"Yeah, he's pretty good." He put a hand on her shoulder to guide her past a group of college kids. She seemed fairly relaxed at the moment, something for which he was grateful. All evening, she'd been wavering between tranquil and intense, almost uneasy, and it was starting to worry him. "Anything else you want to see, or do you want to go back to my place and watch some television?"

"Hmm." She seemed to consider it as she dropped her gaze to her cup again, and her shoulder tensed slightly under his hand. Her next step was too close, and she b.u.mped into him. "Sorry. I think television would be good. I'm tired."

"You all right?" he asked, concerned. "You seem a little off."

"I'm not sure. I've been feeling...antsy. Maybe I'm not used to this much sleep."

His frown deepened, and he threw the rest of his melting lemonade in a nearby garbage can. "Come on. We won't wait for the streetcar. We'll take a cab." He laid a hand on her elbow and stepped to the curb, raising an arm to signal a taxi.

It was impossible not to hear the way her breathing hitched as his fingers brushed her skin. She shivered and dropped her cup in the can after his. "A taxi might be a good idea."

When a yellow cab slowed to a stop beside them, Jackson opened the door for Mackenzie. "Hop in, and we'll get you home as fast as we can."

She was fidgeting when he slid in next to her, one leg bouncing restlessly as she drummed her fingers on her knee. "Maybe I had too much caffeine." The light tone sounded false, and he could feel her vibrating with barely leashed energy next to him.

"Maybe." He found himself wishing Mahalia would call him back. He had the vague, uncomfortable sense that whatever was going on with Mackenzie wasn't as mundane as a coffee overdose. He gave the cabbie his address and scooted farther from her, moving his leg away from hers. "It won't be long."

"Okay." She let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. After several deep breaths, her body began to relax. "G.o.d, I don't know. Maybe it's just stress. There's been so much going on..."

"Don't sweat it. Stress can do some crazy things."

"I suppose." She kept her eyes closed, but her hand snuck across the seat until it found his. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome, Kenzie."

They reached his apartment quickly, and Jackson paid the driver while Mackenzie stood by the cab, still looking like she was going to jump out of her skin.

"Come on." He led her down the sidewalk. "You probably got overheated. We'll get you a big gla.s.s of water and-" His words cut off as he touched his door, his hand flattening against the wood with a slap.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

He cast a quick look around and shoved his cell phone into Mackenzie's hand. "Here," he said quietly. "Speed dial number two and tell Alec to get his a.s.s here five minutes ago."

She flipped open the phone.

Jackson only vaguely heard her speaking as he opened the door and walked in, surveying his living room. It looked the same as it had when they'd left that morning. He closed his eyes and focused, slowly turning toward the sofa. Mackenzie's bag lay at one end, right where she'd left it, but Jackson could feel that it had been searched, rifled through. Violated.

Mackenzie stepped up behind him and laid a hand on his arm. "Alec says he's on his way." Her fingers trembled where they rested on his arm, the nervous energy back and worse than before.

"Check your bag." His gaze darted around the room. "See if anything is missing."

She frowned in confusion, but obediently opened her bag. Her frown deepened as she sorted through her belongings. "A shirt's missing." She glanced up. "One of the ones I sleep in. Who would steal a tank top when there's a few hundred dollars in cash sitting right next to it?"

"Someone who isn't after money." He walked into the hallway and pulled his lockbox off the top shelf of his closet. He opened it quickly, removed the Beretta he kept there and performed a cursory check of its mechanisms.

"What's going on?" Mackenzie's voice was frightened.

He gave her a serious look. He didn't want to scare her even more, but she deserved to know the truth about her own situation. "Whoever broke in is powerful. Insanely powerful. And that means that Marcus Foster has some terrifying connections."

Chapter Eight.

Jackson paced the office. "I'm telling you. It's like the wards weren't even there, Alec."

"Mahalia hasn't called you back yet?" Alec asked, his voice tense.

"Not a peep, but I'll drive to Boca if I have to, because this s.h.i.t isn't funny." He chewed on his thumbnail. "Dealing with someone who can walk right through Mrs. Morris's most powerful magic isn't the least bit amusing."

Mackenzie shifted restlessly in Kat's chair, her right foot still tapping on the floor. "Do you think it's Marcus? Or that guy from earlier?"

Jackson stopped and looked at her, again torn between wanting to make her feel better and needing her to understand how much danger she was in. "Neither. That guy in the alley was small potatoes, and unless you neglected to mention that Foster is a wizard who's about a hundred and fifty years old, there's no way he could do something like this."

Alec's voice broke in. "He wouldn't have to be a hundred and fifty if he was a Seer."

Jackson fought a chill and pointed a finger at Alec. "That's crazy talk, Jacobson. There's one Seer out of how many thousands of wolves? The one cougar Seer I know of-" He broke off and glanced at Mackenzie. "Was the guy trying to romance you in his seventies?"

For the first time since their arrival she stopped fidgeting. "Uh, no. No, he looked my age, maybe a little older. Couldn't have been much past thirty."

Alec looked undaunted. "Well maybe there's another one."

"What are the mathematical odds of that, Alec?"

"h.e.l.l, Jackson. Who even knows? Who knows how many wolf Seers disappear every year because someone found out their precious blood had magic in it? Do you think Nick's sister would have made it to adulthood if their dad wasn't the Alpha? Besides, no one knows for sure how many cougars are out there. It's not impossible."

Before Jackson could reply, Mackenzie spoke. "I don't understand. What's a Seer? A psychic?"

Jackson held Alec's gaze for a couple more seconds and turned to her. "Most shapeshifters can't use other types of magic. Magic-the kind you'd think of-tends to override everything else. So when two shifters with a family history of magic have kids, sometimes there's a kid who seems like a regular shapeshifter...until the magic ability manifests. And they're..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "They've usually got more raw power in their pinkie toes than I've got in my whole d.a.m.n body."

"People kill them?" she asked, her face horrified.

"They're scared of them," Alec said softly. "Having that much power... There have been Seers in the past who've gone crazy from all that power, and done some horrific things."

Mackenzie's eyes went from Alec to Jackson. "You said Nick's got a sister who is one?"

"A twin," Jackson confirmed, hating the look on Mackenzie's face. "Her name is Mich.e.l.le, and Alec is right. They probably would have killed her already if John Peyton wasn't so powerful." He attempted a smile and failed miserably. "Just another of those injustices we were talking about yesterday."

"Mich.e.l.le's a good kid," Alec said firmly. "Maybe we should have Nick call her, ask if there are other Seers around. You'd think there'd be rumors."

"No," Jackson said, deep in thought. "Not yet. I need to get in touch with Mahalia. There's a friend of hers, a cougar, named Steven Donovan. I don't know how to contact him, but Mahalia would, and I..." He shrugged at Alec. "I don't want to call Mich.e.l.le unless-or until-we absolutely have to. There's just too much political maneuvering going on with those d.a.m.n wolves. No offense."

Alec just snorted. "Don't forget that you can't call her. Even if they let her talk to you, it could cause problems if spell casters from New Orleans started calling her. If they ever get even the slightest suspicion that she might not be loyal..."

Mackenzie made a disbelieving noise. "Are you honestly saying they would kill Nick's sister over a phone call?"

"Probably not." Alec didn't take his eyes off Jackson's face. "But it's not worth the risk. Have Nick call her if you have to."

"I'm not stupid enough to call Mich.e.l.le myself. I have half a brain in my head."

Alec's blunt words were upsetting Mackenzie even more. She'd gone from bouncing her foot to twisting Kat's chair back and forth, the movement bursting with nervous energy.

Her face was flushed, and her eyes widened when they met his. "I'm not feeling better anymore. I-I'm feeling worse."

He lowered his hand to her shoulder. "Antsy?"

"I can't sit still." The color in her cheeks deepened as she stared at her hands. "I feel-"

The bell above the front door interrupted her, the sound barely fading before Kat exclaimed, "Holy s.h.i.t."

Jackson groaned. "Kat, what the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" He was disconcerted, Mackenzie had some freakish nervous condition, and the last thing they needed was an empath running around the office, soaking up their bad vibes.

Alec was out of his chair before the door swung shut behind Kat. "C'mon, missy. You are getting out of here. Now."

Kat stared at Jackson, her eyes wide and face flushed, just like Mackenzie's. "Oh, my. I, um-"

Mackenzie hid her face with her hands as Alec bustled Kat out the front door. "f.u.c.k, she could feel that?"

Jackson stared at her, bewildered. "She's an empath. She could feel pretty much anything that you-" His eyes narrowed as he took in her embarra.s.sment and realization washed over him. "Oh. Oh."

"It started this afternoon," she admitted in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "Maybe the stress is getting to me. Or maybe it's s.e.xual frustration. But I really didn't want to share it with anyone else."

"Well..." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and tried not to sound too fl.u.s.tered. "What the... I mean, why're you...?"

Before she could reply, the front door opened again and Alec stuck his head in. "I need to talk to you, Holt. Now."

Jackson held up a hand, stammered an unintelligible noise at Mackenzie and followed Alec outside. "Look, whatever she's got going on, it isn't-"

Alec cut him off with an impatient gesture. "You can't sit around waiting for Mahalia to call back. You need to get Mackenzie in a car and start driving, now."

"What is it?"

His partner jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Kat, who sat on a bench across the street, looking shaken. "If she's feeling what Kat says she's feeling, that girl is a ticking time bomb. I'd wager that whatever has been keeping her from shifting all these years is starting to fail."

Jackson stared at him, confused. "That would make her h.o.r.n.y?"

Alec returned his stare evenly. "You really want to waste time on the dirty details of shapeshifting and the adrenaline rush that comes with it, or do you want to get that girl some d.a.m.n help? The longer you wait between changes, the harder it can be. Twenty-five years of it is something I don't really want to imagine."

He had a point. "Oh, Alec. Man, I am not the person to be handling this, not alone. I..." The words died on his tongue. He was nearly thirty d.a.m.n years old; was he really about to tell his partner he needed a chaperone in order to be able to keep his hands off Mackenzie? Instead, he swallowed. "Can I borrow your car?"

"Sure." Alec pulled the keys out of his pocket. "She's hot and you're interested, but this isn't the time to indulge, Jackson. s.e.x isn't going to make her feel better. In fact, it might make it a whole lot worse. If you have to, drug her a.s.s or use magic or something. It's for her own d.a.m.n good."

"Okay." Jackson took the keys, his mind whirling. "Get to Mahalia so she can bolster whatever is holding the cougar at bay, and absolutely no s.e.x." He sighed, but the sound held more than a little bit of a growl. "I hate life right now. I'll call you from the road."

Mackenzie resisted the urge to change positions again. It didn't help. Instead she wrapped her hands around the strap of her bag and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Jackson. Every time she did, the arousal that had been on low simmer all afternoon burst into full-on desire, and she could barely keep her hands to herself.

Even thinking about touching him made primal satisfaction unfurl slowly inside her. She stubbornly headed it off. "Can you explain this to me again?" she asked in a low voice, wrapping her fingers more tightly around her bag. "Maybe thinking will help. Or distract me."

"Explain what?" His eyes didn't leave the road. "The ants in your pants?"

She let out a strangled laugh. "That's one way to put it. You said Alec thinks it's some...spell or something?"

"Well, no. The spell would be what normally keeps you from getting this way." He checked his mirror and signaled to pa.s.s. "It's some sort of shapeshifter thing. The animal has to get out. When she doesn't, you get restless." He arched an eyebrow. "Sometimes really restless, I guess."

Mackenzie groaned as she slid lower in the seat and closed her eyes. Every instinct in her body screamed for action. Her vivid imagination provided endless scenarios for how she could soothe the hot need twisting her into knots. The scene unfolded behind her eyelids like an erotic movie-pulling off the road, finding someplace secluded... She could almost smell the clean scent of his skin, could imagine how it would feel under her lips when she slid into his lap and nuzzled her face into his neck.

The earlier fantasies of long, hot lovemaking vanished. The frantic need inside her would be satisfied by nothing less than equally frantic s.e.x. She wanted his hands and mouth on her skin, wanted to feel him writhing helplessly beneath her as she moved above him, driving them both into limp exhaustion.

A tiny whimper escaped as she fought back the image of his face, eyes hazy with pleasure and lips forming her name as she rode him to completion in the front seat of the car. "Oh, G.o.d. You have no idea how restless."

He shot her a sharp look. "I suppose I... Hey, how about some music?" He cranked up the volume on the radio, and a song with a low, throbbing beat spilled out of the speakers. He stared straight ahead as he stabbed a b.u.t.ton with his finger, changing the station to one featuring talk radio.

Mackenzie stared out the window into the night and took a deep breath. "I don't suppose you-I mean, it's a bit of an odd proposition, but would you consider-" She snarled. "The s.e.xual frustration is going to kill me."

Jackson reached for his phone, hit a b.u.t.ton and slapped it to his ear. After a moment, he said, "Yeah, it's me. Look, about what you said... Yeah, what can she do about that? You know, that won't-" He paused, obviously listening. "Yeah. Oh no, uh-uh. Okay, yeah. Later." He snapped the phone closed. "Sorry, no s.e.x. The bottom line is that you could die, and that would suck. You also can't take care of it yourself, because you could weaken the spell even further."

A tiny part of her curled in on itself in embarra.s.sment when she realized Jackson and Alec had just had a discussion about whether or not she could m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e. The rest of her just wondered if she could talk Jackson into taking the chance that she might not die.

"Jesus Christ." She closed her eyes again. "Can we pull over at the next town, maybe get some food? The close quarters aren't helping."

"Absolutely," he said immediately. "I think food is a great idea. We can walk around and stretch our legs too. Terrific idea, Mackenzie."

"Terrific idea," she agreed faintly. Except we're not even halfway there and I'm already losing my mind. It was going to be a very long night.

The diner was small and cozy, and looked to cater mostly to truckers. Their waitress showed them to a booth without a word, setting two menus down before returning unprompted with a pot of coffee.

Mackenzie glanced at it, but caffeine wasn't something she needed to add to her system. "Have you got any milkshakes?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure, honey. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Vanilla, please." She glanced across the booth at Jackson. "You drinking coffee?"

"Yeah. Got a lot of driving to do if we want to make it to Boca anytime soon." He favored the waitress with a smile as he turned over his mug. "Fill 'er up, darlin', and I'll have an omelet as big as my head, with bacon, peppers and cheese, please."

The waitress's bored expression melted into an answering smile as she filled Jackson's cup, Mackenzie apparently forgotten. She seemed terribly impressed by Jackson's easy smile, and set aside the coffee pot as she jotted down his order. "Anything else with that, sweetheart? Sausage? Pancakes? We got some of the best m.u.f.fins in the state here, if I do say so myself. Bake 'em fresh every night."

"He said he wants an omelet." At first, Mackenzie didn't even realize she'd spoken. Her voice barely sounded like her own, low and dangerous with a hint of menace. Color flooded her cheeks, and she avoided Jackson's eyes, wishing she could sink into the booth and disappear.

Jackson choked on his coffee, but recovered quickly enough to throw his head back with a laugh. "Now, now, sweet tart, I'll stick to my low-carb diet, but the nice lady's just doing her job." His smile turned sheepish. "That's what I get for marrying a health nut, I guess."

The woman turned back to Mackenzie, her expression cool. "And what would you like with your milkshake, ma'am?"

The urge to snarl at her again was so overwhelming Mackenzie dug her teeth into her lip and flashed Jackson a pleading look.

"She'll have a couple of those m.u.f.fins," he said quickly. "d.a.m.n hypocrite's what she is, huh?"