"I looked at you through the door," Javic said. "It's not as easy as it sounds. You're lucky I didn't decide you were here to kill me and fireball it off its hinges."
Max, who had been thinking about kicking it in, was glad she hadn't gotten around to trying that. "Where's Gio? I thought I heard noises from next door."
"Yeah, that was us, all right," Javic said. He let her in and ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was still half asleep. "I woke up, and—well." He pointed.
With the room's lights off, it seemed very dim to Max after the sunshine outside. All she could see was a large dark mass on the floor, but it really didn't seem like something that belonged in a motel room. Shouldn't there be a bed there? Then all of a sudden she realized what she was looking at.
One of the twin beds had the covers mussed and twisted, the pillow dented; that was probably Javic's. The bed next to it was completely covered with a sleeping stone lion.
"Is that a knife?" Javic asked.
"I'm a woman of action," Max said absently. "I have knives."
She locked the door, laid the knife on a windowsill to reduce the risk of stabbing anyone who didn't need to be stabbed, and went to have a closer look at Gio.
The bed had collapsed under him, which was probably the thud she'd heard. She must have been sleeping deeply if she barely remembered it.
"Gio?" she called softly.
"Aren't you supposed to let sleeping cats lie?" Javic asked.
Max turned on a lamp so she could see. "That's dogs."
"I would think it applies even more to cats."
"He's not going to hurt me," Max retorted. She had a hard time explaining even to herself why she was so sure of that, but it was a bone-deep confidence that went down to her core.
Because he is our mate.The whisper came from her nearly silent jaguar.
If he evenisour mate, she retorted.He certainly doesn't think seem to think so.
Javic shook his head. "If you're that confident, I'm taking a shower."
"We brought you a T-shirt," Max said, pointing.
Javic opened the bag. His obvious surprise turned to a look of shocked horror.
"Really?"
"It's not like there's a men's clothing store out here." She smiled at him brightly. "I don't think any of mine would fit you."
"No ... probably not." He shook his head and took the bag into the bathroom with him.
Left alone with Gio, Max turned her attention back to him. The great lion continued to sleep. Mustering her nerve, Max laid a cautious hand on his shoulder.
The smooth surface was slightly warm to the touch, as if it had been left in the sun. At first she might have been touching a real statue. Then she felt the stone flex under her hand, moving a little as Gio twitched in his sleep, and wonder raced through her.
He was just so beautiful and fascinating. Max had grown up in a family of shifters, surrounded by big cats, and in her line of work had met shifters from all over the world, everything from meerkats to minotaurs. It took a lot to really impress her.
But in her experience, and she had a lot of experience, Gio's stone lion was completely unique.
Max glanced toward the door of the bathroom as the sound of the shower started up. Then Gio stirred a little, and she gazed, transfixed, as the stone rippled like the skin of a real lion.
She hadn't had an opportunity to admire Gio up close in his lion form yet. He had shifted in front of her several times, but he had been either stonewalking or in the middle of a battle. Now, she cautiously ran a hand down his shoulder, feeling the solidity of the rock that could still move with the feline grace she had watched him use during the fight.
There was a massive solidity to Gio in his shifted form. He was almost blocky, not in a way that was coarse or awkward, but enough to make it clear that he was a statue and not a regular lion that had somehow been turned to stone.
His mane was finely carved, but itwascarved, delicate flourishes of a sculptor's chisel rather than the individual hairs of a true feline's coat. Because he was a carven animal, instead of the details of a living creature, he had a certain larger-than-life quality. His paws were slightly exaggerated, making them seem more than a real lion's paws—squarer, bigger, more solid somehow, as if to ground him more readily on the earth that was his element. His head was elegant, with a sphinxian serenity. One of his massive front paws was folded under him as he slept, a strange and vulnerable detail.
