The two men exchanged looks, and the taller one stepped forward. "We gonna do this the hard way, Jessica?"
Mackenzie's fingers dug into his hand, but her voice stayed steady. "Stop calling me that. I already told you that I'm not Jessica Evans, whoever she is."
He started to take another step, but the short man reached out suddenly, his eyes focused on Jackson. "Watch out, Eddie. He's a caster, and not second-rate, either."
"Really." The man named Eddie surveyed Jackson before switching his gaze back to Mackenzie. "So, Jess—I'm sorry. Mackenzie. You finally starting to believe?"
"What do you want?" Jackson kept his voice even. "Who sent you?"
Eddie's lips curled into a slow smile. "What, she didn't tell you? Or did she lie and make up some sob story? She's good at it, with the big blue eyes and that pretty face."
He could have been human, but Jackson doubted it, accompanied as he was by a spell caster of the short man's caliber. Shapeshifter, he decided. "Why don't you tell me. The story I got is ‘crazy stalker', and I have to say…it's lookin' pretty credible at the moment."
Jackson felt the soft whisper of power down his spine as magic began to gather in the back alley. The magic-user watched him with bright eyes and a slightly condescending smile. "She's got something our boss needs," he said quietly. "Something very, very precious. Irreplaceable, in fact. No one's going to hurt her, and if she comes with us she'll be treated like a queen. Whatever she's told you, it's a lie."
Jackson edged in front of Mackenzie and muttered quickly under his breath, hoping the shield he placed would hold after he'd moved into the fight. "Tell me what she has, and I'll get it for you. But I won't let you take her against her will."
Eddie snorted. "Not how it works, buddy. You move and she comes with us, or we move you and she still comes with us."
Mackenzie's hand brushed his shoulder. "They'll do it. They'll kill you. They killed someone in Minneapolis. Chicago, too. Maybe you should just—"
Jackson lifted his arm, speaking a single word as he did, and the magic-user flew into the side of the building, his face hitting it with a sickening crunch. Jackson addressed Mackenzie as the man slumped to the ground. "Get back. If something happens, get inside with Nick. She can protect you." He didn't take his eyes from Eddie as he spoke. "Okay, Tiny. Let's see how you fare without your caster."
The alley erupted into chaos. That was the only way to describe what happened after Jackson gently pushed her back.
Mackenzie stumbled two steps and flattened herself against the wall, her gaze focused on the short man slumped on the ground. He didn't move, hadn't since he'd flown into the wall as if tossed by a giant hand.
It made no sense. Neither did Jackson's insistence that Nick would protect her. Nick was maybe five feet tall on a good day, and so petite Mackenzie was fairly sure she could pick her up with little effort. Huge, towering Eddie looked like he could pick Jackson up without breaking a sweat.
Eddie started forward, looking as if he'd had the same thought. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and a cocky grin curled his lips as he sized Jackson up. "So you got the jump on Mason. Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"Nope," Jackson said. "You're supposed to be impressed after I kick your ass." He took another step away from Mackenzie and assumed a fighting stance, bringing up his fists. "Just because I use magic doesn't mean I'm a weenie."
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."
Chapter Six
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."