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  Brice only said, “Hmm.”

  “It doesn’t b-bother me,” Dimitri said. “That I c-can’t talk, I mean.”

  “Other Shifters don’t give you hell about it?”

  “They do,” Dimitri conceded. “Then I k-kick their asses.”

  “You’ve taught them to respect your fists,” Brice said in understanding.

  Dimitri nodded. “And my c-claws, teeth, elbows, feet . . .”

  “Or he yells at them in Russian,” Jaycee put in.

  “N-no one understands that, though,” Dimitri said. “Not as effective as a t-takedown.”

  He remembered Kendrick giving him a meaningful look when he’d assigned Dimitri and Jaycee this task. They ridicule you, and it upsets you very much.

  Dimitri rearranged his face into a sorrowful expression. “It’s h-hell.”

  Brice gave him a nod. “I promise you, Dimitri, I will find a way to make your life less hellish. The Goddess can work miracles.”

  Jaycee took another sip of wine. “Are you a healer?”

  “Not exactly,” Brice answered. “I can’t put my hand on Dimitri’s head and make him dramatically lose his speech impediment. But I know things about healing the mind, and the Goddess will lend us her strength and magic. Will you let me try, Dimitri?”

  Dimitri gave him a skeptical look. Leaping at the chance would look more suspicious, not that Dimitri believed he could do anything anyway. “What do you want in return?”

  Brice shook his head at the question and looked sad. “This is what happens when we live too long in Shiftertowns. We lose our trust, our sense of helping each other for the sake of it. We’ve picked up human ways—we believe no one gets something for nothing.”

  Dimitri shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. S-sorry.”

  “You were raised by humans,” Brice went on. “That also contributes to your lack of trust.” He took on a patient look. “I don’t want anything at all from you, Dimitri. I want you to live your life in happiness and freedom. Those Collars, for example.” He gestured to Dimitri’s throat. “Take them off.”

  Jaycee froze. Dimitri didn’t move. “W-what?”

  “I know they’re fake,” Brice said. “I don’t invite Shifters to my hidden places without checking them out first. Kendrick’s Shifters all wear fake Collars to keep the humans fooled.” He gave them a grin. “Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me. No webcams feeding to Shifter Bureau. You’re welcome to look, of course.” He waved his hand at the shadowy walls and ceiling.

  “N-no,” Dimitri said squaring his shoulders. If Brice wanted a gesture of trust, he could give him one. “Jase—will you do the honors?”

  Jaycee wasn’t as happy about this as Dimitri, but she rose and moved behind him. Her fingers were warm on his neck as she pressed the catch to open the Collar.

  Dimitri exhaled as he pulled the Collar from his throat. His neck was faintly sore—the fakes were designed to impress the skin like the real ones did. Shifters who’d managed to have their real Collars removed—a slow, arduous process if the Shifter didn’t want to go insane with the pain—had raw and abraded skin around their necks for weeks.

  “That is freedom, my friends,” Brice said. He wore a Collar that looked plenty real, though Dimitri couldn’t tell. The Morrisseys in Austin gave fakes to Shifters who’d had their Collars removed, and like Dimitri’s, they looked authentic. “Jaycee?”

  Dimitri undid the clasp of Jaycee’s Collar before she could reach for it herself. He felt her flesh rise in goose bumps as he brushed his thumb and fingers over her neck, then her Collar loosened and released.

  He took it from her and bunched it in his hand, the chain warm from her skin.

  “Much better.” Brice gazed at Jaycee in approval, the heat in his eyes making Dimitri bristle. Brice noticed. “She isn’t your property, my friend. Females can make choices these days. A mate-claim isn’t binding.”

  “What about a mating?” Jaycee asked before Dimitri could snarl at him. “Under sun and moon?”

  “The Goddess didn’t actually come up with those ceremonies,” Brice said in a reasonable tone. “Shifters did. There was so much fighting over mates when we were left on our own that we created the ceremonies so Shifters would publicly recognize that certain females were off-limits. The human marriage ceremony is much the same—showing other humans that the two have made a pair.”

  “So, you don’t believe in the official matings?” Jaycee persisted.

  “I didn’t say that.” Brice didn’t sound offended. “I said it wasn’t a Goddess ceremony, though we’ve tied it to our beliefs. We use the sun and moon ceremonies to let other Shifters recognize the choices we’ve made. But you’re thinking about Maeve trying to hit on Dimitri.” Brice’s lips twitched. “I’m sorry about that. She and Casey are sun and moon mated, but they have an understanding. There aren’t as many Shifter females as males, as you know, and our gene pool is not large. So the females in my group choose the males, more than one if they want. But we’re not having a free-for-all, I promise you. No orgies in my house.” Another twitch of the corners of his mouth.

  “Glad to hear it,” Jaycee said. “If males I don’t choose touch me, they’re toast. I’ll tear into them before Dimitri even has a chance.”

  “Which is why I allowed you here, Jaycee,” Brice said. “You know what you want and aren’t afraid to defend yourself. I like strong females. I don’t want Dimitri to have to take time to fight for you—you can do it yourself. Some things will grow easier over time.”

  Dimitri wondered what he meant by the last statement, but he said nothing. Jaycee was good at asking blunt questions without making people angry at her. He’d learned to stand back and let her, absorbing the answers.

  Brice lifted his beer, took a long drink, and set the bottle down on the bar. “You’ll want to go back to wherever you’re staying and think about it, I know that. Return when you’re ready. But not here. Meet me at the bar. I don’t want to give the human cops too many opportunities to find me.”

  He leaned his hands on the bar, in no hurry to leave. Dimitri took a last swig of his beer and set it back down, the bottle half full. Jaycee had finished her glass of wine.

  “G-good night, then.” Dimitri let Jaycee’s Collar dangle from his hand. “Yours, my s-sweet.”

  Jaycee took the chain but Brice said, “Leave them off. Let the Shifters here know you’re free. Plus, if you wear them outside, you’ll have to dodge humans, and you’re now out after curfew.”

  Jaycee glanced at Dimitri, shrugged, and slid the Collar into her pocket. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll betray your secret location?” she asked Brice.

  “No.” Brice gave them a tight smile. “You’re curious, and I haven’t done anything more sinister you can run and tell Dylan about than praying to the Goddess and doing my trick with the brazier. You’re welcome to seek me anytime. I know you’ll soon understand.”

  Brice came out from behind the bar, his bear size dominating even the basement’s large space. He stood half a head taller than Dimitri and a good two feet above Jaycee.

  When Brice’s hand came down on Dimitri’s shoulder, Dimitri flinched, but not because Brice hurt him—the bear’s touch was almost gentle.

  But something sparked deep inside Dimitri’s brain, similar to what had flashed when he’d watched Brice with the brazier.

  I know him from somewhere, his thoughts whispered. It’s going to drive me batshit crazy until I remember from where.

  * * *

  Dimitri decided to head straight back to Jazz’s house, not stopping for a late dinner or a midnight snack even though without Collars they would have been able to go to a human restaurant. The indented line on Jaycee’s neck had faded by the time they’d said good night to Casey and departed—Dimitri assumed his had as well.

  As he pulled his motorcycle into the curved drive
, he saw that several rooms of the house were lit and the front porch light shone out, though Dimitri knew neither he nor Jaycee had turned on any lights before they’d left. The front door opened for them again too.

  Jaycee patted the doorframe as they went inside. “Jazz said it would be nice to us.”

  “W-who would be nice to us?” Dimitri asked, looking around in worry.

  “The house.” Jaycee gave the wood a final pat and strolled toward the staircase. “I’m beat. Mind if we talk about weird Brice and his tricks in the morning? Jazz told me to use her room. You can sleep across the hall.”

  She ran lightly up the stairs, no exhaustion showing. Dimitri watched her hips move in her tight pants, the light from the chandelier catching on her tawny hair. Every move she made was breathtaking.

  Dimitri went to close and lock the front door, but the house took over that job too. It was unnerving to see the bolts slide into place on their own.

  Dimitri decided to make for the kitchen, which was on the second floor, as the first-floor rooms had been left in their eighteenth- and nineteenth-century states for the tourists. He was starving—maybe he could find a box of stale crackers or something Jazz had left behind.

  The pantry and the refrigerator in the cavernous kitchen proved to be well-stocked. Dimitri opened and ate half a box of crackers that were crisp and salty. A frozen apple turnover, warmed up in the microwave, served as his fruit. He washed everything down with a pint of milk—fresh, not spoiled—drunk from the carton, and turned off the light, ready for bed.

  He didn’t want to know where all the food had come from. Just didn’t.

  Jaycee hadn’t locked her door. When Dimitri quietly opened it to check on her, he found her curled up under blankets on a four-poster bed, the tank top she slept in hugging her chest. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. Jaycee could always drop off in a heartbeat and awake refreshed and ready to go.

  Dimitri left her and entered the bedroom across the hall, which was filled with heavy furniture from the mid-nineteenth century. The ponderous bed had garishly carved head- and footboards, the carving repeated on the two night tables and vast dresser. A chandelier heavy with gilt and faceted crystals hung over the bed.

  Dimitri eyed the chandelier as he shucked his clothes and turned off the lights, hoping the house wouldn’t decide to drop the huge light smack onto his bed.

  He lay awake for a time, watching shadows on the white ceiling and plaster medallion that held the chandelier, thinking over what he’d learned.

  He couldn’t decide whether Casey and Brice were crazy or only trying to make their life in captivity easier. Were they working to betray all Shifters or simply finding refuge in rituals to the Goddess?

  Brice was right—he’d caught Dimitri’s and Jaycee’s curiosity. They’d go back.

  Dimitri pondered until his eyes grew heavy and he slept.

  He jumped awake, knowing by the shadows he hadn’t slept long. A groaning noise made him look up.

  The chandelier above him swung alarmingly. Another sound made him snap his head around, and he saw the dresser sliding back and forth across the wall, and then his bed started shaking. The curtains billowed at the windows, and the paintings on the walls rattled.

  Standard cliché horror-movie stuff. Dimitri admired whoever had programmed the effects.

  Then the giant bedstead abruptly came off the floor. It hovered a couple of inches in the air and then slammed back down, the impact sending Dimitri to its edge. He caught himself with Shifter agility, landing on his feet on the carpeted floor.

  He was about to yell Enough! when he heard Jaycee scream. In the next second, Dimitri was out the door and sprinting for her bedroom.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jaycee’s eyes popped open as Dimitri burst into her bedroom, its door banging into the wall.

  “Jase!” he shouted. “You all right?”

  Jaycee struggled up. Dimitri stood next to her bed, moonlight shining fully on him, though she could have sworn she closed the blinds. The white glow outlined his body and red hair and shadowed the minute pair of briefs that hugged his hips.

  Jaycee raked her hair back from her face, holding it in place with her hand, and looked pointedly at the briefs. “If those were any smaller, could they still be called underwear?”

  “What?” Dimitri blinked down at himself. His abdominal muscles rippled as he did so, then he straightened, stretching his equally impressive shoulders. “Screw that. I heard you screaming. I th-thought—”

  He looked around at the quiet room, his big hands balling to fists.

  “You thought what?” Jaycee raised her brows. “I didn’t scream. You must have been dreaming.”

  “No . . .” Dimitri continued scanning the room as though he expected something to jump out of the closet. “Sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” Jaycee looked him up and down. “Are you?”

  “Yeah.” Dimitri’s balled fists came up and he jammed his arms over his chest. “N-no. This house is fucking weird. Furniture moving all over the p-place. S-screaming . . .”

  “I didn’t hear anything. Are you positive you weren’t dreaming?”

  “I damn well wasn’t.” Dimitri growled at her. “S-someone’s messing with us.”

  “The house is haunted. Jazz told me all about it.” Jaycee gave him a look under her falling hair. “You scared?”

  “Of what?” Dimitri said in defiance. “I th-thought you were s-scared. Or h-hurt.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  Dimitri remained planted in the middle of the room. The house was silent, refreshingly so, private and secure, not like Brice’s place with Shifters crawling all over it. Jazz had confessed to Jaycee that she loved her house, where she’d lived happy years with her grandmother. She’d felt protected there.

  Jaycee understood. The house was a little strange, but after her initial uneasiness it had ceased to frighten her. Dimitri, on the other hand, looked haggard, as though he viewed going back across the hall to his room with the same enthusiasm he would jumping into an active volcano. Dimitri was fearless in the fighting ring, but a few doors opened and shut on their own and his face was gray, and not because of the moonlight.

  Jaycee flipped back the covers, letting in cool air. “You want to sleep with me? Just sleeping, I mean.”

  For once, Dimitri made no jokes. He was around the bed and slipping under the covers before Jaycee finished saying the words.

  She had to admit that Dimitri snuggling down beside her, she spooning back into him, was nice. Dimitri warmed the bed—and took up most of it, but Jaycee didn’t mind.

  He settled the covers, then draped a heavy arm over her. “Your hair s-smells nice,” he murmured.

  “Aw,” Jaycee said. “Good shampoo.”

  “Shut up and take a compliment,” Dimitri said without a stammer.

  “Sorry.” Jaycee told herself she shouldn’t tease him all the time, but it was difficult not to.

  Dimitri burrowed his nose into her neck. “I’m j-just going to enjoy this.”

  “No sex,” Jaycee warned.

  “D-did I say anything about s-sex?” Dimitri asked indignantly. “I’m not even t-touching any intimate parts.”

  “But you’re thinking about it. Like I said, that underwear is really small.”

  Dimitri chuckled, a warm rumble in the night. “Sweetie, I’ll l-leave you alone tonight, but I c-can’t promise not to think about it. I’m only so strong.”

  Jaycee was thinking about it too, that was the trouble. She went over the passionate encounters they’d had—the first one right after their Transitions when they’d been burning with hormones. It had been messy, awkward, and embarrassing.

  The last time had been in Kendrick’s house, when Kendrick and Addie had mated. A leader mating was powerful magic, which had permeated the entire Shifter g
roup. Dimitri had come to check on Jaycee, as he had tonight, and they’d made hard, swift love to each other.

  “You’re plenty strong,” Jaycee whispered.

  “Not about you I’m n-not,” Dimitri said, his voice low. “Now b-be quiet and let me hold you.”

  Jaycee closed her mouth. Dimitri’s body was heavy behind her, his arm solidly around her waist. The house made Jaycee feel secure, and with Dimitri around her she’d never felt so safe in her life.

  To moonlight, and Dimitri’s snore, Jaycee drifted to sleep.

  * * *

  She woke to music. A radio played loudly somewhere in the house, and sunshine poured through her bedroom window. It would be hot today, New Orleans sticky in August.

  Dimitri was gone. Jaycee tamped down the cool wave of disappointment, rolled out of bed, and pulled a pair of running shorts from her duffel bag. She knew the bathroom down the hall was stocked with thick towels, waiting for her, and she dragged on the shorts and headed out of her room.

  The door across the hall was open. Music blasted from it, along with Dimitri’s voice. Apparently, he’d forgiven the house or his dreams for waking him up—he was in the middle of the room in nothing but a low-slung pair of jeans, his back to the door, singing at the top of his lungs.

  Dancing too. His hips moved in time with the music, his voice rising to a falsetto to hit high notes. Jaycee didn’t know what the song was, but the word baby featured in it a lot.

  Jaycee leaned on the doorframe and watched. Dimitri was what she’d call aesthetically pleasing. His supple and strong back tapered to his very tight backside, which was cupped by the jeans, emphasizing his long legs and powerful build. She wondered if he’d put on a fresh pair of tiny underwear that morning, or maybe had left them off entirely.

  Heat stirred inside her, building what had already been smoldering. She didn’t need to stick her hand into a brazier to feel fire—she only had to look at Dimitri.