Crux

by Moira Rogers

  He shifted in his chair. “It’s getting late,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Whenever you’re ready, I can pull the couch out. It’s not the most comfortable bed in the world, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

  It was impossible to tear her eyes away from his. “Don’t worry about it,” she heard herself say in a soft, husky whisper. “I can sleep on it like this. Find me a pillow and a blanket, and it’ll be more comfortable than most of the places I’ve slept lately.”

  He looked away and headed for the hallway. “It’s not a bother. I’ll just get everything ready while you’re brushing your teeth. No problem.”

  Mackenzie rose quietly, picked up her bag and slipped past him into the bathroom.

  By the time she returned, he’d pulled out the bed and was busily tucking a sheet around the fold-out mattress. She moved to help him, and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” Her shoulder brushed his bare arm, and he hissed in a sharp breath.

  She felt her own breathing roughen at the hot look in his eyes. If she’d had any doubts about whether he wanted her, they were swept away under the intensity of that gaze.

  Her hand rose, seemingly of its own volition, and she stopped it just before her fingers brushed his skin. “Jackson—”

  He leaned closer, his head bending toward hers, and she licked her lips, anticipating the kiss. Jackson froze, cleared his throat and backed away, retrieving a pillow from the leather chair. “Here. If you need another blanket, there are some in the closet in the hall. Sleep well.”

  Then he turned and walked out of the room.

  She clutched the pillow to her chest, her heart beating far too quickly. The realization that he’d executed a chivalrous retreat brought a hint of a blush to her cheeks as she slid onto the bed and curled under the thin blanket.

  Mackenzie dreamt of wide open fields and running wildly downhill, with the wind in her face and the smell of the forest surrounding her. But when she reached the bottom of the hill and tumbled onto the grass, she wasn’t a cougar. Jackson rolled her over, crushing the flowers beneath them as his lips lowered to hers…

  Even in her sleep, she smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  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 i
nformation, 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 ba
rely 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.”