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“It’s fine, I know you don’t feel the same.” He squeezed my shoulders and took a step back. “I just wanted to make sure you were in one piece after you went to the market. I’ve seen you, you’re okay. So, I’m gonna go. I’ll email you the things I found on Nadia’s computer, and we can talk about them in the morning.”
“Don’t go,” I whispered.
“What?”
I wanted to throw my arms around him, tell him I loved him too, but that wouldn’t get us anywhere. Instead, I stood up and hobbled a few steps towards the annex. “Come with me. I need to put this stone back in its holster, and we need to go over what you found.”
“What happened to you? Are you alright?”
“That’s a loaded question.” After everything that happened with Matteo, my body felt like a two-ton weight had settled on my shoulders. I wanted to sleep for a week, but we had a killer to catch. I owed it to Nadia and Viktor. I also owed it to Jackson. They’d used his face. They made me question his loyalty, if only for a moment. Who knows what else they’d done in his name? I had to find that shapeshifter.
The pressure of Jackson’s attention never wavered from my back as he followed me into the annex. I could feel him waiting for some sign that I was not okay. But I made it down the steps and placed the teleportation stone back in its cradle without a problem.
When I turned around, he stood with his back to the fire, clutching a familiar leather messenger bag. The same one I’d taken Nadia’s books from when I left him at the curb. The sight of him so close to where his doppelganger stood made my heart waver, but his posture was different this time. Comparing the two now, I knew it in my bones that the figure in the vision wasn’t him. That version of Jackson was so distant. This one leaned towards me with every inch of his body. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes shone with worry. This was the Jackson that I loved.
“Sit, take a load off,” I said, gesturing to his favorite chair.
He shook his head and turned towards my workspace. “I need a place to lay out what I found. Let’s use the table.”
My heart leapt into my throat as he stopped beside the drink cart and squared his shoulders, his spine straightening bone by bone. I bit my lip. “Jack, I haven’t had a drink since I went to the morgue. I swear.”
I wasn’t counting the absinthe I’d consumed with Matteo. His spell burned through that faster than flash paper goes up in smoke.
“Don’t mind me,” he said. “Just reigning in the urge to lecture.”
“So, what’d you find on her computer?” I asked, offering him a distraction, skirting around the table. I hooked my foot around the stool and gestured for him to sit.
He shook his head and cleared some space on the other side. “You sit. I’ve got pictures for you to look at.”
“Okay,” I frowned, sinking down onto my stool. I didn’t like how he saidpictures. It wasn’t just me and my trip to the market that put him on edge, something he’d found was bothering him.
Dropping his bag on the floor, Jackson pulled an inch-thick manila envelope from inside, a stack of eight by ten photographs and a couple pieces of paper. “These are just copies of things we found on Nadia’s hard drive.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Pictures?”
“Pictures of you.”
“What?” I blinked at his hand a few times and then snatched the photos from him. My eyes scanned the first image in confusion and then the next five in rapid succession.
Theywerepictures of me. Pictures of me walking down the street, of me eating food from one of the trucks parked down the road. There were even pictures of me talking with clients inside my office.
“How did she—How many of these are there?” I gaped at him.
“About two hundred. From what I could see, she’s been following you around for about a month and a half. But not all of those photos are time-stamped.”
“How did I not notice this?” I asked, flipping through another handful of pictures.
“The worst ones are towards the end. She’s got some shots through your bedroom window, too.”
“Remind me to close my curtains.”
“Ditto,” he snorted. “When did you first meet Nadia? Did something happen between you two?”
“Not that I know of,” I said. “The day she walked into my office was the first time I’d ever met her. I mean, we could have crossed paths somewhere before that, but I don’t remember it. There are apparently a lot of things I don’t remember these days.”
“Actually, now that you mention it, let me see that stack,” he said, holding out his hand. “There are a couple of pictures that I think might be important."
I gave him the stack and turned my attention to the papers. They were Nadia’s phone records and her search history, all typed up into two neat lists. Jackson had gone through and highlighted my phone number, but I didn’t recognize any of the others. The second list was far more interesting. Her computer was a string of Wiccan message boards, library reference sites, and private messaging servers. All connected to a single topic. Cassandra’s Curse.
