Moira Rogers - Crux

Mackenzie’s heart froze in her chest, pure panic bubbling around it. Jackson wasn’t a savior or a hero. Jackson was as crazy as Marcus and Eddie, with their talk of shapeshifters and magic and destiny. She’d fallen headfirst into a vast cult of lunatics who thought they were something out of a fantasy novel.

Jackson was one of them. He was too good to be true. Figures he’s crazy.

Jackson and Eddie blocked the exit from the alley. Her only other option was to go through the bar, to slip past Nick and whoever else from their crazy cult might be inside. To abandon Jackson to trouble he’d stumbled into because of her.

Crazy or not, he’d helped her. She couldn’t run away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid .

It seemed like her realization had taken forever, but the men still approached each other with deadly intent. Eddie growled low in his throat as he stopped just out of reach, pure joy flooding his eyes. He didn’t pause for witty repartee, didn’t do any of the silly things the bad guys always did in movies. He sized up Jackson and launched himself at him, his fist flying so fast it was only a blur.

Jackson must have anticipated it. He dodged the punch, stepping aside so Eddie’s blow whistled harmlessly through the air. He rounded on him, his foot aiming for the back of Eddie’s knee. It looked like the blow might land, but Eddie swung the back of his fist out and clipped Jackson on the side of the head. He staggered, and Mackenzie’s breath caught in her throat.

It didn’t take him long to recover, and he straightened, flashing Eddie a disgruntled look. “Now, are you pullin’ those at all? Because if you’re fightin’ dirty, I’m joinin’ you.”

Eddie smirked and came at him again.

“Oh, fine .” Jackson huffed and held up a closed fist. When he opened it, a shimmering ball of light hovered above his palm.

Mackenzie blinked and rubbed her eyes, but when she looked again it hadn’t disappeared. If anything, the light had grown brighter.

Oh God, now I’m going crazy.

The corner of Jackson’s mouth ticked up as he regarded Eddie. “Aren’t you just wishin’ you knew what I was about to do?”

The cocky grin slid from Eddie’s face as he charged, full-bore, at Jackson. At the last second, he whispered and the light exploded, blinding in its intensity.

When Mackenzie’s vision cleared, Jackson stood beside her. “Come on. The effect only lasts for a couple of minutes. We’d better be far away from here by then.”

She looked at Eddie, who stumbled into the wall and cursed, hands out in front of him as though he couldn’t see.

She’d lost her mind. It was the only explanation. She’d lost her mind, and the stress and the terror had made her as insane as they were. Or maybe it’s real, whispered a tiny voice, one she wasn’t sure she could acknowledge. Not yet.

But now wasn’t the time to wonder about her sanity. Jackson might be crazy, but he hadn’t hurt her yet. She wrapped her hand around his and nodded. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go.”

His apartment was in the Garden District, on the first floor of a quiet building on a quiet street. Jackson very much liked it that way, just as he was fond of the multiple exits, excellent vantage point and long-standing wards, thanks to his upstairs neighbor, sweet little Mrs. Morris. She was off her rocker, but mostly harmless, considering she also happened to be one of the most powerful witches in the city.

“Come on in,” he said to Mackenzie. It was clean, for once, so at least he wasn’t embarrassed about the state of his place. “Just…make yourself at home. You want a drink, right? I bet you want a drink.”

“I—” She looked as dazed now as she had when he’d grabbed her hand to lead her away from the bar. “Maybe I need a psychiatrist. Or a padded room. If I can’t have those, I suppose a drink will do.”

“Nah, you’re okay,” he assured her. “Well, nothing some bourbon won’t cure.” He walked over to the small cabinet in the corner, and withdrew a glass and a crystal decanter. “A little, a lot or ‘bring me the bottle, already’?”

When he turned, it was to find Mackenzie watching him with shocked blue eyes. “How many bottles do you have over there?”

Well, that answered that question. He poured a generous serving and corked the decanter. “How about we try to keep you sober for the time being? Until I can help you process what you saw.”

She stood in the middle of the room, looking too dazed to sit. “How can I process it? Everyone’s crazy, and now I am too.”

He gently directed her toward the sofa and sat in the sleek leather chair adjacent to it. “You’re not crazy. Neither am I. Whether this guy after you is nuts has yet to be determined.” He eyed her. “Go on. Ask me something.”

Mackenzie blinked once and looked at the glass he’d pressed into her hands. “Marcus said he was some sort of—of werewolf thing. Only not a wolf. A cougar or something. And he babbled on and on about magic and our destiny and how we were connected at birth. I thought he was nuts. I mean, insane . Escaped-from-an-institution crazy.”

“Well…” Jackson scratched the back of his neck. “The stuff about magic and destiny sounds like a bad pickup line, but I suppose he could be a cougar.” He eyed her. “That would mean he thinks you’re one too. You’re not?”

She lifted her head, staring at him as if she didn’t understand what he was asking. “Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You just—you just asked me if I’m—” She closed her eyes and drank half of the bourbon at once.

“A cougar, yes,” he nodded, watching her carefully. She might think she was on the verge of a psychotic break, but she wasn’t going into shock, which was the more immediate threat. “I can look, if you’d like. It’s a simple spell. Mahalia taught it to me.”

Mackenzie opened her eyes again and stared at him. “A spell,” she said flatly. “Is that—is that what—God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” She took another sip and exhaled. “Is that what was going on with those two guys?”

Jackson sighed and tilted his head from side to side. “Eh, sort of. The little scrawny guy was a magic-user. A spell caster,” he clarified. “He was getting ready to do something big, so I had to knock him out. The wall was handy. As for the tall guy, Eddie… Well, now, that was something entirely different. I can’t be sure, but I think he was a shifter.”

“Shifter?” She blinked at him.

“Shapeshifter. Wolf, probably,” he said with a nod. “There aren’t many of any other kind, not around these parts.” He paused, but figured she had to be on information overload, anyway. He might as well go for it. “Nick and Alec, my partner? They’re wolves too.”

She drained the rest of the bourbon and set the glass down with a thump . “Do…” She waved a hand. “Something magical.”

“Useful, or just showy?”

“Something I can see. Something that proves what you’re saying.”

He pondered that. “Energy is my thing. I could make you float, but you can’t see that. I can set things on fire, or throw them, or make them invisible.” He grinned. “Hey. Want to see me make myself invisible?”

“I— Okay. Okay, let me see you make yourself invisible.”

He laughed. “I never get tired of that one.” He stood and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, this isn’t so much about me being invisible as you not being able to see me. I’m going to be affecting light refraction, or some shit. Mahalia explained it all to me, but I don’t really care how it works. Here goes.” He closed his eyes and the humming started, the barely perceptible thread of sound that usually accompanied magic. “Now, look away, but just for a second. I’ll stay right here.”