When we magical folks had come forward generations ago, it had started with a bit of a slow roll. First were shifters, then cryptids, then the witches and others who had much more religious prejudice against them. Oracles, fortune tellers, and soothsayers had been part of that final group.
So yes, psychics were a legitimate magical species, but there were so many pretenders that even magical folks doubted when someone claimed they had such abilities. And although Opheliahad been popular enough to have her own magazine spread, her heyday had been in the time of our parents, and maybe Luther and Chris’s. Jackson, who was more than a decade younger than Luther, wouldn’t have heard of her, so it was understandable that he’d doubt her legacy. For once, he was being rather sensible.
Too bad he’d chosen to be sensible at the most inconvenient time. Why couldn’t he show such discernment when deciding which Instagram model to fly out to his penthouse? That would save me so much time from having our legal department whip up yet another NDA so no embarrassing stories or photos were revealed later.
Maybe my brother needed therapy. We’d all been in it for a while after Mom died, and I definitely thought we should all go again to deal with what had just happened in our home, but I couldn’t help but think that maybe my youngest brother would benefit from a more hands-on CBT.
And by that, I meant cognitive behavioral therapy, not the type of CBT he got up to with the Instagram models.
Gross. That could be added to my ever-lengthening list of things I didn’t want to think about in context with any of my younger siblings. Or my older one at that.
“I mean, it’s a lot harder for humans to pretend to be a shifter than it is for them to pretend to be psychic. Then there are the witches and other people who have also claimed to have abilities that they couldn’t,” Jackson said in a rather lovely tone, and I wondered, not for the first time, how much of his flippancy was an act rather than him being particularly unintelligent.
“Fair enough,” Cherry said. “But I’m not asking any money for this. So, if I’m a scammer, I’m a piss-poor one.”
“Or what you’re after isn’t money.”
Cherry opened her mouth as if she was going to shoot something right back, but she suddenly stiffened, her spinegoing ramrod straight. I could smell the spike in her pheromones almost instantly: sulfur and acid with sharp notes of adrenaline. “Jackson, you need to get out of your place and come here right now.”
Her tone wasn’t the low, possessed kind, but it was far more serious than I had heard her outside of a vision.
Of course, my little brother just chuckled. “Look, if you’d like to ask for my company, there are much less dramatic ways to?—”
Suddenly, Cherry ripped my phone out of my hand and put it close to her face.“Jackson VanMarche, someone is in your apartment, and they mean to harm you.”
Alarm shot through me. I shot to my feet and snatched my phone back. “Jackson! I don’t care if you think this is stupid, you get out of there right now! I’m sending extra security and you better call yours!” I looked at Chris. “Make sure whoever we have on call is headed there right now.”
“On it!”
“Guys,” Jackson said, still chuckling, but much more nervously than before. “Do you really think?—”
“Look, Jackie, maybe Cherry is lying to us and working a con, but there’s no way in hell I’m taking that risk. Get out of there. And if security finds nothing, you have my permission to mock Chris and me from here to eternity, more than you already do. But I’m not letting anything happen to you, do you understand me?”
I didn’t realize it, but I was already halfway to the garage, my keys in hand. I couldn’t quite remember pulling them out of my pocket, but I was glad at my quick reaction.
Chris was already right behind me as I entered the car, on the phone and yelling at security. I glanced at my phone screen, pleased to see Jackson was grabbing his keys and portable charger to go.
That relief vanished when there was a thud, and suddenly my brother dropped the phone.
“Jackie!” I cried, staring at the closeup view of his expensive tile floor. “Jackie! Hang in there! We’re on our way!”
I heard more crashing sounds and punches being thrown, then finally some growling before the back door of my car opened and Cherry practically jumped into the seat.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, looking at me with those wide, mismatched eyes of hers. “Pedal to the metal, man!”
I couldn’t agree with her more. Thankfully, my brother had pressed the button on the sensor clipped to my sun visor, and the garage door was already halfway open. I floored it and just barely missed scraping the roof of my car as we flew out of the garage.
I broke more than a few speed limits as I drove—it was a miracle we didn’t get pulled over—but I could still hear the faint sounds of a struggle as we pulled up in front of Jackson’s building and parked illegally. My car was barely out of traffic, but it would have to do. We all barreled out and ran through the front entrance. The doorman didn’t stop us, likely recognizing me from my many times being there to clean up my brother’s various escapades or act as a particularly hostile alarm clock. As Cherry and Chris went to the elevator, I chose to run up the stairs.
I was a wolf, after all.
As I burst through the door to the stairwell, I shifted, calling upon a form that I rarely used. Mother had always encouraged us to shift more, to spend as much time wild as we did civilized, but with my lifestyle, I found myself using my canid form less and less.
Clearly, that was about to change. I bounded up the stairs, flying over several at a time, my paws striking with certainty even as my dewclaws clicked harshly against the concrete. Onewould have thought that such an expensive (I would know since the rent for it came out of our family’s finances) high rise would have fancier stairwells, but then again, I doubted any of their residents ever used them. They would probably rent a jet-pack to get down to the ground floor before using the stairs if there was an emergency.
But I ran. And ran. Andran. My lungs were beginning to ache. I looked at the floor number as I ascended yet another set of stairs, sure I had to be there by now.
Floor twenty-seven.