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Her eyes widened. “He stole things.” Her gaze darted behind him. “Come in and I’ll tell you more.”

On the street behind him he was aware of a car parking. He remembered the warning that snow leopards didn’t like witches, and he didn’t want to end up in a pet food processing plant as kitty kibble.

“I don’t think so.” He removed his foot. She didn’t close the door. That was definitely his cue to go.

Kass jogged down the path to his car. Parked behind his car was a white sedan with two men watching him a little too intently. Kass noted the number plate and strode toward his car like he was unbothered, even though the hair along his arms prickled to attention.

“Can I help you?” one of the men called. His arm rested on the door, gold watch glinting in the sun.

“I don’t think so.” He squinted, trying to spot their animal aura. But saw nothing.

“You’re looking for Bailey. We’ve been waiting for you. Why don’t you get in?” The glint of metal from the other side of the car was all the warning Kass got. But it was enough. The bullet skewed around him, then he sent it through the back window of their car as a warning.

Glass shattered, but Kass was already jogging over to his car. He got in, adrenaline coursing through him and his heart racing.

He drove, making random turns, not wanting the men to follow him back to the base or make any other trouble. They weren’t shifters, but they knew more than most humans, which was dangerous. He pretended he didn’t notice they were there, but his palms sweated on the steering wheel.

They stayed three cars behind no matter what he did. And while they may not know his name, they knew what he was, and they knew he was connected to Bailey. Both of which were bad.

He pulled onto the freeway and monitored the car tailing him, then noticed another pull alongside, boxing him in. His stomach rolled, and the fear settled into his bones. He needed to think smart to get out of this because the men were actively hunting him.

He eased off the accelerator and the other car pulled in front. Kass changed lanes, making room for himself between startled drivers who no doubt wondered why their car was misbehaving.

A car was just another object in motion. It was a dangerous idea. Using magic in public was always risky, but it could work.

He darted into another lane, but the two cars followed. The second car pulled in front and braked. Kass gave it a nudge forward with magic so he didn’t hit it, then gave it a little more to send it in to the concrete barrier. The car hit with a sickening crunch.

He’d used a little too much force. Guilt bubbled up. He didn’t want them dead, just stopped.

Then he was speeding past the wreck.

The car behind him didn’t take the hint. It snuck in behind and started tailgating, making it harder to lose him. They approached an off-ramp; Kass took it. He wanted this over. He wasn’t a mouse to be toyed with before being eaten. The other car followed, but they made a mess of the exit and flipped.

Or at least that’s what the authorities would think.

Half an hour later, when he was sure he had no tail, he made his way back to base. Now he’d call his parents and let them know he was in trouble. He didn’t know how they’d take the mate situation, or that his mate was a snow leopard with criminal connections.

* * *

Bailey hadn’t shiftedin six weeks, and he was more than a little twitchy. He’d snarled at someone that morning and they’d backed away like he was about to rip their head off—him, with his bleached blond hair, and pasty skin and scrawny build.

His skin prickled like his fur was about to push through, and he kept getting blotchy for no good reason, though to be honest his stress levels had been high since being sentenced to twelve months. It should’ve been less, but somehow, he’d gotten screwed over. Probably because he refused to name everyone involved. His nail beds ached, and he stalked the prison in a mood. He would never last another eleven months. He wouldn’t even last another month. One day he’d snap and shift in the middle of the mess and everyone would learn that shapeshifters were real, and he’d fuck things up for shifters everywhere.

In the lunch line he bounced on his toes, unable to keep still. His body vibrated with unspent tension. People kept their distance. When the new guy dropped his shit that meant trouble. Two weeks in he’d seen one guy have a break down and he was only doing a three-month stretch. Bailey vowed that wouldn’t be him. He’d suck this up and when he got out, he was leaving the State, starting over and never looking back.

And Kass?

The witch was never far from his mind. Sometimes it was almost like he was right next to him, but Bailey couldn’t face him. Not now. The shame kept him from reaching out even though Kass hadn’t stopped trying. He didn’t deserve that. Kass should be with someone better.

He collected his food and found a seat by himself, not wanting to talk to anyone. He was sinking into a funk, but he didn’t know what to do. Well, he did, but it involved shifting and going for a long run and a play somewhere wild. And that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Running laps of the yard no longer helped. If he were placing bets, he’d give himself three days. He needed to find a solution, fast.

A chunky guy sat next to him, too close. Bailey gave him a glare and a low growl formed that he had to choke down. He inched away, not wanting trouble or whatever the man was about to suggest.

The man sniffed. His nose was short and looked like it had been flattened by one too many fists. “Relax, I don’t want anything more than a talk.”

“I’ve heard that before.” He didn’t trust anyone who wanted to be his friend. Minimum security didn’t mean people weren’t violent assholes.

“You’ll be having a serious issue very soon. Maybe not today, but definitely before the week is out.” He shoveled food into his mouth and kept his eyes forward like they weren’t talking at all.