Feral Heat
Page 22

“What about you?” Deni asked. Jace was shaking, but his hold on her was strong.
“I’ll be okay.” Jace took a long breath and pulled her into a tighter hug. His bare c**k touched her abdomen. “I get it now—what you must go through when you start losing track of who you are. I shouldn’t have made light of it.”
Deni looked up at him in alarm. “Are you losing track of who you are?”
“Not quite.” Jace kissed her hair and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “But almost. You keep reminding me who I am, though, all right?”
* * *
“They’re looking for someone,” Dylan said when they emerged upstairs.
They spoke in the kitchen, where the windows were high, small, curtained, and looked out to the backyard. The wide windows of the bungalow’s living room were out of bounds.
Jace didn’t like human police roving Shiftertown, but right now, his body hummed from the nearness of Deni, and the remembered joy of being in her one more time.
He loved the sweetness of her scent, today coupled with fresh earth from her digging in the dirt. The taste of her filled him like heady wine. He was imprinted with her now, the feel of her soft thighs against his legs, the way she squeezed him when he pressed inside her.
“Jace?” Deni said.
She wasn’t trying to get his attention, he realized after a heartbeat. She was asking Dylan if Jace was the Shifter the police were looking for.
“They didn’t say,” Dylan answered. “I don’t even know if they’re looking for a Shifter. They had a tip-off, I got one of the officers to tell me, about the fight club. I told them there’s always rumors of a Shifter fight club, because humans find it titillating. Same as rumors of Shifter hookers.”
Shifter women never sold sex, never had. But Shifter women could be promiscuous, because Shifters didn’t find sex shameful. As long as a Shifter was unmated, they could have as many partners as they wanted. Not all liked to go roaming, but some Shifter women spread it around. Humans confused that with the sex trade; hence, the rumors.
“Tip-off from a human?” Ellison asked.
“They wouldn’t tell me that.” Dylan’s eyes glinted. “What Shifter would betray us?”
Ellison shrugged. “One pissed off for some reason. At other Shifters, or at you. Broderick springs to mind.”
“He sprang to my mind too. I’ll be having a talk with him.” Dylan’s Irish accent made the words sound casual, but Jace heard the steel behind them.
“If they’re going door-to-door, what about the workshop?” Jace asked.
Dylan shook his head. “They haven’t found it yet. Lie low here, and I’ll send for you when it’s clear. If it is.” Dylan looked Jace up and down. “We might want to stop the experiment anyway. It’s affecting you.”
“Agreed,” Deni said quickly.
Jace shook his head. “No, we’ll never get the Collars off by being afraid to have them off. I want to keep at it.” It was tempting to turn his back on the agony, and Sean with his soldering iron, and run for home, but learning all they could about the Collars was too important. Besides, Deni was here.
“We’ll see.” Dylan gave him another hard look. Jace knew his display on the porch had not won him any favors from Dylan, but Jace had definitely not liked Dylan touching Deni, even innocently.
“Why did you want me to meet you at the fight club?” Jace asked him. “I could have come to Shiftertown and waited for you.”
Dylan’s face shuttered. “For reasons that are no longer important. Don’t leave this house until I let you know it’s all right. Catch up on sleep or something.” Dylan glanced from Jace to Deni. “I mean real sleep.”
Jace didn’t bother to answer. Deni went pink, but only because Ellison was rolling his eyes.
* * *
Ellison agreed that Jace could stay downstairs until Dylan gave the all clear. Safer, he said, in case the cops tried to surprise them. Police had been known to walk right into Shifter houses, the rules about warrants being a little relaxed when Shifters were concerned.
Deni was glad Ellison shared her worry for Jace, though Ellison was a bit grumpy about it. Finding Jace and Deni in flagrante hadn’t been the highlight of his day, he said.
“It’s not like I’ve never come home to you and Maria in the living room,” Deni reminded him.
Ellison gave her an innocent look. “That’s different.”
“My ass,” Deni said, sending him a smile.
“I know it was, and I don’t want to see it again,” Ellison said. “Or Jace’s. Yetch.”
At least he was teasing now, even if he was annoyed.
When Will and Jackson returned home—Jackson worked for a moving company and Will at a warehouse; humans liked Shifter strength—Ellison apprised them of the situation. Maria, now growing plump with Ellison’s first cub, was home by that time too. She was taking classes at a community college in preparation for entering the university next year and spent the rest of her day taking care of Shifter cubs. Maria had lost the haunted look she’d worn since she’d been rescued, and Ellison had lost his look of deep loneliness. Now if Deni could just lose hers.
They played video games in the basement, Jace proving to be very good at them. Will, who was turning out to be a computer genius, had a hard time keeping up with him.
Deni worried that the games might start drawing out Jace’s feral anger, but they didn’t. Maybe knowing it wasn’t real, only pixels on a screen, made a difference. Deni was never upset by the games either. But then, games had no scent, no texture. Shifters were more stimulated by things that assaulted all the senses at once.
By the time Will and Jackson went to bed, they’d expressed more respect for Jace. He might be twenty years older, but his knowledge of games and computer programming helped him rise in their estimation.
Before Deni could start arguing with Ellison that she wanted to stay downstairs and sleep with Jace, Sean arrived at the back door to tell them the police had gone, had been for several hours.
“But we wanted to wait until we were certain,” Sean said, lounging against the kitchen doorframe, his sword gleaming under the porch light. “Didn’t want them doubling back and saying just fooling.” He glanced at Jace, who stood behind Ellison, Jace conceding Ellison’s place to guard the house. “You ready for more torture, lad?”