Circle Of Death

'Or maybe, a reminder of what I am not.'

She tilted her head back and met his gaze. 'Will you show me?'

He frowned and brushed his fingers down her cheek and neck. A tremor ran through her, and deep down a familiar ache began.

'Are you sure you're ready to see it?'

'No.' But she was sure she had to see it before their relationship could progress any further. To trust him, she had to know him—both versions of him.

He nodded, as if agreeing with her thoughts. 'Then watch,' he said and stepped away from her.

For an instant, nothing happened. Then motes of light began to appear around him, fairy dust that glimmered silver and gold. It snaked up his body, blurring the night and his outline as it did so, until there was nothing left of him except for that glitter. Then it was gone, and in his place stood a huge black panther with dark blue eyes.

She gasped softly, but not from fear. Far from it. His shifting shape had been nothing like she'd expected. It was both awe-inspiring and beautiful, two words she'd never thought could be connected to such an act.

The shimmer appeared again, sweeping up from the big cat's tail and encompassing its body. Once again, Doyle stood before her.

'You didn't run screaming from the room, so I take that as a good sign.' Despite his easy grin, there was a hint of worry in his eyes and in his thoughts.

She nodded and somehow found her voice. 'That was amazing.' She hesitated, a thousand questions tumbling through her mind. 'But where the hell do your clothes go?'

He laughed, a rich sound that was edged with relief. 'I don't know. It's just part of the magic, I suppose.

I never really questioned it.'

'Is there anything that doesn't change with you?'

He nodded. 'Anything that's pure silver. That chain wouldn't, for instance.'

She touched the panther. It felt warm against her skin, almost as if it were a living thing rather than being made of stone. 'Why?'

He shrugged. 'Pure silver is immune to the force of magic.'

'Are your whole family shapeshifters?'

He nodded and sat down in the chair nearest hers. 'Except for my mother and one of my sisters.'

'And your children when you have them?'

He regarded her for a minute, a slight smile tugging his lips. 'My children, when we have them, will have a seventy-five percent chance of being shifters.'

She frowned. 'Why seventy-five percent? If your mom is a normal human, why wasn't the distribution of shifter genes fifty-fifty?'

He shrugged. 'Obviously the shifter gene is stronger. I'm not a scientist, Kirby. I'm a retired thief turned private investigator. Don't expect me to explain the technicalities. It just is , as far as I'm concerned.'

'Well, a fat lot of good that does my curiosity.' She hesitated and sipped her wine. 'What about control? Is there ever a time you come close to losing it?'

'It hasn't happened yet.' Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. 'I can see the question burning through your mind, and the answer is no—not even in the heat of passion.'

Heat flushed through her cheeks. 'Well, I guess that's something of a relief for everyone involved.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Everyone? Don't know about you, but I generally only go to bed with one woman at a time.'

'And I,' she said, in the haughtiest tone she could manage. 'Don't go to bed with any.'

He grinned and saluted her with his glass. Then he froze. Her stomach fell through to her toes. 'What?'

she said, voice edgy and harsh.

'A car coming up the driveway.' He quickly blew out the candles. Lights swept across the curtained windows, and the sound of a car engine seemed as loud as thunder in the silence.

Alarm swept through her. He touched her hand, squeezing her fingers lightly. 'Don't panic.'

'But what if they come into the house? What are we going to do?'

'Nothing yet. Stay here.'

He left the chair and disappeared into the darkness. A moment later she saw the curtain move slightly to one side. In the stillness, two doors slammed. Jaunty whistling moved away from the house, and a water pump kicked into gear.

He's watering the stock.

What if he wants to feed them? Our car is in the shed.

He's making no move toward the shed just yet. If he does, I'll deal with it.He hesitated . Someone's moving toward us. Grab the glasses and wrap everything else in the tablecloth.

She quickly gathered everything, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the glasses. He was beside her in an instant, one hand full of plastic bags and wet dishcloths. He took her free hand and led her quickly down the hall. Did you leave much mess in the bathroom?

Other than a damp towel, my bag and those oils you gave me, no.

Wait here.He let her go and disappeared again. She heard him moving about, then the sound of vigorous wiping. What are you doing?

Wiping the moisture off the bathtub.

Behind them, in the living room, came the sound of a key scraping in the lock. She shifted from one foot to the other, battling the urge to run. Hurry.

Hurrying will get us caught. Caution is the key, believe me.

Tension drew her muscles so tight they were beginning to ache. In the living room, the door opened and lights were swept on. If you don't move right now, it'll be caution that gets us caught.

He appeared out of the bathroom and ushered her into the nearest bedroom. Quick, under the bed.

She pushed aside the comforter and slithered under the old fashioned, high-off-the-floor wooden bed.

Dust stirred, tickling her nose. She held back a sneeze and pulled in the bags, towels and tablecloth that he shoved in, trying to leave him some room.

He'd barely pulled the comforter back into place when the hall lights came on. Footsteps approached, loud and heavy despite the carpet. Fear squeezed her throat so tightly she could barely breathe, and for an instant, it felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest. She closed her eyes, battling the terror pounding through her.

It's okay. We're okay.He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, but his attention was on the hall outside. They were hardly out of the woods yet.

The footsteps moved past their bedroom hideaway, and another light burned brightly. After a few seconds came the sound of soft tinkling.

Despite her fear, laughter bubbled through her. They were using the damn toilet!

Minutes ticked by. Finally, the toilet flushed, lights went out and the footsteps moved back down the hall. But they didn't entirely retreat. From the kitchen came the sound of running water.

They're filling something.He shifted around until he was facing her.

Oh God, don't tell me they're settling in to have a cup of coffee.

Could be. There's nothing much we can do but wait them out.

He pulled her close. Then he slipped his hand down to her rear, and pulled her closer still, so that every inch of their bodies seemed to be touching. Her breath caught, and her heart raced, but not from fear this time. Far from it. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire, and part of that came from the deliciously erotic sensation of lying here in the darkness with him, while the chance of discovery loomed only a few footsteps away.

We shouldn't… this is dangerous.Lord, even her mind-voice sounded breathless.

We're only lying here. What can be so dangerous in that?But even as the words whispered into her mind, he slowly began undoing her shirt buttons.

You need to concentrate on our intruders, not on trying to seduce me.She tried to add a touch of sarcasm to her thoughts, but failed miserably. They still sounded as breathy as she was