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The roundabout explanation frustrated Mackenzie. “Jesus, Kat. Just spit it out.”

“Sorry. I’m a nervous babbler. I mean, when I get nervous sometimes I talk a lot—” Obviously. Mackenzie ground her teeth and to keep from interrupting. “But what I’m trying to say… I’m sort of a computer whiz. I mean, good with the less-than-legal stuff.”

“You’re a hacker?” Mackenzie asked incredulously. It was hard to reconcile the cute, sweet-faced young woman in the girly sundress with that mental image.

Then again, she hadn’t expected Jackson to be some kind of wizard. She didn’t feel like a shapeshifter.

“Hacker. I don’t care what Mari says, that word is so misused. There’s all this craziness about computer geeks trying to reappropriate it, and all the crap about it being a benign phrase, but it really is insulting since the etymology—”

“Kat.” Mackenzie cut her off. “Focus, would you?”

“Right. John Peyton.” The noise of keys clacking returned. “Hey, I’m going to go so I can make some calls. I’ll call you back when I can, okay? If I get Jackson, I’ll give him your number.”

“Okay.” She took a breath. “Thanks, Kat.”

“Sure, Mackenzie. Hang in there, okay? I’m glad you’re not all caught in the evil clutches of a crazy criminal mastermind anymore.”

“Thanks. Me too, I guess.”

“Yeah. Talk to you soon.”

The line clicked, leaving Mackenzie staring at the phone with a confusing mixture of worry and bewilderment. Jesus. That is one weird kid.

When Jackson was safely in front of her, she’d tell him that. With a tiny smile, Mackenzie hung up the phone and sat back on the bed to wait.

Please be safe. Please be here soon.

“Jesus, Holt. Wake the fuck up already.”

Jackson blinked, trying to clear the fog from his head. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was or why he was there.

Then it all snapped into place.

“May,” he muttered, sitting abruptly. “Shit, what—”

Mahalia sat across the foyer, cradling Steven’s head in her lap. Her eyes were swollen, red. “Jack.”

Steven was dead.

Alec steadied him. “Nick’s only just now coming around, and Michelle’s out cold. Whatever the bastard did stunned me and Aaron long enough for him to get out, but it hit all of you casters hard. And Nick, for some reason.”

“Michelle’s magic.” Jackson’s voice came out sounding too thick. “She’s sharing it with Nick.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steven’s motionless form. “He shot him.”

“Yeah.” Alec crouched and lowered his voice. “You’ve got to talk to Mahalia. She won’t let anyone check on her. Won’t move either.”

Charles had shot him. His own nephew. “Okay.”

Jackson made it to his feet and walked slowly across the slick floor. Nick stared at him as he passed, her face and shirt streaked with blood, and he looked away.

“May.” He knelt beside her and covered one of her hands with his. “May—”

“We can’t leave him here,” she whispered, stroking her thumb over the dead man’s cheek. “Do you think Michelle’s friend could carry him?”

Alec knelt by Mahalia’s other side. “He’s got his hands full with Michelle, Mahalia. She hasn’t woken up yet. He’s pretty worried.”

Her face hardened. “We can’t leave him here.”

Jackson shook his head. “I’ll carry him myself if I have to.”

“My father could send a helicopter,” Nick said hoarsely from her position beside Michelle. “He could take you both back to New York this morning, Mahalia.”

“Cell phones aren’t worth a damn out here, but I’m sure Talbot’s got a landline somewhere.” Alec pushed himself to his feet again. “I’ll take Nick and we’ll find one. Call her dad.”

Dead. Steven’s dead. The thought kept pounding through Jackson’s head. “You hear that? Alec and Nick are going to take care of it.”

She grabbed his hand suddenly. “Find him, Jack. You promise me you’ll find Charles Talbot.”

The flat, shocked look in her eyes made him shiver. “I will. I promise.”

Silence fell again, stretching out between them unbroken until a low groan sounded on the other side of the room. The shapeshifter who’d been working for Charles stirred from his awkward position, slumped underneath the cracked remains of the sheetrock wall. “Fuck.”

Jackson was on his feet before he realized he’d moved, and he didn’t stop until he had his hands wrapped in the guy’s shirt. He dragged him up the wall and hissed a curse. “Where is she? Where did your boss take her?”

The man’s eyes slid open, and he looked like he was trying to focus. “He ran. Marcus found out what Talbot was going to do to her, and they ran. That’s all I know.”

He tugged at his shirt and slammed him back into the wall again. “Think real hard. What else?”

“Fuck you, man. Did it look like I was in the know?” Strong hands wrapped around Jackson’s wrists, the grip painful. “I’m in the shithouse for letting them go. Your little kitten turned this place upside-down.”

Nick stepped up beside them, sparing the man a cold glare. “My father is already on his way. Mackenzie called your office, and Kat called him.”

“She’s safe?” Relief weakened Jackson’s knees, and he glanced over at Alec. “Where did he take her?”

“They’re holed up in a hotel in Boston. I called Kat. She said Mackenzie was frantic, but seemed okay. Mostly worried about you.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jackson muttered.

“Shouldn’t be long.” Nick rubbed her hands over her face. “They’re only about five minutes out, but we won’t all fit in the helicopter.” Her gaze strayed to Michelle. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

She rushed off, and Jackson echoed her gesture by scrubbing wearily at his eyes. “We can’t wait for them to make another trip back to pick us up. How long would it take us to drive to Boston?”

Alec shrugged. “Five or six hours, depending on how morning traffic is. Peyton’s going to have other things on his mind besides Mackenzie, especially with his daughter unconscious and a crazed Seer on the loose. We probably need to get our asses in the car and drive.”

Jackson nodded. “So that’s what we’ll do. Can you keep an eye on this guy while I make sure Mahalia’s holding up?”

“Yeah. No problem.”

When Jackson spoke to her again, Mahalia ignored him. He sat beside her, smoothing his hand over her short, dark hair, and waited.

Mackenzie had grown so tense by the time the phone rang that she jumped and shrieked when the ringer went off. Marcus started awake, but she ignored him as she dove for the phone and yanked the handset off the hook. “Kat? Did you find him? Is he okay?”

Silence met her words. “It’s me. I’m all right.”

“Jackson.” She sank back to the bed, her hands shaking with the force of her relief. “Are you okay? What happened? I tried to call—I tried to let you know, but Kat said you’d already gone to get me—”

“We went to Talbot’s estate,” he confirmed wearily. “Steven—he didn’t make it. Everyone else is fine.”

Her stomach twisted. “Oh, Jesus. What happened?” As she spoke, Marcus leaned up and watched her carefully.

“Talbot lost his shit, that’s what.” He spoke away from the phone, but she heard him clearly. “Have they gotten to New York yet?”

Nick answered him. “They’re half an hour out.”

A tiny bit of relief welled in her at the sound of that voice. “Nick’s okay?”

His voice came back on the line. “No one else got hurt. Just Steven. Mahalia…well, she’s in bad shape.”

Sympathy flooded her, followed by choking guilt. “God, I should have stayed, or found some way to contact you.” He died for nothing.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed again. “Are you—is everything all right there?”

“I’m okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at Marcus, who had rolled over to face the wall and grant her the illusion of privacy. “Marcus got me out. He didn’t know what was going on, not really. Are you…?”