Trevor Hammond didn’t think of himself as a violent man, but at that moment, with the woman his bear insisted was his true mate leaving him in a dwindling dust cloud, he wanted to go back behind the store and kick more drunk-coyote ass.

He could not have screwed up the first meeting with his mate any more if he’d tried. If he was honest, he had to admit he’d doubted he’d ever find a mate, considering his bear was one of a kind. Aunt Straya, who had raised him, had always told him to trust in the moon goddess, and be ready, but who would ever expect to run into his entirely human mate in an all-night truck stop known for its shifter customers?

He’d tracked a tantalizing smell and almost bowled her over with his carelessness. Then her overwhelmingly nuanced and fascinating scent had lit up every cell in his body. Mate, his bear had growled, then ordered him to lick her and claim her right there in the lunch-meat aisle. His human side pointed out she was likely already mated, since she was pregnant and carrying the daughter of some sort of feline shifter. His bear countered that she didn’t have a mate bond or smell mated, and no shifter would willingly leave his pregnant mate unprotected. And while he was arguing with himself, and hadn’t even gotten out a coherent sentence, the tall, diffident woman had left him.

And to top it off, instead of going after her, he’d retreated to the back alley to get control of himself and come up with an approach that wouldn’t scare the life out of her. Because the second and third things he’d finally noticed were the sour taste of her fear and the submissive body language. Someone had conditioned his proud, strong, stunningly beautiful mate into outward displays of obeisance. He’d paced off his anger in the alley behind the dumpsters while racking his brain for something better to say to her than “Wanna see my truck?”

To his shame, he hadn’t immediately noticed that the problem in the alley involved her. Shifters often went out back to scuffle. Otto, the owner, fined or banned anyone who disturbed the peace inside, and no one wanted to be gored or stomped by an oversized, pissed-off Texas-longhorn bull shifter.

All it took was for a woman’s voice to shout “No” for his bear to take control and shift. Thank the goddess his magic took care of his clothes. His bear had recognized what his human part should have, the presence of his mate. He bounded toward the trouble in time to see her use a magic weapon on the attacker, and another coyote joining the attack.

He roared his rage and brought the fight to them. Two drunks were no match for a mad bear defending his mate. They were lucky he hadn’t maimed or killed them. He’d managed to gain enough control to warn his bear that the deaths would scare his mate even more than she already was. And then he’d had to let her ride off on her motorcycle alone, or he’d be as bad as the mangy coyotes.

The only good things that came out of their first meeting were that he now knew her name, he’d found out she really was unmated despite being pregnant with a shifter baby, and she’d taken his card.

But he could feel in the depths of his soul, through the potential connection already forming between them, she was in deadly trouble and needed his help. Which she wouldn’t take, because she didn’t know or trust him, and she deeply disliked shifters.

He couldn’t say he was fond of them, either, at that moment. Humans with shifter-mate potential were meant to be wooed and cherished, since they helped ensure the longevity and genetic diversity of all shifter species, even whatever kind of bear his was. Jackie was so much more than the door prize for lame-ass wolf wannabes, or the catnip play toy of whatever lowlife feline had gotten her pregnant and abandoned her.

He went back into the truck stop long enough to warn them about the naked numbskulls out back and buy extra food, then he climbed into the cab of his rig and pulled out his Nebraska maps. He’d worked long hours to pay off the bank loan on his truck six months before. And since it also served as his home, he’d been using his more recent profits to trick it out with improvements and creature comforts.

The best investment had been the built-in cellular phone, which paid for itself in making him much faster at responding to hauling opportunities and notifying shippers about delays. Rural coverage was nonexistent, but big cities were putting up cell towers every day. Now he was doubly thankful, because it was his only mundane-world connection to Jackie.

He didn’t know how to use his spotty magic to tell him anything about her, other than it felt like she was headed due east, probably on Interstate 80 toward Nebraska. Now he wished he’d practiced with his magic more diligently, like his aunt had nagged him about, instead of only using it for small tricks to win bar bets.

His half-load was furniture, and wasn’t due for three days, but it was bad for business to drive due east when his destination was supposed to be north. He figured he could be one day late, but then he’d have to give up the load to someone else. There would always be another load, but there might never be another mate.

He drove to the I-80 entrance ramp and headed toward Nebraska. Night fell fast once he got beyond the city lights of Cheyenne, and past the stench of the refineries east of town. He had no idea how humans tolerated it, except that in Wyoming, oil was gold.

Every motorcycle he saw made his bear surge forward, but the rider was never the brown jacket and flaming-skull helmet he was looking for. He wished he’d asked where she was going. Motorcycles traveled faster than his truck but took a lot more active attention. Truckers drove long hours, but bikers fatigued more quickly. He hadn’t missed the faint shadows under her beautiful brown eyes.

He usually listened to music while he drove, but he was too worried about Jackie, and too worried about horrible possibilities. For the first time in his thirty-six years, he had something to lose that meant more to him than anything, and it terrified him. Maybe she and the father of her baby hadn’t parted willingly, and he was searching for her to claim her as his mate. Maybe whatever she was running from was more than one bear could handle. Maybe he’d make a rotten mate because he was so very young compared to other shifters, who lived centuries. Maybe she’d never get over her prejudice against shifters.

The ringing of his cellular phone nearly made him leap out of his seat. He reduced his speed and pulled into the right lane, then answered the call using the hands-free speakers he and an electrician friend had rigged.

“Trevor, what are you doing?”

“Aunt Straya? Are you okay?” She disliked phones in general, and only used them for emergencies.

“That’s what I called to ask you.” Cellular phones were a modern miracle, but they made everyone sound like they were in the bottom of a well. “Auris came pounding on my door, wailing about signs and portents. I thought she’d been sampling the fairy moondew again, but she’s sober as a judge.” No one knew what Auris was running from, and she was more than a bit of a drama queen, but his aunt didn’t discriminate against the lost and unwanted who found their way into her woods.

“What did she say?” asked Trevor.

“That you and your mate need to find sanctuary before the full moon, or your blood will paint the canyons. What’s this about a mate, and why do I have to hear it from Auris?” To his aunt, the news about a mate would be much more important than the threat on his life.

He suppressed a frustrated noise. “It’s complicated.” He told her about the disastrous first meeting and what little he knew.

“You always did pick the hardest path up the mountain.” Trevor rolled his eyes. He preferred peace and quiet, but the fates seemed to have other plans for him. “Best you get yourself and your woman to Kotoyeesinay as soon as you can. Ask for sanctuary the moment you cross the glade’s border. The elves will hear you.”

“I will.”

“Bring her here, afterward. I want to meet the woman who has your measure.”

Trevor gave an audible growl. “I will not. You’ll show her your photo album, and she’ll laugh at me the rest of my life.”

“You need laughter. Drive safe.” As usual, when his aunt was done talking, she simply hung up.

Kotoyeesinay was west, behind him, high in the Rocky Mountains near the Wyoming border with Colorado. He’d been there several times, but not for a few years. He remembered the sharply winding canyon road that seemed to take far longer than it should for the distance shown on the map. Elven glade magic, he guessed.

The call he’d been hoping for came through thirty minutes later, though not the way he expected.

“Is this Mr. Hammond?” an older man’s voice queried.

“Yes.” Dispatchers didn’t usually call at nine-thirty at night.

“The wife and I have a young lady here at the house. She took a bad tumble on her motorbike. Won’t let me call the police or an ambulance, but she said I could call you.”

Trevor dawdled in closing up the back of his trailer, to make sure the old rancher made it safely down the driveway to his front yard. Only the moon lit the landscape, and humans didn’t have good night vision. Trevor pretended he needed the man’s help lifting the bike into the trailer, because while he could have done it easily, it was too heavy for a normal man, even one of Trevor’s human size and build.

He climbed into the cab and shut the door, then slid the saddlebags he’d taken off her bike into the storage area behind her seat. “How are you holding up?”

He’d bundled her into the passenger seat first, as carefully as he could. The whole left side of her was one big bruise, and her knee had swollen to twice its normal size.

He’d parked on the farm road where she’d dumped her bike and gotten pinned under it. She’d been lucky the rancher found her. It was probably bad of Trevor to enjoy carrying her from the rancher’s house to his truck. His anxious, angry bear was easier to soothe when taking in her scent with every breath.

Jackie gave him a crooked smile. “I’ve had better days.”

“I’ll bet.” He wanted to take her to the nearest hospital. His bear wanted to take her to a cave and protect her while she healed. “What do you want to do?”

“Is my motorcycle drivable?”

“I don’t know much about bikes.” Inspired, he added, “But I know someone who does. He lives in a small town called Kotoyeesinay, in south Wyoming.” Trevor was pretty sure Shepherd, some type of ogre mix, and seven feet tall, would still be there. He didn’t fit in with the outside modern world very well.

She shook her head. “That’s the wrong direction. I need to get to Chicago.”

He waited to see if she’d explain, but she didn’t. “By when?”

“Today. Yesterday.” She moved her leg and winced. “Do you know how to get in touch with the Shifter Tribunal?”

That was the last question he’d expected. “No, sorry.” Her trouble must be worse than he’d thought. “I could make some calls. A couple of my customers are big packs and prides—”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “No shifters.”

That stung a little. A lot, actually.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low, breathy tone. “That was incredibly rude.” She looked away, toward the moonlit field of half-grown corn to her right. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I’m lashing out at you because of my shitty choices.” She sniffled and wiped at her face. “I’m the last person to hate someone for the color of their, uh, fur. Had enough of that growing up in Weirtree, where they still resent losing the Civil War and think magic is the devil’s work. It’s just that outside of you, my experiences with actual shifters haven’t been good.”

He desperately wanted to hear her story, comfort her, make things better for her, but they couldn’t stay parked on a deserted farm road in the Nebraska hinterland. “We should get moving, or your rescuer will be back out here with questions.” He started the engine. “I could take you to a motel.”

Her head snapped around to give him a wide-eyed look. He added hastily, “I can sleep here in the truck, but you need a real bed.”

The tension in her expression eased, and she put her hand over her rounded stomach. “And a real bathroom.” She snorted. “I think I’ve used every damn one of them between here and Pagosa Springs.”

“That’s in southern Colorado, isn’t it? Near the mountains?” He inched the truck forward until he was sure the wheels were on the road before accelerating. He didn’t know what else to do but just drive. All the way to Chicago, if that’s what it took.

She was silent for long moments. “If I tell you what’s going on…” She trailed off, then started again. “I just met you, but I already know you’ll want to help, and I want to let you, because you’re the first person who’s made me feel safe in the last six months. Longer than that, actually. Which is crazy, but it’s true.” She blew out a loud breath. “But it’s a fucking mess and could get you hurt or killed.”

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel to help control the part of him that wanted to make a threat display at whoever made her sound so disconsolate. “Tell you what. You tell me the situation, and I promise not to go off half-cocked or get us in worse trouble. Deal?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her cast a couple of sidelong glances at him. “It’s weird that you know what I’m thinking.” She used her hands to lift her sore leg, wincing as she did. “Or maybe not weird. Are you using your magic on me? I felt it, in the alley, but I couldn’t tell what it was doing. I’ve only been around witches and fairies.”

“No,” he said. “Most of my magic is bound up in my shifting. Maybe you felt when I commanded the coyotes to shift to human?” He shrugged one shoulder. “That’s an alpha thing.” He felt guilty for not mentioning the gossamer-thin mate bond between them, which was already giving him hints, but he had the feeling she wasn’t ready for that part. He wasn’t sure he was, either. Not if the woman his bear wanted to claim couldn’t get over her hate for shifters.

“I didn’t know shifters had free magic. I thought it was all for shifting.” Her tone blended curiosity with caution.

“It’s uncommon. Mine isn’t much.” He pointed to a wide shoulder on the road, meant for slow farm vehicles to pull over to let traffic pass. “We could stop there for a bit.”

She nodded, so he slowed the truck to a stop and turned off the engine. If it got too cool for her, he could turn on a heater.

The moonlight lent her beautiful face exotic mystery. Her complex scent filled his senses and sent desire thrumming through his veins and blood toward his dick. He sternly told himself to stand down, or he’d be no better than the drunken coyotes.

“I work… used to work for a Houston accounting firm. One of my coworkers is… was part fairy and thinks all magical people should be friends. She introduced me to a rich real estate developer named Barry Wills. My mom told me about shifters, so I knew they existed, but he was the first one I actually met. He’s a spotted leopard. He liked me right away and let me know it. Romantic gifts, glitzy parties, gala openings. I fell for him hard. He found me so unbelievably sexy, even in a room full of much richer, prettier women.”

Trevor only barely managed to repress a growl from his bear, who didn’t like Jackie thinking of herself as anything less than stop-traffic gorgeous. He also didn’t like the thought that a sneaky leopard had been in her bed, but he couldn’t say he’d been celibate all his life, either.

“Barry said I was his mate, but whenever I wanted him to go with me to visit my mother in east Texas, or I asked about his family or pride, he’d tell me it was worse than a soap opera and change the subject or avoid me for a few days.” She shook her head. “My boss sent me and a couple of coworkers to a CPA conference in Las Vegas in February as a reward for our hard work. Barry came with me because he loves the nightlife.”

She rubbed the top of her thigh a couple of times. “Now we get to the part where I only know some of what happened. The first night, Barry’s condom broke, and I didn’t think anything of it because I was on the pill. I wasn’t going to raise a child alone like my widowed mother had to, and Barry was allergic to any talk about marriage. He said only humans cared about that. The second night, we had a fight, and Barry went partying without me. The third night, he prepared a romantic bubble bath for us in the spa tub with two-hundred-dollar-an-ounce perfume and vintage champagne and told me he was sorry. Afterward, I was sleepy, so he carried me to the bed.” The breath she blew out almost sounded like hissing. She looked away, then met his eyes again. “The next thing I remember, someone was slapping me awake. I was buck naked in an old, tiny windowless room that smelled like stale cigarette smoke.”

He couldn’t help the growl that rumbled in his chest. He clenched his hands together.

She gave him a sour look. “Save your growls, cowboy, ’cause it don’t get any better from here.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “It was an illegal auction house in the basement of an older casino. Seems I have ‘shifter-mate potential,’ which makes shifters of any species drunk with lust and want to have babies with me. Thank heavens it repulses vampires. The auction house put me up for sale within hours because they knew something I didn’t: I was pregnant. The lion shifter who bought me for his pride should have noticed, too, but I still smelled like knock-out drugs and perfume. Roehm—who turned out to be the pride’s leader—spent all his time feeling up the younger girls he bought instead of inspecting the women.”

Trevor cursed. “Where exactly is this casino?”

Her expression turned wary. “What will you do if I tell you?”

Remembering his promise not to go off half-cocked, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry. I’ve heard rumors of an auction, but I didn’t believe it.” He let his determination show on his face. “I do now.”

“I was only there for a day, but I saw males and females of half a dozen species chained on the auction block. Right out of that Roots mini-series. Most of the ‘shifter-mate potential’ group were like me, kidnapped and clueless. Our bidders were shifter outfits. I could smell the odor of corruption, even through the gazillion suppression and concealment spells all over.” She shuddered. “Roehm bought six of us. The auction house shot us with tranq darts, and we woke up in a former motel complex outside Pagosa Springs. It’s in southern Colorado like you thought.”

“Lion pride?” he asked.

“Mixed, and males only. Roehm’s a mean-looking white guy and an African lion. Claims he’s five hundred years old, but he doesn’t know shit about history, so I think he’s much younger. The two lazy-ass litter mates who paid Roehm for me—Ricardo and his brother Ruben—are regular leopards. The pride has three more leopards, a jaguar, a tiger, a cheetah, four lynxes, and eight mountain lions. Something wrong with every damn one of them.”

He tilted his head. “Wrong?”

“Crippled, feral, addicted, weak, fat, you name it. The lynxes are orphaned litter mates, barely out of the den, and don’t know any better. I can’t prove it, but I think Roehm murdered the old pride leader, then drove off or killed anyone he couldn’t dominate. He’s the one-eyed king in the land of the blind.”

“What did they do when they discovered you were pregnant?” He knew he wouldn’t like the answer but needed to hear it.

“Slapped me around like it was my fault. Yelled a lot. Tried to get their money back, but the contract said the ‘livestock’ was sold ‘as is.’” She snorted. “Who’d have thought illegal auction houses selling creatures of myth and magic would use mundane contracts?”

Trevor nodded. “Signed in blood, I’ll bet. Makes it easier to exact magical penalties.”

“That makes sense. The staff were all wizards and sorcerers. Anyway, Ricardo and Ruben couldn’t stand to be around me because I smelled like vomit from non-stop morning sickness, and because I carried another leopard’s child. Ricardo boasted about being civilized because they planned to sell the baby to the auction house. Before Roehm took over, the former leader made the pride abandon any non-pride cubs in the high mountains.”

Trevor passed beyond shock and into dangerously angry territory. Shifter offspring were not accidents or commodities. His bear roared in his head. Someday, he promised himself, there would be a reckoning. He took two deep, long breaths and blew them out slowly to rein in his temper. “Go on.”

“Since I had to live in their pigsty of a mobile home, I spent the first two weeks cleaning it, because the stench made my morning sickness even worse. My mother cleans people’s houses for a living, and I used to help her.” She jutted out her chin in an unspoken challenge, as if daring him to judge her.

He’d had a similar chip on his shoulder growing up. “My aunt takes in laundry and sells put-up vegetables from her garden that the county food inspectors didn’t know about.” He crooked a corner of his mouth. “When I was a wild and restless teenager, looking for trouble, she had me shift and use my big claws to rototill her garden and chase off the nocturnal pest animals at night.”

She looked startled, then returned his smile. “Smart woman.” She shook her head. “Roehm sends the pride out to sell illegal drugs and guns, and steal cars, but Ricardo is obese and lazy, and Ruben is skinny and lazy. I gave them the idea to sell my cleaning services to the other pride members.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’d think shifters couldn’t stand eye-watering smells from filth. And don’t get me started on their personal hygiene. Anywhere outside is their cat box.”

It took him a minute to realize why she’d volunteered to be the maid. “You became invisible. No one notices the help.”

She waved her hand. “I didn’t think of that at first. I just wanted information, like where the hell the compound was, and how soon could I escape.” She shivered. “Luckily, I’ve always been an over-planner, or I’d have been eaten by the near-feral tiger guard that Roehm keeps chained at night or burned to ash by the magical wards they paid a wizard to install on their perimeter, or beaten to death for trying to steal one of the pride’s cars.” She shuddered. “Or dead from a failed forced change like poor Dale.”

Trevor was so wrapped up in Jackie’s story that he almost missed the far-off glint of headlights at the intersection about a mile in front of them. He used his alpha magic to borrow night vision from his bear. He pointed out the windshield. “Pickup truck with two men in it. Two shotguns in the rack behind their heads.”

“Maybe we should find that motel you mentioned.” She made a wry face. “Or at least a public bathroom.”

He started the engine and turned on the headlights. “There’s a file box under your seat. The map of Nebraska is on top. Use the flashlight and see where you want to go. I mark motels with a letter ‘M’ if they’re decent.”

He pulled onto the road just as the pickup truck passed them, taking care to keep his face and hands in shadow. Jackie’s story had him wanting to avoid creating the memorable sight of a black man and woman in a big-rig truck in the middle of Nebraska farm country at night. “I’ll turn south at the intersection. We’re about eight miles from the interstate.”

“Do you mind if I use magic on your map to find someplace safe?”

He didn’t blame her for the caution in her voice. Magic could be a touchy subject, even among people who knew it was real. “Sure, if it’s not destructive. Good maps are hard to replace.”

The power overspill caressed him like an ocean wave, hardening him to an erection and making his body sing. He wished he had something to put over his lap. Not even diving naked into an icy pond would help at this point.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her spread out the map. She waved her hand, and points on the map appeared like tiny sparkles.

He slowed for the intersection, glancing at the map. “What’s that bright blue spot?”

She lifted the map and pointed the flashlight at it. “Ko- something or another, in Wyoming.” She frowned. “What was the name of the town your mechanic friend lives in?”

“Kotoyeesinay.” He should tell her about the call from his aunt.

“That’s the place.” She made a frustrated sound. “Damnit. As of this moment, that’s the only safe place to be in the four-state span of this map.” She dropped it to her lap. “But I’ll be backtracking instead of adding distance between me and the pride’s hunters and enforcers. Regardless, we can’t make it there tonight.”

The exhaustion in her voice concerned him. “How about the closest safe motel, for now? You can do the map spell again after you’ve had a few hours’ rest.”

He kept his eyes forward, toward the intersection, but everything else in him focused on her. She had to be close to her breaking point and could still kick his shifter ass out of her life. He didn’t know what he would do if she did.

“Okay. Turn right. The Lark Sleepytime Inn is about six miles south on the left.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding and turned right.