“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 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.”
Chapter 20
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.”
“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. “Just my personal feelings on the subject.”
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. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were wide and 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.”
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.”
Nick didn’t look concerned. “I don’t want to marry the guy, Mahalia. I just want to date him.”
“Mm-hmm.” The older woman’s eyes were shrewd. “Famous last words, baby girl.”
The front door opened, and Steven walked in with John Peyton close at his heels. Both men looked deadly serious, and there was a tension between them that made Jackson edgy. Steven’s gaze slid over the room and stopped on Mahalia. “May, will you step outside with me for a second?”
She stared at him as she took a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator. “That depends. Do you want to talk to me alone, or does John Peyton want to talk to Jack and Nicole?”
The older man flinched visibly, but his attention didn’t waver from Mahalia. The pain in Steven’s eyes was so intense Jackson felt like he was intruding on something private. “I want to talk to you.”
Nick cleared her throat and nudged Mahalia, earning a sharp look. Jackson caught his friend’s eye and jerked his head toward the hall. “Nicky, can you help me with something?”
“No need to leave.” Mahalia tightened the belt of her robe and walked past the two men to the back door. “I like to have all my futile, pointless arguments before breakfast, anyway.”
Steven didn’t meet Jackson’s gaze. He followed Mahalia, jerking the door shut behind him.