Feral Heat
Page 17
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?
Chapter Six
Don’t touch her, Jace’s growl said.
He knew Dylan understood him, because Dylan was staring back at Jace with full comprehension. Dylan was also angry, the short fuse of his temper not helped by his night in jail.
Jace knew he was violating all kinds of protocol, but he didn’t give a crap. Dylan had put his hands on Deni, and Jace had seen her first.
A faint, logical voice deep inside Jace told him Dylan’s reassurance of Deni was natural, and the intruder in this picture was Jace.
Jace kicked at the voice until it shut up. He knew if he rose from the swing, there’d be a fight, and he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t welcome it. If Dylan was a good Shifter and went along home, Jace would let him go. Otherwise . . .
Dylan started for the porch. Jace recognized the determination in his stride, having seen it in his own father often enough. Dylan was coming to teach the upstart Jace a lesson.
Jace held his place on the porch swing. The logical voice had just enough volume to tell him that no one in this Shiftertown would take his side in a fight against Dylan. Not in a real one. This wasn’t the fight club—fight club rules didn’t apply here.
Dylan was on the steps, moving slowly but menacingly. Jace saw a flash out of the corner of his eye, and then Deni was leaping from the ground, up and over the porch railing with Lupine grace. The fact that she’d crushed one of her newly planted petunias as she made the vault told Jace of her apprehension.
Deni moved swiftly in front of Jace, facing Dylan before he reached the porch floor.
“He’s tired and hurt,” Deni said to Dylan, words coming fast. “Like you are. Let it go.”
True, Jace was. But he was also enraged. A fight with Dylan would be fun. Lion against leopard—brute strength against finesse. Which would prevail?
Dylan looked at Deni, willing her to move. Deni held her ground—good for her. Dylan growled a little, then he looked around Deni to Jace, his blue eyes going Shifter white. “Den is right,” Dylan said, every word slow and deliberate. He was holding himself back from throwing Deni aside and going for Jace, and making it clear he was holding back. “We’re both exhausted.” Dylan’s gaze went to Jace’s neck, where Jace’s jacket had slid back again to reveal the loosened Collar link. “And you’re in pain. Eat something. Sleep it off.”
“Good advice,” Deni said to Dylan. “Take it yourself. Neither of you got much sleep last night.”
Jace remained silent, but he gave Dylan a slow nod. Dylan rested his gaze on Jace for a few moments longer, the weight of his stare palpable, before he turned and walked off the porch. He said nothing, not a good-bye or an acknowledgment, only strode away and back across the street to where Kim waited anxiously.
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?
Chapter Six
Don’t touch her, Jace’s growl said.
He knew Dylan understood him, because Dylan was staring back at Jace with full comprehension. Dylan was also angry, the short fuse of his temper not helped by his night in jail.
Jace knew he was violating all kinds of protocol, but he didn’t give a crap. Dylan had put his hands on Deni, and Jace had seen her first.
A faint, logical voice deep inside Jace told him Dylan’s reassurance of Deni was natural, and the intruder in this picture was Jace.
Jace kicked at the voice until it shut up. He knew if he rose from the swing, there’d be a fight, and he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t welcome it. If Dylan was a good Shifter and went along home, Jace would let him go. Otherwise . . .
Dylan started for the porch. Jace recognized the determination in his stride, having seen it in his own father often enough. Dylan was coming to teach the upstart Jace a lesson.
Jace held his place on the porch swing. The logical voice had just enough volume to tell him that no one in this Shiftertown would take his side in a fight against Dylan. Not in a real one. This wasn’t the fight club—fight club rules didn’t apply here.
Dylan was on the steps, moving slowly but menacingly. Jace saw a flash out of the corner of his eye, and then Deni was leaping from the ground, up and over the porch railing with Lupine grace. The fact that she’d crushed one of her newly planted petunias as she made the vault told Jace of her apprehension.
Deni moved swiftly in front of Jace, facing Dylan before he reached the porch floor.
“He’s tired and hurt,” Deni said to Dylan, words coming fast. “Like you are. Let it go.”
True, Jace was. But he was also enraged. A fight with Dylan would be fun. Lion against leopard—brute strength against finesse. Which would prevail?
Dylan looked at Deni, willing her to move. Deni held her ground—good for her. Dylan growled a little, then he looked around Deni to Jace, his blue eyes going Shifter white. “Den is right,” Dylan said, every word slow and deliberate. He was holding himself back from throwing Deni aside and going for Jace, and making it clear he was holding back. “We’re both exhausted.” Dylan’s gaze went to Jace’s neck, where Jace’s jacket had slid back again to reveal the loosened Collar link. “And you’re in pain. Eat something. Sleep it off.”
“Good advice,” Deni said to Dylan. “Take it yourself. Neither of you got much sleep last night.”
Jace remained silent, but he gave Dylan a slow nod. Dylan rested his gaze on Jace for a few moments longer, the weight of his stare palpable, before he turned and walked off the porch. He said nothing, not a good-bye or an acknowledgment, only strode away and back across the street to where Kim waited anxiously.
