. “Not to hear them tell it.” He drained the rest of the bottle and gave her a flat look. “I was attacked. Changed. I used to be human, and now I’m nothing but a mutt.” For a moment he looked vulnerable, hurt. Then he just looked like he wished he had another beer.

Mackenzie sank to the floor, pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Isn’t there a better way to change things? If I have these…magical kids, what are they supposed to do? Run around ruining people’s lives, the way yours was ruined?”

Eddie shrugged. “It wouldn’t have to be that way, necessarily. Some people want to do it. Change, I mean.”

“So you’re not going to help me.” It wasn’t quite a question.

“I might be a simple idiot, but I don’t have a death wish.” He snorted. “Even if I wanted to help you, trying would just get us both killed.” His hazel eyes softened. “Look, would it be so bad? I mean, you’d be rich as fuck, and you’d have Marcus. It’s a hell of a lot more than most people get.”

If she hadn’t known better, she could have sworn Eddie was jealous of her.

Why is that so crazy? Lots of people wanted to be rich, and Marcus was attractive, if you appreciated tall, dark and handsome men. I guess there’s no reason Eddie can’t.

The brief glimpse of humanity didn’t change the fact that he’d killed people to get to her. She pushed down sympathy and rose to her feet again. “I’m not interested in being someone’s pet.”

“Suit yourself.” Eddie shrugged and stood, as well. “But the old bastard always gets what he wants, Mackenzie. One way or another.”

“So he told me.” The smile she gave him felt sick. “I guess I won’t have to worry about it, though. If he gets mad he’s just going to wipe my personality. I won’t even notice I’m being raped. Should make it easier for Marcus to get the job done.”

He definitely looked sick. “Crazy shit.” He swayed and started in the direction of the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be raiding the liquor cabinet.”

“Have fun with that,” she snapped, slumping against the barrier in the open door again. It was impenetrable as ever, and she fought the urge to cry in frustration.

So much for Plan A.

Mackenzie dragged in a breath and closed the door with growing desperation. Plan A was a bust, but she’d figured it might be. Now wasn’t the time to panic. She’d go upstairs to her room, sit down and come up with a Plan B.

At the rate things were going, maybe C, D and E, as well.

Hours later, Mackenzie flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, tears of hopelessness threatening again. Every plan she could think of involved getting out of the house. If Eddie had been telling the truth, that meant getting her hands on whatever item it was that let people come and go at will.

Something. Somet hing. It was hardly the easiest description to go on. It could have been anything, from a mystical pendant to an old copy of the Sunday Times. Even if she managed to figure out what it was, she’d have to find out where Charles kept them and determine a way to get around his protections.

That seemed as likely as surviving a face-to-face showdown with him.

Mackenzie sighed and covered her face with her hands. Time was running out, and all she had to show for it was a rising sense of panic.

Someone knocked on the door, quick and urgent, and she heard the sound of shuffling feet in the hallway. “Mackenzie, open the door.”

Marcus. She recognized his voice easily enough but, more disturbing, she recognized his scent, even through the door. She rolled off the bed and padded across the room to open the door.

For the first time since she’d met him, he looked disheveled, almost haggard. “How serious are you about wanting to get out of here?” he asked without preamble.

Her heart leapt. It could be a trap. But she didn’t know how things could get worse at this point. And what would they have to gain by it? Charles already knew she didn’t want to be here.

“I’m serious. Really, really serious.”

He shoved something into her hand. “Get your shoes. We’ve got to go now.”

It was a small wooden circle of smooth, polished wood, something dark that might have been mahogany. A hole drilled through the top had a thin piece of leather threaded through it, long enough that it would be easy to slip over her head and wear beneath her shirt.

She’d expected something mystical looking, like an impressive gold medallion with ancient runes. But what the hunk of wood lacked in looks, it made up for in power. Even holding it made her palm tingle.

Marcus made an impatient noise and she started. Without a word she slipped it over her head and tucked the wooden disc beneath her shirt. It warmed against her skin, but the tingling feeling faded after a few seconds. By the time she found her shoes, she hardly noticed it.

She pulled them on in silence and looked at Marcus. “Okay.”

He laid his hands on her shoulders. “If Da—if Charles finds us, I don’t know what he’ll do, but it might be bad. Are you prepared for that?”

Mackenzie swallowed. “He told me that he’s going to have a psychic come in and make me agree. Wipe my personality and tell you I had a change of heart. I’ll risk just about anything to avoid that.”

“Me too.” One hand fell away from her, and the other slid down her arm and wrapped around her icy fingers. “Come on. We’ll have to shift and run for it, but I have more clothes and things waiting for us at the property line.”

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Marcus.”

“Shh,” he hissed as they headed out of her room and toward the stairs. “Thank me later.”

They descended the staircase quietly, without incident, and she was on the last step when Marcus went rigid. She smelled it a heartbeat later—man, what she’d come to recognize as wolf, and expensive whiskey.

“Eddie.” Marcus’s voice was tense.

He lounged in the doorway, much as he had earlier, peering at them through bleary eyes. “Well, well.”

Her mouth went dry. She tightened her fingers around Marcus’s, unsure of what to do. “Hello, Eddie.”

The big man didn’t say anything at first, just raised the nearly empty bottle in his hand. It stopped short of his mouth, and he heaved a rough sigh, his eyes on Marcus. “Go on. Run.”

“Eddie—” She couldn’t see Marcus’s face, but he sounded apologetic. Almost guilty.

“For fuck’s sake, Marc, get out of here.” Eddie motioned for the door, and his voice dropped to a raw whisper. “Go.”

When Marcus didn’t move, Mackenzie stepped off the staircase and yanked on his hand. Her eyes found Eddie’s, and the pained look of loss and misery in his eyes tugged at her. “Thank you.”

He turned away.

Marcus finally pulled her toward the door, and they slipped through the invisible barrier and out into the night. He led her away from the house at a brisk walk and around to a row of hedges. “Take off everything but the talisman. You’ll need it.” He kicked out of his shoes and started removing his clothes.

She followed suit, stripping off the borrowed clothing as quickly as she could. The night breeze was cool enough to make her shiver as she stood in front of Marcus, naked except for the talisman that hung between her breasts.

She ran her fingers over it lightly. “What will happen to it when I shift? It’s not gonna fall off, is it?”

“You shift first. I’ll adjust it and make sure it won’t. I know how much to tighten mine, but I’m not sure about you.”

“Okay.” She shivered again, more from nerves than the chill. She closed her eyes and concentrated on finding that inner spark of magic and letting it flow through her.

Her hours of practice made it easy. A few heartbeats and she opened her eyes to a very different world. Sights and sounds and scents assaulted her at first, but she was already growing used to the confused jumble. Marcus smelled like safety, and her instincts moved her across the space separating them. She bumped her head into his leg, terrified and needing the contact even if it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it would be when he had shifted as well.

He knelt before her. The leather cord had two slip knots, each end tied around it, and he tugged them apart until he could barely slide two fingers between the cord and the heavy weight of her fur. “There. Follow me, but we have to be quick. I won’t stop unless you do, not until we get past the last ward.”

She acknowledged his words by nudging his hand with her head and backing away so he could shift as well. He did, his scent and form changing until he stood before her on four legs. He uttered a deep, purring growl, turned and ran.

It wasn’t so different from her dreams, racing across the side yard and into the dark woods, except for the fear pounding through her veins. In her dreams, the danger had been vague, nebulous. Here it was real. Known.

She ran, as fast as she could, until her lungs and muscles burned. She couldn’t stop, though, had to keep pace with Marcus. Just when she thought she could go no farther, he stopped, panting.

Then Marcus was human again, kneeling on the ground by a large hollow log. “Jesus Christ.” He clutched at his side and grimaced as he dragged a black bag from the log.

Mackenzie was too exhausted to shift immediately. She collapsed to the ground and panted for breath, wondering faintly if she’d even be able to change back at all.

It took several minutes for her to find the energy to reach inside and resume her human form. She stretched out on her side on the forest floor, pine needles and branches poking uncomfortably against her skin. The cold ground leached the heat from her body, but she hurt too much to move.

Marcus had already dressed in a pair of jeans when he returned to her side. “Get up, Mackenzie. You’ve got to get into some clothes and get to the car.” He dragged a black T-shirt over his head and helped her sit. “Come on.”

She had no idea how she summoned the strength, but somehow she got the button-up shirt and sweatpants on. The sneakers he’d brought for her were too big, but she put them on her bare feet. “How far to the car?” She rose on shaky legs.

She swayed, and he pulled her into his arms. “Just over this rise here—” He stumbled but regained his footing. “Okay. I’m okay. Let’s go.”

Marcus carried her to a dark sedan parked at the edge of the woods, out of sight of the road below, and set her next to the passenger door. The car alarm blipped, the locks disengaged, and he jogged to the other side. They both scrambled into the car, and Mackenzie tugged at her tangled seatbelt with a low curse. “Where are you planning to go?”

“I was hoping you’d have some ideas.” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred to life. “Boston, probably. At first.”

She had to call Jackson before she did anything else. “There’s some people I can call, I think. The ones who were helping me. If you have a cell phone, maybe I can call information…”

“There’s a disposable one in the glove compartment.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Just in case he decides to try technology instead of magic to find us. I doubt it, but I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances.”

Mackenzie found the phone and powered it on before she realized she had no idea if Jackson’s cell phone would even be listed. She could probably find a number for his office, though, or maybe someone at the bar could tell her how to reach Nick.

The tiny clock on the cell phone blinked on, and she groaned. “Jesus, I didn’t realize it was three in the morning.”

“I got things settled and ready as fast as I could.” He sounded apologetic. “It took me several days to free up some money and find someone trustworthy to help with the magical things like the clothes.”

She froze with her finger on the keypad. “Our clothes are magical?”

He spared her a quick glance as he flipped on his blinker and turned onto what looked like a main highway. “Had to be, so Charles can’t track us. Well, not as easily.”

“God, I forgot about that.” She shivered and glanced at the phone again. The bars on the left side indicating reception had disappeared. As she watched, one reappeared but vanished. “Reception is crap. How far are we from civilization?”

“Depends on what you consider civilized.” Marcus kept checking the rearview mirror, as if he expected Charles to be hot on their heels. “It shouldn’t be long before you get a better signal. But you can call your friends in the morning, if you want. We should be in Boston in a few hours.”

Jackson would be worried, but Mackenzie was exhausted. It was hard to keep her drooping eyelids open, and sleep called to her. She could spend a few frustrating hours battling a weak signal and waking people while she tried to track someone down. Maybe she should.

Or you could take a nap and call around later when you’re coherent.

She tucked the cell phone back into the glove compartment and curled on her side. “You’re probably as exhausted as I am, but would you mind if I took a nap? I haven’t been sleeping much since Charles told me that stuff about the psychic.”

“Sleep. I’ve got a lot of driving to do and…a lot to think about.”

It was hard to believe he’d been the person she feared most in the world a few short days earlier. The pain in his voice urged her to rest a hand awkwardly on his arm. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I didn’t—I wish it could have been different.”

He tensed under her touch. “Don’t. I did this as much for myself as for you. Maybe more.”

“Still.” She dropped her hand back to her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”