“Well…” Nick hopped up to sit on the railing next to him. “We’re not exactly going to be splitting our time between co-ed Twister and bass fishing, Jackson. There’s stuff to be done. Stuff for you to do.” She gave him a stern look. “This isn’t the kind of situation where we can just bust in there, guns blazing, and save the damsel. Not without heavy casualties.”
She was right. They were all right, but it didn’t help the growing sense of unease and dread that made his skin crawl. “I know, Nicky, but God damn it—”
“Yeah.” She nudged his leg with her foot. “My sister’s good. Strong. With her and Mahalia both, and you helping them…”
“Yeah,” he said woodenly. “It’ll all work out.”
“It will,” she insisted over the sound of the back door opening again. “We’ll do it together.”
“I wish I could do it faster.” Michelle spoke quietly, her tone apologetic. Nick’s sister stood a few feet away, her hulking bodyguard at her back. She’d pulled her hair from its formal knot and exchanged her prim business suit for a flowing silk skirt and blouse that made her seem more approachable. “I’m sorry, Jackson.”
Nick shot him a warning look, and he grimaced at her before giving Michelle an encouraging smile. “Look, it takes time. I get it. It can’t be helped.”
“It’s not just that.” Michelle leaned on the railing next to Nick. “I know how frustrating it is, waiting for the Conclave to give me permission to do anything. We’ve slowed things down.”
The two sisters made an odd picture, identical save for the fact that Nick was dressed like a lumberjack in jeans, boots and a thermal henley. Jackson watched as Nick’s hand found Michelle’s, comforting her without conscious thought. “None of this is your fault, Micky,” she said soothingly. “Besides, if Steven’s right, going after Mackenzie sooner wouldn’t have gotten us anywhere but dead,”
No, Jackson thought morosely. None of this is Michelle’s fault, mostly because it’s mine. “Better listen to your sister, kiddo. She’s saved my hide a couple of times, so she must be pretty smart.”
“She likes to think she is.” Michelle wrinkled her nose at Nick, who made a face in return. “She’s bossy as hell too.” Michelle’s gaze shifted back to the bodyguard and she frowned suddenly. “No one introduced you to Aaron, did they?”
He straightened and held out his hand. “Jackson Holt.”
The man accepted his hand, his grip firm but not aggressive. “Aaron Spencer.”
“Aaron’s been chasing me around for years,” Michelle said, a fond smile on her lips. “In the beginning he had to chase both of us. No one warned him what he was getting himself into.”
Jackson might have been in over his head when it came to the current situation, but he’d always been good with body language, and he instantly recognized the undercurrents flowing between Michelle and the tall, red-haired man who stepped up beside her. If they weren’t involved romantically, he could tell they both wanted to be.
He glanced at Nick, who was merely watching them both with bemusement. “Can’t speak to Michelle’s behavior, but if you had to watch over this one…” He poked Nick with his elbow and dodged the one she sent his way. “Let’s just say I feel your pain, Aaron.”
Aaron unbent enough to smile as he stretched one arm out along the railing behind Michelle, his posture protective. “You have no idea. They’re both okay one at a time, but together they’ll put gray in your hair before thirty.”
Nick held up both hands. “Okay, consider the point conceded. Just don’t forget that I could whip both of your asses.” She tilted her head. “Well, maybe not yours, Aaron. Have you gotten taller?”
“You’ve definitely gotten shorter. I like the clothes, though. Sort of…park-ranger chic. It suits you.”
“Enough.” Michelle flashed Jackson a long-suffering look. “They’ll go back and forth like this for hours if you let them. My father, Alec and Steven are coordinating plans for a physical attack, but Mahalia wanted to walk us both through the steps needed to circumvent the wards.”
Nick hopped off the railing, her boots landing on the porch with a thump. “I’d better go help the boys, or at least supervise.”
Jackson snorted. “I’ll listen to anything May says if she’s going to be cooking while she says it. I’m starving.”
“Where do you want me to go, Michelle?” Aaron’s voice was quiet as he looked at Michelle. “Want me to stick with you?”
“You’ll feel better if you know what the plan is.” Her fingers brushed his hand, but it looked like a furtive motion, one they tried to hide. “Go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Michelle watched him go, then said, “Don’t say it, Nicky.”
Nick just scuffed the toe of one boot against the planks beneath her feet and leaned close to Michelle, her voice a whisper. “I say more power to you.” She slipped her arms around Michelle’s neck for a quick hug. “Take care of Jackson, and I’ll keep an eye on lover boy.” With a wink, she took off after Aaron.
“You can’t—” Michelle took a deep breath and looked at Jackson. “We’re not involved,” she blurted out, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s not allowed. But if anyone was to find out that we have—that there are feelings… It would be bad. Dangerous, for both of us.”
That sent one of Jackson’s eyebrows up in an arch. “How come?”
“Seers aren’t allowed to have relationships.”
“At all?” He knew his expression must be one of laughable shock, but he couldn’t help it. “Ever?”
“Ever. No emotional or physical intimacy of any kind is allowed.”
Jackson sagged against one of the support beams and tried to wrap his brain around that. “Why?”
“It depends on who you ask.” Michelle leaned her elbows on the railing and picked absently at a piece of flaking paint. “The emotional part is easy. They don’t want me to have divided loyalties.”
The more Jackson heard about the lives of Seers, the worse he felt for Michelle. “How about the rest of it?” he asked gently, staring at her profile.
“Superstition, mostly.” She continued to worry at the chip of paint, her expression distant. “People claim that a Seer who loses her virginity loses her powers. Personally, I think they don’t want me passing on my dirty magical genes by mistake.”
“Your genes are the same as Nick’s,” he noted blandly, “and the entirety of shapeshifter society is waiting with bated breath for her to make a good match, settle down and have a bunch of babies. What kind of sense does that make?”
Michelle shrugged. “That’s the way it is. I’m an asset to the Conclave if I’m under control. If I thought for a second I’d lose my powers if I had sex, I’d have done it years ago. But it would only serve to put my lover in danger. So…I ignore it.”
He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if Mackenzie wouldn’t have been better off without any of this shit. I mean, the social stuff. Not only do you have to worry about the same crap as everyone else, but you have to be careful not to reveal yourself or step on the wrong toes, do something wrong… It’s a huge mess sometimes.”
“She’s got Nick to ease her into it.” Michelle smiled at him. “You must have realized by now that the free-spirited party-girl image she’s cultivated so meticulously isn’t all there is to her. Nick knows our society. And Mackenzie will have you, too. She’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. She’ll have both of us. There’s something be said for—” His words cut off as his phone began to ring. “Sorry. Hang on.”
Michelle straightened. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”
It was Kat again. “Did you hear from Mariko?” he answered, eschewing pleasantries as the door swung shut behind Michelle.
“Yep.” Kat’s voice was easy. “Her guy in Boston had actually heard of Talbot. Said the guy’s a legend. There was an informal competition a few years back to see if anyone could get a meeting with him. They wanted his advice on some sort of magical thing—” There was a rustle of paper. “Trip-wire wards, she called them? Anyway, Mari said that no one could even get within a quarter mile of the property, much less score any face time with him. Some of them think he’s not even alive anymore, though I’m guessing you know that’s not true.”