by Moira Rogers
Steven looked at Jackson. “How much does she know?”
“I didn’t want to overload her.” He turned to Mackenzie and took one of her hands, wrapping his much-larger one around it. “Remember when I told you that only the wolves can transform others? Talbot’s trying to change that. That’s why Marcus kept insisting the two of you have to have babies. If you did—if it worked—that baby would be able to…” His voice lowered. “To make others like you. To change people into cougars.”
“Change?” She tightened her fingers around his. “But didn’t you say they do it by attacking people? What is this kid supposed to do? Go around clawing people up?”
He hesitated. “Biting, I guess. I’m not sure how it happens, but yeah. Attacks.”
“Just like the wolves,” Mahalia interjected. “It’s up to you, sweetie. If you think it sounds like a good idea, we’re not going to stand in your way. But Jackson led us to believe you’re not too fond of the thought of cooperating with their plan.”
“I thought he was crazy.” She closed her eyes. “He just kept telling me we had a destiny. He tried to tell me about the shapeshifter thing, but I didn’t believe him. God, I don’t know what to believe.”
“Do you want to see it?” It was Steven’s voice, quiet and steady. “Do you want to see me change?”
She didn’t. She wanted to hide her head under a pillow and go back to a world where everything made sense and no one thought her destiny was to have magical babies. But that world wasn’t there anymore. What’s more, she liked the people she’d met in the new world—Nick and the regulars at the bar, and even Jackson’s standoffish partner.
And Jackson. Her fingers tightened around his again, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with concern. “All right. I want to see it.”
They ended up in the back yard by the swimming pool, surrounded by a high privacy fence. Steven had already stripped off his shirt, showing off a body that was in impressive shape for a man who claimed to be over fifty.
He looked up as he pulled off his shoes and socks. “It’s not like the movies and stories.” He folded his socks neatly and put them in his shoes. “Unless you’re wearing something very tight, changing forms is not going to produce dramatically ripped clothing. More likely, you’ll just look absurd while you wiggle out of it. A cougar stuck in a pair of boxer shorts isn’t a very intimidating sight.”
She tried not to picture it, but the mental image formed anyway. She found herself choking back a laugh, and Steven flashed her a smile as he reached for his belt. “I normally wouldn’t strip naked in front of a group of people to change, since I do retain the slightest hint of modesty, but I think it’s important you see the transformation itself.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he addressed Jackson. “Whether you stay to watch is up to you.”
Before he could answer, Mahalia let out a low whistle. “Show off.” The words were softened by the admiration in her eyes and voice.
Jackson groaned like a kid watching his parents kiss. “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Mackenzie had to stifle another laugh as she caught Steven winking at Mahalia, and the emotional undercurrents she’d sensed between them at dinner made more sense.
She did her best to keep her eyes on Steven’s face as he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the ground, but she couldn’t help sneaking a glance at his naked form as he stepped back again.
He was in really good shape for a guy over fifty. Let’s hope that’s a universal shapeshifter benefit.
Steven cleared his throat, and she blushed when she realized he’d caught her wandering attention. He nodded once when she met his eyes again. “Here we go.”
She’d braced herself for a horrible transformation with snapping bones, rending flesh and pained noises. Instead she saw a brief shimmer, almost as if her vision had blurred, and Steven was gone.
A large cat stood on the grass, watching them with obvious intelligence. His head came up to her waist, and he paced forward with an easy grace that did nothing to hide the predatory danger in his stride.
Mackenzie crouched and put herself on eye level with him as she reached out a shaking hand to touch the side of his head. His fur was soft and the same reddish-blonde of Steven’s hair and beard. He remained still under her careful touch, not moving even when she stood again and backed away. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“That about covers it,” Jackson said in a low voice. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
Mahalia appeared at Mackenzie’s elbow. “Are you going to be okay?” She sounded nonchalant, as if people turned into animals in her back yard every day.
Mackenzie glanced at the woman next to her and tried to smile. “I’m not sure. I think I need some time to process it all, honestly. It’s a lot.”
“You said it, honey.” She rubbed a comforting hand over the middle of Mackenzie’s back. “I’m going to get the pie out of the icebox and start some coffee.”
“That sounds great, May.” Mackenzie looked up at Jackson’s words and found him watching her carefully. “Just let me know if you feel like you’re going to freak out or throw up, okay?”
The idea of freaking out was appealing, but it wasn’t the best use of her time. Instead she rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I think I’ll make it.”
“Good.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “Wouldn’t want Steven to think seeing him naked is that traumatic.”
“I heard that.” Steven’s voice drifted from behind her, and she hid her smile against Jackson’s shirt. “I’m going inside. You two take your time.”
She felt the chuckle rumble up in Jackson’s chest. “Don’t feel too bad for him. The bastard knows he has no business looking as good as he does. Damn shapeshifters, making the rest of us look bad.”
Mackenzie felt her smile grow as she slid her arms around his waist. “I don’t think you need to worry about looking bad.” She trailed her fingers absently up his back, savoring the strength and warmth she felt even through his shirt. Simply touching him was soothing in a way it shouldn’t have been, a way that had nothing to do with the sexual tension that had sparked between them the first moment they’d met.
“Yeah, tell me that in twenty years, when you still look thirty. I’ll be pushing fifty and looking every inch of it, unlike our friend, Steven, there.”
“Oh, quit whining.” She made a face at him. “Fifty-year-old men bag thirty-year-old women all the damn time.”
“Amen.” He gave her a warm grin. “Come on. Let’s go get some pie. We have more stuff to talk about.”
Two hours later, Mackenzie soaked in the bathtub as she mulled over everything Steven and Mahalia had patiently explained. Listening to convoluted descriptions of magical spells over pie and coffee was so surreal she’d felt the urge to pinch herself once or twice to see if she was dreaming. In some ways, she almost wished she had been.
Jackson had kept the details of their trip from New Orleans blessedly vague, saving her the embarrassment of having them know how close she’d come to killing herself just to get into his pants. She’d made it through their discussion of the deteriorating spell, and how Mahalia and Jackson had managed to strengthen it before she held up both hands and begged for a break.
It was too much to process all at once. She doubted she’d be able to work her way through it in a month, much less several hours. Thankfully, Mahalia had silenced Steven with a pointed look when he seemed about to insist they finish their conversation.
Half an hour of quiet reflection in the bath had led to one conclusion: she had to stop thinking about the entire situation or she was going to end up as crazy as she’d accused Jackson of being to begin with.
Luckily, he’s an excellent distraction. She rose and wrapped a soft, oversized towel around her body. She had to use a second towel to wipe fog from the bathroom mirror, but she smiled at her reflection as she picked up a comb and worked it through her hair.
Yes, Jackson would be an excellent distraction
. Maybe once they figured out how to save her from the power-mad shapeshifter with dreams of dynastic domination, she could settle down and see if maybe Jackson could be more than a distraction. If New Orleans could be more than a pit stop.
Maybe she could have a life again.
Mackenzie was still smiling when she stepped through the bathroom door, her hair in a damp braid and her clothes exchanged for one of the comfortable, expensive silk nightgowns Nick had insisted on adding to their purchases during their afternoon of shopping.
Jackson sat on the end of the bed, his phone to one ear. “No, Nick. It’s not—” He sighed. “It’s fine for now. Just wait and come when Michelle… Yes, she’s right here, and we’re taking excellent care of her. Yeah.” He held out the phone. “Nick wants to talk to you.”
Mackenzie accepted the phone and perched on the bed next to him. “Hey, Nick.”
“Are they breaking your head with all the supernatural crap?” she demanded immediately. “I told Jackson I’ll kick his ass if they’re freaking you out.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “No, they stopped when I begged them to. I have a feeling I’m going to be getting more remedial supernatural lessons tomorrow, though.”
“Christ.” Her boss’s irritation was clear. “Tell them I said to lay off, all right? They’ve had years, even their whole lives, to learn this stuff. You need time.”
“Maybe.” She tugged her braid over her shoulder. “But I don’t think I have time, Nick. Not with some superpowerful lunatic after me.”
“Well, you being crazy, too, isn’t going to help anybody.”
She was about to answer when Jackson snatched the phone back. “Nicky, I love you, but your alpha bitch is showing again. Rein her in, why don’t you?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right back at you.” He closed the phone and grinned. “Luckily, she’s in another state and can’t actually kill me right now.”
Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. “I thought she was coming here to meet her sister.”
“Michelle won’t be able to make it for a few days.” He leaned back on his elbows. “It isn’t easy for her to get away. The Conclave has to approve her involvement in potentially sticky situations like this.”
It was impossible not to let her eyes wander with his lean body stretched out next to her. He was handsome as sin, all right, and exactly the sort of man she’d never been able to resist. She inched higher on the bed and curled on her side with her head propped on one hand. “Nick’s sister can’t travel without permission?”
“Nope. She’s powerful, dangerous. The Conclave maintains complete control over her all the time. She even has a bodyguard who’s… Well, he’s not so much there to protect her as to spy on her and report back.”
That distracted her momentarily from thoughts of kissing Jackson. She studied his face, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “You’re serious, aren’t you? That’s—” Terrifying.
“It’s crazy, I know.” Jackson rolled to his side, his pose mimicking hers, and flashed her a look that was equal parts sympathy and apology. “Supernatural society, on the whole, isn’t any different from the human one you’re used to, Kenzie. There’s bigotry and fear and horrifying realities I generally prefer not to think about too much. It’s not always pretty, but it’s the way things are.”
“Not always pretty” was an understatement. She rolled back and stared at the ceiling as she considered the things she’d learned. “Are there good things? I mean, you’d think having that power would be an advantage, but so far it seems like the only people who aren’t miserable or crazy are the ones who have nothing to do with supernatural society.”
“Well, Alec and I have been able to help a lot of people thanks to our abilities. Nick too. But there are responsibilities, real ones and the ones other people try to lay on us.” He rubbed her arm reassuringly. “I guess it all depends on whether you want to let other people’s expectations define you.”
“I guess.” She caught his hand and twined their fingers together. “I think I’ve had enough deep thoughts on the universe for the night.”
Jackson stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “Good. I’m getting tired of focusing on the negative when, usually, things aren’t really so bad.”
“Things don’t seem so bad right now,” she agreed quietly. “I got great homemade food, a nice long bath, and now I’ve got a handsome gentleman to cuddle next to. My life hasn’t been this nice in a long time.”
“That’s too bad. I think you should get this pretty much all the time.”
Their banter could have gone back and forth for a while, but Mackenzie didn’t have the patience to wait. Not with the memory of his earlier kiss, not with the way his voice made her heart pound. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and there was no reason not to give in. No reason at all.
So she leaned in and kissed him.
Chapter 11
Jackson knew Mackenzie was going to kiss him long before she pressed her lips to his, and there were about a million reasons why he should have stopped her. Not surprisingly, he couldn’t think of a single one.
Her mouth was warm and dry, and it opened slightly as it touched his, the sensation dragging a low groan from his throat. He lifted a hand to her neck, relishing the fact that her skin was just as soft as it looked. Self-control and self-denial were beyond him, and he rolled to bring her body under his.
She hummed in pleasure, and her fingers slid into his hair. She held his mouth to hers as her tongue swept across his lower lip in teasing invitation before retreating again.
He groaned again and deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth, tasting and exploring. It was maddening, and desire built in him with shocking speed as he lowered one hand to her hip and encountered soft silk. If she’d have been wearing this damned scrap of nothing at his apartment, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. He broke the kiss and whispered breathlessly, “I love this gown.”
Her voice sounded just as breathless, and warm with invitation. “I was hoping you would. It’s the only reason I let Nick buy it.”
He gathered the midnight blue silk in his hand and rubbed it against her skin. “How’d you find one the same shade as your eyes?” He nuzzled her neck. “Serendipity?”
“I was due a little good luck.” Her head arched back, giving his lips free rein over the soft skin of her throat. She moaned when his mouth reached the spot where her neck and shoulder met. “God, I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. You are unfairly sexy, Jackson Holt.”
“Quit stealing all my good lines.” He whispered the words in a path over her jaw, all the way back to her mouth. This time, their kiss was hot, insistent. Her response was just as enthusiastic as she arched into him and made soft, needy noises.
Her fingers left his hair and slid down his shoulders and back. The hem of his shirt bunched in her hands, and she urged it up.
Jackson tore his mouth away with a sharp exhalation. He wanted to feel her skin against his, wanted to sink into her, make her scream. “Hang on, Kenzie. We can’t do this.”
“Right,” she panted, looking dazed. “Bad guys. Serious situation. Not the time for hot, hot sex.” She took a slow, deep breath and let it out on a moan. “Damn it.”
He couldn’t drag his gaze away from her mouth. “Damn it,” he echoed in agreement. “I’m going to go…away, and you stay here. Uh, sleep would be good. I’m…going.”
Her lips seized his again in a brief but passionate kiss. “Sleep.” She kissed his chin and his jaw. She found his ear and her breath was warm and tormenting as she whispered, “But when this is over, we are going to have the kind of insanely hot sex that takes hours to finish and days to recover from.”
Going away suddenly didn’t seem nearly so important. “I’m intrigued.” He dragged his thumb over her lower lip. “Tell me more.”
Her tongue snuck out to tease his thumb. “I’m a dancer, remember. You wouldn’t believe some of the ways I
can bend. And I guess I’ve got super stamina or something now too.”
Jackson stifled a groan and bit her ear. “Bendy, with super stamina. Christ, this is sounding too good to wait.”
“The bad guys aren’t breaking down the door yet.” She offered it almost hopefully, her voice delightfully husky. “We could compromise a little…”
Focus, Holt. This is a bad idea… He slid his hand under her nightgown to caress her leg. “Good idea.”
She pulled at the hem of his shirt again. “Off. Take this off—”
Jackson yanked the T-shirt over his head. “You know Steven can hear us, right?”
She froze for a second, her hands hovering an inch away from his chest. Then she groaned and grabbed him, her short nails digging into his shoulders as she dragged him against her. “He can go outside. Or get earplugs.”
“Not sure that’ll help.” He lowered his face to her neck and caught her delicate skin between his teeth. “Are you usually loud?”
She gasped sharply, cupping the back of his head as she arched her neck into his touch. “Depends on how much encouragement I’m getting. You seem good at encouraging.”
“I feel pretty damn motivated right now.” His fingers skated up her thigh again and found the thin, elastic edge of her panties. He fought back a moan and licked the skin he’d bitten. She rewarded him with another breathy moan as her legs inched apart in silent invitation.
Jackson barely hesitated before venturing under the expensive silk to explore the softness of her body. She arched into his touch, and he kissed her neck and skipped back to her lips.
She kissed him with a desperate need, open mouth and low gasps and her tongue teasing its way past his lips to tangle with his. There was nothing shy or hesitant in her kiss, just desire for him and an eagerness that made his hands shake.
Mackenzie tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged him back so she could wiggle out from beneath him. She rose to her knees on the bed, flushed and breathing heavily, and her hands shook as she curled her fingers around the edge of her nightgown and pulled it up. “I want you so much, Jackson.”
