“I know.” What wouldn’t Michelle give to escape the magic she’d lived with since birth? It had denied her any sort of normal life, even the kind Nick herself had managed. “I’m sorry.”
Michelle’s jaw tightened. “Well, I’m not. It’s too late for anyone to accept me, and they’ll never accept any children I have. So I damn well need this power to protect them. If that makes me a freak, so be it.”
“You’re not a freak.” It should have scared her to hear a Seer—any Seer—talking so brazenly about letting the magic inside her run free, unchecked. But Michelle had never been normal in that respect, and all Nick felt was pride. “I’ll help you.”
Her sister’s hand wrapped around hers, the grip so tight her nails dug against her palm. “I don’t know if it would work, but do you think Jackson knows any spells that might help me sleep?”
He did, but she didn’t know if he dared to use them on a pregnant Seer whose magic had gone haywire. “I can ask.”
Michelle licked her lips in a nervous gesture Nick hadn’t seen in a decade. “It’s okay if he doesn’t want to. But…I thought maybe with you here…”
“I’ll check. If he can’t, maybe Mrs. Holt knows something that will help you.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes drifted shut. “Could you ask Aaron to come in for a second? He’ll get snarly at everyone if I don’t let him check on me. He’s so worried.”
Maybe his presence would soothe her. If Aaron could help Michelle sleep, Nick would have time to talk to Jackson and to call Alec. Time to figure out what the hell they were all going to do. So she patted her sister’s leg and climbed off the bed. “He’ll be glad to get back in here, I bet.”
Nick hurried out and closed the door behind her. The front room was empty, and she leaned against the back of the threadbare sofa and covered her face with her hands.
The vague, roiling nausea in her belly sharpened, and she bolted for the nearest door. It turned out to be a small bathroom, and she barely made it to the toilet before her stomach emptied. Afterward, she knelt on the curling linoleum, tears seeping out between tightly shut lids.
I just have to help Michelle through this, she thought desperately. Whatever it takes.
Jackson put the last bag on the porch and leaned against a support post to stretch his leg. “Getting shot sucks. My leg’s killing me.”
“That’s what happens when you run off on your own to play hero,” Derek remarked, then winced when he heard his own challenging tone. “Sorry. I’m still…you know.”
The wizard just shrugged. “I get it. I did what I felt I had to. Maybe it saved lives, and maybe it didn’t. Either way, I’d do it again.”
Derek wasn’t sure if Jackson had missed the point or if he really didn’t understand. “No offense, Jackson, but it wasn’t your ass I was worried about. The woman I’m a little in love with ran off to storm a crazy magician’s lair and I didn’t know until my cousin called me. That chafes.”
“Yeah.” He lowered himself awkwardly to sit on the steps. “That part’s still my fault too, huh?”
Derek moved aside as he heard Aaron’s footsteps behind him. “No, it’s just—”
“Lay off him, Jackson.” Aaron leaned against the other railing and shot Derek a sympathetic look. “He can’t help it. You of all people should know that.”
“I’ve spent enough time keeping Mackenzie from freaking out when I get a hangnail,” Jackson agreed readily. “I’m not giving him a hard time.”
It was a possibility that hadn’t occurred to him—and made him feel the tiniest bit sexist. Nick certainly didn’t hesitate to get insanely protective over her nearest and dearest. Which now includes me.
His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Aaron nodded. “It’s not about who’s big and burly,” the man said. “Dominance is about more than one kind of strength. Physical strength’s the least of it. Jackson’s little kitten’s got some mean teeth.”
Jackson grinned. “I think she might be worse than Nicky, actually.”
“Whereas I have a hard time not jumping when Nick tells me to.” Aaron rolled his eyes skyward. “Don’t think she didn’t take advantage of that when the two of them were teenage girls with a new, young bodyguard to torture.”
Derek felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I thought everyone jumped when Nick told them to.”
“You don’t,” Jackson pointed out lazily, “or you’d already be stashed someplace ’til all this was over. Tell me she didn’t try it. And Alec sure the hell doesn’t hop to when she says so.”
“Yeah, I guess he doesn’t.” Alec was the one who could help her. He understood the rules of the vast political game they were tangled up in. He knew what to do, how to help. He was useful. Even now the man was off trailing Luke, doing some sort of private-investigator surveillance to ensure everyone’s safety.
So far I’ve fucked her on her kitchen floor—while forgetting to use a condom—and offered to fix the loveseat I broke to begin with.
In the grand scheme of things, he seemed to be making Nick’s life worse.
He looked up and found Jackson watching him with a serious expression. “She needs someone like you, Derek. Somebody she doesn’t have to fight all the time. Someone who can share responsibility with her instead of always trying to take it all.”
It took effort not to scowl. “Am I that transparent, or are you two fucking psychic?”
“Neither.” Aaron’s smile looked tired. “You’re just not as special as you think. For anyone who’s a shapeshifter or anyone who lives with them…” He nodded to Jackson. “Dealing with the power games is a fact of life.”
“Hell, yeah, it is,” Jackson said immediately as he shifted position with a wince. “But you two have instincts about each other, and I don’t know how that goes.” He paused. “But I do know Nicky.”
Derek braced himself. “And?”
“And you’re what she wants.” The sandy-haired man stretched his legs out in front of him. “She’s crazy about you. Has been forever.”
Which would have been enough a few days ago. Now… He looked from Jackson to Aaron. “You know how this political shit works. What’s going to happen to her if she tries to get involved with someone like me? Someone who wasn’t born like you?”
He realized his mistake when Aaron stiffened. “You mean, are you going to be on the run next when the Conclave decides you’re not good enough?”
“No. No, I just mean—”
“I don’t care what you mean.” Aaron’s tone was implacable. “Either she’s worth putting up with anything they throw at you, or she’s not. If she’s not, walk the fuck away. Now.”
“Aaron, what was all that bullshit you were handing me about going easy on him?” Jackson rose and took a wobbly step away from the porch. “My guess is Derek’s a little more concerned about making Nick’s life hell, not his own. Am I wrong?”
“No, you pretty much nailed it.” Derek glanced at Aaron. “I’ve been told enough times I’m nothing but a mutt.”
Aaron unbent enough to nod. “Some people might view it that way. But a lot of them might be glad if Nick hooked up with a guy like you. It’d make her ineligible to take over. Ugly, but true.”
A cold knot settled in the pit of Derek’s stomach. “Guess that answers that question.”
Jackson swore under his breath, but the word lacked heat. “I’m sure Nicky’s already told you she doesn’t care. If she wanted to take over, she wouldn’t be tending bar in Louisiana.”
“Right.” He tried to sound convincing, but the affirmation seemed hollow to his own ears. Nick’s birthright involved the sort of power and prestige he could barely wrap his head around. He was chatting with a man who had once served as her bodyguard, proof enough of that fact.
Then Jackson wrinkled his nose and laughed. “You’re a crappy liar, Gabriel. I don’t blame you for not knowing which way’s up. Yet. You’d better figure it out quick, though, because Nicky needs you.”