CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Graham danced aside as Oison struck, but the sword blade caught along Graham’s ribs and broke the skin. Oison ran for Dougal, who had slumped to the ground, but Graham dove over his nephew, protecting him. Like hell he’d let Oison take him.
Oison raised the sword again and drove it down into the place Graham had been shot. Graham shouted in pain, but he wouldn’t move—Oison wasn’t touching Dougal again with that blade.
But Graham wouldn’t let himself die, not yet. He needed to live so he could tell Misty how much he loved her. You woke me, he wanted to say. I’d been existing before. Surviving. With you, I learned about life again.
And about laughter. Misty was always smiling or laughing about something, finding the lightness in any subject. And talking. Goddess, the woman could talk. Her sweet voice had poured over him every time he’d been with her, soothing all the hurts in his soul. How could he have ever thought of not taking her as mate?
Oison raised the sword again. Graham roared as it came down, then he heaved himself up to meet it.
He noted with satisfaction Oison’s look of surprise. Graham was strong, stronger than any Shifter he knew, and Oison was going to find out just how strong.
The sword was in him, but Graham wrapped his hands around Oison’s throat. The Fae’s slim neck was sturdy, but Fae were of the same basic composition as Shifters or humans. They needed air to breathe, blood to flow through their bodies.
Graham pressed his fingers into Oison’s throat, cutting off the airflow. If he crushed the trachea, no more Oison. He hoped he could do it before his own breath ran out.
He thought he heard Misty’s voice calling his name. Graham!
Graham could barely see. He thought he heard the throb of a Harley, which wound him into memories. He and Dougal riding side by side, wind in their faces, charging down an empty Nevada highway as fast as they could go. Riding hard.
Other voices joined Misty’s. Eric. Diego and Xav. The wild yips of Kyle and Matt. Two small bodies whacked into Oison, and Graham lost his hold. Damn it.
Graham cracked open his eyes. Matt and Kyle were growling and snarling, climbing all over Oison. Graham seemed to see, superimposed on the cubs, two gigantic wolves, their muzzles huge, eyes red with fury. They were too thick of body and broad of chest to be regular Shifter wolves—these were something he’d never seen before.
Graham blinked, and they were the cubs again, tearing at Oison, who batted at them as though they were annoying gnats.
“Misty, no!” Xavier’s voice, and Misty charging past Xav, not listening. Typical. When Misty got the bit between her teeth, there was no stopping her.
Electricity crackled, and there was Misty, a Taser in her hand. “Matt, Kyle, out of the way.” The cubs turned to stare, yelped, and leapt to the ground. “Get away from my mate, a*shole,” Misty said clearly, and she shot a bolt of electricity into Oison.
Graham had to laugh to see the Fae jolt with the shot. Oison let go of the sword, but not before an arc had laced down the blade into Graham. Graham grunted and fell back, Dougal still beneath him.
Misty was crying, on her knees next to Graham. Graham had enough energy left to open his eyes, to lift his arm to reach for her.
Oison recovered—Fae were almost as tough to kill as Shifters. His black eyes like mouths to hell, Oison yanked the sword out of Graham, and swung it at Misty.
The cubs went crazy again, leaping at him. Xavier slid out his Sig, and aimed it at Oison, but he couldn’t shoot because he might hit the cubs.
Air popped, and Reid appeared, out of breath, filthy, his eyes as merciless as Oison’s. He shoved Oison away from Misty, and the sword blade went wide. Oison, furious, turned to face Reid.
The two Fae fought, Reid grappling with him for the sword, rage on his face. Xavier kept trying to aim, but he had no clear shot. Reid landed a hit across Oison’s face, drawing blood, but Oison backed up, his grip on his sword true again, and rammed the blade at Reid.
Graham heaved himself up. Blood ran from his wounds, and his Collar was shocking him, but the wolf in him gave him strength. He felt himself Shifting before he realized it, into his in-between beast, a monster that was half wolf, half human. Misty, instead of running away in terror, came to Graham and steadied him on his feet.
Graham roared. He grabbed Oison’s arm as his sword came down to Reid and ripped the blade away. As Oison spun to face him, Graham took the blade in both hands and broke it over his huge knee.
There was a flash, a sound like a broken bell, and the pieces of the sword fell, tarnished and jagged, to the ground.
Oison opened his mouth and cried something in Fae, but he only got a few words out before Graham grabbed him by the neck again.
As Graham had done in his dream, he ripped his claws into Oison’s throat, no chain mail now to stop him. Hot blood poured out over Graham’s hands. Oison locked his fingers around Graham’s wrists, gasping for breath. The Fae gulped air and started chanting again, another spell, Graham knew.
Graham felt himself weakening, shifting back to human, whatever magic it was taking hold, but he refused to let go.
“Graham!” Misty, his mate, screamed. “Get out of the way!”
Graham saw her, and his eyes widened. He spun Oison around so his back would be to Misty, then Graham hit the ground as Misty, who’d grabbed Xavier’s gun, unloaded every bullet in it into the Fae.
Oison faltered, but he kicked away from Graham and ran for the opening to the cave. Bullets were lead, not iron, so while they’d slow him down, he could escape to Faerie and live.
Graham wouldn’t let him. He was on Oison in two strides, changing to wolf, bringing the Fae down flat on his back. He closed his mouth over Oison’s throat, biting down. Graham tasted blood, and saw the life leave Oison’s eyes.
Oison’s head lolled, blood coming from his mouth, then all at once, he looked straight up at Graham.
“It’s only the beginning,” he said clearly, then he died. His body crumpled, dissolving into dust.
Graham shifted slowly, painfully back to human. Misty dropped to her knees next to him, the gun falling from her hands.
“Graham . . .”
“It’s all right, Misty,” Graham said, barely able to form the words. “I got the son of a bitch.”
He collapsed into her arms, spent, but there was no place he’d rather be. The hot summer wind swept down from the ridge and carried the dust of Oison’s dead body into the vast open plain of the desert.
? ? ?
"Dougal first,” Graham said.
The DX Security van they lay in rocked and swayed over the rutted roads back to Shiftertown.
“Graham, you have three sword holes in you,” Misty snapped. “And a reopened gunshot wound.” She clung to his hand, her heart slamming in her chest, not liking that Graham’s grip was so weak.
“And Dougal got stabbed, plus he’s got Collar fatigue.” Graham’s voice might not be up to his usual volume, but he’d held on to his strength of will.
“I’m better,” Dougal said. He sat up beside Graham, leaning against the van wall. “What hurt was the magic. Now that Oison’s gone, so is the spell.”
“No kidding.” Graham had his other hand around a bottle of water. He’d insisted on drinking, so happy to be able to again, though Andrea had joked it would all come out the holes if he didn’t quit.
“He’s not good.” Andrea said now. The slim woman put her hand on Graham’s bloody stomach. “Too much blood loss, too long under a spell, dehydration, exhaustion. All that on top of his wounds. I’m going to need a lot of help.”
“I’m here,” Sean said. He put his hand on his mate’s shoulder, his other on the hilt of his sword, which rested tip-first on the van’s floor.
“What can I do?” Misty asked, not liking the sword so near. She knew what the swords of the Guardians did—were used to release a Shifter’s soul when the Shifter didn’t make it. “There has to be something.”
Graham tried to squeeze her fingers. “You’ve done everything, love. You found me. Twice. You rescued me. Twice. You tased Oison, then you shot him.” He chuckled. “That was fun to watch.”
“Shut up, Graham.” Misty kissed his scraped and blackened cheek. “Save your strength.”
“You’re going to need it to heal,” Andrea told him. “Misty, the touch of a mate helps. Put your hand next to mine, and think about how much you love him.”
“She’s not my mate,” Graham rumbled.
The others in the van turned heads to look at Misty, and Xav glanced back over the front seat at them. Misty found herself pinned under Feline and Lupine stares, including those of the cubs.
“She never accepted the claim,” Graham said. “Sucks, but there it is.”
“What are you talking about?” Misty put her hand on Graham’s chest, feeling his heart beating hard and erratically beneath her fingers. “We argued about this, remember? You said I didn’t refuse.”
“But you didn’t accept, either.”
“Well, shit, Graham, I don’t know everything there is to know about Shifter rituals. I’m going out with a man who doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Hey, don’t blame this on me, sweetheart—”
Dougal broke in. “Misty, you say, ‘Under the Father God and Mother Goddess, and in front of witnesses, I accept the mate-claim.’”
“See?” Misty glared at Graham. “Would that have been so hard?” She took a deep breath and spoke quickly. “Under the Father God and Mother Goddess, and in front of witnesses, I accept the mate-claim.”
“Oh, yeah.” Graham grasped her hand again and squeezed it. “I feel better already.”
The mood in the van lightened. Andrea’s face softened into a smile, and Dougal whooped. Even Reid, in the front with Xav, gave Misty a quiet nod. Sean grinned, and Xav gave them all a thumbs-up as he kept driving.
Dougal launched himself at Misty and enfolded her in a hard hug. “Thank you, Misty.”
The twins rammed into her other side, hugging her tight. Sean and Andrea had brought their clothes, which they’d put on more or less right, except Kyle had his shirt on inside out. “Aunt Misty!” They shouted. The cubs let go of her and jumped up and down together, then ran at her and hugged her again.
All the while Graham lay there, his eyes softening. “Thank you, Misty.”
Misty leaned down, being careful not to hurt him, and kissed his cracked lips. “Anytime, love.”
Graham tried to kiss her back, the glint in his eye telling her when he felt better, she’d need to watch out. Misty didn’t care. She loved Graham, she loved sex with him, and she yearned for him with every part of her.
Graham smiled the best he could as she rose from him, then he looked past her. “And you two,” he said to the twins, with a hint of his old firmness. “Goddess help me. I don’t know whether to lock you in your room for two months or take you out for pizza.”
The twins sprang away from Misty and high-fived each other. “Pizza!” they yelled.
“Earplugs,” Graham said, wincing. “I’m buying a bucket load.”
Laughter began, and then healing magic, as the van rocked and swayed through the dusty desert night.
? ? ?
Andrea’s skill, bandages, Misty’s touch, and time healed Graham’s wounds, though he was the most impatient patient Misty had ever dealt with.
Graham was up and down constantly while he convalesced, picking at the bandages, reopening the closed wounds, grumbling when they were bandaged again. He said he couldn’t stay in bed when he had to take care of Dougal, and the cubs, and Shifter business, and run his half of Shiftertown, and fix his bike, which had gotten shot, if she remembered.
The Shifters would have to rebuild the house that had collapsed, away from the ley line this time. Plus, they needed to get the Shifter Bureau off their backs about the Collars—though the soldiers had tested every one and found them all functional. Still, the fact that a seed of doubt had been sown meant Shifters had to be very, very careful about the Collars. But Collars had to come off and be replaced with fake ones as soon as possible, now that Shifters knew about the Fae and their nefarious plots with the swords.
Then there was the question of arranging for the mating ceremonies with Misty, and Graham breaking it to his Lupines he was mating with a human.
The Lupines already knew, of course, because nothing could be kept quiet in Shiftertown. Wolves would walk by his house while Graham healed, staring up at his bedroom window, and not always out of concern for him. They left him alone for now, but Graham said that a time would come for confrontation.
Paul had taken over looking after Misty’s flower shop and its cleanup, so Misty could stay with Graham and help him. Paul proved to be good at the store, and Misty decided that once Graham was healthy again, she’d ask Paul to go into it with her as a full partner. She could do that for him, and Paul could finally begin his life.
Ben returned a week into Graham’s recovery to congratulate Misty on her victory. Graham almost ripped Ben’s head off as soon as he stepped inside through the kitchen door Misty enthusiastically opened for him.
“You a*shole,” Graham said clearly when he had his hands around Ben’s throat. Graham’s Collar sparked, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Misty told me all about you. You sent her straight into danger—alone. Never mind about your little spell book. If not for you, she’d have stayed the hell out of this.”
“Maybe,” Ben said, unruffled, even though Graham’s fingers bit into his neck. “But she wouldn’t have learned how to find you or fight the Fae’s spells, and you’d be a Fae slave now. Or dead. Maybe both.”
“I don’t want her to fight the Fae,” Graham snarled. “I want her to stay safe.”
Ben brought his hands up between Graham’s and snapped his hold away. Graham stepped back in surprise and glared at him, but didn’t renew the attack.
“I want her to stay safe too,” Ben said, his look serious. “That’s why I taught her how to defend herself and save you.”
“Yeah, well . . .” Graham’s growl was low, and his Collar quieted.
Misty released a breath of relief. She knew Graham well enough now to know he’d gotten his initial rage out of his system and might start listening.
“So when I found the box of books at the flea market,” she said, rummaging in the refrigerator. Now that Graham was done choking Ben, both men might want beer. “Did you make sure I’d buy it? Or was it a coincidence?”
Ben winked at her. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Graham rumbled. “Of course you don’t, you cocky son of a—”
“What about Matt and Kyle?” Misty interrupted. “You said they were special. Very special Shifters, you called them.”
“Ah.” Ben accepted the beer. Graham grabbed the other from Misty and twisted off the top, his movements still a bit stiff.
“I came to tell you about that, actually,” Ben said. “I didn’t realize what they were at first. I didn’t think there were any left. But I did a little research, and I’m right.”
“Get to the point.” Graham leaned against the counter near Misty, protecting her even now, and fixed Ben with a Shifter stare. “Damn creatures from Faerie love the cryptic.”
“They’re Guards,” Ben said.
Graham stiffened. “Guardians?”
Ben shook his head. “Guards. Back when Shifters were created, Fae made a special breed of them they called Guards. They were a little bigger and more ferocious than typical Shifters, and created to guard the highest generals, the clan leaders, and the emperor.”
“Rear guard, you mean,” Graham said. “To take care of the cowards who wouldn’t go out in actual battle.”
“You got it.” Ben nodded and took a sip of beer. “Unfortunately, the Fae made the Guards a little too good. When the Shifter-Fae war came along, the Guards turned around and defended the Shifters instead of the Fae. They knew a lot about the habits of the highest-ranking Fae, and they used that knowledge to take them down. They fought the Fae to the death. The main reason the Shifters won that war is because of the Shifter Guards. Unfortunately, ‘to the death’ meant literally. The Guards died to the last one. Extinct. Or so we all thought.” Ben gestured with his beer bottle. “Those two cubs are Guards. I guess the genetics made it through. Who was their father?”
Graham shrugged. “I don’t know. Their mother was one of my wolves—she died bringing them in, and she never would say who the father was. None of my other Lupines would admit to it, so I figured she’d found a wolf from another Shiftertown, or maybe one who’d stayed in the wild. She died without naming him.”
“Hmm,” Ben said. “Interesting. Well, keep an eye on them.”
“Great,” Graham said, though the anger in his voice had lessened a long way. “They’re out with Dougal right now. Probably watching Dougal chase tail.”
“They’ll take care of Dougal,” Ben said. “Who’s babysitting whom, that’s the question.” He chuckled, took another sip of beer, and glanced out the window. “Hey, Graham, looks like your wolves are ready to parley. Enjoy yourself.” Ben set his bottle by the sink, came to Misty and kissed her cheek, then grinned at the snarling Graham, and exited through the front.
“Crap.” Graham slammed down his bottle, winced, and touched his side. Shifters healed quickly, he’d said over and over to Misty this week, but even so, Graham wasn’t ready for a full-blown fight.
Graham walked out of the house to his back porch, Misty following. Graham pulled himself up straight to face the crowd of Lupines who’d gathered at the edge of his yard. “She accepted the mate-claim,” Graham told them, his voice as strong as ever. “Get over it.”
“We know.” The wolf called Norval fixed his gaze on Misty. “We don’t accept it.”
“Don’t care,” Graham said. “I formed the mate bond with her. What am I supposed to do? Throw that away?”
Several of the wolves moved uneasily. The mate bond was an almost sacred thing—to come between two Shifters who shared it was cruel, not to mention dangerous.
“Other Shifters have given up the mate bond for the good of their clans,” Norval said.
“True,” Graham answered. “Other Shifters, not me. And that was in the wild, where those choices meant survival. These days, we don’t have to deny a mate bond so full-of-themselves Shifters don’t get their knickers in a twist.”
A few of the wolves chuckled. Norval only looked more angry. “Watch it, Graham. I’ll challenge for Shiftertown leadership if you break this faith.”
“Go ahead.” Graham shrugged his large shoulders. “I’ll slam you down. Then your second will climb over your dead body to take the clan leadership.”
More movement, some of the Shifters drifting away from Norval, others gathering behind him.
Misty saw Dougal approach and stand on the edge of the crowd. Graham shook his head ever so slightly, and Dougal nodded back, silently staying where he was.
“I accept the mating,” a female voice said.
The Lupine woman Jan stepped out from behind Muriel. Her arms were folded, she wouldn’t look at anyone directly, but she glanced defiantly out of the corners of her eyes. “Misty Granger will be a good mate for Graham,” Jan said, her voice firm. “She’ll have our backs.”
Norval bristled. “You don’t know what the f*ck you’re talking about.”
“Yes, she does,” Misty broke in. A hiss of distaste went through some of the Shifters—a female, human, speaking to dominant Shifters—unheard of. Misty jabbed a fist in Jan’s direction and grinned at her. “Jan and me, we’re sisters under the skin.”
“Misty saved me from being taken by the Shifter Bureau,” Jan said. “For that, I stand by her.”
“I do too,” Muriel said. “Jan told me what happened. While you alphas were skulking around avoiding the Bureau men, Misty was saving Jan’s ass. She also saved Graham’s. We wouldn’t have a leader right now if not for her.”
“She also got Graham into trouble in the first place,” Norval said angrily. “He got shot and nearly taken by the Fae because he went running after her.”
“Pay attention,” Muriel said. “The Fae would have grabbed Graham any way he could. Misty brought him home and kept the Bureau from finding out we’re digging under the houses.”
Norval’s eyes narrowed. “Are you ‘sisters’ with her too?”
“No,” Muriel said. “But I’m not stupid. You want Graham to mate for the good of his Shifters, or so you say. Or maybe you’re trying to force a match that’s for the good of you.”
“Muriel,” Norval growled, giving her his alpha stare.
Another young female Lupine came forward, followed by another, more reluctant, but with her shoulders squared. “We’ll stand by Graham’s choice too,” the first one said. “We’re a little irritated that our clan leaders are trying to mate us off to him. It’s our decision who we pick as a mate, not theirs. We’re tired of being treated like chattel.”
Norval swept his gaze over them. “Is this what city living does to Lupines?” he asked. “Clan leaders let low-dominance females speak without permission?”
“Clan leaders can get used to it,” Misty called to him. “If I’m going to be the Shiftertown leader’s mate, I’ll teach the ladies to not let themselves be pushed around. They should all be like my friend Lindsay.”
Norval went almost purple. “Dear Goddess. Graham, control her.”
Graham shook his head. “I can’t. She’s human. She does what she wants.” He rested his fists on the porch railing. “My decision’s made. I mate-claimed Misty, she accepted, the sun and moon ceremonies will be soon. Suck on it.”
Norval and a few others looked as though they wanted to continue the argument, but Graham did his Graham thing of turning around and walking away, showing them his uncaring back. Misty gave Jan a grateful smile and retreated into the house after Graham.
Graham grabbed Misty around the waist as soon as she came out of the kitchen and had her against the wall in the hall. “You’ve got a sassy mouth.” He leaned to her. “I’m going to bite it.”
“Mmm.” Misty laced her arms around his neck as he took her bottom lip between his teeth. The little pain of the bite shot excitement through her.
“Mating frenzy,” Graham said. “It’s rising and doesn’t care about these damn bandages.”
Misty put her hand on his jeans and slid it down to his zipper. “I see that.”
Graham rested his hands on either side of her head as he licked across her mouth. “I need you, Misty. I’ve been needing you . . . it’s making me crazy.”
Misty lost her smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s supposed to be me saying that.” Graham nipped her chin. “I want to do everything with you, love. I want you to suck my cock. I want to drink you. I want you riding me, and looking at me with your beautiful eyes when you do it. I want you on your hands and knees, like in your garden, in the moonlight. I want to be in you, buried there, and not come out. I want it all.”
Warm excitement built. “I can go for that.” Misty pressed her hand to his chest. “But not until you’re well.”
“I’m well. I’m with my mate.” Graham clasped her hand, pressing it harder into his chest. “And I have the mate bond. It’s hot inside me, connecting me to you. Can you feel it too?”
The look he gave her was so hopeful, so utterly raw, no barriers between them, that Misty’s eyes stung. “I feel warmth right here.” She pressed his hand between her breasts. “I feel happy whenever I see you, even when you’re yelling. I love looking at you, and watching you look at me as though you want to devour me. I feel lighter whenever you’re around me. I told you in the cave that I loved you, and why. Want me to tell you again?”
“I heard you,” Graham said. “Even that far gone, I heard you.” He touched his lips to hers, the kiss the gentlest brush. “It brought me back to you.”
“Graham.” Misty loved saying his name. She laced her hand behind his head, rubbing his short hair, and made the next kiss deeper. She loved doing that too.
Graham opened her mouth with his kiss, brushing her cheek with his thumb. His body came hard against hers, pressing her back into the wall.
When Graham broke the kiss and looked down at her, the tenderness had left him. “I’m done being nice.” The strength and the savage growl had returned to his voice. “Can you take that?”
Excited heat spun through her. “I think so.”
“Better know so.” Graham took a step back and flashed her his most wicked smile. “Run, sweetheart. I want to hunt.”
Misty’s eyes widened. Graham’s little growl made her heart flutter and then beat very fast.
Misty turned and ran, but not out of the house. Graham caught her when she was halfway up the stairs. Then her shorts were yanked down, her shirt wrenched off, and Graham was on top of her. He growled as he slid inside her, taking her with hard, merciless thrusts. All the while he cradled Misty in his arms so she wouldn’t be hurt on the uncarpeted stairs.
Misty met his thrusts with her own. It was a fierce, wild coupling, and Misty wanted it. Wanted more. Mating frenzy didn’t happen only to Shifters.
“I love you,” Graham said, his voice the gravelly rumble she adored. “Mate of my heart.”
“I love you too,” Misty whispered, then she yelled it, her voice echoing up and down the stairs. “I love you, Graham McNeil! Mate of my heart.”
Graham made a noise in his throat, and the emptiness that she’d always seen in his eyes fled. The light in them warmed, flared, then was drowned by a sudden wash of tears.
Graham’s mouth came down on her in a savage kiss, one that held both his fierceness and his love. He protected her with strong arms while he kissed her and sought his pleasure, and he gave her pleasure back threefold.
Misty traced his flame tattoos, which danced and swirled like the fires in her heart.
Turn the page to read the first chapter of
FERAL HEAT
A Shifters Unbound e-novella that tells how Deni Rowe and Jace Warden fall in love, available now from InterMix
The fight club had moved since Jace Warden had last visited the Austin Shiftertown. The Shifters used to meet for their forbidden bouts in an abandoned hay barn nestled into folds of a hill, but the land had been purchased, and a developer had built over it.
On his borrowed Harley, Jace turned from the discreet plane that had flown him this far and headed down a highway that led to drier country away from the river. The world had darkened while he’d flown east from Nevada to land at an airfield that had supposedly been closed.
Dylan Morrissey, the Austin Shiftertown liaison, had left a message for Jace to meet him at the fights, and he’d also left the bike for Jace’s transportation. Tired and hot, and having hauled himself halfway across the country at Dylan’s request, the last thing Jace wanted to do was to ride out to the fight club. But Dylan had summoned him to work on the problem of getting the Collars off Shifters once and for all, and had extended his hospitality, so Jace hid his irritation, thanked the humans who had helped him get this far, and mounted the motorcycle.
Jace turned off where the directions had instructed, the paved road quickly turning to dirt, the bike bouncing and skidding over gravel and through ruts. The road grew narrower and narrower, until it petered to nothing. Jace continued down a short hill and around a bend, and found the Shifter fight club behind a slight rise that hid it from the road.
He smelled it long before he saw the electric lanterns, fire dancing in garbage cans, and flashlights. Anything that could be quickly doused was being used to illuminate the scene.
Jace would have known it was a place of Shifters, even in the pitch-dark. Shifters working off adrenaline rushes and fighting instincts had a certain interesting—and pungent—odor.
Jace killed the engine of the bike, parking it among the pack of motorcycles, pickups, and smaller cars. He hung the helmet from the seat and made sure his backpack was well stashed in the saddlebag before he approached the fight area. He wasn’t worried about Shifters stealing his change of clothes and toothbrush—Shifters didn’t steal from one another, because a simple snatch could end up in a fight to the death. Possessions were territory, and territory was respected. But humans also came to the fight clubs, and some liked to abscond with things.
The new fighting arena was a broad slab of concrete about a hundred feet long and just as wide. Probably an old building or an event area of some kind, abandoned by its owners when money ran out. Everything had been pulled away except the slab.
Rings were outlined by concrete blocks, and firelight flickered wildly, making it a scene from hell, complete with demons. But the demons were only Shifters having fun and working off steam; those not fighting were cheering, drinking beer, or finding hook-ups—human or Shifter—and sneaking into the darkness to work off steam a different way.
Jace made his way around cars—a few of them being used for liaisons—and toward the firelight. He didn’t worry about locating Dylan in the chaos, because Dylan, a Feline Shifter who was mostly lion, always made himself known.
What Jace didn’t expect was the wolf who sprang out of the shadows in a deserted stretch of the parking area and landed on Jace full force.
Jace swung around with the impact, hands coming up to dig into the wolf’s fur and throw him down. The Lupine landed in the dust, his Collar sparking and sizzling. The Collar’s shocks didn’t slow the wolf much, because he rolled to his feet and charged Jace again.
Jace didn’t know who the hell the wolf was. Not that he had much of a chance of identification as the Lupine landed on Jace again, his Collar’s sparks burning Jace’s skin. The wolf went for Jace’s throat, and Jace’s hands turned to leopard’s paws to rake across the wolf’s face. The wolf took the blow, landed on his feet, shook himself, and sprang again.
Jace’s Collar hadn’t shocked him yet, but he felt the build-up. Collars were made to spike pain into Shifters as soon as they became seriously violent, but Jace had learned techniques to fool the Collar and keep it dormant. It was tough to do, however, especially when he was taken by surprise. Jace had to focus in order to keep the Collar quiet, and right now he was busy trying to keep this bloody Lupine from killing him.
Jace whacked the wolf aside again, spinning around as he shed his denim jacket and half shifted to his wildcat. His shirt split, jeans falling as his back legs elongated into powerful feline haunches. He emerged from his shredding clothes as a fully formed snow leopard—creamy fur, black spots, ice blue eyes—and thoroughly pissed off.
Jace went for the wolf. The wolf was bigger, almost twice Jace’s bulk, but leopards hadn’t made it to the top of the wildcat pyramid because of size. Leopards might be among the smaller big cats, but they were swift, agile, and smart, and they didn’t take shit from anyone.
This wolf wanted to give him shit, though. He came at Jace again, fur up, his canine jowls frothing, his golden eyes filled with rage. The scent that hit Jace reeked of challenge. This was a wolf who wanted to move up in rank, never mind that Jace was a different species and not even from this Shiftertown. Dominance challenges weren’t allowed inside the ring at the fight club; one of the biggest rules was that fights were for recreation and showing off—that, and no killing. Outside the ring was a different story.
Jace got ready to teach him a lesson.
As he drew back to renew his attack, another wolf sprang from the parking lot and hurled itself at the first wolf. A female, Jace scented, one he hadn’t met before.
She wasn’t rushing to defend the wolf, however. She attacked the Lupine in fury, teeth bared, near madness in her eyes.
The first Lupine swung to meet her, and the two went down in an explosion of fur and snarls. Jace sat back to catch his breath, surprised. The two wolves were evenly matched, the male a bit larger than the female, but the female was plenty strong and agile. Probably dominant to the male too.
Jace let the female get her first anger out of her system, then he waded back in to rescue his rescuer.
The male Lupine had the she-wolf on the ground by now. He pinned the female with one big paw, snarling as he turned to Jace.
Jace gave him a warning growl. The growl said that, up until now, Jace had been holding back; that Jace was dominant in his pride, his clan, and his Shiftertown; and the wolf might want to think about it before continuing the fight.
The Lupine ignored the warning and went for the kill. Jace met him head-on, his lithe body and fast paws taking the wolf down to the ground before the Lupine could use his superior weight to his advantage.
The she-wolf rose behind the male, landed on the wolf’s back, and sank her teeth into his neck. Her Collar was sparking frantically, and she got hit by the arcs from the other wolf’s Collar, but she kept biting.
Jace drew back his paw and whacked the male wolf across the throat. The wolf spun with the blow, knocking the female loose. The male Lupine rolled across the dust and dying grass a long way before he was able to stop. He righted himself but stayed down on his belly, panting hard, conceding the fight.
Jace walked to him with a stiff-legged Feline stalk. When he reached the Lupine, he lowered his head to the wolf’s eye level and growled again. Stay the f*ck down.
Whether or not the Lupine understood Feline rumbles and body language, Jace’s glare must have gotten the message across. The wolf snarled, teeth bared, but he plastered his ears flat on his head and didn’t move.
Jace turned back to the she-wolf. She lay limply on the grass, and Jace went to her, giving her a cat’s lick across her face. She growled softly, and Jace licked her again, feeling a need to thank and reassure her.
The need didn’t leave him when he shifted back to human. He stroked her head, liking the wiry fur of her wolf.
The female wolf looked up at him in a wash of confusion. She was a gray wolf, with gray eyes. She breathed in Jace’s scent, wrinkling her nose, clearly wondering who he was.
Jace gave her head another stroke, wishing she’d turn back to human so he could talk to her. She’d run to his rescue, a Lupine taking the side of a Feline, and Jace wanted to know why.
The she-wolf remained wolf, still growling softly. Jace touched her head one last time and walked back to the male wolf. “New way of greeting guests in Shiftertown?” he asked. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Jace Warden. A guest of Dylan’s.”
Jace knew he didn’t need to explain that his own father was leader of another Shiftertown. The fact that Dylan sanctioned Jace’s visit should be enough for this wolf.
The wolf morphed into his human form, a man with short black hair and light gray eyes. “Hey, I saw a strange Feline trying to sneak into the fight club when he wasn’t invited, and when no one but regulars are supposed to know about the new place. What did you expect?”
“So you were defending all the Shifters here?” Jace asked with evident skepticism. “Commendable.”
“Ask that crazy bitch what she was doing,” the Lupine said, scowling at the she-wolf. “Nurturing females, my ass. She’s all spit and vinegar.”
“Let me guess.” Jace felt mirth. “She turned down your mate-claim.”
The Lupine gave Jace an incredulous look. “I wouldn’t mate-claim her. Not if she were the last female in Shiftertown. She’s out of her mind. You can never tell what she’s going to do.” The man made a broad gesture in her direction. “You saw her.”
“I thought it was nice of her to help me out.”
“Nah, she saw a fight, it sparked her loony side, and she dove in. Look at her. She’s not even sure what happened.”
Jace turned his gaze to the she-wolf again and saw that the man was right. She watched Jace and the Lupine, trembling but trying to hide it with a growl and a glare. Jace saw fear in her eyes along with deep anger—a woman hurting from something and not wanting anyone else to know it.
“I keep trying to tell Liam she should be put down,” the Lupine said. “She’s a danger to the rest of us.”
The she-wolf snarled again. Scent and body language told Jace what he needed to know—the female was dominant but of a different clan than the male wolf; the male was aggressive, cocky, and hated to be bested. The male wolf would be dominant in his clan as well. Jace outranked both of them, though.
Jace looked into the other man’s eyes. “Why don’t you shut your hole, get dressed, and go the hell home? You’re too unstable to be here tonight.”
The man tried to meet Jace’s gaze. He did pretty well, but in the end had to slide his eyes sideways. “What, you want some privacy with her? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Just go,” Jace said.
The wolf snorted. “Whatever.” He climbed to his feet and strolled away, not worried that he was naked.
The fight hadn’t attracted any attention. A sudden roar of voices within the arena told Jace why—there must be an intense match going down. The human voices were accompanied by roars and growls, since half the watchers would be in animal form.
Jace retrieved his torn clothing, grunting in irritation. He’d only brought two changes of clothes, thinking he wouldn’t be in Austin that long.
The jeans had escaped the worst of the shredding, and he pulled them on, the ripped seams stretching as he crouched down to look at the she-wolf again.
“You all right?” he asked her. “Who was that a*shole?”
The disgust in his question reached past the feral fear in her eyes. He saw clarity return, and then the wolf shifted into a female with a lush, lovely body, close-cut wheat-colored hair, and large gray eyes.
She remained in a crouch, covering herself, but Jace’s gaze traced the curve of her ample breasts, his natural need rising. She’d be worth sneaking off into the darkness with, maybe having a bounce with in the bed of a pickup.
No, she’d be worth more than that. This wasn’t a lady Jace would use to relieve horniness and then forget. Not with that gorgeous gaze pinning him flat.
“His name’s Broderick,” she said in a voice Jace wanted to embrace. “He usually wins A*shole of the Month around here.”
“No doubt. What did you jump in for? He’s right about one thing—it was a crazy thing to do. Two males with their blood up could have hurt you.”
“I saw him besting you. No one deserves to be pounded by Broderick for no reason.”
“He wasn’t besting me,” Jace said, giving her a grin. “I had him. And then he started kicking your ass.”
She frowned. “Oh, please. I was a few bites away from making him crawl away whimpering.”
As Jace hoped, his needling made her irritation erase her fear and pain. “Not to mention, your Collar was going off,” Jace said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
He placed his hand on the side of her neck, over the Collar in question. Ordinarily, Jace wouldn’t touch uninvited, especially not cross-species, but something in this woman cried out to him. She needed soothing.
Her eyes widened a little, but she didn’t jerk away. “What about you? Your Collar didn’t go off. You can dampen its effect, can’t you? Like Liam does?”
Jace let his fingers caress her neck as he chose his words. “That’s not supposed to be common knowledge. Need-to-know basis.”
“Maybe I need to know. Dylan’s trying to teach me, but I can’t do it yet.”
“In that case, I’ll give you some pointers.” Jace traced her Collar to the front, pausing when his fingers rested on its Celtic cross lying against her throat. “But I’d better find Dylan and tell him I’m here before the payback for controlling my Collar hits me.”
“Dylan’s fighting right now,” the woman said. “His bouts are always popular. But short. He should be done soon.”
Jace placed his hand on hers. He wanted to keep touching this woman for some reason, as though breaking contact with her would lessen him somehow. “Come with me. We’ll watch him win together.”
“No.” The woman started to rise, and Jace unfolded himself and helped her to her feet. She didn’t hide herself anymore, a Shifter woman unembarrassed by her body. “I have to go. Are you Jace? You’ve been to Shiftertown before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but why haven’t I met you?” Jace still didn’t want to release her hand. “I’ve made lots of trips out here, but I don’t remember seeing you.”
“I’ve been . . . sick,” she said. “I’m Deni. Deni Rowe.”
Deni watched him anxiously, as though gauging his reaction to the name. “Ellison Rowe’s sister?” Jace asked.
“Yes.” Deni still peered at him, waiting.
Jace tightened his hand on hers. “Why do you have to go? Stay with me and watch Dylan kick ass. You can keep other Lupines from jumping me.”
Deni didn’t smile. She glanced at the arena and the mass of figures there, and Jace scented her nervousness. “I can’t. Sometimes the fighting . . .”
“Calls to the feral in you? Makes you lose control?”
She gave him a startled look. “How did you know that?”
“Because I saw your eyes when you attacked Broderick. You didn’t dive into the fight only to rescue me. You did it because watching made you want to fight too. I was like that during my Transition.” Jace caressed the hand he hadn’t released. “All you have to do is hold on to someone. The touch will calm you and keep you tethered.”
Another startled look. “That doesn’t work. Even my cubs . . .”
“Bet me,” Jace said. “You hang on to a dominant, and he takes the heat and cools you down. Works. That’s what dominants are for.”
A spark of pride returned to Deni’s eyes. “And you’re saying you’re dominant to me?”
“Yep. It’s obvious. You outrank Broderick—I bet you outrank a lot of wolves—but you’re not dominant to this Feline.” He touched his chest.
She gave him a half smile. “And you’re not full of yourself about that.”
“Just stating facts.” Jace did not want to let go of her hand. “Let’s find your clothes and go. Unless you want to watch as wolf.”
Deni sent him another haughty look that made her eyes beautiful, but she didn’t pull away. “I’ll find my clothes.”
“Good.”
Jace left his shredded shirt behind—why bother with it?—but caught up his jacket and followed her into the darkness, her hand on his like a lifeline. A warm, sweet lifeline. He definitely wanted to know this Lupine woman better.
? ? ?
Deni’s heart beat swiftly as she pulled on the sarong she’d thrown off to rush into the fight with Broderick. Broderick’s scent of arrogance had enraged her, and she’d wanted to pummel him for jumping the other Shifter without challenge.
Then she’d felt her memory slide away, the feral thing inside her taking over. She shivered. Her wildness hadn’t receded until Jace had smacked the wolf down himself, and Deni had fallen away from the fight.
Jace hadn’t then turned around and kicked her butt, as he’d had a right to for interfering. Instead he’d touched her, licked her with his strange Feline sandpapery tongue, then held her hand after she’d changed back to human.
Deni was still shaky as they entered the fight club’s main area. Jace kept hold of her hand. It was a big hand, warm but callused, his grip strong. He was a fighter, a warrior.
If Deni remembered right, Jace Warden was the son of Eric Warden, leader of the Las Vegas Shiftertown. Jace was third in command there, the second in command being Eric’s sister. Jace would be in the most dominant Feline clan of his Shiftertown, and in the most dominant Feline pride of that clan. The top of the top.
Alphas usually bugged Deni, because they could be arrogant shits, but only concern and protection flowed from Jace. An alpha interested in taking care of others. What a concept.
The biggest crowd gathered around the central ring—the other two rings were empty. From throats, beast and human, came wild cries, delight in whoever was winning, groaning from those foolish enough not to back Dylan.
Jace moved through the throng to the ring. Shifters moved aside for him, most without noticing they did so. Instinct, Deni guessed—sensing that they should get out of Jace’s way before he made it an order.
A large man stood at the perimeter of the ring, arms folded, the Sword of the Guardian on his back. Deni always felt a frisson of dread when she saw the sword, whose purpose was to be driven through the hearts of dead or dying Shifters. The sword pierced the heart, and the Shifter turned to dust, his or her soul following the pathway to the Summerland.
The sword shimmered a little in the flickering light. Other Shifters gave the Guardian a wide berth, also uncomfortable with him. Kind of hard on Sean, Deni always thought, but Sean had been much less haunted since he’d taken a mate.
A human woman stood next to Sean—not his mate. She was the scrappy woman who’d tied herself to Ronan, a Kodiak bear, who was even now in the ring, fighting Dylan. The woman—Elizabeth—danced on top of the cement blocks, cheering for Ronan at the top of her lungs.
Sean would be standing as second for Dylan, his father. A second’s job was to make sure that no one interfered with the fight and that the other side didn’t cheat. Dylan and Ronan would go for a fair, straight fight, but other Shifters could be cunning. The seconds were there for a reason.
Dylan was the black-maned lion snarling in the middle of the ring, his paws moving lightning fast as he battled the bigger bulk of the Kodiak. Ronan was fully shifted to bear, his ruff standing up, his eyes alight with fighting fury. Ronan’s Collar sparked deep into his fur, but Dylan’s was quiet.
“Unfair advantage,” Jace said into Deni’s ear. “Dylan knows how to keep his Collar from going off.”
Deni had to turn her head and stand on tiptoe to answer into Jace’s ear. His hand in hers was warm, and she leaned close. “That’s why he only fights the strongest: Ronan, or Spike, who’s the champion. Sometimes Dylan lets his Collar go off on purpose, to keep things interesting.”
“But he usually wins anyway,” Jace finished.
He had a rumbling baritone that tickled inside her ear, his hot breath making Deni tingle even more. She squeezed his fingers a little, and was rewarded with an answering squeeze.
Ronan roared. His Collar was sparking, his mate yelling her encouragement, but Deni saw her worry. These matches weren’t to the death, but Shifters could be badly hurt in them.
Deni could scent and sense Elizabeth’s excitement tinged with fear. She also caught Sean’s tenseness as he watched his father battle. If something went wrong, if one of the Shifters was hurt so much the Guardian was needed, Sean would have to plunge his sword into the heart of either his father or his close friend.
Deni caught his sorrow—Sean had had to send one of his brothers to dust a dozen years ago—which laced through the sorrow in her own heart. Deni wished her cubs were here, her boys, but they were working at their jobs in the city, earning what little money Shifters were allowed to earn.
Dylan backed away from Ronan’s onslaught, ears flat on his head. He didn’t roar—Dylan’s roar could shake apart the town—but his growls filled the space.
The sound caught in Deni’s nerves, calling to the feral inside her. All Shifters had the instinct to throw off any polish of civilization, to revert to their wild forms, to return to the time when they’d been bred to fight and hunt. Even after a thousand and more years, Shifters retained the same basic instincts—fight or be killed, hunt or be hunted.
Shifters had come up with strict rules made to tame their inner beasts. To keep themselves from tearing each other apart after they’d fought free of their Fae masters, Shifters had agreed to certain rituals that must be performed in regard to mating, fighting, and even death. Take those away, and they were simply animals who could make themselves look human.
Deni’s motorcycle accident last year had robbed her of the veneer of calm Shifters strived to learn. The wreck must have jarred something loose in Deni’s brain, because she’d been fighting her instincts ever since, often losing. Knowing the bastard who’d run her down was dead had helped her begin to heal, but she wasn’t there yet.
In the midst of the growls, snarls, roars, and cheers, with the scent of blood and sweat pouring from the ring, Deni’s thoughts began to tangle. Her scent sense heightened, bringing in the excitement of the Shifters, the bloodlust in Dylan, the singed-fur smell from the sparking Collars, the strong male scent of Jace Warden next to her.
She probably would have been all right with Jace’s calming hand in hers, if the fighting Shifters had been anyone else, but Dylan had a powerful Shifter presence. Being alpha didn’t simply mean winning fights and scaring Shifters into submission. It was an indefinable something about the Shifter—scent, timbre of voice, subtle compulsion to follow this male. In animal form, it was more apparent, and Dylan was broadcasting his force loud and clear.
Since the accident, Deni had been able to use her animal senses fully in her human form. All Shifters retained some of their superior senses of hearing, scenting, and tracking ability when human, but they were muted, distant, able to be pushed aside so the Shifter could live as human without going crazy.
Not so for Deni. She had to constantly fight herself not to shift, attack, or even kill when she was confused, afraid, or angry. Going feral was the term. Her Collar tried to shock sense into her, but that only resulted in more pain, more confusion, more anger.
Deni smelled Dylan’s fighting blood, which announced to everyone there he was far stronger and meaner than the giant bear he battled. Ronan continued swinging his enormous paws, landing blows on the smaller lion. Dylan’s lithe body moved and flowed with the hits that would have crushed any Shifter who’d stood still and taken them. Dylan’s lion’s paws moved in a flurry, batting back the bear with the swift, manic strength of a cat.
Deni’s wolf howled to life. She wanted to leap into the ring, rush to Dylan’s side, and help him fight. He was her alpha—he’d been leader of all Shifters for a long time before conceding his position to his son. Ronan was lesser than Deni, and he dared to confront Dylan. Now Ronan must pay.
Deni clenched her free hand into a fist, jaw so tight it ached. She shouldn’t be here—she should have gone home and not let the compelling Jace talk her into watching the battle. She now wanted more than anything to break all the rules of the fight club and run into the ring. Ronan would knock her senseless before he could stop himself, but her wolf didn’t care. The bear needed to go down.
Deni started to growl, the sound rising in her throat. Her Collar snapped a spark into her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. And that terrified her most of all.
“Hey,” a deep voice in her ear rumbled. “Hold it together.”
Jace. His warmth covered her side, his stern command reaching her inner beast and stilling the need to shift. Deni realized her fingers had already changed to wolf claws, and fur ran from her head down her back, which was bared by the sarong.
Jace didn’t let go of her hand, though she felt her claws pierce his skin. He ran his other hand, warm and broad-palmed, up and down her back, which returned to human smoothness.
“Want to go?” he asked her.
Deni nodded. She couldn’t see much anymore—the fires and lanterns blurred into one whirling light, the shouts and growls blending into a mass of animal sound.
Jace tugged her away, again becoming the lifeline that drew her through the crowd. In the howling, swirling madness, Jace was a constant, his warmth pulling her onward.
He took her into the parking lot, turning her away from the lights. Once the cool night air touched her, darkness erasing the maddening lights, Deni drew a long breath. Her fur and claws receded, leaving her on her human feet, shaking.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Jace was saying as they threaded their way through parked vehicles. She heard his voice but didn’t pay much attention to the words. “I shouldn’t have taken you in there. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“It’s bad,” Deni said, nodding. She wasn’t concentrating on her words either. “I should have stayed home tonight, but I needed . . .” She shivered. “I don’t know what I needed.”
Not true. Deni had needed escape, life, not hiding in the dark. Her sons had gone to work, Ellison had taken his mate, Maria, out for dinner and probably sex, and the rest of Shiftertown had emptied to attend the fight club. Sit at home and mope or go out and be with her friends and neighbors? She’d been tired of moping, so here she was.
Deni’s uncontrolled instincts were punishing her now. Jace had known to take her out of there before she did something stupid, but the wildness in her didn’t calm. It needed release.
Deni’s wolf needed to fight, to hunt, to kill. Robbed of that, the she-wolf in her wanted the nearest thing to it.
She swung to Jace, his scent filling her, his strength calling to her. He was solid, strong, alpha, male, and he was here with her in the dark. She couldn’t have stopped herself even if she’d wanted to.
Deni slammed both hands to Jace’s chest. He caught her with a strong grip but fell against the side of a pickup, carrying her back with him. He had a musky male scent, a little wild, like the woods on a moonlit night. The moon was high and full tonight, always irresistible to a wolf.
Jace’s eyes were unusual, jade green, the color heightened by his tanned face and brown black hair he’d buzzed short. He was large too, but agile and athletic.
He watched her, not shoving her away, not angry. Just watching.
Another surge of sound came from the arena, human and animal crying out for blood. Deni snarled, pinned Jace against the truck, and kissed him hard on the mouth.