“We’re looking for the third element,” Dylan said. “Fae magic, computer chips, and something else.”

Fionn took the Collar gingerly between his fingers, held it up to his eye level, and scanned it. The small circle of the Celtic cross glittered in the harsh light of bare bulbs.

“Interesting.” Fionn ran a fingertip down the links. “Silver and black silver, which is a Fae metal. No iron.” If it had contained iron, Fionn couldn’t have held it—iron made Fae sick, could even kill them if they had too much contact with it. Fionn looked the Collar over again, frowning. “Sorry, I don’t know. My experience with metals is confined to swords and other bladed weapons. Not jewelry.”

“Well,” Sean said, letting out a disappointed sigh as Dylan took the Collar back, “let’s see what we can do tonight.”

He unsheathed the Sword of the Guardian again and laid it on the table. Jace thought Fionn would walk out, back to the circle of trees that took him to Faerie, but Fionn settled himself against the wall near Andrea and folded his arms, ready to watch.

“You did that before,” Jace said to Sean, sitting on a stool and trying to stem his nervousness. “Took out the sword before we started. Why?”

Sean shrugged. “I thought the magic in it might help figure out the magic in the Collars. Magic vibrations or something. The sword has done some interesting things.” He glanced at Andrea, who nodded. The two together had performed amazing bouts of healing, when both of them had been touching the sword.

“Ready?” Sean asked Jace.

“No. But let’s do this.”

Dylan held the knife Liam had used, plus an electric probe, while Sean stuck with the soldering iron. Jace balled his fists, setting his teeth against the coming pain.

A soothing coolness cut through the heat in his body, originating at a point on his wrist. Opening eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, Jace saw Deni’s hand, tanned from Texas sun, resting on his forearm. She looked at him, giving him a little nod and smile, her gray eyes warm. An answering warmth stirred in Jace’s heart, wrapping around his nerves and breaking through his fear of the pain.

“Hurry up, Sean,” Jace said without taking his gaze from Deni. “Other things I want to do tonight.”

“You got it, lad.” Sean brought the soldering iron closer as Dylan touched the electric probe to Jace’s Collar.

A vibrating buzz went around the chain, and then Jace felt the nick of the knife. The iron heated the silver, and the second link Liam had already loosened came free. Dylan quickly lifted a third, then a fourth.

The pain was there, but not as intense as last time. That is, until Dylan tried to loosen a fifth link. The Collar snapped back a huge arc that jolted Dylan backward and shocked hot pain into Jace. Deni jumped as well, caught in the current, but she didn’t let go of Jace.

Jace tried to clench his teeth over his yell, to keep quiet, but his body had taken over. Darkness clamped his brain, and through it he saw the Collar, a white band around his neck, every nerve outlined with fire.

His yell turned to a scream. The Collar didn’t want to let go of him. It clung tighter to Jace’s neck, the link Dylan had just pulled off fusing again to his skin.

Jace fell from the stool to the floor, landing on his knees, brutal pain the only thing in his world. Every nerve was crackling, cold washing through him followed by heat so powerful he burned from the inside out. He started to shift, but every bit of fur emerging from his skin hurt, doubling his agony.

“Jace.” Deni’s voice cut through the fog. Her touch fell like cool water on his burning skin. “Hold on.”

Jace heard other voices, too faint and faraway to bother with. “Shit.” “Andrea, can you help him, lass?” “Have you killed him?” came Fionn’s disdain. “Well done, Shifters.”

The only important words were breathed in Deni’s voice. “I’m here, Jace. Hang on.”

Jace clung to her voice, needing its warm cadence. His brain couldn’t form the syllables of her name, but it didn’t matter. He knew her touch, her warmth as she put her arms around him, on her knees too. He knew her scent, the low sweetness of her voice, the soft gray of her eyes, which went a lighter gray when he made love to her. Jace took a long breath, taking in the goodness of her.

The hurting eased the slightest bit. Underneath the pain, the tightness in Jace’s chest radiated a different kind of tingling—it still hurt, but without the brutal sharpness of the Collar.

Jace held his breath, wondering if the second pressure was what he thought it was. Through pain came amazing happiness and at the same time dismay. Not now. Not here. Wrong time. Wrong place.

“Jace.” The word cut through his agony.

Deni. She was Deni, lithe, beautiful. And a Lupine, for crying out loud. Their kids wouldn’t know whether to bark or meow.

“Help me,” he croaked.

Deni’s warmth covered him, her br**sts soft against his burning chest. “Hold on to me.”

She had both his hands between hers, her head on his shoulder. The Collar kept sparking, biting into her as well. She took up the dregs of the pain, jumping a little as the sparks bit deep.

Another female hand touched Jace, this one inflicting a new kind of pain. His nerves balled into one place of fire, Jace shouting with it, then slowly, it eased.

Jace drew a long breath and opened his eyes.

He found himself flat on his back in the middle of a circle of faces—Andrea, Sean, Dylan, Fionn, Deni. Andrea had one hand on the blade of the Sword of the Guardian, which was humming. Fionn’s long, thin braids brushed Jace’s legs, Fionn’s concern mixed with curiosity and fascination.

Deni raised her head and touched Jace’s face, her little bracelet making a faint jingling noise. She exhaled in relief.

“Sorry, Jace,” Sean said, his voice rumbling with sympathy. “You all right, lad?”

Jace opened his mouth to say he’d live, but nothing came out. He dropped his head back in exhaustion.

“Leave him be,” Deni said, suddenly brisk. “Sean, hand me that blanket. You all have tortured him enough tonight.”

Sweet of her to take care of him. Jace didn’t move—mostly because he couldn’t—and let himself enjoy Deni draping a thick blanket over him and lifting his head in her competent hand to slide a cushion underneath it.