Read Online Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set by Colleen Gleason - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colleen Gleason
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suspicion. It sure looked real to Bree, no different than the ones around Sean’s or Dylan’s necks ... and even Tiger’s.
Bree went cold as she realized the implications of what Tiger had said—his Collar wasn’t real. That meant there was nothing to stop him from becoming that huge Bengal again and tearing into everyone, including Dylan.
Come to think of it, when Tiger had jumped on Seamus to bring him down, his Collar hadn’t sparked. The Collars were supposed to, whenever a Shifter started to seriously fight. It would jerk pain through the Shifter’s entire nervous system, shutting him down.
Bree and her groupie friends knew good and well that the Shifters had adapted to that pain—had to or it would have killed them long ago. They could fight each other at the illegal and secret fight clubs, ignoring the Collars the best they could to battle it out within the rings.
The fight clubs had
some
rules—no killing was the biggest one. Second biggest, fights were for exhibition only. Their outcomes did not change a Shifter’s place in the dominance hierarchy. Bree had attended a few fight clubs in New Orleans but had not yet been to the one in South Texas. She wasn’t even sure where it was held, but she knew it existed. Word got around.
Seamus slowly reached for the chain. He flinched when he closed his fingers around it, though the Collar did nothing. He stared at it for a long time, a swallow moving the throat the Collar would bind.
“I can’t,” he said in a near whisper. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“It won’t do anything but rest on your neck,” Dylan assured him. “You’re going to have to trust me, son. If they see you without a Collar, they’ll arrest you on the spot. Or maybe they’ll just shoot you.”
Seamus couldn’t take his eyes off the Collar. He wasn’t stupid—Bree could see he fully understood that the human police would go ballistic the minute they saw Seamus with a bare neck. But the idea of wearing it was making him a little crazy. He’d never worn one, had somehow escaped the captivity that all Shifters now had to endure.
Sean contrived to look hurt. “I made that Collar meself, lad. Put me heart into it. Looks just like the real thing, doesn’t it? I’m an artist.”
Seamus ignored him. He snapped his gaze to Bree and held the chain out to her. “You do it.”
Bree blinked. “Me? Why?”
Seamus’s gaze softened. “I won’t mind so much if it’s your touch on my skin.”
“Ah,” Sean said quietly. “That’s how it is, is it?”
Bree didn’t answer. She noted Tiger watching them intently without seeming to—Tiger was an enigma.
Seamus had his gaze on Bree again, silent, trusting her. Bree let out a breath and took the Collar from him.
The chain was warm to the touch, where she’d expected it to be cool. The pendant had a Celtic knot in raised design on the front, a flat disk in back. Bree assumed that the pendant held the chips on the real Collars that somehow measured a change in a Shifter when he was about to get violent. Bree had no clear idea how the Collars worked—Shifters willing to discuss them believed in the theory that they had magic inside them as well as electronics.
Bree put her hand on Seamus’s shoulder. His skin rippled under the shirt as he held himself back from shifting. His chest rose with a long, worried breath.
Under Bree’s guiding hand, Seamus sank down to one of the kitchen chairs. The other Shifters and her mother didn’t move, watching with intense scrutiny as Bree touched the chain to Seamus’s neck.
He snapped his eyes closed. Bree caressed his shoulder, trying to soothe him, then she very slowly slid the Collar around his neck.
Seamus froze, the breath he’d been drawing halting in his chest. His body shuddered once, then went rigid.
Bree was about to ask Sean how the Collar clipped together in the back, when the ends joined and fused under her fingers. She blinked at the chain, which was now smooth and
Bree went cold as she realized the implications of what Tiger had said—his Collar wasn’t real. That meant there was nothing to stop him from becoming that huge Bengal again and tearing into everyone, including Dylan.
Come to think of it, when Tiger had jumped on Seamus to bring him down, his Collar hadn’t sparked. The Collars were supposed to, whenever a Shifter started to seriously fight. It would jerk pain through the Shifter’s entire nervous system, shutting him down.
Bree and her groupie friends knew good and well that the Shifters had adapted to that pain—had to or it would have killed them long ago. They could fight each other at the illegal and secret fight clubs, ignoring the Collars the best they could to battle it out within the rings.
The fight clubs had
some
rules—no killing was the biggest one. Second biggest, fights were for exhibition only. Their outcomes did not change a Shifter’s place in the dominance hierarchy. Bree had attended a few fight clubs in New Orleans but had not yet been to the one in South Texas. She wasn’t even sure where it was held, but she knew it existed. Word got around.
Seamus slowly reached for the chain. He flinched when he closed his fingers around it, though the Collar did nothing. He stared at it for a long time, a swallow moving the throat the Collar would bind.
“I can’t,” he said in a near whisper. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“It won’t do anything but rest on your neck,” Dylan assured him. “You’re going to have to trust me, son. If they see you without a Collar, they’ll arrest you on the spot. Or maybe they’ll just shoot you.”
Seamus couldn’t take his eyes off the Collar. He wasn’t stupid—Bree could see he fully understood that the human police would go ballistic the minute they saw Seamus with a bare neck. But the idea of wearing it was making him a little crazy. He’d never worn one, had somehow escaped the captivity that all Shifters now had to endure.
Sean contrived to look hurt. “I made that Collar meself, lad. Put me heart into it. Looks just like the real thing, doesn’t it? I’m an artist.”
Seamus ignored him. He snapped his gaze to Bree and held the chain out to her. “You do it.”
Bree blinked. “Me? Why?”
Seamus’s gaze softened. “I won’t mind so much if it’s your touch on my skin.”
“Ah,” Sean said quietly. “That’s how it is, is it?”
Bree didn’t answer. She noted Tiger watching them intently without seeming to—Tiger was an enigma.
Seamus had his gaze on Bree again, silent, trusting her. Bree let out a breath and took the Collar from him.
The chain was warm to the touch, where she’d expected it to be cool. The pendant had a Celtic knot in raised design on the front, a flat disk in back. Bree assumed that the pendant held the chips on the real Collars that somehow measured a change in a Shifter when he was about to get violent. Bree had no clear idea how the Collars worked—Shifters willing to discuss them believed in the theory that they had magic inside them as well as electronics.
Bree put her hand on Seamus’s shoulder. His skin rippled under the shirt as he held himself back from shifting. His chest rose with a long, worried breath.
Under Bree’s guiding hand, Seamus sank down to one of the kitchen chairs. The other Shifters and her mother didn’t move, watching with intense scrutiny as Bree touched the chain to Seamus’s neck.
He snapped his eyes closed. Bree caressed his shoulder, trying to soothe him, then she very slowly slid the Collar around his neck.
Seamus froze, the breath he’d been drawing halting in his chest. His body shuddered once, then went rigid.
Bree was about to ask Sean how the Collar clipped together in the back, when the ends joined and fused under her fingers. She blinked at the chain, which was now smooth and
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