Feral Heat
Page 29
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From beyond them, Dylan cleared his throat, the sound rolling from the edge of the grove. Jace broke the kiss, lifting slowly away from Deni. His green eyes held anguish. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” Deni fumbled with the catch of her bracelet, an old-fashioned clasp. The bracelet had been in her family for so long, no one remembered where it had come from. She took off the bracelet and pressed it into Jace’s hand. “Keep this for me. Bring it back to me.”
Jace started to shake his head. “It’s special to you, I can tell.”
“It is. But if I know you have it, that will be special too.”
Jace hesitated another moment, then he closed his fingers around it. “I’ll keep it safe. I promise.”
Deni nodded. She stepped back from him and clasped her hands. “The Goddess go with you.”
“No.” Jace reached for her once more, his arms coming hard around her. “That’s what you say to someone you’ll never see again.”
His kiss was fierce, wild. Deni held on to Jace and kissed him back with as much force, her heart pounding and aching.
At last Jace eased away, and Deni made herself let him go. Jace laid his hand on her chest, between her br**sts.
“Be well, my heart,” he said, then he turned and walked away, following Dylan into the Texas dawn.
* * *
There was no question of Deni coming with Jace to the plane. Jace understood—the fewer Shifters who left Shiftertown the better.
Jace hunkered down with a bunch of junk in the bed of Dylan’s small pickup, and Dylan tied a tarp over it all. Then Dylan drove out of Shiftertown without ceremony, heading east along the Bastrop Highway.
After a long time, Dylan took a turn off the main road, pulled over, and lifted the tarp. The road was deserted, and Jace climbed out, stretching his cramped limbs. Dylan would leave Jace here to wait for a human man to come by who would take him the rest of the way to the airstrip—they’d done this on Jace’s previous trips as well. Safer for all concerned if a Shifter wasn’t spotted driving out to an abandoned airfield.
“Be well,” Dylan said, clasping Jace in a brief but tight hug. “I’ll work on things from here.”
Jace nodded his thanks, jogged into the tall grasses, and crouched down, hiding himself, to wait. Dylan got back into his truck and drove smoothly away before any other vehicles came down the road.
Jace didn’t wait long, though it felt like forever as he lay in the dew-laden grass. Another pickup, which was driven by one of the men he’d seen this trip at the landing strip, slowed down and waited for Jace to climb inside the cab.
Fifteen minutes and an unpaved road later, Jace was back at the airstrip, boarding the small, old cargo plane a man named Marlo flew. Marlo had long ago worked for very bad men, transporting things for them from Mexico, but had given it up. Now he smuggled Shifters anywhere in the country they wanted to go.
“Let’s get up in the air,” Marlo said, ushering Jace up the little stair into the body of the plane. “The wind is getting bad. Want to get out of this system.”
To Jace, the sky was clear and beautiful, only a little breeze stirring the grasses around them. But pilots spoke a different language. Jace stowed his backpack, then took the copilot’s seat in the cockpit. He didn’t know how to fly, but Marlo tended to talk a lot on the trips, and Jace always felt better if Marlo faced forward, looking at his instruments, than if he constantly turned around to yell at Jace in the back.
Marlo did his checks, started up, checked some more instruments, waved at the ground crew, and taxied out to the grown-over airstrip. The two men at the tiny shed waved back, then returned to the pickup that had brought Jace and drove away.
Marlo sped the plane down the little runway, bouncing over ruts, then lifted off without much of a bump. The plane flopped around a little as they climbed, buffeted by the winds Marlo had mentioned, but soon they were running in a fairly smooth layer of air. The city of Austin spread out to the north of them, hugging the river and its hills, the river country receding to a streak of vivid green in the otherwise dry Texas brown.
Jace opened his hand and studied the bracelet resting in his palm. Delicate, yet strong, like Deni was. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth gold, determined to see her smile at him when he brought it back to her.
He growled. Jace already missed her like crazy, and the wildcat in him snarled at him for walking away. The torn skin on his neck hurt again, the soreness making his beast that much angrier. Whatever mitigating effects being in Faerie had given him must be wearing off.
Interesting about that. Jace let the bracelet trickle over his hand as he thought. Maybe they should try taking off the Collars inside Faerie. Then again, what if inside Faerie Shifters behaved normally and then went insane when they walked out once more?
Jace let out a sigh. He’d been full of enthusiasm about removing the Collars when he’d come to Austin, but things had changed. He no longer wanted to risk himself for what might be. He had something to lose now. If the Morrisseys wanted to experiment with the Collars so much, they could, as Fionn might say, suck it up, and test it on themselves.
His gaze returned to the bracelet, and he imagined it still warm from Deni’s wrist . . .
The plane bounced once, hard, as though it had hit some kind of airborne speed bump. Marlo shouted, “Whoa!” and grabbed for the stick as dials started spinning.
“Whoa, what?” Jace yelled over the engines that had started to roar. “You can fix that, right?”
“Shit,” Marlo said. He added quickly, “Nothing to worry about—this has happened before. I need to set down. Help me look for a place.”
“Nothing to worry about?” The plane was heading downward, leaving Jace’s stomach behind, everything in back banging and clattering. Another bump shook the plane, which nosed harder downward. The small airplane gave a profound rattle and smoke poured out the left-side engine, flames licking the wing. “The engine’s on fire!” Jace shouted. “You call that nothing to worry about?”
“The wind will put it out. Help me look!”
“Aw, crap on a crutch,” Jace snarled.
He wrapped his hand around the bracelet and held it hard, as though it were a link to Deni herself. Goddess, Goddess, great and good, Jace began the ritual prayer, then gave up trying to remember the words. Help me. Let me be with Deni again. I feel the mate bond, for crying out loud.
“Wait.” Deni fumbled with the catch of her bracelet, an old-fashioned clasp. The bracelet had been in her family for so long, no one remembered where it had come from. She took off the bracelet and pressed it into Jace’s hand. “Keep this for me. Bring it back to me.”
Jace started to shake his head. “It’s special to you, I can tell.”
“It is. But if I know you have it, that will be special too.”
Jace hesitated another moment, then he closed his fingers around it. “I’ll keep it safe. I promise.”
Deni nodded. She stepped back from him and clasped her hands. “The Goddess go with you.”
“No.” Jace reached for her once more, his arms coming hard around her. “That’s what you say to someone you’ll never see again.”
His kiss was fierce, wild. Deni held on to Jace and kissed him back with as much force, her heart pounding and aching.
At last Jace eased away, and Deni made herself let him go. Jace laid his hand on her chest, between her br**sts.
“Be well, my heart,” he said, then he turned and walked away, following Dylan into the Texas dawn.
* * *
There was no question of Deni coming with Jace to the plane. Jace understood—the fewer Shifters who left Shiftertown the better.
Jace hunkered down with a bunch of junk in the bed of Dylan’s small pickup, and Dylan tied a tarp over it all. Then Dylan drove out of Shiftertown without ceremony, heading east along the Bastrop Highway.
After a long time, Dylan took a turn off the main road, pulled over, and lifted the tarp. The road was deserted, and Jace climbed out, stretching his cramped limbs. Dylan would leave Jace here to wait for a human man to come by who would take him the rest of the way to the airstrip—they’d done this on Jace’s previous trips as well. Safer for all concerned if a Shifter wasn’t spotted driving out to an abandoned airfield.
“Be well,” Dylan said, clasping Jace in a brief but tight hug. “I’ll work on things from here.”
Jace nodded his thanks, jogged into the tall grasses, and crouched down, hiding himself, to wait. Dylan got back into his truck and drove smoothly away before any other vehicles came down the road.
Jace didn’t wait long, though it felt like forever as he lay in the dew-laden grass. Another pickup, which was driven by one of the men he’d seen this trip at the landing strip, slowed down and waited for Jace to climb inside the cab.
Fifteen minutes and an unpaved road later, Jace was back at the airstrip, boarding the small, old cargo plane a man named Marlo flew. Marlo had long ago worked for very bad men, transporting things for them from Mexico, but had given it up. Now he smuggled Shifters anywhere in the country they wanted to go.
“Let’s get up in the air,” Marlo said, ushering Jace up the little stair into the body of the plane. “The wind is getting bad. Want to get out of this system.”
To Jace, the sky was clear and beautiful, only a little breeze stirring the grasses around them. But pilots spoke a different language. Jace stowed his backpack, then took the copilot’s seat in the cockpit. He didn’t know how to fly, but Marlo tended to talk a lot on the trips, and Jace always felt better if Marlo faced forward, looking at his instruments, than if he constantly turned around to yell at Jace in the back.
Marlo did his checks, started up, checked some more instruments, waved at the ground crew, and taxied out to the grown-over airstrip. The two men at the tiny shed waved back, then returned to the pickup that had brought Jace and drove away.
Marlo sped the plane down the little runway, bouncing over ruts, then lifted off without much of a bump. The plane flopped around a little as they climbed, buffeted by the winds Marlo had mentioned, but soon they were running in a fairly smooth layer of air. The city of Austin spread out to the north of them, hugging the river and its hills, the river country receding to a streak of vivid green in the otherwise dry Texas brown.
Jace opened his hand and studied the bracelet resting in his palm. Delicate, yet strong, like Deni was. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth gold, determined to see her smile at him when he brought it back to her.
He growled. Jace already missed her like crazy, and the wildcat in him snarled at him for walking away. The torn skin on his neck hurt again, the soreness making his beast that much angrier. Whatever mitigating effects being in Faerie had given him must be wearing off.
Interesting about that. Jace let the bracelet trickle over his hand as he thought. Maybe they should try taking off the Collars inside Faerie. Then again, what if inside Faerie Shifters behaved normally and then went insane when they walked out once more?
Jace let out a sigh. He’d been full of enthusiasm about removing the Collars when he’d come to Austin, but things had changed. He no longer wanted to risk himself for what might be. He had something to lose now. If the Morrisseys wanted to experiment with the Collars so much, they could, as Fionn might say, suck it up, and test it on themselves.
His gaze returned to the bracelet, and he imagined it still warm from Deni’s wrist . . .
The plane bounced once, hard, as though it had hit some kind of airborne speed bump. Marlo shouted, “Whoa!” and grabbed for the stick as dials started spinning.
“Whoa, what?” Jace yelled over the engines that had started to roar. “You can fix that, right?”
“Shit,” Marlo said. He added quickly, “Nothing to worry about—this has happened before. I need to set down. Help me look for a place.”
“Nothing to worry about?” The plane was heading downward, leaving Jace’s stomach behind, everything in back banging and clattering. Another bump shook the plane, which nosed harder downward. The small airplane gave a profound rattle and smoke poured out the left-side engine, flames licking the wing. “The engine’s on fire!” Jace shouted. “You call that nothing to worry about?”
“The wind will put it out. Help me look!”
“Aw, crap on a crutch,” Jace snarled.
He wrapped his hand around the bracelet and held it hard, as though it were a link to Deni herself. Goddess, Goddess, great and good, Jace began the ritual prayer, then gave up trying to remember the words. Help me. Let me be with Deni again. I feel the mate bond, for crying out loud.
