[Southern Arcana 1] Crux (25 page)

Moira Rogers

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.” 272

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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?” www.samhainpublishing.com 273

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“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 274

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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 Tshirt 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.

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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.

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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 www.samhainpublishing.com 277

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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.”

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Jackson rubbed his thumb over the warm surface of his mug and stared out the window over the sink. Dawn was breaking, the sun setting the clouds on fire as it rose above the horizon. It finally broke free of the trees and forced his gaze away.

Nick stood just inside the kitchen, one shoulder against the open doorframe. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know you’re worried.” She shoved her fingers through her hair and braced her hip against the wood.

“Don’t be. It makes me nervous.”

“Can’t help it, Peyton.” Not for the first time, Jackson considered the risk Nick was taking, not only with her own life, but with her sister’s, as well. “Nicky—”

“Knock it off, Holt.” Her words might have been flippant, but her expression was serious, almost scared. “None of that

‘if we don’t make it out of this alive’ shit. I’ll hurt you.”
Moira Rogers

“He’ll snap out of it.” It was Alec’s voice, quiet behind them. “He always does when it’s time to get down to business.”

“He’d better.” Nick glanced at Alec and shot Jackson a stern look. “Mackenzie works for me. I hired her. I took her in. She’s my responsibility. And don’t get me wrong. I like her. I do. But I like my sister more. If Michelle is going to be in danger, you need to get straight, okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jackson said harshly. “Just because I care doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

“No one thinks you are.” Alec crossed the kitchen. “We wouldn’t be going in there with you if we did. But it’s just us, Jackson, when it comes down to it. Everyone else’s priority is going to be Charles. It’s you and me going after your girl, and if you get my ass killed because you’re distracted, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“And if he can’t manage it,” Nick added, “I’ll find someone who can make you
think
he’s haunting you.”

“I get it. My head will be in it, I promise.” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m not afraid of death, but it would be a crying shame if I bought the farm before I had the chance to bag your secretary’s hot cousin.” She grabbed another mug and filled it from the coffee carafe.

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Alec smirked. “Tell us something we don’t know. That’s pretty much the worst-kept secret in New Orleans.” Nick favored them both with a wry look as she added cream and sugar to her mug. “Then help a girl out. I’ve dropped so many hints I’m starting to trip over them.” Jackson pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. The banter felt normal, like everything might turn out all right. “Maybe he’s not interested in a tee-tiny loudmouth,” he offered helpfully.

Oddly, Alec’s reply was more earnest. “Derek likes you too much.” He ignored their startled looks as he poured himself a mug of coffee. “He wasn’t born a shifter, Nicole.

He’s got a lot of odd instincts he didn’t have to deal with before, and he wasn’t ready to start anything that might end up serious.”

Jackson stared at his partner, open-mouthed. He hadn’t known Alec had spent that much time with Derek Gabriel, much less talked about such personal things with him. “When did you become a confidante to lovelorn werewolves everywhere?”

Alec stomped over to the table, glaring. “It was once. Kat was worried, so I promised her I’d help him out. It’s not like guys like him have a lot of people to go to for help.” Nick was suspiciously quiet as she stared into her coffee.

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bright. “Don’t you
dare
get me killed, Jackson Holt. I have things to do when we get home.”

“Let me guess,” Mahalia drawled as she walked in and headed for the refrigerator. “Derek Gabriel?” Jackson raised his mug in salute. “Got it in one.” She clucked her tongue. “You always have had it bad for that boy, Nicole.”

“See?” Alec took a sip of his coffee and grinned. “Worst-kept secret in New Orleans.”

Mahalia smiled at Nick’s flustered look. “Hell, Jacobson.

Who do you think introduced them?”

“You couldn’t have locked them in a closet somewhere and saved the rest of us several years of sexual tension?” Nick choked on a strangled noise, and Mahalia laughed.

“You hush up, Alec. Everyone knows you’re just a soft old romantic at heart. Am I right, Jack?”

“You always are, May.”

Alec rose with his mug. “Fuck you, man. I’m going to go pack my shit. I’ve had about all the touchy-feely crap I can take for a morning.”

This time, the noise that escaped Nick was undoubtedly a laugh. “Be back in time for the group hug, Alec,” she called.

Jackson barely managed to avoid snorting coffee out his nose. “Oh, Christ. Now she’s giddy.”

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Mahalia shook her head. “You’re going to have a hard row to hoe if you set your cap for Derek Gabriel, Nicole. I hope you know that.”