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.