by Moira Rogers
Mackenzie laughed and shook her head. “I’ll go back to South Dakota, but only when you’re healthy enough to go with me. Maybe you can use your investigative skills to help me if my scummy landlord has taken all my stuff because I missed paying rent. Though the only things I really want are my wardrobe and my CD collection and a few pictures.”
Relief made him weak. “If we can’t get it back, we’ll replace it all.” He wrapped a lock of her hair around his fingers and winked. “You’ll have to meet Mama.”
“Oh Jesus.” She dropped her forehead to his, and her hair fell around them in a curtain that smelled faintly of the herbs he’d used to cast the spell. “This is crazy. I don’t even know your middle name.”
“Sure you do. It’s Jackson.”
Her head popped up and she gave him a wild-eyed look. “So I don’t know your first name? That’s not helping.”
“It’s Andrew,” he told her softly. “Andrew Jackson Holt.” He waited for it to sink in before flashing her a sheepish smile. “Mama’s a Southern belle, darlin’. A real Georgia peach.”
“I guess so.” Her smile returned. “I suppose I’ll have to meet her, since I’m not planning on letting her son out of my sight again for a couple months.”
“Good.” After the last few days, holing up in his apartment with takeout menus and rented DVDs sounded like heaven. “It isn’t going to be easy.”
“What isn’t?”
“Life with me.” He shifted uncomfortably and kissed her again. “I wish I could say the last week of my life has been a unique experience, but sometimes things get dangerous.”
She studied him in silence long enough to make him nervous. Then her teeth caught her lower lip, and she tilted her head. “Guess it’s a good thing your new girlfriend has super powers.”
Jackson laughed, but his amusement faded as he remembered Charles’s words. “We need to talk to Marcus. Talbot said something about there being another kid like you two. A boy.”
“I think I heard.” She settled on the edge of the bed, one hand still wrapped around his. “But we can worry about it later. When you’re better.”
He relaxed against the thin pillow and scratchy sheets. For the first time since he’d met Mackenzie, he could envision spending his days with her with no life-or-death interruptions or ticking clock. “Maybe Nick’ll give you the next couple of months off.”
Mackenzie lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. “Nick might have to find a new bartender. I’m feeling inspired to reach for my dreams, and my dreams don’t involve mixing drinks. Not professionally, anyway.”
His heart thumped. “She’ll get over it, especially when she sees how happy you are.”
“I will be,” she whispered, and the look in her eyes promised him a future full of passion and love and laughter. “I absolutely will be.”
Epilogue
Jackson shifted his weight and leaned heavily on his cane. “Did you bring it?”
Nick held a brown paper bag aloft. “Exactly what Mahalia told me to get. Forgot the glasses, though.”
He snorted. “I don’t think any of us have cooties, Nicky.”
Mahalia dropped a hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder and squeezed. “Even if we do, the tequila will make short work of ’em.”
Mackenzie covered Mahalia’s hand with her own. In the weeks since Charles’s death, Jackson’s mentor had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, not just as a member of the odd group of supernaturals who’d made her bar a second home, but as an addition to Jackson’s life.
Even so, guilt filled Mackenzie as she stared at the small, cleanly chiseled headstone. The one thing Mahalia had refused to discuss was Steven’s death, and she didn’t know how the older woman would come to terms with the part Mackenzie had played in it. It was my fault. My mistake.
Nick crumpled the bag, shoved it at Alec and twisted the cap from the bottle in her hand. “Who wants to go first?”
Mahalia squinted against the afternoon sunlight. “That would be me.”
Instead of speaking, she held the bottle and stared at the grave in silence. Finally, she smiled faintly. “Damn near thirty years, wasn’t it? Rest well, Steven.” With that, she tilted back the bottle and gulped down several swallows. She coughed as she shoved it at Mackenzie. “I didn’t remember that stuff being so vile.”
Mackenzie cradled the bottle between her hands and tried to speak around the lump in her throat. “I wish I’d had more time—” Her eyes burned and she squeezed them shut. “Thank you.” She tried not to choke on the expensive liquor as it burned its way down her throat.
Jackson accepted the tequila with a lopsided grin. “You did it, Steven. You stopped it.” He drank and waved the bottle at Nick.
She sipped in silence and held it out to Alec, who shook his head. “Someone’s got to drive you lushes back home.”
Mackenzie slipped her arm around Jackson’s waist, silently urging him to lean on her. “Jackson needs to get back to the car soon. He shouldn’t be walking so much on his leg.”
“Don’t fuss,” he whispered against the top of her head.
Mahalia opened her bag and pulled out a worn, leather-bound book. “This was in Steven’s things.” She held it out to Mackenzie. “It’s Zacharias Nelson’s journal. It looks like he followed Charles’s plans pretty closely, but there’s nothing in there about the second boy. He mentioned your mother, though.”
Mackenzie’s hand shook as she reached out. “Did he think—” The words caught in her throat, drowned in a sudden wave of hope. A week ago she might have forced the hope back, but a week ago she hadn’t believed in magic and miracles. “Could she still be alive?”
“Old Zach thought so. Steven talked to me about it before…” She squinted and glanced away. “He never put much stock in it before you showed up, alive and well.”
Mackenzie clutched the book to her chest and tightened her arm around Jackson’s waist. “Then I guess I’ll just have to look.”
He hummed his agreement. “Good thing you’re dating a private investigator.”
She shushed him with a soft noise and met Mahalia’s gaze again. “I still don’t feel right about the will. Are you sure you won’t reconsider the arrangements?”
“Steven left me everything I wanted, honey,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “He wanted you to have the rest of his estate. So you could make a life for yourself.”
He’d left her a small fortune, enough to be self-sufficient while she found her feet. Enough to start her own dance school if she wanted, and to realize all the dreams that had been so out of reach only a few months ago.
She made sure Jackson was steady enough to stand on his own and reached out to take the bottle of tequila from Nick. The second gulp burned her throat just as much, but at least she could blame her tears on the alcohol as she stepped forward and upended the bottle. Amber liquid splashed onto the grave, and she cleared her throat as she righted the bottle. “Rest well,” she whispered, echoing Mahalia’s words.
Not ready to leave the world of Southern Arcana? The story continues with Derek and Nicole in book two, Crossroads.
The Southern Arcana Series
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Are you interested in more tales of forbidden love, magical battles, and spell casters and shapeshifters fighting corruption in their hidden world? There are plenty of adventures left to enjoy…
Crux: A woman’s discovery of her supernatural heritage plunges her into the midst of a new and terrifying world, one where her past defines her destiny and falling in love with the wrong man—like the spell-slinging investigator who sets her heart racing—could be her downfall.
Crossroads: Duty and desire s
tand on opposite sides of the fine line a shapeshifter princess must walk. Falling in love is dangerous enough. Falling in love with a man who was turned into a wolf instead of born as one means risking everything—her family, her heart…and possibly his life.
Deadlock: A human daughter isn’t of much value to a shapeshifter family unless magic can wake her inner wolf. But playing with powerful spells is dangerous. The only man who can help her is the most powerful wolf in New Orleans—and her family’s enemy.
Cipher: The psychic gift of empathy can be a blessing or a curse. For one girl, it’s a deadly weapon. She killed once to protect the man she loves. Now he’s a lethal alpha wolf ready to do anything to protect her. But the greatest danger they pose could be to each other.
Impulse: It’s hard to be a rare submissive shifter in a town full of over-protective alphas. Especially for a woman desperate to claim her own independence. Avoiding dominant wolves is the easy answer, but the only man who makes her feel strong is one of the most powerful wolves in the Southeast—a man whose family would kill to protect their legacy.
Enigma: Two bounty hunters. One mystery. On the clock, they’re the perfect supernatural-crime-solving team. After hours, she’s ready to rock his world. But he won’t settle for just her body. Daring to risk her heart might be the first fight she loses, and the stakes have never been higher. Because he’ll sacrifice anything for her. Even his life.
Turn the page for an excerpt from Crossroads, book two in the Southern Arcana series…
He’s the last man she should ever want. She’s the last woman he can ever have.
Crossroads
© 2010 Moira Rogers
Southern Arcana, Book 2
Coming from a family with psychic gifts, Derek Gabriel was aware of but separate from the dangers of the supernatural world, until a rogue wolf shifter stripped away his humanity. The change he barely survived didn’t drive him insane, but the cultural bias against him as an inferior transformed wolf might. And it doesn’t help that he’s fallen for the daughter of the most powerful wolf in the country.
Almost from the moment she was born, Nicole Peyton started planning her escape from the strict confines of elite shapeshifter society, an old-fashioned world where women are valued only for their bloodlines and bank accounts. In New Orleans she has a bar she loves, friends in decidedly low places, and a smoldering sensual tension with an incredibly attractive and deliciously unsuitable man.
Their forbidden longing erupts into unbridled need—until Nick’s sister burns into town with a strike team hard on her heels. Saving her means Nick has to play by the Conclave’s rules…and give up the man she is growing to love.
Unless Derek does something completely crazy—issue a challenge that could shake the foundations of their world.
Warning: This book contains forbidden lust, strip poker, instinct-driven sex in odd places, devious shapeshifters, and love and loss in a world of paranormal politics and supernatural schemes.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Crossroads:
Color flamed high in her cheeks as she growled and covered the space between them with quick steps. “I’m angry. I’m angry because it’s easier.”
He reached out and caught her shoulders in a gentle grip. “Easier than what?”
She looked up at him and laughed almost hysterically. “Easier than completely and utterly losing my shit.”
“Oh, Nicky.” She felt so tiny as he slid his arms around her, delicate and fragile. Even knowing that seeming weakness was deceptive, every urge in his body clamored to find someplace safe to hide her away from the world and the misery in it.
But it was her world. He didn’t know the first damn thing about protecting her from it.
Her teeth scraped his arm through his sleeve, and she stumbled out of the circle of his arms. “I’m sorry. I just—I’m losing it.” Her eyes had gone wild, and she dragged her shirt over her head as she kicked off her sandals.
Too late he realized what the power gathering around her meant. “Are you going to run?”
“I have to, Derek.” Her skirt billowed to the ground, and she tore at her underwear. “Come with me. Please.”
“Of course.” His instincts wouldn’t let him stay there while she ran off by herself. Derek tugged his T-shirt over his head, anticipation prickling along his skin. The heat that preceded a change stole through him, something hot and heavy and tinged with a lust fueled by Nick’s naked body.
Her wolf must have been close the surface, because she’d barely hit the ground when the air around her shimmered and then pulsed with energy that washed over him in a hot wave. She stood before him, a small gray wolf who shook and pawed impatiently at the grass under them. Derek yanked at his belt and kicked off his boots, itching with the need to join her.
The change was usually easy, but he’d never done it in front of Nick before. He was far too aware of his body’s reaction, of the fact that he was hard and aroused and shaking under the force of the magic. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a breath and reached for that flickering bit of power inside him, the animal waiting just below the surface.
It felt like magic because it was. Pleasure pounded through him and his skin tingled, and he crouched down and gave in to it. The most natural feeling in the world, because now he was free…
Instinct lifted his face, and the wolf howled pleasure at being let loose. When his exultant howl faded, he found Nick watching him. After a moment, she yipped and took off toward the woods.
Her scent enflamed him. Her challenge entranced him. Human concerns bled away as he launched himself after her, wanting nothing more in the world than to run at her side.
Nick’s muscles burned. She had to focus on breathing, on drawing in one gulp of muggy night air after another. That was exactly what she wanted, to occupy her mind with something other than the fact that, one way or another, her sister might die.
Even if she hadn’t heard him, she would have sensed Derek behind her, a warm zing of magic that dovetailed perfectly with her own. He felt solid, right, with his trampling steps echoing hers.
She knew he’d follow her until exhaustion claimed him, if it didn’t take her first. But it was too hot to run for long, and Nick stumbled over a fallen log and tumbled to the ground under an ancient oak tree.
Letting go of the wolf was easier with fatigue quelling her nervousness. Twigs snapped under hands and feet instead of paws, and she collapsed onto a bed of moss, her chest heaving.
Fire. If it had only been the pull of exertion, she could have ignored it. But the change burned through her and scraped her nerve endings into a vicious flurry of arousal. “Derek,” she rasped.
It took him longer to regain human form, but soon enough he crouched at her feet, his muscular chest straining under his panting breaths. He looked massive in the moonlight filtering through the trees, a hulking giant of tanned skin stretched over hard muscles. When he lifted his head, she caught a glimpse of eyes still glinting yellow.
His gaze caught hers and drifted down her body, the stare so blatantly sexual it stole her breath. One hand dropped to her ankle, and his large fingers encircled it easily. “Tell me to stop.”
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. “No.”
Derek dragged her ankles apart and dropped to his knees between her legs. He tickled his fingers up her calves as he jerked his gaze to hers again. “Put your hands over your head.”
Sheer primal instinct drove her to obey. She licked her lips and exhaled a shuddering breath. “I need you.”
“Not as much as I need you.” His thumb traced along the inside of her knee, a small teasing caress that vanished when he moved his hands to the ground on either side of her hips. He loomed over her, his wide shoulders blocking out the light filtering through the trees.
His expression was wild. Feral. His gaze locked with hers, and he shuddered. “Do you trust m
e?”
“Yes.” The answer would have been the same even if she hadn’t been aching to feel his skin against hers, even if they hadn’t spent the last few days learning about each other. “With my life.”
A rumbling noise of approval started deep in his chest and escaped his lips as he lowered them to her breast. His tongue circled the tip in a teasing flick, and he drew her nipple into his mouth with another low noise.
Nick tried to stifle the cry that accompanied the sharp rush of pleasure, but it rolled out of her between clenched teeth. Her back arched off the ground, toward his mouth, and she barely remembered not to move her hands.
She felt the scrape of teeth, then the heat of his mouth disappeared. A low, masculine laugh rose as he nuzzled her stomach and dropped tiny kisses on her damp skin. “I can smell how hot you are for me.”
Something witty should have popped to mind, the perfect rejoinder to his soft, sexy words. “I want you so bad it hurts. I always have.”
He dragged his tongue up the center of her chest before veering off to nip at her shoulder. “And now you have me.”
Do I? The words hung in her throat as the throbbing need in her body grew worse. Her skin flamed wherever he touched her, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. “Derek, please.” Her fingers curled into the mossy earth above her head. “Let me have you.”
His teeth closed on her neck, hard and possessive, and he groaned against her skin and shifted his weight above her. One hand skated over her hip and slipped between her legs, and his fingers stroked through slick folds. He lifted his head and watched her, his face tight. “I want to see you come,” he growled a moment before his fingers centered on her clit.
She thrust her hips up with a whimper. He touched her as if he’d been doing it forever, as if he knew every inch of her already. Desire took over, and she felt him watching as she bit her lip and arched her head back. “Don’t stop.”
He did, but only long enough for his thumb to replace his fingers. Then his fingers shifted lower, easing into her as he groaned. “God damn it, Nicky. Come. Come so I can be inside you.”
