Liam closed in on Jace’s other side. “You going to be all right, lad? No ripping into us, I mean?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Jace’s back, and he curled his hands to fists. “Let’s find out.”

“Dad should be here,” Liam said. “But he told us not to wait.”

“How did he tell you?” Jace kept his eyes on the hot tip of the iron. “He’s in jail.”

“He’s good at getting messages to us,” Sean said. “He wants us to start. He must know something.”

“Possibly,” Jace said. He clenched his jaw, fists tightening.

Something cold touched the side of Jace’s neck. A knife—a very small, delicate one, wielded by Liam. Sean held the iron competently between steady fingers and brought it close to Jace’s throat.

“The heat loosens the metal without tearing you,” Liam said. His knife nicked Jace’s skin, just barely.

“You know this how?” Jace asked. Neither Sean nor Liam answered. Jace didn’t want to move his throat by swallowing, but he couldn’t help but lick his dry lips. “Ah, so you don’t know.”

“We’ve done a lot of thinking on this,” Liam said. “Someone’s got to be the first.”

“Sean said you took Andrea’s off with a knife alone.”

“True, but Andrea’s wasn’t fused to her nervous system. Trust me, we’ll do this slowly. Only a link or two today. More tomorrow if it works.”

“If it works,” Jace repeated. “Your skills at reassurance are terrific, Liam. What a hell of a Shiftertown leader you must make.”

“Stop talking,” Liam said. “Stay very, very still.”

Jace was doing this for the good of all Shifters, he reminded himself. Shifters for years to come would benefit from Jace’s sacrifice.

It was that word—sacrifice—that Jace was having trouble with at the moment.

The knife blade cut. At the same time, Sean darted in with the iron. Searing heat radiated across Jace’s neck and down his spine. He felt a wildcat snarl begin deep inside but he tamped it down as hard as he could. If he shifted now, who the hell knew what would happen to him?

Liam and Sean backed off as swiftly as they’d gone in. Jace opened his eyes and shook his head, the pain easing. He blinked, realizing he viewed the other two through cat’s eyes. He relaxed his hands and found he’d gouged his own palms with leopard claws.

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.