She could always take her revenge on Maeve by crawling all over her mate, but she had no wish to. Casey was personable but nothing to get excited about, and Jaycee was not a female who could fake interest in a male.
She decided to prod Casey for information instead. “No cubs are here, I notice,” she said.
Casey grew serious. “Brice’s rules. These parties can get a little wild.”
“Wild how?” A scan of the room showed her Shifters talking and joking together, but in a low-key way. At the last party she’d been to in the Austin Shiftertown, Connor Morrissey and the bear Scott—who had just come out of his Transition—had led a bunch of Shifters streaking. Shifters weren’t much bothered by nudity, but to have a stark-naked Connor, Scott, and some of the wilder Felines and Lupines run screaming through the partying Shifters had quickly turned the backyard gathering to chaos.
And had been funny as hell. The boy called Olaf, a polar bear cub, had chased the older Shifters, not a stitch on him, yelling at them to wait for him. His foster dad, Ronan, in his gigantic Kodiak bear form, had run after him. Pretty soon, all the Shifters were throwing off their clothes and joining in, some Shifting, some simply running, screaming with their arms in the air. Dimitri had laughed so hard he’d fallen flat on the grass, laughing up at the sky. Jaycee had decided to lie down with him, curling around him as Shifters leapt over them in a flash of bare human limbs and furry animal legs.
In this house tonight Shifters lounged on sofas and chairs or walked about, conversing. This could be a boring human cocktail party in a chichi suburb.
Casey caught her skeptical look. “Just wait,” he said.
“Whose house is this?” Jaycee asked. She sipped the beer Casey had given her, deciding not to mention that she liked wine better. Shifters were supposed to like the grain, not the grape, so she usually kept this preference to herself. Addie knew and made sure Jaycee could enjoy a glass every once in a while, but most Shifters who found out ridiculed her, forcing Jaycee to be a closet wine enthusiast.
“That, I can’t tell you,” Casey answered. “Not because Brice wouldn’t want me to, but because I don’t know. I assume a human. Or if a Shifter, that fact is hidden.”
Jaycee figured as much. But what human would let their house be overrun with Shifters who were settling in to stay here past their curfew? That human would be arrested, fined, maybe even jailed for harboring dangerous Shifters.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jaycee saw Maeve lead Dimitri out of the living room, heading for the staircase hall. Jaycee definitely didn’t like that. She started to follow, but Casey put a heavy hand on her arm. “Don’t interfere.”
Jaycee jerked back to him. “With a woman running off with my mate?” She opened her eyes wide. “Why not? She’s your mate. Why aren’t you going after her?”
Casey gave her a patient look. “Jaycee, there are certain things you don’t rush to control. Let things go. Your life will be easier when you do.”
Things like letting another woman drag off her mate? What the hell was this, a love-in?
Or maybe Casey was simply telling Jaycee not to jump to conclusions. A Feline wrapping herself around Dimitri and pulling him toward the stairs didn’t mean she was looking for a bedroom and sex.
Sure, and a leopard falling into a river she’d been certain she could jump across hadn’t meant to become a sopping ball of fur rescued by a laughing red wolf.
Dimitri and Maeve had disappeared. Jaycee could let them go, as Casey suggested, trusting that Dimitri wouldn’t give in to his natural Shifter horniness and his impatience with Jaycee. Trust that Maeve didn’t have more on her mind than showing Dimitri the historic architecture of the old house.
Or Jaycee could go after them and make sure.
She shook off Casey’s hand, set down her beer, and headed for the stairs.
“Jaycee, wait,” Casey called behind her, but Jaycee didn’t stop.
The staircase hall was deserted. The staircase itself was a graceful thing, lifting from the ground floor to a spindle-lined landing above.
Casey hadn’t followed her. He remained in the living room, his unhappy expression telling Jaycee he fully expected her to find his mate and Dimitri up to no good.
Jaycee smothered a growl and headed up the stairs, her fingers skimming the polished railing. The second floor had a light-colored wooden floor, painted white walls, and paneled doors leading off the landing, all of this lit by old-fashioned sconces.
Jaycee crept down the hall, moving as quietly as only a leopard could, and opened the first door. Behind it was a bedroom with furniture of dark old wood, but it was empty of Shifters. The second bedroom was the same. After that came a large bathroom with a claw-footed bathtub. The next room along was another bedroom, this one holding a canopy bed, a fireplace, a wide sofa, and Maeve and Dimitri.
Maeve was busily trying to push Dimitri onto the sofa and unbutton his jeans at the same time. Dimitri, to his credit, was clutching his waistband with one hand and frantically pushing Maeve away with the other.
Jaycee was across the room in an instant, locking her hand around Maeve’s throat and jerking the woman from Dimitri. Jaycee let her face turn to that of her half beast, her teeth becoming fangs. “Back off.”
Maeve whipped from Jaycee with the speed of a wildcat, her fingers becoming claws. The two faced each other, snarls rippling from Feline throats.
Dimitri hastily buttoned his jeans and stepped between them. “Stop! D-don’t fight over me. I feel like a p-piece of meat.”
“Shifters don’t cheat,” Jaycee snarled around him at Maeve. “You have your own mate.”
Maeve straightened up, her claws receding. “You don’t understand, honey.”
Jaycee didn’t like women calling her honey. She’d used the term herself in the same way until she’d understood how nasty and condescending it could sound.
“I’ll make you understand—sugar,” Jaycee snapped.
“Cool it, Jase,” Dimitri said in a hard voice. “I wasn’t going to let her touch me.”
Maeve regarded Jaycee coolly. “This isn’t how we do things around here—fighting all the time. The Goddess didn’t make us for that.”
What the hell was she talking about? “The Fae made us,” Jaycee said. “To fight for them.”
“It’s a common misperception,” Maeve answered calmly. “The Fae created us because they were following the will of the Goddess.”
“What?” Jaycee stared at her. “It was the Goddess’s will we were enslaved by the Fae and forced to do battle for them? Then had to fight a long and bloody war to get away them? The Goddess wanted all that, did she?”
Maeve nodded. “We learned how to fight and how to survive. See how we’ve grown?”
Jaycee’s mouth hung open. “Right—all the Shifters slaughtered in all those Fae wars were thrilled to be cut to pieces so you could learn to survive. Bet you never had to fight twenty thousand armed Fae by yourself.”
“Jase.” Dimitri’s sharp word cut through her speech. “Peace.”
Jaycee drew a breath to keep arguing, then clamped her mouth shut. Dimitri was right—best to shut up, no matter how enraged she was that Maeve had tried to go for her mate.
Damn it, this job had been so much easier when she wasn’t distracted by mate crap. It was going to drive her insane.
Before Jaycee could assure Dimitri she was finished arguing, the doorway darkened as Brice filled the opening. He filled it entirely—bears were big. He rested his broad fingers on the doorframe, his dark brown eyes taking in the scene.
“Maeve,” he said firmly, though not sternly. “Don’t scare them off before we’ve even said hello. Go keep an eye on Casey, sweetheart. You know he gets restless without you. Let me talk to these two for a while.”
Maeve didn’t look upset or apologetic—she smiled at Brice as though pleased he’d
chosen to speak to her. Giving him a nod that was almost a bow, Maeve moved past Dimitri and Jaycee without a word and headed for the door.
Brice moved to let her by, and Maeve brushed her fingers over his arm as she slid around him. Brice caught her hand, squeezed it, gave her a warm look, and let her go. Maeve headed down the hall, calling over the banister to Casey in a sultry, promising voice.
“Come, my new friends,” Brice said to Dimitri and Jaycee. “We’ll find someplace less intimidating to talk.” He waved his arm, indicating they should follow him, and turned away.
Jaycee exchanged a wordless look with Dimitri. He didn’t nod, didn’t even twitch his finger, but Jaycee knew he wanted to find out what Brice had to say.
Brice led them downstairs and through the big living room. Casey and Maeve were nowhere in sight.
The Shifters were finally loosening up and dancing to the music, some of them getting cozy with one another in corners. There were more males here than females, but the Shifters solved that problem by having several males cluster around each female, the females not looking unhappy about it.
Jaycee and Dimitri followed Brice to a door that opened to a stairway leading downward. As Jaycee prepared to descend behind Brice and Dimitri, she caught sight of someone across the living room, and she paused infinitesimally between one step and the next.
The man met her gaze with very black eyes, shook his head the tiniest bit, and went on flirting with a Lupine female who’d draped her arm around his shoulders.
Jaycee knew the man, had fought beside him. He’d gotten himself stabbed while trying to help Kendrick when Kendrick had faced dissension in his ranks, had been healed by a polar bear Shifter, and had gone on to help Jaycee and Dimitri defeat Kendrick’s enemy.
The man called himself Ben, though who or what he was Jaycee couldn’t say.
She turned wordlessly, hoping her expression hadn’t betrayed her, and followed Dimitri down the basement stairs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The basement was well lit and held a pool table and a bar with glasses hanging over it, a clear mirror behind the bar reflecting facets of light through the glasses. It was a setup Dimitri might like if he ever got his own place—that was, one bigger than the two-room tiny house he’d built himself on Kendrick’s ranch.
No one was here at the moment, the large room empty of Shifters. Brice stepped behind the bar, rummaged in a refrigerator, and came up with bottles of beer.
“I have wine if you want it, Jaycee,” he offered.
Dimitri watched Jaycee’s eyes narrow. She liked wine—why, Dimitri wasn’t sure—but she was obviously wondering how Brice knew that.
Jaycee gave Brice a stiff nod. “Pinot Grigio if you have it. Chardonnay would be fine too.”
“Pinot it is,” Brice said. He shot Dimitri a glance as if to say, Ladies can be so adorable, can’t they?
Dimitri gave him a tight smile in return. They weren’t friends enough to share jokes about Jaycee—no Shifter took to another that quickly.
Brice set the drinks on the counter and lifted his bottle of beer. Jaycee took up her glass, sniffed it first in suspicion, second in the way a wine lover tested its scent. Dimitri watched her rest the glass against her chest for a second, inhaling. She lifted the goblet to her chin, inhaled again, then finally stuck her nose in it.
“Nice,” she said, then poured a large dollop into her mouth and swallowed. No dainty slurps or spitting it out for Jaycee—though she’d once told him that the way wine tastings were portrayed in movies and TV shows was bullshit.
“I don’t know jack crap about wine,” Brice said. “A human buys the stuff for me—I guess he has good taste.”
“He can stock my wine cabinet anytime,” Jaycee said in a light voice. “So, Brice, how did you stick your hand into the fire without burning it?”
Dimitri nearly choked on his beer. He coughed, set the bottle down, and banged his hand to the top of the bar. “Jaycee,” he spluttered.
Brice only laughed. “It’s a good question. What do you want me to say, Jaycee? That the Goddess protects me with her magic? Or that I used a flame retardant? A stunt performer showed me how to do the trick. It’s impressive, right?”
Dimitri cleared his throat one last time and picked up his beer bottle. “Why t-try to f-fool everyone?”
Brice gave him a wise look. “Shifters, you know? They attend Goddess rituals and do the circle dances, but they don’t always believe. My faith in the Goddess is true, and I want to bring other Shifters into that faith with me. But some can’t be convinced without tangible proof of the Goddess’s love. So I show it to them. I don’t think she minds.”
“But Goddess magic is real,” Jaycee said. “You see it in the Guardians, in the healers, in the empaths. You don’t have to trick Shifters into believing.”
Brice heaved a patient sigh. “You wouldn’t think so, would you? The Shifters who have come to me are looking for something more in their lives—answers, relief from the tedium of life in captivity. They want to know their sacrifice—taking the Collars, living in Shiftertowns—is worth something. That the Goddess hasn’t forgotten them. She hasn’t, but sometimes they need reminding.”
“How do they not smell the flame retardant?” Jaycee asked. “How did I not smell it?”
Good question, Dimitri decided. Jaycee could scent a dropped acorn at a thousand paces. She could distinguish between five different wines Dimitri would swear were all the same, explaining in detail the multitude of odors within each.
Brice answered readily. “I mix it with scents I buy at a woo-woo shop in the French Quarter. The woman who owns it knows a lot about scent and masking it. And she likes Shifters.” He grinned. “Win-win.”
“You’re—” Jaycee broke off and took another sip of wine. “Not what I expected.”
Brice laughed with the deep vibration bear Shifters had. “Casey can be a bit of a fanatic. He recruits for me. I bet you expected an exaggerated version of him, maybe me foaming at the mouth while I prostrated myself in front of Goddess statues. That’s not my style. The Goddess will lead us to great things, and I do her will, but I don’t mind having a little fun on the way.” He lifted his beer, toasting them with it. “Shifter style.”
“Why do you w-want re-re-re . . .” Dimitri closed his mouth in frustration, the word not coming out.
“Recruits,” Jaycee said. “What do you want recruits for?”
Brice fixed her with his dark gaze. “It’s sweet that you want to finish his sentences for him, Jaycee,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bar. “But you might also be damaging him. Making him even more inhibited.”
Dimitri opened his mouth to say, No, she isn’t, but Brice held up a hand, stopping him. Jaycee had flushed, her eyes sparkling with anger.
“You care for him,” Brice said to Jaycee. “That’s obvious. But your caring might be hindering him rather than helping him.” He turned to Dimitri. “Do you stutter all the time?”
“Not when I’m seriously p-pissed off,” Dimitri answered. “Or shifting. Or making s-sweet love.” He winked at Jaycee, who flushed redder still.
Brice gave him a thoughtful look. “Stammering can be caused by abuse early in life. Did that happen to you as a cub?”
“I have n-no idea.” Dimitri didn’t mind talking about his past, because there wasn’t much to talk about. “I don’t remember a lot about my cubhood. My dad was a Russian timber wolf. My m-mom a red wolf. I remember them fine, but not what h-happened to them. I was found abandoned in the woods in North C-Carolina, and the humans who found me couldn’t understand me.”
“Because of the stutter?” Brice asked in a kind voice.
“Because I only spoke R-Russian. Maybe I stammer because I l-learned English late.”
Brice contemplated him with an interested gaze. “It can also happen because of a trauma. Something terrible that
would leave a deep scar.”
“If there was, I d-don’t r-remember . . .” Dimitri trailed off. He felt a sudden flash of heat, as though something burned him, heard a scream. The basement lights went dim, and he could no longer see Jaycee.
No. He sucked in a breath and thrust out his hand, with Jaycee instantly clasping it.
As soon as Dimitri touched her, felt her hand solidly in his, the darkness cleared and the screaming ceased. Jaycee squeezed his fingers and sent him a You okay? look.
Dimitri knew he would be as long as he focused on her. Maybe Brice was right and a terrible memory lurked inside him, one that had wiped his brain of everything that had happened before the backwoods human couple had taken him home. They’d been surprised to find that the little boy they’d decided to take care of could turn into a wolf.
Dimitri let out a laugh but didn’t move his hand from Jaycee’s. “The first time my foster p-parents saw a red wolf sitting in the middle of their living room, they tried to sh-shoot me. Both of them. I turned back to human, and they freaked out. That could have c-caused an im-im-ped . . . im-ped . . . Screw it.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?” Brice asked in curiosity. “Humans didn’t exactly believe Shifters existed before twenty years ago, and after that they thought we were evil.”
“I don’t know,” Dimitri answered, shrugging. “We never t-talked about it. They were g-grateful to have a k-kid, I guess. They were m-mountain people. Off the grid. Drank a lot. But g-good people.”
“What happened to them?” Brice’s question was gentle. Jaycee who knew Dimitri’s story, only listened, her beautiful golden eyes on him.
“H-homemade liquor, tobacco, and too much b-barbecue,” Dimitri answered. “No doctors in the backwoods. They hit the human age of fifty-five and k-keeled over.”
He said it lightly, as he always did, but Dimitri still grieved. David and Anna had taken him in, loved him, cared for him, and hadn’t minded that he was a Shifter. They’d believed God had given them a demon-child for some reason, but being demonkind wasn’t Dimitri’s fault, they said, and they’d care for him as God apparently willed. They’d been a little crazy, but kind.