Moira Rogers - Crux

By the time they reached the last protective ward, Michelle looked pale and unsteady. Aaron murmured something to her as she stopped, the words too soft for Jackson to make out. She smiled wanly in return and shook her head, but leaned against him as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

He didn’t feel anything, which was the most frightening part. Michelle was gathering a massive amount of magical energy, but she was expending just as much magic to hide her efforts. If he hadn’t seen her do it—twice, no less—he might not have believed it possible.

The fact that the man holding Mackenzie had just as much power—and decades of experience using it—was something he tried not to think about.

The amulet around his wrist turned hot, and Michelle gasped. “I—I think—” She swayed, and Aaron steadied her as Nick stifled a gasp of her own.

He looked at the carved wooden disk, doing his best to ignore the rust-colored smears of Steven’s dried blood on it. “You did it, Michelle. They’re working.”

“Never doubted it for a minute, honey.” Mahalia laid a hand on Michelle’s shoulder, her dark red nails a stark contrast to the borrowed T-shirt the Seer wore, and Jackson shuddered. More blood. He was suddenly glad he didn’t believe in omens.

Nick stepped forward. She’d dressed Michelle in her clothes, and they wore the exact same outfit. It had taken Michelle a while to understand why Nick would want to risk someone mistaking them for each other, but she hadn’t argued. It would be dangerous for Nick, but none of them would be safe. Now, looking at them was like looking at a mirror reflection, and Jackson could have sworn even the magic surging through Michelle was echoed in her sister.

“You going to make it?” she asked softly, rubbing Michelle’s arm.

Michelle opened her eyes, and her lips curled into a self-deprecating smile that Jackson recognized all too well. Michelle could have been Nick then, right down to the slightly wry tone in her voice, even if the words were too formal. “I suppose I’ve gotten used to being the most intimidating person around. For a second I didn’t think it would work.”

“You did good.” Nick surveyed the break in the trees ahead and bit her lip. “The house is just over that rise.”

Jackson nudged Alec. “Should we go in separately from the others?”

His partner frowned and cast a look at Steven. “Is Michelle going to have to blow off the front door to get us in?”

Steven hesitated just long enough to make the answer clear. “Maybe.”

“So we go in together.” Alec grinned at Michelle, though it must have taken great effort to hide his discomfort as he patted her arm encouragingly. “Make a lot of commotion when you knock, Michelle. That should get everyone’s attention.”

The way her face lit at Alec’s acceptance was heartbreaking. “I don’t think I can do it quietly. Jackson and Mahalia had better shield for all they’re worth, though, or the backlash will knock them over.”

Jackson held up both hands. “Consider me warned.”

Nick whispered something to Aaron and glanced at Jackson. “We all know what to do.”

Try our best and hope like hell it works. “Yeah.”

Steven and Alec took the lead. Michelle fell into step behind them, with Nick pressed tightly to her right side and Aaron towering next to her, one hand hovering over her back. Mahalia slid her hand into Jackson’s as they cleared the trees and crested the rise. The house came into view, and she sighed nervously. “Here goes nothing, Jack.”

They made it to the front door, and the blood pounded in Jackson’s ears as he steeled himself against Michelle’s magic. Still, he thought his head might explode along with the wood, and it took him a moment to orient himself as the group charged through the shattered remains of the front door, guns drawn, spells at the ready.

Alec and Steven jerked to a stop so quickly Michelle bumped into Steven and stumbled back into Jackson. He barely caught her as ironic applause filled the room.

A large, curving staircase rose in front of them. Charles stood on the fourth step, surveying them with absolutely no surprise as he brought his hands together one last time and smiled. “Goodness, Miss Peyton. Was that entirely necessary? You youngsters are so ostentatious.”

The two men who’d attacked them outside the bar flanked Charles, and Jackson’s heart stuttered. “Where’s Mackenzie?”

The Seer’s icy blue gaze focused on Jackson, and there was nothing left of sanity in his expression. The utter lack of emotion, of anything human, chilled him. Charles acknowledged his reaction with a tiny, wry smile and a nod. “So. You must be the reason she was so resistant. At first.”

Crazy as a fucking loon. He glanced at Alec and saw his partner had come to the same conclusion. “Look, we’d all love to hang around and engage in some banter—”

“She’s gone.” The flat, weary words came from the shifter beside Talbot, the one he’d fought in the alley by Nick’s bar. “Marcus took her and left.”

Charles sighed in disappointment. Power surged, magic so strong it made even Michelle’s formidable energy pale in comparison. Charles flicked a finger as if knocking away a piece of lint, and the large shapeshifter grunted as his feet flew out from under him and his body flipped over the banister and barreled into the wall. The drywall buckled when he crashed into it, and the man sank to the floor, unconscious.

“I’ve had quite enough of traitors,” Charles said, his voice chillingly casual. Jackson realized too late that he’d turned to watch the shapeshifter fly against the wall. He yanked his attention back to Charles.

Charles held a gun in his hand. The world slowed, the time between each heartbeat an eternity as Jackson scrambled for his magic. Michelle gasped softly, and Alec swore and aimed his own gun at Charles.

Too slow. The barrel of Charles’s gun swung in a perfect arch to point directly at Steven’s head. His finger twitched once, and he fired.

Mahalia screamed, and chaos erupted.

Nick caught Steven as he slumped toward the floor, and Aaron shielded Michelle’s body with his own. Alec and Jackson returned fire, but their bullets skittered to a stop a foot shy of Charles and clattered to the marble stairs.

Charles smiled at them and rasped in a labored breath. Mahalia chanted, her dark eyes alight with fury, and the Seer clutched his throat.

Under Aaron, Michelle gasped. Magic gathered in the room, taking on visible colors as Mahalia’s voice grew louder. Mahalia wasn’t incredibly strong, but rage fed her power, and Jackson felt the tug as she reached out and gathered magic from every available source.

Charles’s response was more direct. He dropped one hand to clench around the shoulder of his last remaining ally. The small spell caster sucked in a sharp breath, and Jackson had only a heartbeat to brace himself as Charles ripped the power from the man’s body.

The caster screamed, high and pained, and the world exploded. Darkness engulfed Jackson, and he cursed as everything fell away.

Mackenzie ate, showered and flipped through every channel on the television. Twice. She brushed out her hair and braided it tightly. She unwove it and left it hanging around her shoulders. She paged through the phonebook on a whim, and called directory assistance once looking for John Peyton in New York City. She even called thirteen of the twenty-seven results before she gave up.

Marcus slept through all of it, dead to the world, and so worn and exhausted even in sleep that she didn’t have the heart to wake him.

She was on her third pass through the television when the phone finally rang. She lunged for it, heart in her chest, and answered in a shaking voice. “Hello?”