Feral Heat

“You don’t,” Fionn said. “You have to trust me.”

“Thanks. I feel so much better.”

It was then that Jace noticed he did feel better. The feral restlessness had eased from him, the pain of his Collar lessening. When he put his hand to his neck, he still felt the soreness—did he ever—but the certainty he’d drop dead any second had gone.

Fionn led him around three gigantic trees growing close together and stopped in front of a pavilion. Tent, Fionn had called it. Ballroom-sized living space, Jace would term it instead.

He followed Fionn inside, though his Shifter instincts did not want him to. The interior of the pavilion was as lavish as the exterior. It had been divided into rooms by tapestries hung from solid rods, and carpeted with rugs that looked as though they were made of woven silk. Low couches, chairs, and tables were scattered everywhere, and a large brazier burned with a fire that cut the damp.

“You call this living rough?” Jace asked, turning in a circle. Everywhere he saw light, color, and shimmering texture.

“You’ve been living in human rejects too long. This is what you could have in Faerie, and much better than this.”

“Not as a Shifter slave I couldn’t,” Jace pointed out.

“Possibly not. Though I don’t keep slaves. Any Shifters who lived in my realm would be free to come and go as they pleased.”

A fair-minded Fae? “Good to know,” Jace said.

“I can’t speak for other Fae, though,” Fionn said. “So if you went outside my territory, yes, you’d probably end up a slave or a mantelpiece decoration.”

“You’re so comforting.”

“Wine?” Fionn poured a golden, smoothly trickling liquid into a cup. “Best I can get out here. The good stuff doesn’t transport well.”

Never drink anything offered by a Fae. The old tales about Fae, passed down by Shifters, rang in Jace’s head. His dad used to tell him the stories, as had Aunt Cass. Jace said nothing, but couldn’t stop himself from taking a step back.

Fionn laughed. “You’re superstitious. But probably wise. I know Fae who try to drug, poison, or spell everyone they meet. You’re lucky I’m not interested. If I want someone under my thrall, I’ll take over their territory and let them choose between following me or being put to the sword.”

“What a nice guy,” Jace said dryly. Fionn held out the cup, but Jace shook his head. Even if Fionn proved to be trustworthy, Jace couldn’t be certain what Fae wine would do to his system, especially as traumatized as it had been lately. Fionn shrugged, lifted the wine cup to his lips, and drained its contents.

Jace looked around the lush living quarters, again reflecting that he felt much better. He was afraid to pursue why. If living in Faerie was the only way to stop Shifters who had their Collars removed from going feral, he’d rather take his chances being feral.

“So tell me,” Jace said, as Fionn poured himself more wine. “If this is more or less the armpit of Faerie, why do you come out here?”

Fionn lowered his cup. When he spoke, his voice was softer. “To be near my daughter.”

“Oh.”

Fionn raised his brows and drank deeply again. “Yes, I am that maudlin. But I had to give up Andrea for more than forty years. I want to spend as much time with her as I possibly can. And my grandson.”

“I get that.”

The hard-faced warrior suddenly looked much older and more vulnerable. “That’s why I conquered this part of Faerie. So I could see her without anyone being the wiser. I’m alone now, but Andrea makes life worth living.”

“You old softie,” Jace said, grinning.

“I am. I admit it without shame. Make yourself comfortable, Shifter. This might take some time. Dylan will send word when the way is safe.”

* * *

Deni didn’t want to eat, but she managed to choke down a burger Sean prepared for her, made with sautéed mushrooms and Havarti cheese, which Deni loved. Mouthwatering goodness, but tonight, Deni had no appetite.

The police still roamed Shiftertown. They’d interrogated the Shifters in Liam’s yard—including Deni, again—and now they wandered the blocks.

Deni noticed that they’d left the cubs who’d gathered at Liam’s alone. A large number of cubs had found their way here, sent by their parents for safety, and now they sat on the porch and its steps, devouring Sean’s burgers. Spike’s cub, Jordan; Olaf the polar bear; the older bear girl named Cherie; Liam and Kim’s little girl, sitting on Kim’s lap; and others from around the town. Andrea carried her son and helped Kim look after the kids, but mostly the cubs had been sent here because of Tiger.

The police hadn’t talked to Tiger much, leaving him and Tiger’s mate, Carly, pretty much alone. They hadn’t gone near the cubs at all, because Tiger had positioned himself between the police officers and the cubs on the porch. The officers, after taking one look at Tiger, had seemed to tacitly agree to stop even looking at the kids.

The cops might have the badges, armor, guns, and authority, Deni reflected, but in this corner of Shiftertown, Tiger had the power. The police seemed to know it, just as small animals knew they were prey for the cat that strolled by, even if the cat wasn’t attacking. They’d feel better once the cat was gone, and they could duck inside their holes again for safety.

Even after the police finally left the yard, Tiger remained on guard. The huge man with black and orange hair unnerved even the Shifters. The only adult truly comfortable with him was Carly, a Texas girl with honey brown hair who wrapped her hands around Tiger’s big arm and smiled up at him. She was just beginning to show her pregnancy, and the look Tiger gave her warmed Deni’s heart. Those two had found love. Knowing what Tiger and Carly had gone through, Deni felt a lick of hope that she too could find happiness—even with the Feline Shifter who was right now hiding out in Faerie, and who couldn’t legally be in her Shiftertown.