Page 51 of Fated Moons
Though, Jackson thought he saw the corner of the prince’s mouth turn upward.
Wishful thinking.
“I didn’t get a good look,” Decker said, leaning back in his chair. “Just as I saw her, a light-green cloudlike puff, similar to the northern lights, covered the house outside whatever that protective thing is that Prince Albert cast.”
“In private, please call me Albert.”
Decker sat up taller. Most of their lives, once people heard their last name, they treated them with kid gloves, staying aloof and keeping their distance.
“I called… Albert… when we lost chase of the witch.” Decker stared into his mug as if it were his safe haven.
“I was already on my way over about something else.” Alfred crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“What’s that, Dad?” Amanda asked.
Jackson reached behind her, letting his hand rest against the small of her back.
“One thing at a time,” Albert said. His dark eyes had softened, turning a lighter, less intense black.
Jackson felt a bit of a kinship toward the man, but again, something else he couldn’t explain.
“The color of the fog is important,” Albert said. “Like Jackson, I had concerns that perhaps any faction of the royal bloodline could be responsible for either spell that has plagued Jackson for most of his life. The green glow confirms those suspicions.”
“No,” Amanda whispered, letting her body lean into him. “I can’t imagine anyone in our family?—”
Her father held up his hand. “Dark green would have meant the culprit would have been me or your sisters. Light green, what Decker describes, means anyone who has our bloodline. Aunts and uncles. Second cousins. A few outcast witches we haven’t talked to or seen in years.” Albert raised his mug to his lips, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a large gulp.
“You mentioned the Book of Shadows has only been seen by the council and your family,” Jackson said, trying to pull up everything he could remember about the witch council, but he knew almost nothing.
“Everyone on the council has royal blood. They are either my aunts and uncles, great aunts and uncles, cousins, or second cousins. This gives us twenty-nine suspects.” Albert set his mug on the granite countertop. “I’ve made a list and we can go over them, but I want to discuss the unlucky spell first.”
“What about it?” Jackson curled his fingers around Amanda’s hip. The heat radiating from her body gave him a sense of strength he’d never felt before.
And then there was the fairy dust that left her body and attached to his like some protective shield. He wasn’t about totry to figure it out at this point. They were connected. They were soulmates. Destined to be together.
“I had my secretary dig into your background and analyze your life?—”
“Why?” Jackson bit down on his tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was be disrespectful, but he hated it when people dissected his life. Analyzed his every decision.
“You were the industry's golden child until about a year after your Oscar win. Your father didn’t impact you professionally until that point in your career, other than the occasional mention here and there. Mostly, it was little unlucky things that happened to you. Bad reviews. Being passed over for a role. Some bad money investments, but it all adds up to a bad luck spell.”
“My entire life, my father has had a negative impact. When I was younger, people might have felt sorry for me, but they were still aloof and didn’t treat me or my family respectfully. It got worse when I got my DUI. Everyone decided I wasn’t much different than my father.” Jackson’s stomach churned with the memory of cold, metal cuffs clamping over his wrists. He’d had two beers at a party, and not half a mile from the club, he got pulled over by a cocky police officer with an axe to grind.
Jackson didn’t fight taking the breathalyzer, stunned that he was indeed over the legal limit. He wondered if anyone had spiked his drink because he felt fine. Not even a little woozy. At the time, he’d maintained that it was all a setup, but he still had his license suspended for six months and had to perform community service.
“That’s just it, son. I rewatched the footage of both of your arrests and other things, and I can see the effects of the spell. That cop acted so differently around you than he did other people. The man you hit? I watched you turn and take two steps in the other direction before nailing the guy in the nose.”
“He did call my sister and mother some horrible names.” Jackson’s gut tightened. He remembered pausing and clenching his fists when the asshole hurled the insults, but Jackson had every intention of walking away. The one thing he had learned from the old man was that violence got you nowhere, fast.
But for whatever reason, he couldn’t resist the urge to crack his knuckles against another man’s bones.
“Are you a heavy drinker?” Albert asked the question with great authority in his voice.
“No, not really. But I enjoy a good bottle of wine and like my beer now and then,” Jackson said, swallowing the lump in his throat.
He pulled his hand from behind Amanda’s back.
“Feel like taking a drink now?”
