by Moira Rogers
Instincts that had been repressed for a lifetime roused slowly, and Mackenzie knew it had happened. When she opened her eyes, she wouldn’t be looking at the world as a human, but as a cougar.
It should have been terrifying.
It wasn’t.
Marcus knelt next to her. His gaze met hers but he didn’t speak. Instead he underwent the same shimmering transformation Steven had in Mahalia’s backyard. He didn’t approach, just crouched into a sitting position and watched her carefully.
With her mind still human, still her own, Mackenzie thought it would be difficult to physically adjust to the change. She rose to her feet slowly, expecting awkwardness, and was pleasantly surprised to find that her new body felt like the most natural thing in the world. She stretched her legs slowly, feeling the power in her muscles, and turned to look at Charles.
He watched her, his eyes alight with satisfaction. He came a step closer and a snarl rumbled out of her, an instinctive reaction she couldn’t control…and didn’t want to. She braced her hind feet against the grass and crouched, preparing herself to pounce on him.
She didn’t get the chance. Marcus nipped her flank and bumped his shoulder against hers, throwing her off-balance. He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a hiss and a whistle, and Mackenzie was surprised to realize she knew exactly what he meant.
No.
He was warning her away from Charles.
Charles took the question of whether she’d heed the warning away from her when he stepped back inside and closed the door quietly. Deprived of the object of her anger, Mackenzie turned again and studied the back yard from her new perspective.
The neatly kept lawn extended twenty feet behind the house before giving way to a hundred yards of wild meadow that led to the forest beyond. The sudden urge to explore gripped her. She needed to run, like she had in her dreams. She gave Marcus an expectant look.
This time, he made a chuckling sound and bounded across the grass in what seemed like an instant. When he dove through the unkempt grasses of the meadow, Mackenzie followed, forgetting about everything except how good it felt to run.
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson tapped his foot on the carpeted floor of John Peyton’s jet and sighed. They’d already switched planes, and had been assured the chairman and the Seer would be joining them shortly.
Nick sat next to him, the thin wires of a pair of earphones trailing to the MP3 player in her lap. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed oblivious to his fidgeting until her hand shot out with preternatural speed and clamped on his knee. “Jackson, if you don’t tone down the nervous energy, I will be forced to kill you. And I like you.” She cracked open an eye and peered at him. “So don’t make me do it.”
He met her warning with a disgusted groan. “What the hell is taking so long?”
She tugged the wires free and wrapped them around her music player. “Michelle isn’t allowed to leave the house until the last possible moment.”
“The last p…” Jackson gritted his teeth. “Your father and sister should have been waiting on this damned plane so we could leave as soon as we landed.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Preaching to the converted, Jackson. Save it for the Conclave’s complaint box, huh?”
Before he could respond, the small door at the front of the jet opened. The man who came through first was imposing, probably several inches taller than Jackson’s own respectable height and a good deal wider through the shoulders. His eyes flickered over the cabin, taking in everyone and everything inside it, and he stepped to one side of the wide center aisle. He exuded a menacing presence that rivaled Alec on a bad day.
When she came through the door next, Nick’s sister looked almost childlike in comparison. Physically, she and Nick were almost identical, but Michelle was dressed in a pristine white blouse and modest black skirt, with her hair gathered in a perfect knot at the back of her head. Jackson couldn’t imagine Nick being caught dead in anything like it.
Michelle stepped down the aisle, and Jackson got a taste of the carefully controlled power radiating from her as an almost tangible heat. He’d met some powerful people in his day, some of them downright scary, but none had felt this strong. Being within ten feet of Michelle felt like standing too close to a live wire.
It made his skin crawl.
Nick shot out of her seat. “Micky!” She pushed past the tall man, whom Jackson assumed was Michelle’s bodyguard, and threw her arms around her sister.
Michelle’s brilliant smile lit her face. Alec fidgeted uncomfortably as the sisters embraced, but, when Jackson followed Alec’s gaze, he found himself looking past Michelle to the man who had boarded the plane after her.
John Wesley Peyton was taller than Jackson had imagined, and even more intimidating than the bodyguard. He glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in everything in the jet’s cabin, and he smoothed his silvered hair with one hand, a gesture that jarred Jackson, since he’d seen Nick do it hundreds of times.
It was a shocking reminder that, though she lived like a bohemian in the French Quarter, Nick had grown up in this world of private jets and business executives built like professional wrestlers. He watched as she stepped past Michelle to hug her father. She barely reached his shoulder and was dwarfed by his bulk. Peyton may have been trying to move the wolves away from using physical challenges to settle disagreements, but it obviously wasn’t because he couldn’t win them. The man was huge.
John released Nick and smiled at Alec. “Alexander. Nice to see you again.”
“John.” Alec’s voice had lost its usual lazy, aggressive edge. Though Jackson wouldn’t have called his partner’s demeanor submissive, it was close to wary. Alec faced the world with a domineering confidence that set most people’s teeth on edge, and seeing him defer to someone felt surreal.
The Alpha’s gaze fell on Jackson, and the politician’s smile returned. “You must be Holt.” He offered his hand. “I heard your father might come out of retirement to run for one of the Senate seats down in Georgia next year. Is that true?”
Jackson rose and shook his hand firmly. “Not sure if Mama will let him, sir. But he’s thinking about it.”
“Excellent. Have you met Michelle?”
Michelle smiled shyly as she offered her hand. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad there’s someone keeping my sister out of trouble in New Orleans.”
He was barely able to reach out his own hand in return. The power wafting off Michelle was intense, almost overwhelming, and his stomach churned as he fought not to recoil from her. Instead, he grasped her hand and managed a smile. “Nicky usually just finds enough trouble for both of us.”
He felt a brief surge of power before Michelle’s eyes widened, and she pulled her hand away, a guilty flush staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I forgot—” The aura of magic around her disappeared in an instant, which unnerved Jackson more than its presence had. “I’m sorry.” Resigned loneliness clouded her eyes.
He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
Nick touched Jackson’s arm as John disappeared into the cockpit. “Daddy’s going to speak to his pilot and get us underway. Come on, Micky. We’ll sit toward the back. I need to talk to you.”
Michelle followed Nick, with the bodyguard hard on their heels like a gigantic shadow. When they’d walked past, Alec rose and moved into the seat next to Jackson’s. “You okay?”
Jackson tried to speak, but sank to his seat instead. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily as he tried to conquer the waves of nausea roiling through him.
“He’ll be okay.” It was Mahalia’s voice, soft and sure.
Thick paper pressed into his hand. He looked into Mahalia’s sympathetic eyes and down at the airsickness bag she’d given him. “I’m not going to puke, May. I just need a minute.”
&
nbsp; “Shit.” Alec shot them both a concerned look. “Is that gonna happen every time they accidentally bump into each other?”
“No.” Mahalia clucked her tongue. “Poor thing forgot to turn it off before she touched him. But you didn’t want to be rude, did you, Jack?”
He gave her a wan smile. “My mama raised me better than that.”
Alec glanced over his shoulder toward the back of the plane. “It’s pretty jarring. She’s tiny…and packs a hell of a punch.”
“I can’t believe you let a five-foot-nothing girl kick your ass. At least Michelle hit me with magic.”
“She caught me off guard,” his partner protested. “She’s fucking fast, that girl is.”
“Both of you, hush, now.” Mahalia made a face. “I’m not listening to this all the way to New Hampshire.”
Jackson flashed her a crooked grin. “How about halfway?”
John came back through the door from the cockpit. “Everybody strap in. We’ll be in the air soon.”
Jackson saw firsthand what exorbitant amounts of money could accomplish. When the jet touched down in New Hampshire, two cars waited for them on the private airstrip, both black SUVs with tinted windows and stone-faced drivers.
“John’s secured a rental property for us about two hours from where Charles’s wards begin,” Steven told Jackson as they carried their sparse belongings from the jet to the second SUV. Michelle’s bodyguard was already packing the Peytons’ small carry-on bags into the back of the first vehicle, and Michelle and Nick sat inside. “We don’t want to get any closer than that until we’ve got our protections in place.”
“How long is that going to take?” The words were terse, but Jackson couldn’t help it. God knew what Talbot and his crew were putting Mackenzie through. “The sooner the better, and all, Steven.”
Steven held open the door for Mahalia. “A couple days at most. I realize it’s hard to hear, Jackson, but Mackenzie is going to be fine. If Charles thinks there’s any way he can talk her into doing this willingly, he’ll take the time to try.”
He felt his jaw tighten as he gritted his teeth. “And if he can’t?”
“It’s not going to come to that.” Steven’s voice was firm. “It’s not, Jackson. I’m going to take care of him this time, once and for all.”
Mahalia cleared her throat as she settled onto the seat. “This isn’t about you, Steven,” she reminded him gently. “Don’t forget that.”
Jackson climbed into the backseat beside Alec. “Have you gotten in touch with Kat yet about the security installation records?”
“She told me she’d call me back.” Alec closed his phone. “I got the impression she was going to be doing some of the less legal sorts of digging around, since she couldn’t find anything through the normal methods. I called Derek Gabriel too. Told him some nasty stuff was going down and that he should keep an eye on Kat. Last thing we need is someone snatching her to fuck with us.”
“I doubt that was necessary.” Talbot already had what he wanted, and the very fact that he’d not only spared Mahalia but called Steven, as well, told him everything he needed to know about the kind of threat the Seer felt they posed. “I don’t think Talbot is worried enough about us to bother.”
His words made Alec shake his head. “Jesus. Either we’re in serious, serious shit, or he’s gone off the deep end.”
Jackson tried to find the right words to explain the situation to Alec. “Michelle almost made me puke by shaking my hand. Now imagine if she was fifty years older and trying to hurt me.”
“I don’t care how powerful you are,” Alec said stubbornly. “The minute you start thinking you’re invincible is the minute you lose.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” He couldn’t afford to let Charles Talbot intimidate him, not if he wanted to be useful when it came to making sure Mackenzie was safe. “Of course, you’re right.”
“Damn straight. He’s going to make mistakes, and we’ve got the Peytons and their Seer and their private jet. One wrong move and we’ll be ready to take him down.”
“Yeah. We will.”
Mahalia turned and raised an eyebrow as she glanced between them. “Y’all are making me nervous.”
Alec smiled ruefully. “Sorry, Mahalia.”
Jackson leaned forward. “How far is it to the—what? House? Apartment?”
“House.” Steven didn’t look up from the map he studied. “Maybe an hour’s drive. This was the nearest public airstrip to Charles’s estate.”
Jackson tugged a small notebook and pen out of his jacket pocket. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything from me.” He sat back and started sketching out a small grid. Even the simple act of sectioning the paper calmed him.
“Approaches and outcomes?” Alec asked quietly, nodding to the notebook. “Need some help?”
“No.” He continued to turn the simply lined paper into a complex grid. “It won’t do much good, really, until we get some intel. I just have to do something.”
“Yeah.”
Jackson’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he fumbled it out, his eyes drawn to the display. His shoulders slumped as he answered it. “Did you find anything, Kat?”
“No records on legit contractors going out to install security systems,” Kat apologized. “But I figured that the chance it would be an on-the-books thing was pretty slim, so I called Mari. She’s got a friend up in Boston who installs security measures with a magical kick, and she thinks he can find out for sure, one way or another.”
“Mari? I didn’t know she was into security stuff.”
“Yeah. She wants to do that when she graduates. Security systems, I mean. With a magical kick.” Kat spoke nervously. “Am I in danger, Jackson? Alec got Derek pretty riled up. He’s coming to pick me up and he’s not letting me be by myself until you guys get back.”
Jackson made a face at his partner before answering. “No, Kat, you’re not in danger. But you can never be too careful, and with neither of us there, we wanted to make sure someone was keeping an eye on you. Just go with it, okay?”
Kat sighed heavily, her annoyance clear even through the phone. “Fine. But tell Alec I’m kicking his ass when he gets back here. Derek’s probably going to make me go to work with him tomorrow.”
“If you get tired of being cooped up there, have your cousin take you out to one of the construction sites.”
“He won’t do that anymore. He says I’m too friendly to random construction workers, which is totally not true. But I’ve got homework for my grad class anyway, so I’m stuck in his damn office all day.”
Like spending a day staring at Derek’s partner would be a terrible hardship for her. “Yeah, sure. You’ll never recover from the trauma. Tell Callaghan we said hi, and give him a big hug for us too, all right?”
“Oh, shut up.” Kat’s crush on Derek’s partner was only slightly less obvious than Nick’s thing for Derek, but Kat lived under the delusion she’d successfully hidden it from the world at large.
“I’ll give Alec your message. Call us back when you hear from Mari.” He hung up and grinned at the man beside him. “Kat’s going to beat you senseless. I should have told her she’d have to stand in line behind teeny little Nick Peyton.”
Alec just snorted. “Maybe they can start a club.”
“She’ll get over it, especially if she gets to make out with Callaghan tomorrow.” Jackson tapped his pen against his chin and stared at the notebook in front of him. “We’ll need all the official stuff we can get our hands on. Property records, blueprints. Satellite imagery would be a plus.”
“Hmm. Kat pulled the public records, but I’m not sure if she could get blueprints.” He nodded toward the vehicle in front of them. “Peyton can get anything.”
“I’ll call Nick.” Jackson leaned forward and laid a hand on Mahalia’s shoulder. “How about Talbot
’s magical defenses?”
“They’re formidable.” It was Steven who answered, his voice quiet. “Formidable enough that there might not be any other defenses. People who work for him have talismans that allow them to cross the wards.”
Jackson looked at Mahalia. “So it’ll be mostly you and Michelle, but I can help.”
She patted his hand. “We’ll be counting on you, Jack.”
He sat back, sighing as he once again retrieved his phone. “Hopefully, Peyton can come through with the intel.” The chances he couldn’t were slim to none, but Jackson’s monthly quota of optimism had already been exhausted. “We’ll make it. We have to.”
Tired as she was, Mackenzie snapped awake when she heard the quiet click of the door. The soft blankets beneath her were disorienting, especially since the last thing she remembered was running through the woods with Marcus.
Her eyes flew open, and she recognized the room she’d woken up in that afternoon. The door was barely ajar, but she could hear someone breathing on the other side, could even hear a heartbeat if she listened hard enough.
That knowledge made her heart pound. She instinctively scurried back on the bed as the door swung open.
Marcus walked in. “I wondered if you’d be up yet. You were worn out.”
Something inside her relaxed, though she didn’t lower her guard completely as she settled on the bed, dragging the sheet up to cover her body. “I don’t remember how I got here.”
“I brought you in.” He pulled the straight-backed chair from the wall and situated himself in it. “You were barely conscious.”
She could tell he’d showered recently, and that his soap carried a faint trace of sandalwood. An odd feeling washed through her. Something about him had changed, something she couldn’t classify as a scent or sound or even a physical sensation. “You…feel different.”
He tilted his head and watched her, his blue eyes clear. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Everything feels different. Sounds different.” She shivered and pulled the sheet higher, though she felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of clothing. If she could count his heartbeats and almost taste his faint confusion, she could only imagine how much easier it was for him to tell exactly what she felt.