Feral Heat
Page 3
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.
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.
