Only then did he flip one of the switches beside the door, only one. A single light came on in the middle of the room.
Jace looked around. Nice. The main room held soft-looking furniture and opened to a kitchen larger than the one upstairs, with more upscale appliances. The refrigerator was stocked, he saw when he opened it. A Shifter could live down here comfortably for weeks.
A flat screen TV had been mounted to a wall, and a game console and controls sat under it. Jace smiled. Will and Jackson must have fun down here. Probably Ellison too. Jace thought about Cassidy at his house, and her prowess at the pool table. Deni likely held her own. Why Shifters liked to play RPGs, Jace had never figured out—they were shapeshifters and fighters in real life—but given the opportunity to take a new identity and kick a troll’s ass, they couldn’t resist.
Games were off-limits right now. Jace couldn’t risk that the humans upstairs wouldn’t hear. Shifter spaces were usually soundproofed, but soundproofing was only so good.
Jace figured Ellison would want Jace to stand with his eyes closed in the middle of the room and not smell, see, or touch anything. And then somehow wipe his memory of everything the moment he left. He had to smile.
In any other situation, Jace might try to keep clear of the Rowe family’s secrets. But this was Deni’s place. It held the essence of her, even more than the house upstairs did.
Jace couldn’t resist stopping by the tall cabinet that held books and a collection of framed photographs. Family photos. A tall couple Jace didn’t recognize must be Ellison and Deni’s parents. The photo was old, but kept with care.
Another older photo showed Deni, much younger, probably just past her Transition, with a male Shifter. The Shifter male, who had black hair and gray eyes, was a Lupine, big and rawboned, like most of the wolves. Deni leaned against him, a smile on her face, looking happy. Deni’s name was still Rowe, though, Jason mused. She hadn’t taken her mate’s family’s name, which meant her mate had been of lesser dominance than her, probably much less. These days, it was a female’s choice which name to take, but in the past, that choice had been made for her by whichever family was dominant. Even now, more dominant families would fight to keep their daughters under their name. Deni had been mated long ago enough that she’d likely gone along with the tradition.
Another picture of Deni showed her holding two wolf cubs, the pair bright-eyed. Will and Jackson, as pups. Deni’s mate must have taken the photo, because Deni smiled out of the picture at him, her eyes full of love.
More recent photos showed Deni with Will and Jackson as tall young men, all of them wearing Collars. Then one of Ellison cuddling the small human woman, Maria, both grinning. Ellison wore a more relaxed expression than Jace had ever seen on him.
Another was of Deni alone. The river was in the background, Deni in a bathing suit and wrap, her hair wet, the gold bracelet she liked to wear on her wrist. She smiled with all the animation she’d showed when she’d held her cubs. This was Deni happy, without the haunted look in her eyes. Before the accident, Jace figured.
A sudden savage fury rose up in him, filling his throat with growls. She’d been deliberately run down by a human trying to kidnap her. Though the man had been killed, Jace wanted the culprit in front of him, so he could have the pleasure of ripping his head off.
His rage rose so quickly that he started to shift. Then his Collar shocked him.
The pain was fierce. Jace dug his fist into his mouth to cut off the scream that had welled up, ready to burst out.
Son of a bitch. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe, rapidly repeating the meditation mantra to calm the Collar. The Collar shocked him again, and he balled his hands in agony.
What the f**k?
Jace found himself on the floor, arms curled around his legs as he rocked in pain. Flashes of rage went through him, followed by just as intense flashes of need. Need for Deni.
He needed her touch, her kiss, to breathe her scent. Her body against his. Another time of passion with her, another time when he’d bury himself inside her and be, for once in his life, complete.
“Shit,” he said out loud. This wasn’t mating frenzy. Or maybe it partly was. But Jace recognized his symptoms from seeing them in an unfortunate few. Rabid hunger. Intense need for sex. Quick to anger, ready to kill, especially to protect what was his.
Only two links of his Collar had been pulled away, not even that, but it had triggered the feral in him.
Shouldn’t surprise him, he reflected. Liam had said taking off the Collars made the instincts suppressed by years of wearing them burst out in a volcanic flare. The trick would be figuring out how to negate the effect.
For now, Jace had to control himself. Somehow. The police upstairs were interrogating the woman he wanted . . . but he couldn’t think about that. If he did, he’d rush up there and destroy them all.
Keep it together.
Funny, it had been easy to tell Deni to keep herself calm. Difficult to convince himself to do so now.
Jace yanked open the door of the cabinet—he stopped himself from simply smashing the glass and putting his hand through it. He took out the photo of Deni by herself, smiling cheerfully out at him.
He touched her face with his fingers, drawing a deep breath. Looking at Deni kept him cool, but barely.
Jace had to know what was happening upstairs. Were they taking away Deni in a patrol car, arresting her for whatever reason?
He clutched the picture to his chest, trying to still his need to run up the stairs and drag Deni to safety. He had to think.
Jace was smart—he’d designed most of the underground space and its gadgets in the house he shared with his dad and family in the Vegas Shiftertown. He’d been recruited to design the spaces in the new houses being built out there as well. What had he done to make sure they wouldn’t get trapped in their own hiding places, without knowing what was going on in the outside world?
He moved to the TV, made sure the sound was all the way down, and clicked it on. A little button pushing on the remote . . . yes, they’d done it too. Or maybe they’d followed Jace’s design, which Eric liked to brag about.
One of the TV channels monitored the upstairs. Ellison must have put cameras in the big living room and one on the front porch. They focused now, showing Deni standing next to Ellison, both she and her brother upright but easy, without defiance.
Four cops barred their way out of the room, the female one with the tranq rifle talking to them. Ellison and Deni answered, standing casually, trying not to betray nervousness through body language. Humans were not as good at reading nonverbal signals as Shifters, but some could be good at it, especially the police sent to deal with Shifters.