“Secrets like the fact that the Collars don’t work? Or that some Shifters don’t even wear them?”
Liam gazed into the distance. “It’s not quite that simple.”
“Then explain to me what’s going on.” She softened her tone. “Believe me, I’ll do what I can to get Brian exonerated, but bringing down your family isn’t what I had in mind.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Liam said mildly.
“So how is it possible that you killed that Shifter?” Kim asked. “The Collars really don’t work?”
“Oh, they work, love.” His eyes were clouded. “They work.”
“May I look?”
Liam nodded. Kim knelt back on her heels to examine the thin black and silver chain around his throat. She lifted his hair at the back of his neck, wishing it wasn’t all warm and silky and distracting.
The chain had no clasp and was fused to his skin, the links snug but not tight. A Celtic knot rested at the base of his throat. When Liam had been in his wildcat form in her bedroom, she’d seen the glint of the Collar against his fur.
“How did it not strangle you when you shifted?”
“When the Collar goes on, it becomes a part of the Shifter. Don’t ask me to explain the technology or the magic, because I don’t understand it myself. The Collar allows us to change to our animal forms—because if we were denied that we’d die. Our animal form is part of us, with us at all times. So the chain adapts to it.”
Kim ran her fingers around the Collar, feeling the cool contrast of the silver with his hot skin, the bump of the Celtic knot. “What do you mean by ‘the magic’? It’s triggered by your adrenal system, isn’t it? To shock you or tranquilize you when your chemical balance changes, right?”
Liam chuckled. “You saw me shift from cat to man, and the wolf die away to dust under Sean’s sword, and you still don’t believe in magic?”
“Not really. There’s an explanation for even the most bizarre things.”
“Remind me to take you to Ireland someday. I’ll show you magic. An Irishman made these chains, an old man who was permeated with magic himself.”
“A leprechaun?”
Liam laid his head back and laughed. Kim’s hand was still on his neck, and catching his head in her palm felt intimate and warm.
“No, sweetheart, no little men in green with shamrocks. The man who made the first Collars was half Fae. Your government—and others in the world where Shifters are allowed to live—agreed that the old mage could supply the chains that keep us weak.”
“You keep talking about Fae. What’s Fae?”
“Sometimes called Fair Folk or fairies, but they’re not cute little people with wings. The Fae are ancient and arrogant beings who once regarded the earth as theirs. Terrifying, they are. They made Shifters to be their pets, their hunting beasts, but we weren’t having any of that.”
Kim wasn’t certain how much of this she bought, and she couldn’t tell if he believed it himself or was having her on. “You said the man who made the chains was half Fae. Do you mean he’s dead now?”
“He is. But he passed the knowledge to his son. The son stays hidden away in Ireland and sends the Collars as they’re needed.”
“How was it that you could fight and kill the feral Shifter then? Or do the Collars work only if you try to attack humans?”
“No, like you said, the Collars are keyed to our adrenal systems. Doesn’t matter who we’re violent toward. But some of us have found ways to…delay…the system. It’s painful, but it can be done.”
Liam met her gaze calmly, but something raged behind his eyes. He’d changed since he’d come into this room, but she couldn’t put her finger on how. “You’ve learned how to override yours, you mean,” she said.
Liam shrugged again, but his shoulders remained hunched. There it was—the key. Instead of Liam the strong and protective, he’d withdrawn into himself. He’d talked with her and smiled at her, but his thoughts were far away.
“I have,” he said. “I only override it when necessary.”
“Like tonight.” Kim touched his chest, feeling his heart beating too rapidly beneath her fingers. “And that hurt you?”
“It did, love. That’s why I’m sitting quietly on this bed and leaving your beautiful self alone. My entire body is brutal raw with pain.”
Chapter Eight
Liam hadn’t lied; he hurt like hell.
Kim’s eyes went wide with shock. “But we were dancing half an hour ago.”
“I can hold it off for a long time, especially if the excitement of the kill is high.” He let his gaze drift over her delicious little body. “And dancing with you—let’s just say I wasn’t letting anything stop me from enjoying that.”
She looked worried. “And you’re in pain now?”
“Excruciating.” Agony bloomed behind Liam’s eyes and in every nerve ending, every muscle. His spine felt as if someone had twisted it with a giant pair of pliers. The punishment didn’t even spare his smallest toes.
“Liam, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“A man doesn’t like to admit when he’s hurting. It shames us.”
“Can’t you do anything for it? Would ibuprofen help? I have some in my purse.”
He wanted to laugh. Ibuprofen wouldn’t make a dent. “Nothing to be done but wait it out. Having you sit here with me is nice.”