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Chapter 11

Bailey hoped Kass wouldn’t forget about their Friday appointment—either of them. As much as he enjoyed experimenting with sex through the bond, running was more essential. A year, or even a few months, was a long time to be hiding under the blankets, shifting out of need not pleasure. He’d never given the logistics of shifting much thought before this. He should’ve given it more consideration before pleading guilty, but he hadn’t expected the sentence to be so harsh.

His cell mate fell asleep and Bailey waited, wide awake and tense, for some kind of signal, a readiness. He’d become so used to the connection, he didn’t think he could be alone again—which was terrible. It was like he needed Kass to live and breathe, and at that moment he truly did.

Something sparked within him, and he focused on the feeling. While it was Friday, he wasn’t sure if it was shifting Friday or sex Friday and he really didn’t want to mess that up by being in the wrong body. So, he waited to see where Kass’s mood took him. It didn’t take long to figure out it was running Friday; no lust, only the feeling of freedom.

Bailey glanced at his snoring cell mate, then slipped out of his pajamas and hid under the blankets. He shifted with a shudder. Fingernails became claws. His joints cracked. His skin prickled as hair burst through. Then it was over, and the world became a different place. Smells and sounds intensified. He flexed his claws, pressing them into the mattress, but stopped short of ripping out a chunk.

He sank into himself and the bond. Deeper than he usually went. He didn’t know if it was safe, or smart, but he wanted to experience the world while Kass ran for him, that’s what he needed to do. After a few breaths, Kass’s thumping heartbeat became his and cool air swept over his skin. Then he was there, tasting the air, whiskers twitching. It wasn’t his feet on the pavement, but he didn’t care, he was out.

* * *

Runningat eleven at night was dumb, even though the base was big and mostly quiet, but Kass had made a promise and he wouldn’t break it. Bailey needed this, and so he kept jogging, after a few minutes he became aware that Bailey was close. Then in his next breath the night came alive, the colors sharpened, and he saw almost as well as if it were daylight. He ran faster, reveling in the wind in his face, and running became more than a chore he needed to complete to keep his fitness up.

He completed the loop out of breath and covered in sweat, but with a big grin. A purr reverberated through his chest. He inhaled, smelling the night in a way he never had before. He sensed humans, a stray cat, and possums all doing their thing. But it wasn’t his sense, it was Bailey’s. He was experiencing the world as Bailey saw it, smelled it, and tasted it. The raw hunger to roam wasn’t his either. Bailey had used him and the run to be free, and it had worked better than Kass had imagined.

A lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t imagine how much it grated on Bailey to be trapped. The snow leopard sighed and slipped away. Kass’s vision dulled until the night was nothing but black and shadows. He couldn’t hear the rat up the tree anymore. The world had become a flat photo even though he stood in it. He wanted the brilliance and layers. But Bailey was gone.

Kass drew in a breath and sighed. He needed to stretch, shower and go to bed. But he was wired. The bond was more than he’d ever envisioned. How much closer could they get when they inhabited the others skin? Next Friday was too far away.

* * *

Bailey was wokenwith a pillow to the face. He shoved it off and stared at his cell mate. “What was that for?”

“You snore.”

“So do you.” Except Bailey hadn’t snored. He’d been purring, and he’d fallen asleep as a cat, meaning he was still naked under the blankets. That was dangerous, as he didn’t want his cell mate getting ideas. He couldn’t fall asleep like that again, but nothing could take the shine off last night. He’d been outside, running for the first time in months. It had been so real, like he’d actually been there with Kass. Maybe he had been. He didn’t understand how much was possible with the bond.

“Yeah, but you snore weird. You are weird.” He picked his pillow up off the floor, and when he turned his back, Bailey shimmied into his pajama pants.

“And?” He did his best not to draw attention to himself, he didn’t want people to pay him any attention and for the most part they didn’t. He was forgettable. More so now with his hair short and dark.

“I don’t know. Just try not to be weird out there. Hanging out with Eli makes you look weird like him.”

He was more like Eli than anyone else in here. Bailey shrugged. “He’s interesting.”

His cell mate stared at him. “He’s done a stint in max for murder.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, fed the body to feral pigs I heard.”

Bailey’s eyes widened. “Pigs eat people?”

His cell mate nodded. “Don’t hang out with Eli, people talk.”

“About me or him?”

“About everything. By the time you get out, you’ll be the one with all the gossip.” He grinned. “Seven months to go.”

Bailey stared at the ceiling, knowing another ten months of this would kill him. He’d already started hoping the Coven would come through with a reduced sentence, and in here hope was dangerous because it could be taken away. It was better to accept. But it was so fucking hard.

Four days later he was taken in cuffs to face another judge. This judge was a shifter from the smell. Bailey wasn’t sure what kind, but he worked some magic and just like that his sentence was reduced to six months, with two already served.

His parole conditions were tightened, but he didn’t care. Four more months he could manage. He wanted to hug his lawyer and the judge, but his hands were locked together, and he didn’t think that was the done thing. So, he settled for smiling and thanking whatever god favored him, while fearing that his luck wouldn’t hold.

He couldn’t wait to tell Kass. Not that he knew when Kass was coming back to see him. Once again, they were dependent on the bond. He hoped his joy radiated down through the bond, and Kass got curious. Hopefully he’d call, but it would be carefully worded and recorded. Or Bailey could write something simple to keep Kass in the loop.

He wanted more than the tiny parcels of communication he was allowed. He was sure that if the prison guards knew about the bond, they’d ban that too. For the moment he had Friday to look forward to. And he wouldn’t be shifting this week.