Part 19 (1/2)

”You have nothing to say. Nothing to explain.” He lifted a saucer of sliced fruit from the table and picked at it. ”I believe that ball is firmly in my court.”

Mackenzie winced. ”But you didn't know.”

His lips twisted in a poor approximation of a smile. ”You don't feel, even slightly, that I should have?”

There was no answer to that. She thought, briefly, of offering him a gentle lie, but in the end she just sighed. ”I don't know, Marcus. How can anyone? The whole thing is just so screwed up.”

”An inarguable fact.”

”How else can I contact people? Someone said Nick's father was someone important. Maybe I could find him?”

”Nick?”

”Nicole Peyton. Her father's the...” She furrowed her brow and tried to recall the conversation she'd had with Jackson. ”The Alpha? The big boss daddy werewolf.”

Marcus's eyes widened. ”John Wesley Peyton, yes. Yes, he is. We could call his office in New York, but we wouldn't get far.”

”s.h.i.+t.” She sighed and rubbed at her temples. ”Okay. I guess I'll keep calling Jackson's office. Their a.s.sistant should show up in a couple hours.”

”Why don't you try to get some sleep?”

Mackenzie struggled to summon a smile for him. ”I think you're the one who needs sleep. You look done in.”

His gaze slid past her. ”There are two beds, and no reason we can't both sleep.”

”Yeah, I just-” She wouldn't be able to sleep again, not without talking to Jackson. She had to tell him she was safe, hear his voice, tell him she'd see him soon. G.o.d. I'm pathetic.

”I get it,” Marcus interrupted. ”Eat something, all right? After that, you can keep making your calls.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She ducked her head and stared at a stack of pancakes to avoid having to meet his eyes. ”Thanks, Marcus. Not just for this. For everything.”

”Don't thank me. Please.” He dropped the saucer back to the table and eyed the gla.s.s doors leading to the balcony. ”I need a minute, okay? I'll be right back.”

She felt helpless. There was nothing to do but watch in silence as he crossed the room and slipped through the gla.s.s door. Mackenzie waited until it slid shut before picking up the telephone again.

She'd called the office so many times in the last hour she'd memorized the number. She dialed it and held up the phone, listening to five rings followed by Kat's chipper, friendly voice. ”You've reached Holt and Jacobson Investigations-”

Mackenzie slammed the phone down and fought a snarl of frustration. Her stomach growled instead, a loud-enough noise to make her start. ”Fine.” She surveyed the vast meal in front of her. ”I'll eat. I'll sit in a hotel room, talk to myself and slowly go crazy. Crazier.”

The pancakes on her plate had no insights to offer. For that reason, she took particular joy in eating them first.

There was something almost anticlimactic about storming Charles's lair.

The process was highly involved, almost tedious, and required them to stop a hundred feet outside each protective barrier while Mich.e.l.le gathered her power and channeled it through the amulets she and Mahalia had prepared with painstaking care.

By the time they reached the last protective ward, Mich.e.l.le looked pale and unsteady. Aaron murmured something to her as she stopped, the words too soft for Jackson to make out. She smiled wanly in return and shook her head, but leaned against him as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

He didn't feel anything, which was the most frightening part. Mich.e.l.le was gathering a ma.s.sive amount of magical energy, but she was expending just as much magic to hide her efforts. If he hadn't seen her do it-twice, no less-he might not have believed it possible.

The fact that the man holding Mackenzie had just as much power-and decades of experience using it-was something he tried not to think about.

The amulet around his wrist turned hot, and Mich.e.l.le gasped. ”I-I think-” She swayed, and Aaron steadied her as Nick stifled a gasp of her own.

He looked at the carved wooden disk, doing his best to ignore the rust-colored smears of Steven's dried blood on it. ”You did it, Mich.e.l.le. They're working.”

”Never doubted it for a minute, honey.” Mahalia laid a hand on Mich.e.l.le's shoulder, her dark red nails a stark contrast to the borrowed T-s.h.i.+rt the Seer wore, and Jackson shuddered. More blood. He was suddenly glad he didn't believe in omens.

Nick stepped forward. She'd dressed Mich.e.l.le in her clothes, and they wore the exact same outfit. It had taken Mich.e.l.le a while to understand why Nick would want to risk someone mistaking them for each other, but she hadn't argued. It would be dangerous for Nick, but none of them would be safe. Now, looking at them was like looking at a mirror reflection, and Jackson could have sworn even the magic surging through Mich.e.l.le was echoed in her sister.

”You going to make it?” she asked softly, rubbing Mich.e.l.le's arm.

Mich.e.l.le opened her eyes, and her lips curled into a self-deprecating smile that Jackson recognized all too well. Mich.e.l.le could have been Nick then, right down to the slightly wry tone in her voice, even if the words were too formal. ”I suppose I've gotten used to being the most intimidating person around. For a second I didn't think it would work.”

”You did good.” Nick surveyed the break in the trees ahead and bit her lip. ”The house is just over that rise.”

Jackson nudged Alec. ”Should we go in separately from the others?”

His partner frowned and cast a look at Steven. ”Is Mich.e.l.le going to have to blow off the front door to get us in?”

Steven hesitated just long enough to make the answer clear. ”Maybe.”

”So we go in together.” Alec grinned at Mich.e.l.le, though it must have taken great effort to hide his discomfort as he patted her arm encouragingly. ”Make a lot of commotion when you knock, Mich.e.l.le. That should get everyone's attention.”

The way her face lit at Alec's acceptance was heartbreaking. ”I don't think I can do it quietly. Jackson and Mahalia had better s.h.i.+eld for all they're worth, though, or the backlash will knock them over.”

Jackson held up both hands. ”Consider me warned.”

Nick whispered something to Aaron and glanced at Jackson. ”We all know what to do.”

Try our best and hope like h.e.l.l it works. ”Yeah.”

Steven and Alec took the lead. Mich.e.l.le fell into step behind them, with Nick pressed tightly to her right side and Aaron towering next to her, one hand hovering over her back. Mahalia slid her hand into Jackson's as they cleared the trees and crested the rise. The house came into view, and she sighed nervously. ”Here goes nothing, Jack.”

They made it to the front door, and the blood pounded in Jackson's ears as he steeled himself against Mich.e.l.le's magic. Still, he thought his head might explode along with the wood, and it took him a moment to orient himself as the group charged through the shattered remains of the front door, guns drawn, spells at the ready.

Alec and Steven jerked to a stop so quickly Mich.e.l.le b.u.mped into Steven and stumbled back into Jackson. He barely caught her as ironic applause filled the room.

A large, curving staircase rose in front of them. Charles stood on the fourth step, surveying them with absolutely no surprise as he brought his hands together one last time and smiled. ”Goodness, Miss Peyton. Was that entirely necessary? You youngsters are so ostentatious.”

The two men who'd attacked them outside the bar flanked Charles, and Jackson's heart stuttered. ”Where's Mackenzie?”

The Seer's icy blue gaze focused on Jackson, and there was nothing left of sanity in his expression. The utter lack of emotion, of anything human, chilled him. Charles acknowledged his reaction with a tiny, wry smile and a nod. ”So. You must be the reason she was so resistant. At first.”

Crazy as a f.u.c.king loon. He glanced at Alec and saw his partner had come to the same conclusion. ”Look, we'd all love to hang around and engage in some banter-”

”She's gone.” The flat, weary words came from the s.h.i.+fter beside Talbot, the one he'd fought in the alley by Nick's bar. ”Marcus took her and left.”