Oxford Shadows (15 page)

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Authors: Marion Croslydon

BOOK: Oxford Shadows
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“I can’t deal with this right now.” She buried her face in her hands, rubbed her itchy eyes and let out a groan of frustration. “I need help. From both of you. I can’t let anyone else die like Pippa.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Whether it was PMS or she was turning into a wimp, she didn’t know. Crying with an audience was so not her, but it was the second time in two days she had performed the same show.
Pathetic.

Jackson gently took hold of her shoulders. The pressure of his fingers softened the turmoil inside her. He bent down so that their eyes met. “That wasn’t your fault.”

No matter how many times she heard the same words, she would never believe them. She shook her head.

Her aunt butted in. “You can’t trust him, Madison.”

The warning startled Madison, but only managed to stir her blood. “Jackson has been there for me every step of the way. You’ll have to get used to him because he’s staying in my life.”

Normally Madison would never have dreamed of talking back to her aunt. Her mom yes, all the time, but her aunt no. Bernadette would take it with a shrug and give it straight back, but Louise was the sole figure of authority in Madison’s life. Shoving it in her face was a big deal.

A muffled vibration echoed throughout the room and sliced through the tension. Jackson pulled his cell out of the front pocket of his jeans and checked the caller ID. A crease appeared between his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I have to take this call.”

When he left the room, Madison marched straight to her aunt. “Why are you doing this to me? I have a life here, people who love me. You want me to end up totally alone again. Sam, Rupert, now Jackson … you’re on a mission.”

Louise winced and fingered the cross hanging from her neck. “That’s not true.” Her voice broke. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By vacuuming my friends out of my life?”

“By discouraging those who have ulterior motives.”

“That’s insane.”

“If you don’t believe me, then check his desk drawer.” Louise nodded toward the solid desk that stood in the opposite corner.

“I’m not going to invade his privacy.”

“He has no concern for yours.”

Madison felt a furrow wrinkling her own forehead.

“Go on. Check what he keeps inside. You’ll thank me afterwards.”

Louise’s confidence unsettled Madison, whose gaze was now on the piece of furniture she hadn’t paid much attention to until then. She shouldn’t, she
really
shouldn’t. Foraging in Jackson’s papers had misled her once before.

Shame wrapped around her heart when she headed toward the desk anyway. She hated herself for giving more weight to her aunt’s word than to Jackson’s. Her shaking fingers pulled the central drawer open to reveal a stack of black-and-white photographs. She took them out. One of her hands flew to cover her mouth while her eyes were glued to the picture on top of the pile. Quickly she flicked through the dozen or so shots taken with a long lens. They were surveillance pictures.

“It’s not what you think.” Jackson stood on the doorstep between the kitchen and the living room. “It’s not what it looks like.” With a few quick paces, he narrowed the distance between them.

“It’s exactly what it looks like. These are all pictures of me.”

20

SO NOW YOU understand why I had to step in.” Louise’s tone had a big fat “I told you so” about it.

Madison’s heart filled with misery. “Please, go outside. I’ll come out soon,” she ordered her aunt, who nodded in reply.

When the door clicked shut, the words seeped out of Madison’s voice with a tremble. “I trusted you. I thought you’d turned the page on your feelings …” She threw the pictures back on the desk and spun around to get back her self-control.

Jackson stood in front of her, reaching out to cradle her face. “No, it has nothing to do with my feelings …” He blinked and stopped the track of his speech. “There are so many other things you don’t know. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“By spying on me?”

Why were all the men in her life bordering on cavemen or psychos? Jackson reached for her but she pushed him away.

“Or maybe you hired someone to do your dirty work.”

The shots had been taken over the last week. During the cricket match with Rupert and Monty; when she had been jogging and had the fake fight with Sam; even her shopping for condoms at Boots.
How freaking embarrassing.

“That’s my job.”

Her mouth slackened. She did a double take and exploded. “Your
job
is to tutor me in art history and not to stalk me and indulge in your taste for clueless college girls.”

He flinched and his shoulders drooped. “Don’t say that. Don’t make my feelings for you look so … dirty.”

“You said that we would start from scratch, that you would try and be my friend. You
have
a girlfriend. Elizabeth …” At least he had sex with her.

Was he in love with her? Is that what he had meant to say? Madison had assumed he was attracted to her, maybe infatuated, but in love … no way. Jackson was so mature, together and waspy. She was, well, she was none of the above.

He cast his gaze downward and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m trying to …”

He lifted his head back up to stare at her. “Believe me, Madison, I’m trying to be who you need me to be.” His voice trailed off and his brown eyes glistened.

His hurt made her heart sink. She had never really bothered about Jackson’s feelings for her. Pippa had accused her of leading him on, but Madison had swept her reproach aside. She had needed him by her side and ignored what he might have needed from her. But no,
no
, she wasn’t the guilty one here.

“That”—she pointed to the pictures on top of the desk—“is you trying to be who I need you to be? I don’t need a perv in my close circle of friends.”

“The surveillance has nothing to do with me being in lo—” He stopped abruptly, let out a frustrated groan and shoved the chair away.

Jackson didn’t lose his temper. Like, never.

“Believe me when I say that I want to keep you safe. I might not be family, but …” Another unfinished sentence. He pushed his hand through his thick black hair. “I have to go back to the U.S. That was the call I just took. Something came up and I have to fly to Boston tomorrow. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I don’t want to see you.” Madison walked around the desk. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Don’t do this, Madison, please. I’ll explain everything to you when I’ve sorted out this mess back home. Give me a chance.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? Having me under surveillance calls for some serious explanations.”

“I’d like to tell you, but it’s not up to me. Please trust me and wait a few more weeks.”

“I can’t, sorry.”

She didn’t want Jackson out of her life, but her aunt was right. He had his own agenda and he wasn’t ready to come clean. She waved her hands when he stepped toward her. Nothing he said could justify his breach of trust and the photos he had of her. Her shaking legs managed to carry her out to the porch of his Victorian house. There she muffled a sob, rushed down the steps and passed by her aunt, pushing Louise away when she tried to stop her.

“I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news.”

Spinning around to face her aunt, Madison almost barked.

“Really? Because from where I stand, you seem to enjoy the whole process of getting rid of the people I care for, one by one. Who’s next? Ollie?”

“I want you to be happy. The Lord is my witness. I’ve always wanted you to find happiness despite our family … history. But, right now, what matters to me is for you to stay alive. Danger is everywhere.”

Fear struck Madison and she started to scan her surroundings. The night permeated the driveway, and the street beyond glimmered in the silver glow of the moon. Shadows appeared, flickered and vanished. She could smell threat in the air. Fighting off the paranoia, she shook herself.

“Stop putting ideas like that in my head. I already have to worry about Camilla and the baby. And I’m not sure I’m strong, gifted or plain smart enough to protect them.” Based on the results of her latest spirit calling, she felt completely out of her depth.

Her aunt’s brow arched and she lowered her voice. “You want to help them? Really help them?”

“Of course I do.”

“I know people who can help you with that. People who understand your powers, who know where they come from.” Louise took hold of Madison’s hand and squeezed it.

The soft pressure opened Madison. “You mean Aurélie.”

Her aunt nodded. “She’ll help you understand your powers better.
All
your powers …”

“What do you mean by that?” Madison was immediately suspicious. She had never mentioned the fireballs and book-lifting thing to her aunt.

“Aurélie thinks you can be more powerful than any women in our lineage so far. Your abilities might be much broader.” The truth must have shown all over Madison’s face because her aunt added, “But maybe you already know about them …”

Madison knew she couldn’t avoid the little “calling” chat any longer.

 

Rupert crashed on his couch and switched on the flat-screen TV that hung on the opposite wall of the living room. He flicked through channels and settled on a reality TV show. He hated reality TV with a vengeance, but it would have to do. Throwing the remote onto the glass coffee table, he leaned against the leather back of the Chippendale, stretched and knotted his hands behind his head. He had to stop thinking about Madison and Buffalo Bill and kick his jealousy to the curb.

His cell sat on the coffee table next to the remote control. His fingers tingled. He wanted to call her, check on her … apologize. Apologize for what? For stepping in when a guy twice her size went all kung fu on her? What else was he supposed to do? Clear his throat and politely ask if Sam would be so kind as to let her go?

Of course, if Madison agreed to move in with him, even for a limited time, this kind of misunderstanding wouldn’t happen. But she had laughed at his offer. Harriet had wanted half of his closet one week into their relationship. Madison didn’t even “forget” her toothbrush at his place. She always paid her half of everything and didn’t let him spoil her the way she deserved to be spoiled.

“Shit!” Rupert jumped to his feet. He needed to exercise, run, box, row … do
something
. But at nine P.M. the gym was closed and he hated running in the dark.

The doorbell rang and covered the mindless talk of the reality TV stars. Not Harriet again. She had paid him several “impromptu” visits since he had come back from spring break: a champagne bottle that she didn’t want to drink on her own; a cooked dinner she had prepared for him and Monty … Each time, Rupert had cut short her stay and not always with a believable excuse. After the Turf, she should have understood he was so not interested anymore. What would it be this time? Did she need his help to fix her suspenders?

He shook his head. Preparing himself for a slut attack, he opened the door wide and stood legs apart.

Jackson McCain.

Annoyance boiled up inside Rupert, followed by fear. “Has something happened to Madison?” The American wouldn’t pay him a nighttime visit unless something was wrong. The only thing they had in common, the only person they cared for—loved—was Madison.

“Not yet. We need to talk.”

McCain stepped inside the house without an invitation and headed to the living room. He had been here once before and the meeting hadn’t gone well. Rupert followed him, already double-clenching jaw and fists. When the professor spun around in the center of the room, hands on his hips, Rupert grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

“I have to leave Oxford,” Jackson said. “I’m on the first Boston flight from Heathrow tomorrow morning. My father was in a car crash. He’s in a critical condition.”

Car crash, injured parents … Rupert knew all about that. Sympathy tugged at his heart. “I’m sorry, mate.” And he truly was. “But how does it involve Madison?”

“I won’t be here to look after her.”

The guy was so full of shit. Did McCain assume he was the only one looking after Madison, the only one able to? Rupert wanted McCain to know he wasn’t totally clueless anymore. “I know about the Greensleeves ghost, about … Henry the Eighth.” God, had he
really
said that?

“Unfortunately there’s more. Even worse things are going on.”

The fear Rupert had tasted one minute ago shot back and twisted his gut. “What’s going on?”

McCain started pacing the width of the wooden floor, his hands buried in the front pockets of his jeans. “Her aunt’s connections aren’t as commendable as you’d expect from an Ursuline nun.”

Louise? A danger? “She doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of connections. The woman is one of the least friendly people I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t fall for it. She knows more about Madison’s powers than her grandmother does. Louise is grooming Madison to become the most powerful priestess in the LeBon line. And the family has already provided two voodoo queens to New Orleans.”

Rupert rocked on his heels and pretended to study the floor. “Grooming? Louise took Madison to boarding school with her and helped her get into Yale. That’s it.”

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