Feral Heat

Chapter Five

“They still have Dylan?” Jace asked.

The garage he stood in had been converted to a workshop. Two long tables ran the length of the room, flanked by a few stools. Bolted to the benches were a scroll saw, a drill press, and what looked like a router in a stand. At the end of one bench was a jeweler’s vise that rotated on a huge ball bearing so the worker could look at a piece from every angle.

The benches also held tools—every style of pliers and vise grips, wire snips, knives, gauges, squares, rulers, and other measuring devices. Boxes holding silver bits and jump links were arranged on the benches, and a soldering iron lay next to a can of flux.

A few half-built pieces of furniture and some trays of jewelry had been set up in the corners of the room, but Jace knew those were for verisimilitude should humans find this workshop. The true projects lay in the boxes of silver pieces. Liam and his family were making fake Collars and also researching how to remove real Collars from Shifters without making said Shifters insane.

Sean nodded to Jace’s question. “Dad’s still in jail. They wanted to keep him overnight. Kim’s working on it.”

“She’s good, is my mate,” Liam said. “She’ll make them see reason, or at least shove legalese at them until they choke.”

Sean and Liam, in spite of their hopeful words, were worried, Jace saw. Both men had deep shadows under their eyes and moved a bit stiffly. They’d probably been up all night.

“Sure you want to be experimenting on my neck when you’ve had no sleep?” he asked, only half joking.

“Don’t worry, lad. We won’t do much today.”

Sean unbuckled the Sword of the Guardian from his back, slid the blade out of its leather sheath, and laid the sword on the table. Runes that looked ancient and powerful were traced all over the sword, blade and hilt alike.

Jace had seen the sword belonging to the Guardian in his own Shiftertown, but this one, he knew, was the original. The first, made by Shifter sword maker Niall O’Connell and woven with spells by the Fae woman Alanna, had been passed down through the generations to Sean—the men of the Morrissey family were O’Connell’s heirs.

Shifters didn’t much go in for magic, but Jace knew the tingle of it when he felt it. There was magic in the sword, and its vibration permeated the air of the room.

“Collars,” Liam said, seating himself on one of the stools. “Fae magic and human technology woven together. Cracking that code is the toughest thing.”

“How’s it going?” Jace asked. “Any progress?”

“Some,” Liam continued while Sean sat down, laid a few pieces of silver together on the jeweler’s anvil, and clicked on the light of the magnifier above it.

“We can get to the Collar’s chip.” Liam tapped the round black-and-silver piece that was a Celtic cross resting on his throat. “It’s in there, wired up and ready to go. The magic part is in the silver that weaves through the Collar—most of the magic is in there, that is. What we haven’t figured out is how the magic and technology tie together. That’s important, because what fuses them is also, we think, what fuses the Collar to the Shifter’s neck. It bites into our nervous system and stays there. That’s why, when the first experimenters simply ripped Collars from necks, the Shifter’s adrenaline system kicked into high gear, sending that Shifter feral. It was as though years of instincts being suppressed by the Collars suddenly sprang out, with twenty years of rage fueling them.”

Jace had heard about the experiments of a few years ago, done by an idiot who hadn’t cared that the Shifters went crazy when the Collars came off. He’d only wanted the Shifters free of Collars and under his thumb. Liam had been caught up in the battle to stop it. Liam, his father, and Sean had taken over the experimenting and were being much more careful about it.

Liam continued, “We have to figure out what it is that makes the Collars work as one piece. What that third element is, so to speak. Magic, technology . . . and something that slides in between.”

“And I’m the guinea pig?” Jace asked.

“Only if you want to be, lad. We won’t force you.”

But this was why Jace had come. He’d learned, slowly over the last year, how to control his Collar. He’d been teaching his father and others in his Shiftertown how to do it, and preparing himself for Collar removal. The Morrisseys had learned to make fake Collars that would fool humans, but only two Shifters thus far wore them—Andrea, Sean’s mate, and Tiger, a Shifter who’d been created by humans. Tiger had never worn a Collar before he came to Shiftertown, and when they’d tried to put one on, he’d gone even crazier than he already was. Liam had decided a fake Collar for Tiger was the best solution.

Andrea had worn a real Collar most of her life, but strangely, it had never worked on her. Andrea was half Fae. Sean’s theory was that her Fae-ness somehow counteracted the magic inside the Collar. Or else her healing magic did—Andrea was a healer. Andrea’s Collar had come off easily, in any case.

The Morrisseys were trying to apply what they’d learned from Andrea to other Shifters, but they still hadn’t figured out the details. It was tough to find Shifters stable enough, trustworthy enough, and willing enough to let themselves be lab rats for the Collar experiments. Hence, Jace’s trips to Austin.

Jace opened his arms and shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

Sean picked up a soldering iron. “Be best if you held still.”

Jace looked at the pencil-thin device, which hummed a little as Sean turned it on. The tip would be turning brutally hot.

“Seriously?” Jace asked him.

Sean attempted to keep a worried look off his face as he approached, which didn’t make Jace feel any better. “We’re trying to both find a safe way to remove the Collars and discover their secret at the same time,” Sean said. “I volunteered myself, but Dad and Liam won’t let me.”

“Because you’re the Guardian,” Jace said as sweat broke out on his face. “If this kills you, ripples will be felt throughout Shiftertown—the Shifter world, even. Kill me, and the ripples will be smaller.”

“No killing,” Sean said quickly. “We’ll stop short of killing.”

“Whew.” Jace’s heart beat faster, but he kept his voice light. “Thank the Goddess for small favors.”

“I’d love to tell you this won’t hurt,” Sean said. He raised the soldering iron.

Liam closed in on Jace’s other side. “You going to be all right, lad? No ripping into us, I mean?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Jace’s back, and he curled his hands to fists. “Let’s find out.”

“Dad should be here,” Liam said. “But he told us not to wait.”

“How did he tell you?” Jace kept his eyes on the hot tip of the iron. “He’s in jail.”

“He’s good at getting messages to us,” Sean said. “He wants us to start. He must know something.”

“Possibly,” Jace said. He clenched his jaw, fists tightening.

Something cold touched the side of Jace’s neck. A knife—a very small, delicate one, wielded by Liam. Sean held the iron competently between steady fingers and brought it close to Jace’s throat.

“The heat loosens the metal without tearing you,” Liam said. His knife nicked Jace’s skin, just barely.

“You know this how?” Jace asked. Neither Sean nor Liam answered. Jace didn’t want to move his throat by swallowing, but he couldn’t help but lick his dry lips. “Ah, so you don’t know.”

“We’ve done a lot of thinking on this,” Liam said. “Someone’s got to be the first.”

“Sean said you took Andrea’s off with a knife alone.”

“True, but Andrea’s wasn’t fused to her nervous system. Trust me, we’ll do this slowly. Only a link or two today. More tomorrow if it works.”

“If it works,” Jace repeated. “Your skills at reassurance are terrific, Liam. What a hell of a Shiftertown leader you must make.”

“Stop talking,” Liam said. “Stay very, very still.”

Jace was doing this for the good of all Shifters, he reminded himself. Shifters for years to come would benefit from Jace’s sacrifice.

It was that word—sacrifice—that Jace was having trouble with at the moment.

The knife blade cut. At the same time, Sean darted in with the iron. Searing heat radiated across Jace’s neck and down his spine. He felt a wildcat snarl begin deep inside but he tamped it down as hard as he could. If he shifted now, who the hell knew what would happen to him?

Liam and Sean backed off as swiftly as they’d gone in. Jace opened his eyes and shook his head, the pain easing. He blinked, realizing he viewed the other two through cat’s eyes. He relaxed his hands and found he’d gouged his own palms with leopard claws.

He drew a ragged breath, willing all of himself to resume human form. “Is that it?”

Liam shook his head. “Started it. A little bit more, and we’ll have a link or two off. Then drinks are on me.”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“I’m thinking you won’t care what time it is when we’re done, lad. Plus, you had one hell of a night last night. So did we. Beer is a good thing.”

Jace drew in a deep breath through his nose. “All right,” he said. He released the breath. “I’m ready.”

Sean jammed the iron onto Liam’s knife blade, and the searing knife slid under Jace’s skin. “Oh, son of a f—” Jace’s words became a wildcat snarl. He slammed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the world rock if he shifted.

The process took longer this time. Liam’s breath brushed Jace’s neck as he leaned close, his lion’s scent different enough from the Feline scents Jace had grown up with to make his leopard a little crazy.

After an agonizing stretch of time, Liam stepped back, Sean took away the iron, and the pain, mercifully, let up. Jace opened his eyes again, taking deep breaths until his killing instincts calmed down.

His clothes were drenched with sweat, his body shaking. Jace wiped his face with the back of his hand and moved his fingers toward his neck.

“Careful,” Liam said. “That’s going to be a little tender.”

A little? Jace barely brushed himself and jerked his hand away at the raw pain. “Is it off?”

“A link and a half,” Liam said. “Good for today.”

“A link and a half?” Jace spun to a grimy mirror over a sink. Sure enough, a link had loosened on the right side of his neck. Beneath it was an angry red mark. “We can’t let anyone see this.”

“No,” Liam agreed, while Sean turned off the iron. “I suggest a scarf or a jacket.”

Jacket. Jace had brought a hoodie for cooler nights, and Liam had pulled the link where such a thing could hide the traces.

Jace rummaged in his backpack. The cloth of the jacket, when it settled against his neck, stung, but the small hurt was nothing to what had gone through him before.

“What now?” Jace asked.

“Beer,” Sean said, sliding his sword back into its scabbard. “Lots of it. And trying to spring my dad from jail.”

Deni kept busy in her yard after Will and Jackson left for work. Maria had gone off to school, and Ellison was back, snoring in his bedroom, sleeping off his night, leaving Deni relatively alone. She didn’t want to sit in the house waiting to see whether Jace would come back—that way led to brooding, then to craziness, and to her feral wolf coming out.

In shorts and a T-shirt, Deni planted new bedding flowers Will had brought home for her. The weather in Austin was usually dry enough and warm enough for her to mix arid climate plants like autumn sage with wetter weather plants like petunias and roses. Many Shifters went in for gardening, keeping their small yards colorful throughout the year. An antidote, Deni figured, to the restlessness that made them want to roam and fight. Nesting as compensation, she supposed.

Deni was straightening up from clipping off a few dead red roses when warmth covered her from behind.

“I prefer a sarong,” Jace said, his breath hot in her ear.

“Do you?” Deni nestled back into him. “I’ll get you one for yourself, then. Bet you’d look cute in it.”

His laugh started all kinds of fires inside her. Deni turned in his arms, still holding her pruning scissors. She started to smile at him, but she broke off, seeing the streak of blood on the side of his neck.

“Are you all right?”

Jace moved the collar of his jacket over the wound. “Price of wisdom. We won’t know what removing the Collars will do until we remove them.”

“It’s still on.” Deni pointed at the Celtic cross at the hollow of his throat. Her bracelet, which she liked to wear as often as she could, clinked lightly against the cross. Deni’s mother had left her the bracelet, a reminder of happier days.

“Baby steps. I think the Morrissey boys are through torturing me for the day, or at least the morning.”

Deni touched her own Collar. “Do they really think they can get them off? I wonder if . . .”

Jace closed his fingers over her hand as she started to tug at her Collar. “If taking yours off will stop your episodes? I don’t want you risking that, Den. What they just did to me hurt like hell. I don’t want you going through it until they know what they’re doing.”

Deni squeezed his hand. “Why are you going through it, then? I don’t want you hurting like hell either.”

Jace shrugged. “Someone needs to go first. Why not me?”

“Why should it be you?” she asked indignantly. “Let Liam and Sean torture themselves.”

“Think about it.” Jace laced his fingers through Deni’s. “Sean’s the Guardian. Liam’s the Shiftertown leader. Dylan needs to be intact in case Liam needs backup. Connor their nephew is too young for this kind of pain. Liam’s trackers—Ronan, Spike, Ellison—are mated now, with little ones, or little ones on the way. I’m a strong enough Shifter to take the experiment, and if something irreversible happens to me, my dad and my aunt Cass are already running our Shiftertown. I’m unmated, have no cubs . . .”

“Meaning you’re expendable?” Deni snatched her hand away, anger rising from someplace deep. “No one’s expendable, Jace.”

Jace gave her a tolerant look. “You’re nice to worry about me. Now, how about putting on the sarong?”

Deni made a noise of exasperation and smacked at him with her empty hand. Jace caught her hand again and tugged her closer, up against his hard body.

His face lost its teasing expression, and his grip tightened. “Deni, you make me glad to be alive.”

She looked up into his eyes, which held fire, and something in her that she hadn’t realized was tight unwound itself.

Deni spread her fingers on his chest. “Don’t let them have it all their own way.”

Jace gave her a startled look as though surprised at her defense of him. He leaned down and kissed her, drawing the fire that had already begun inside her. He rested his cheek against hers after that, rocking a little as he held her, warmth to warmth.

Jace lifted his head, brushing Deni’s hair from her face. “I’m beat. Too bad. I was hoping to do other things this morning.”

The light in his eyes was suggestive, but he did look tired. Exhausted. He hadn’t had much sleep in the night, and he’d been gone at dawn. Deni was willing to bet he hadn’t eaten anything either.

“Take a load off,” she said, gesturing to the porch. “Let me finish here, and I’ll make a late breakfast. Or early lunch. Whatever you want to call it.”

Jace gave her a smile and kissed her forehead, tightening his grip on her again, but finally he let her go. “Liam and Sean went home to consume a boatload of Guinness,” he said, moving to the porch. He shook his head. “Irishmen.”

He laughed, but Deni grew irritated. Liam expected Jace to sit still while he and Sean poked at him, and then they didn’t even bother to feed him.

She jerked on her gardening gloves as the porch swing creaked—Jace let out a sigh as he relaxed on it—and went back to her task of spreading mulch around her new plants. A few roses to deadhead, and then she’d go whip up a mountain of eggs and a stack of bacon. Ellison would be up soon too, and she knew how much male Shifters loved to eat.

A small car pulled up across the street. Deni straightened to watch as Kim Morrissey descended in a neat skirt and blouse with low-heeled shoes. Deni sensed other Shifters in yards and on porches down the street coming alert, watching too.

Kim looked over and gave Deni a brief wave, but her usual smiles were gone, her face set in grim lines. The passenger door had opened as Kim got out, and Dylan emerged.

Deni let out a breath of relief. Dylan was safe. She sensed the other Shifters relax as well, and saw them turn back to their morning tasks.

Dylan glanced at Deni then walked swiftly across the road toward Deni’s yard. He paused at the edge of the browning grass, too much a Shifter to invade Ellison’s territory without invitation. He only continued toward Deni at her flowerbed when she gave him a nod.

Dylan looked terrible. His cheeks were covered with black stubble, the gray that brushed his temples more prevalent this morning. His face was lined with dirt, his hair lank, his clothes smelling of stale smoke and sweat.

“You all right?” Dylan asked her.

“I should be asking you that,” Deni said, pulling off her dirty gloves and dropping them to the ground. Dylan’s blue eyes were always difficult to look into, but Deni met his gaze for a few beats.

“I’m good,” Dylan said, though it was obvious he wasn’t. He put a firm hand on Deni’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “You did well last night, lass,” he said. His arms tightened, the alpha giving one of his frightened Shifters reassurance.

A growl sounded. Low and vicious, it rolled out from the shadows, its threat clear.

Dylan jerked around, releasing Deni. An answering growl came from his throat, Dylan too tired to worry about any kind of protocol. A Shifter threatened him—Dylan was going to strike him down.

It took Deni a second to realize that the rumble had come from Jace on the porch. He was still sitting on the porch swing, but alert, upright, his eyes glinting in the shadows.

Shifters in another’s territory were always careful about what they did—this entire Shiftertown was technically Morrissey clan territory, though they respected the rights and privacy of individual families, packs, and prides. But a Shifter from out of town couldn’t threaten, challenge, or cause any problems when he was an invited guest. It wasn’t polite, and it was dangerous besides.

So why the hell was Jace Warden leaning forward, his gaze fast on Dylan, growling with full menace and ready to attack?