“I’m a f-fighter,” he said. “Not a sp-spell-c-c-c . . .”
“Neither am I,” Jaycee said. “A spell-caster. I wouldn’t know a ley line if it hit me in the face.”
Ben circled the area, peering into dim corners. “Well, I would. They hit me in the face a lot.” He shook his head. “But if one is here, it’s subtle.”
He glanced around one more time, a puzzled look on his face, before he shrugged and led the way out.
Dimitri made for the veranda, Jaycee a step behind him. The stuffiness of the basement had bothered him—he wanted open air, a breeze.
The humidity of the August day smacked him as he walked out the door, the heat stifling. Dimitri peeled off his T-shirt and plumped down on a bench in the gazebo. He was outside, in the shade—this was fine. The rose vines that covered the house, yellow roses everywhere, cut the bright sunshine and some of the heat.
Jaycee sat down next to him. “Feels like it might rain.”
Clouds were building in the south, the top of the thunderheads brilliant white in the sunshine, their undersides black.
“Good. Might c-cool things off.”
“What do you want to do?” Jaycee was close to him on the bench, her thigh touching his. “Try to find out more about Brice before we see him again? Wait for him to call? I have the feeling those other Shifters wait by the phone for him to get in touch.”
Dimitri’s curiosity stirred beneath the heat and the heaviness of the air. “I wonder how they all c-communicate. Internet forum? Social m-media group?”
“We should have asked to join,” Jaycee mused.
“W-we probably have to be invited.” Dimitri leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “W-we could t-try to search. But I’m n-not good with c-computers.”
“Neither am I,” Jaycee answered. “But I know someone who is. Broderick’s mate Joanne. She used to be a hacker.”
“T-true.” The quiet-spoken young woman was a frigging genius, according to Broderick. Plus she had the fortitude to put up with Broderick, which made her a saint, in Dimitri’s opinion.
“I’ll call her,” Jaycee said. She leapt to her feet, eager and energetic. “Better than just sitting here.”
“I don’t know.” Dimitri ran his gaze down her body, lingering on her full breasts in her V-necked shirt, then moving to her beautiful face and shining eyes. “It’s nice to s-sit once in a while. We do t-too much running around.”
Jaycee put one hand on her hip. “We’re trackers. It’s our job to run around.”
“But s-sometimes”—Dimitri traced Jaycee’s fingers where they rested on the tight leggings she wore—“it’s g-good to s-stop.”
Jaycee’s face softened. “I know.” She scissored her fingers together, catching his larger ones. “We’re not alone though. We were alone, but now there’s company.”
Ben hadn’t followed them to the veranda. From inside came the banging of a door, and Ben’s voice. “Well, cool.”
Jaycee rolled her eyes. Dimitri shot her a smile. “Should we see what he’s up t-to?”
“Probably.” Jaycee didn’t move. “I like it here—in this house, I mean. I feel like we’re out of the way—distanced might be a better word. Distanced from all the worries about being caught outside a Shiftertown, without Collars; worry what other Shifters are up to. Here, I feel like all that’s far away. Unimportant.”
“A good place to stop.” Dimitri firmed his hand on hers. “And sit.” He tugged her to him. She started to sink down next to him again, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
Jaycee relaxed against him, her restlessness fleeing. The humid air made her face bead with perspiration, a drop of it on her lips. Dimitri kissed it away.
Be my mate, Jase, he wanted to say. We’ll have every day like this, to hell with the world while we hold each other.
Jaycee was looking at him, Dimitri very aware of her focus on him. Her breasts rested against his chest, every intake of her breath sinking her closer to him.
Jaycee’s eyes drifted closed as she softly kissed him. Her lips were warm, damp from the heat, the flick of her tongue through his mouth enough to ignite him.
Ben had very bad timing. If he hadn’t arrived, Dimitri would carry Jaycee back upstairs to her bed for the day. They couldn’t do much investigating until dark anyway, when the clubs opened and they could look for Brice and his followers. Once they got closer to Brice’s group, if they could, or invited in to stay with them, he and Jaycee wouldn’t have much opportunity to be alone together. They’d have to be alert for danger at all times, with no time to sit in quiet intimacy, letting the world go by.
This house, for all its strangeness, felt safe. They could remain within its walls and make love all day, and it would take care of them.
Dimitri shut out his thoughts and concentrated on kissing Jaycee. He felt her strong hands on his back, her mouth on his, her soft backside on his thighs, making his already hard cock harder still. Her hair in its ponytail was sleek against his fingers, her breath hot on his cheek.
This woman was the only one for him. Had always been. They’d been friends for years, always looked out for each other. Dimitri wanted that camaraderie to last forever, and he wanted this woman in his bed. He wouldn’t mind cubs too, little leopards gamboling all over the place.
Jaycee drew back from the kiss and cupped Dimitri’s cheek. Her eyes were half closed, the brown of them touched with gold. Leopards purred, and Jaycee was doing it now.
The last time Dimitri had made love to her, it had been quick and fierce, both of them grappling each other. Dimitri wanted the next time to be like this, the two of them lying in slow, sultry heat, making love as the day went by.
The only reason to get up would be to bring food back to the bed, maybe a run in animal form if they got too restless. A run would wind them up again, and they’d be making love with even more fervor.
Do it. Ignore Ben.
The words whispering through his brain seemed to come from outside him. Jaycee smiled at him, no more hesitation.
A crash came from inside the house. “Oops.” Ben’s voice drifted to them.
At the same time, a stiff breeze swept down the veranda, dancing through the row of wind chimes. A rumble of thunder followed.
Then Ben said abruptly, “Okay, that’s just wrong.”
Jaycee jumped, her alertness returning. She and Dimitri exchanged a glance, then they both scrambled up at the same time and made for the house. Wind and thunder poured after them, as well as the first spattering of rain. The door, left open, slammed itself behind them, and the bolts clicked closed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dimitri pushed his way in front of Jaycee as they ran down the hall. He always would, she realized. Protect her. Of course, this did give her a chance to watch his ass move in his formfitting jeans, his bare back supple above it. He’d left his shirt on the veranda.
Ben was at the front of the house, in a small sitting room. There wasn’t much to the room, only a few chairs and a small table in the eighteenth-century French style—a room more for sitting still and admiring the wallpaper and gilded furniture than for any kind of gathering.
Ben was rattling the knob of a door set into one wall, its doorframe curving seamlessly into the blue silk wallpaper that was painted with flowers and colorfully plumed birds.
“You have the key to this?” Ben asked as Dimitri and Jaycee dashed into the room.
Jaycee fought irritation that something so innocuous had brought them running. “Jazz said all the keys are in the hall table,” she said as she caught her breath.
“Found those,” Ben said, peering to examine the lock. “But this looks like no keyhole I’ve ever seen.”
Jaycee darted around Dimitri before he could stop her. She was quick and curious, like the cat inside her.
She crouched down to see what Ben pointed out. The keyhole was odd, larger at the bottom than the top, and shaped, she thought, like a rosebud. An upside-down one.
“None of the keys fit,” Ben said. “And do you notice something about this door?”
“It’s on an outside wall,” Jaycee said. “So? It might lead to the porch.”
“Does it?” Ben’s dark eyes were a mystery. “Take a look.”
A long window opened in the wall about five feet from the door. Jaycee pushed back the lace curtains, undid the window’s catch, and opened the casement, letting in a rush of wind and the smell of rain.
The window was tall enough that a person could use it for a door. Jaycee stepped over the sill and onto the front veranda. Dimitri came directly behind her, his body heat warm on her back, his breath on her neck.
The wall was blank where the door should be, the bricks running unbroken to the next window, which opened from the room beyond.
“All right,” Jaycee said. “I agree, that is wrong.”
Wind whipped down the porch, clouds blotting out the sunlight. Thunder rumbled, closer now, the ground vibrating with it. Jaycee shivered. She didn’t like storms.
Dimitri ushered Jaycee back inside and shut the window. Rain began to come down, pattering loudly on the porch roof.
Ben was on his knees, scraping at the lock with a thin piece of metal. “Things like this bug me. I have to know.” The metal slipped, and he muttered a word Jaycee had never heard before. “Wish my hands were a little more skilled.”
“Let me.” Jaycee slid in with leopard grace, dropped to her knees, and grasped the lockpick.
Ben gave it to her without argument. “You know how to pick locks?”
“You’d be amazed at what trackers learn.”
She was as curious as Ben as to where this door went. She scented danger, but that did not erase her curiosity.
“Maybe it’s a door to N-Narnia,” Dimitri suggested.
Ben grunted. “Don’t even say that in a house like this. You never know what kind of magic it can produce.”
“They have t-talking animals there,” Dimitri said. “We’d f-fit right in.”
“I remember those stories,” Jaycee said. “One had a werewolf in it, but he was evil and got killed. So watch yourself.”
“I liked the m-mouse,” Dimitri said. “He had attitude.”
“Will you two stop?” Ben growled. “Words are magic, all right? You never know what saying them will cause.”
Jaycee snapped her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure what Ben meant, but then, he’d lived a thousand years, part of them in Faerie, and was probably right about the dangers of anything smacking of magic.
Thunder cracked overhead. More rain poured down, and the windows rattled.
The lockpick slipped, came down on Jaycee’s wrist, and nicked it, drawing a thin streak of blood. She snarled in irritation and patiently inserted the pick into the lock again.
A sharp gust of wind blew open the window Dimitri had closed. Rain pelted into the room before Dimitri could spring up and shut it again.
He halted at the window’s opening. “Shit!”
“What?” Jaycee looked up, but she could barely see Dimitri in the swiftly fading light.
“I d-didn’t think they had tornadoes here.”
Jaycee scrambled to her feet and hurried to him, Ben behind her. The clouds to the south were low and black, roiling with wind. The same wind shrieked through the eaves, pulsing against the house and pushing Jaycee back a step.
A finger of cloud reached down from the thunderheads, scattering debris before it.
“You can have tornadoes anywhere,” Ben said. “If conditions are right.”
Conditions seemed to be right at the moment. The finger receded into the sky but another snaked down, then a second. Both disappeared, but another, larger one moved toward the earth.
Behind the noise of the wind came the sound of warning sirens. Ben’s phone started dinging at the same time.
He snatched it from his pocket and looked at it. “Tornado warning,” he said, reading his screen. “No, really?”
“Basement,” Dimitri said firmly.
“Won’t help in this case,” Ben argued. “Nothing’s underground.”
“Bathroom,” Dimitri said. Jaycee, experienced from living in Texas, understood what he meant. A first-floor bathroom with no windows and a sturdy walled shower might withstand the winds or at least provide some shelter.
“All on the second floor,” Jaycee answered. “The ground floor is historically accurate.”
“Great,” Dimitri said, staring at the funnels appearing and disappearing into the cloud. “Where d-did historically accurate people hide from st-storms?”
“Hell if I know,” Jaycee said. “How about under the dining room table? That thing’s massive.”
“Right.” Ben turned to lead the way. “Dining room.”
As she started to follow, something made Jaycee freeze, her Feline senses tensing. Her leopard wanted to arch her back and hiss.
She didn’t know why she was having this reaction—her cat instincts had been alerted by something more than the storm. Then she saw the rose vines. Dimitri halted in the act of turning to follow Ben, and Ben came hurrying back.
Jaycee had thought the roses covering the house beautiful, blooming yellow, climbing over everything. Now, as Jaycee watched, the vines around the porch pillars began to flow toward one another, touching and then locking together. They created a mesh that covered the space between veranda posts, then flowed down like a river of green to crawl across the porch and up the windows to cover them.
Dimitri, closest to the sitting room window, backed away, herding Jaycee behind him. The vines crossed the window, blocking the rest of the light and most of the wind. Breezes slid between the cracks in the branches, but the gale that had blown through the room suddenly died.
Jaycee gazed at a lattice of rose canes crossing and crisscrossing, leaves squashed, blossoms drooping. Ben darted from the room, heading to the one next to it. Jaycee wanted to follow, but she found herself unable to move, fascinated by the intertwining vines.
“It’s the same all over,” Ben said, returning to them. “All the windows and the front door. Probably the back one too.” He stared at the mass of branches over the windows and shook his head. “So not natural.”
“It’s the house,” Jaycee said in a subdued voice. “It’s protecting us.”
The building shuddered—not with the strange vibrations it made on its own, but as though something had struck it.
Wind, Jaycee realized in the next moment. It hit the house with the momentum of a freight train, the sound a loud, echoing boom.
If the windows hadn’t been covered with the vines, they would have broken. The walls continued to shake, the house rattling, bits of plaster falling from the ceiling.
Dimitri reached for her to gather her against him, and Jaycee didn’t fight him. She leaned into his chest, hearing his heart beating rapidly, feeling the sharp rise and fall of his breath. He closed his arms around her as though he alone could shield her from the storm.
She let him hold her, his warm strength easing her. Jaycee didn’t enjoy storms, and in Texas they’d had to ride out bad ones. When they’d lived in the underground bunker—where they’d sheltered when Kendrick had first led them to Texas—they’d been able to hide well from the weather, but since moving to the ranch, they’d had to face it.
Jaycee didn’t know why distant rumbles of thunder made her tense, why a sudden change in humidity made her growl. Her leopard didn’t like it, was all she knew.
Dimitri always laughed at her whenever she bolted indoors at the first flicker of lighting, but at the moment, he was as tense as she was. Of course, tornado winds striking the house were something to be afraid of. Those winds were deadl
y, and being Shifter wasn’t going to save them. To the storm, they were just one more thing in its path.
Dimitri had his eyes closed, his arms tight around Jaycee. His face had gone gray in the darkness, his heartbeat off the scale. His skin was clammy with sweat, the dampness of it cool though his body was roasting hot.
“You okay?” Jaycee whispered.
Dimitri didn’t respond. He was rigid, fingers biting down.
“This house is holding pretty good,” Ben told them. “It’s stood in this spot for this long. We’ll be fine.”
As if in answer, there was a horrendous crash from the hall. Ben leapt out the door. Dimitri jerked alert, unwound himself from Jaycee, and went after Ben only to find him right outside the sitting room, his arms out to hold them back.
“Wall came down in the front corner. We need to get out of here before the storm pulls down the rest.”
“How?” Jaycee demanded. The window behind them was blocked with vines. The darkness in the hall told her all the others were too.
Ben had a flashlight beaming along the corridor. “Tear through the vines on the back door?”
“Then what?” Jaycee asked with a shiver. “We hope we don’t get sucked up by a tornado?”
“We can’t get out,” Dimitri said in a hoarse whisper. “It’s t-trapped us.”
“Dining room table,” Jaycee said decidedly.
She started that way, but she’d taken only three steps down the hall when Dimitri abruptly grabbed hold of her and hauled her back into the sitting room. Before Jaycee could argue, he’d pushed her to the floor and landed on top of her. Ben cried out, and then there was a crashing, splintering roar, the smell of dust, and then pain.
* * *
Dimitri kept Jaycee under him no matter how much she squirmed to get up. Debris rained down on them—boards, plaster, vines. His brain swam and spun, wind and dust smelling like the charred remains of burning wood, the ice-cold blast searing like fire.
Memories rose and then faded, past and present swirling together until Dimitri didn’t know what was real.
The only thing anchoring him to the world was the soft body of Jaycee beneath him. She was his mate, and she was everything.
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