Shifting Life

11. Responsibility

"What's the word out there?" the Venetian asked.

Jojo peered at Jacklyn in the rear view mirror, his thoughtful gaze lingering while he continued, "Rumor has it, Pantzer pulled a fast one and the Venetian got killed. The white lady sent the cavalry to deal with Pantzer. The cavalry went to town and now Pantzer's place is rubble. Everyone is waiting for the white lady to return the mirror coat to the Visionary."

Jojo craned his neck to send a dark glare Jacklyn's way.

"The white lady never told anyone she had cavalry," he said. "It changes things."

Jacklyn opened her mouth to speak, but the thief put his warm hand over hers and squeezed. She got the message.

"Cavalry?"  said Matt.

Jojo sighed. "Like you don't know what I'm talking about. There were witnesses around Pantzer's shop. Mostly homeless drunks and addicts, but still. A huge black horse from hell makes for a good tale. People are yapping. Add that to what happened to Pantzer..."

"What happened to Pantzer?" Jacklyn asked.

"He got his face kicked in. By a horse judging from the injury. Died on the way to the hospital."

The thief took her hand in his and held on to it. She was grateful for the gesture. She'd killed a man and hadn't even known she'd hit him.

Jojo turned in his seat to look at her.

"Good riddance," he said.

Jojo leaned a little closer, staring at her face. "Is that a birthmark between your brows?"

He reached out like he wanted to touch it. Jacklyn caught his wrist. He pressed on, using all his force. She held his wrist still in a steely grip and didn't give an inch.

"You're strong for a woman," he said and pulled his hand back.

"What about the other thing?" said the thief. "Heard anything?"

"Nothing, but it's only a matter of time. You stole from the Visionary."

"I didn't know. Until two days ago, magic was just your fairy tales. I thought it was a regular job."

"And then you did your trademark thing. I get it. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're in? When the Visionary hear you're still breathing, he'll send an army after you. But not just you. When he finds out the white lady is protecting you, controlling his things—"

"She's not."

"But that what it looks like, Matt. They hate each other. You gave him just cause to go after her. There will be war."

"I'll fix it."

"How?"

"The less you know, the better."

Jojo pursed his lips. He turned around and pushed a button on the dashboard. The trunk opened.

They got out of the car.

Jojo pulled out two black canvas bags. He put them on the ground. He held out his hand. Matt shook it.

"Damn it," said Jojo and hugged him. "You're a good guy, Matt. You're an idiot, but you're a good guy."

Jojo let go. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"Good luck," he said and got into the Subaru.

Matt looked after the red tail lights till they were gone, shoulders slumping, head low.

"Veronica said magic has one simple rule," Jacklyn began. "You mess up, you fix it—"

Then she remembered the rest and wished she hadn't said anything.

"Why do I get the sense there's more?" he said. "Come on."

"Or pay the price."

He smirked. "That's more like the stories I've heard."

Matt looked at the two canvas bags, hands deep in his pockets.

"There was a metal object in the pocket when I gave you the coat. It's called the Iron Heart," he said, glancing her way. "It's wasn't there when I checked. Do you know where Veronica took it?"

"She doesn't know about it," said Jacklyn. "I had a bad feeling and I hid it in—"

He kissed her quiet.

"It's better if I don't know," he said before kissing her again. His lips stayed on hers and some part of her was fine with never speaking another word.

He pulled back a fraction, his lips brushing hers. His eyes glittered dangerously. Like he was testing her. Like he'd kiss her harder if she dared to speak.

Jacklyn leaned in a little closer. Her hand found its way inside his coat, the shape of his curved chest warm under her palm. She parted her lips under his and closed her eyes.

His hand gently cupped the back of her head and then he kissed her again.

She felt herself melt under his touch. Too much, too fast, too many feels she'd lose control over the more she caved to senses and emotions.

He pulled back again, just out of reach, like he sensed she was holding back.

She knew right then he wasn't the kind of guy who'd let her get away it.

"Hey," he whispered softly in her ear, "I want this."

He was no liar, but the truth was dangerous.

The truth was too hot to handle.

He kissed her because she was weird and rare.

He liked it.

Jacklyn snaked her arm around his neck and pulled him in. She kissed him deep, hard and hungry. She couldn't get enough of the taste of him. Jacklyn hadn't kissed anyone since she started shifting. She didn't trust herself. She didn't know who, or what she was. She'd been afraid to find out. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel every expanded, shifting sense. The sound of his short breaths, the sight of his face, his scent, the taste of his lips, skin and tongue and the faint stubble of his cheek rubbing against hers wasn't enough. She craved more and showed it.

He responded in kind, a hand on the small of her back drawing her closer, the other grabbing a fistful of her hair. He firmly pulled her head back so he could kiss her better.

Over and over, till she was breathless and liquid and lost.

Finally, he let go and took a step back.

Jacklyn shifted her weight from foot to foot, too jittery to stand still.

Something was changing. She sensed the emotional ground shifting between them. New territory, strong, but with treacherous tides.

"You saved my life," he said with an expression she couldn't read. "You know what that means?"

"You owe me?" she said softly.

He smiled, shaking his head. "You're responsible for me."