Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
He cast a quick look around and shoved his cell phone into Mackenzie’s hand. “Here,” he said quietly. “Speed dial number two and tell Alec to get his ass here five minutes ago.”
She flipped open the phone.
Jackson only vaguely heard her speaking as he opened the door and walked in, surveying his living room. It looked the same as it had when they’d left that morning. He closed his eyes and focused, slowly turning toward the sofa. Mackenzie’s bag lay at one end, right where she’d left it, but Jackson could feel that it had been searched, rifled through. Violated.
Mackenzie stepped up behind him and laid a hand on his arm. “Alec says he’s on his way.” Her fingers trembled where they rested on his arm, the nervous energy back and worse than before.
“Check your bag.” His gaze darted around the room. “See if anything is missing.”
She frowned in confusion, but obediently opened her bag. Her frown deepened as she sorted through her belongings. “A shirt’s missing.” She glanced up. “One of the ones I sleep in. Who would steal a tank top when there’s a few hundred dollars in cash sitting right next to it?”
“Someone who isn’t after money.” He walked into the hallway and pulled his lockbox off the top shelf of his closet. He opened it quickly, removed the Beretta he kept there and performed a cursory check of its mechanisms.
“What’s going on?” Mackenzie’s voice was frightened.
He gave her a serious look. He didn’t want to scare her even more, but she deserved to know the truth about her own situation. “Whoever broke in is powerful. Insanely powerful. And that means that Marcus Foster has some terrifying connections.”
Chapter 8
Jackson paced the office. “I’m telling you. It’s like the wards weren’t even there, Alec.”
“Mahalia hasn’t called you back yet?” Alec asked, his voice tense.
“Not a peep, but I’ll drive to Boca if I have to, because this shit isn’t funny.” He chewed on his thumbnail. “Dealing with someone who can walk right through Mrs. Morris’s most powerful magic isn’t the least bit amusing.”
Mackenzie shifted restlessly in Kat’s chair, her right foot still tapping on the floor. “Do you think it’s Marcus? Or that guy from earlier?”
Jackson stopped and looked at her, again torn between wanting to make her feel better and needing her to understand how much danger she was in. “Neither. That guy in the alley was small potatoes, and unless you neglected to mention that Foster is a wizard who’s about a hundred and fifty years old, there’s no way he could do something like this.”
Alec’s voice broke in. “He wouldn’t have to be a hundred and fifty if he was a Seer.”
Jackson fought a chill and pointed a finger at Alec. “That’s crazy talk, Jacobson. There’s one Seer out of how many thousands of wolves? The one cougar Seer I know of—” He broke off and glanced at Mackenzie. “Was the guy trying to romance you in his seventies?”
For the first time since their arrival she stopped fidgeting. “Uh, no. No, he looked my age, maybe a little older. Couldn’t have been much past thirty.”
Alec looked undaunted. “Well maybe there’s another one.”
“What are the mathematical odds of that, Alec?”
“Hell, Jackson. Who even knows? Who knows how many wolf Seers disappear every year because someone found out their precious blood had magic in it? Do you think Nick’s sister would have made it to adulthood if their dad wasn’t the Alpha? Besides, no one knows for sure how many cougars are out there. It’s not impossible.”
Before Jackson could reply, Mackenzie spoke. “I don’t understand. What’s a Seer? A psychic?”
Jackson held Alec’s gaze for a couple more seconds and turned to her. “Most shapeshifters can’t use other types of magic. Magic—the kind you’d think of—tends to override everything else. So when two shifters with a family history of magic have kids, sometimes there’s a kid who seems like a regular shapeshifter…until the magic ability manifests. And they’re…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “They’ve usually got more raw power in their pinkie toes than I’ve got in my whole damn body.”
“People kill them?” she asked, her face horrified.
“They’re scared of them,” Alec said softly. “Having that much power… There have been Seers in the past who’ve gone crazy from all that power, and done some horrific things.”
Mackenzie’s eyes went from Alec to Jackson. “You said Nick’s got a sister who is one?”
“A twin,” Jackson confirmed, hating the look on Mackenzie’s face. “Her name is Michelle, and Alec is right. They probably would have killed her already if John Peyton wasn’t so powerful.” He attempted a smile and failed miserably. “Just another of those injustices we were talking about yesterday.”
“Michelle’s a good kid,” Alec said firmly. “Maybe we should have Nick call her, ask if there are other Seers around. You’d think there’d be rumors.”
“No,” Jackson said, deep in thought. “Not yet. I need to get in touch with Mahalia. There’s a friend of hers, a cougar, named Steven Donovan. I don’t know how to contact him, but Mahalia would, and I…” He shrugged at Alec. “I don’t want to call Michelle unless—or until—we absolutely have to. There’s just too much political maneuvering going on with those damn wolves. No offense.”
Alec just snorted. “Don’t forget that you can’t call her. Even if they let her talk to you, it could cause problems if spell casters from New Orleans started calling her. If they ever get even the slightest suspicion that she might not be loyal…”
Mackenzie made a disbelieving noise. “Are you honestly saying they would kill Nick’s sister over a phone call?”
“Probably not.” Alec didn’t take his eyes off Jackson’s face. “But it’s not worth the risk. Have Nick call her if you have to.”
“I’m not stupid enough to call Michelle myself. I have half a brain in my head.”
Alec’s blunt words were upsetting Mackenzie even more. She’d gone from bouncing her foot to twisting Kat’s chair back and forth, the movement bursting with nervous energy.
Her face was flushed, and her eyes widened when they met his. “I’m not feeling better anymore. I—I’m feeling worse.”
He lowered his hand to her shoulder. “Antsy?”
“I can’t sit still.” The color in her cheeks deepened as she stared at her hands. “I feel—”
The bell above the front door interrupted her, the sound barely fading before Kat exclaimed, “Holy shit.”
Jackson groaned. “Kat, what the hell are you doing here?” He was disconcerted, Mackenzie had some freakish nervous condition, and the last thing they needed was an empath running around the office, soaking up their bad vibes.
Alec was out of his chair before the door swung shut behind Kat. “C’mon, missy. You are getting out of here. Now.”
Kat stared at Jackson, her eyes wide and face flushed, just like Mackenzie’s. “Oh, my. I, um—”
Mackenzie hid her face with her hands as Alec bustled Kat out the front door. “Fuck, she could feel that?”
Jackson stared at her, bewildered. “She’s an empath. She could feel pretty much anything that you—” His eyes narrowed as he took in her embarrassment and realization washed over him. “Oh. Oh.”
“It started this afternoon,” she admitted in a hoarse whisper. “Maybe the stress is getting to me. Or maybe it’s sexual frustration. But I really didn’t want to share it with anyone else.”
“Well…” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and tried not to sound too flustered. “What the… I mean, why’re you…?”
Before she could reply, the front door opened again and Alec stuck his head in. “I need to talk to you, Holt. Now.”
Jackson held up a hand, stammered an unintelligible noise at Mackenzie and followed Alec outside. “Look, whatever she’s got going on, it isn’t—”