Tiger popped his eyes open and looked back to see Connor grab the window ledge as Carly stepped on the gas and rounded the corner.

Connor was a cub by Shifter standards, and Tiger’s first priority in his world, after loving and taking care of Carly and Seth, was to protect cubs.

Tiger rapidly weighed the pros and cons of turning around to take Connor home versus looking after him. He couldn’t take Connor into danger.

But then the screaming in his head escalated, begging wordlessly for him to hurry. Tiger chose.

“Stay close to me,” he told Connor. “No fighting.”

Carly slammed on the brakes for a red light. “Exactly. You are going to get me into so much trouble, Connor. What are you doing hiding in the back of Dylan’s truck?”

“Couldn’t sleep in the house,” Connor said without concern. “Too hot. And Uncle Liam and I had a row.”

A row meant an argument. A word Tiger had learned since he’d come to live with the Morrisseys.

“What about this time?” Carly asked. She sped off when the traffic light glowed green. “No, don’t tell me. You wanted to go to the fight club again.”

“I could kick the ass of any Shifter put in front of me.” Connor’s confidence radiated from him. “Okay, maybe except Spike. Or Ronan. But pretty much everyone else. I don’t understand why I have to wait until my Transition.”

Tiger closed his eyes. The Transition from cubhood to adulthood, which usually happened when a cub was in his twenties, meant restlessness, quick anger, the need to fight, and later, the urgent need to mate. Tiger’s had been unbelievably painful and terrifying, hell to remember.

The stream of numbers in front of his eyeballs that appeared when he closed his eyes was hard to take, and he opened his eyes again.

“You’re a cub,” he said to Connor. “Against the fight club rules. They won’t change them for you.”

“Since when did you follow the rules? Witness—you’re out running around Austin with a delinquent cub in the middle of the night. Where are we going?” Connor sounded interested, not worried.

“That way,” Tiger said, pointing straight ahead of them.

“I’m hoping it isn’t far,” Carly said. “And that Tiger will tell me when we get there.”

“I don’t know how far.” Tiger slid his hand across the seat and rested it on Carly’s thigh. Touching her eased the pain a little.

Another term Tiger had learned since coming to live with the Morrisseys was unconditional love. He hadn’t understood what it meant until he’d met Carly.

“Someone needs me. I think.” He’d felt people calling out to him before, but tonight’s cry for help seemed to blossom from the base of his brain.

Carly flashed him a tight smile. “The joy of being Tiger.”

“Huh,” Connor said. He watched Carly drive for another moment or two, and then settled down into the pickup’s bed and buried himself under a blanket.

“You okay?” Carly asked Tiger in a quiet voice.

Tiger had no idea. In his search-and-rescue missions, supervised by Walker Danielson, the liaison between the Austin Shiftertown and Shifter Bureau, he’d helped find missing hikers in the Sierras, a small craft lost at sea with all the crew aboard, children in and around the Austin area who’d either wandered away from their parents or been taken, and two men wanted for a robbery turned violent.

On those missions, Walker had told Tiger about the missing people, and they’d started the search in their last known location. Tiger had tracked them from there.

This time, Tiger only had a pull, a knowledge that someone out in the world was in great danger.

Carly continued driving south. They crossed Boggy Creek, then the river. Traffic was at a minimum, most bars and restaurants closed this late, the business people who hit their offices on the dot of eight not yet awake.

Roads merged and Carly glanced questioningly at Tiger. He said nothing until they reached what Carly called a mix-master, and he pointed west. “That way.”

Carly swung into the lane under the sign that read “Ben White Blvd.” That road ran west through Austin, and Tiger relaxed. This was right.

Lights of all-night restaurants broke the darkness, and Tiger realized he was hungry. But they couldn’t stop. Not yet.

When Ben White intersected with the freeway, Carly looked at Tiger again, but he gestured her to keep straight on. In the truck bed, hidden by the blankets, Connor settled into slumber—Tiger could sense his deep and even breathing.

“I’m going to need a good story to tell Dylan, you know,” Carly said as she drove through the darkness. “And Liam. But mostly Dylan, for taking his truck.”

Tiger liked Carly’s voice, the soft syllables of her Texas accent rippling pleasant sensations through him. He’d liked her voice from the moment she’d called out to him from the side of the highway where her car had broken down. She’d been wearing a white dress and sunglasses, her hair in what she called a French braid, one hand on her hip, very annoyed at the car that had stalled on her.

He’d liked other things about her too, her tight, curvy body, her hair he wanted to nuzzle, and most especially her eyes. They were green with flecks of gray, and had looked straight into his without fear.

Tiger had been knocked over by her that day and he hadn’t yet recovered.

“We’ll tell Dylan the truth,” Tiger answered her. “Whenever we know it.”

Carly let out an exasperated breath but continued to drive.

They left the lights of Austin behind and moved through developing suburbs toward Dripping Springs and then beyond. At the T junction of the 290 and 281, Tiger felt the pull north, and Carly turned that way, heading toward Johnson City.

They were getting close to the sprawling ranch that housed a secret enclave of Shifters, where Kendrick the white tiger kept his un-Collared Shifters off the human radar. Tiger wondered whether he was feeling one of Kendrick’s Shifters, but at the turnoff, Tiger knew this wasn’t the case. He needed to keep moving west.

Past Johnson City, Carly tried to make conversation. “Did you know there were a lot of vintners out here?” She pointed to a sign under a clump of trees, barely visible in her headlights. “And around Fredericksburg. Kim and I talked about doing a wine tour, but now we have babies, which means we’re busy. Even Yvette likes trying their wines, and you know what a foodie she is.”

Yvette, former Parisian model, owned an art gallery with her husband who’d once been her photographer. Yvette and Armand were Carly’s former employers and now close friends. They loved cooking and inviting people over to enjoy the food. They were Tiger’s friends too, he realized. Humans who accepted him.

He turned the thought over in his mind, the part that wasn’t preoccupied with whoever was calling out to him, finding this fact interesting and pleasant.

He didn’t answer Carly, but she was used to that. She could talk enough for both of them.

They went through Fredericksburg’s dark streets, which had, Carly said, an Old West feel and restored Victorian homes. Connor slept silently in the back, never waking as they sped onward.

When the road dead-ended at the I-10, Tiger waved for Carly to merge onto the westbound lane, Carly’s headlights cutting the darkness. They were the only car on the road at this early hour.

“Do you remember the last time we drove out this way?” Carly asked after a while. “I ended up meeting you in the middle-of-nowhere Mexico. Not going there again, I hope?”

Tiger considered and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well,” Carly continued breezily. “That’s good to know.”

He should apologize, he thought. Tiger had dragged his mate out in the middle of the night to drive across flat, dry, empty land, and he couldn’t tell her why, or where.

Carly had insisted on coming, yes, but Tiger could have stopped her, and he knew it. He could have carried her back into the house or thrust her at Liam and jumped into the truck and sped off.

Then he would have wrecked the truck, because Carly was right. He wasn’t good at driving enclosed vehicles. Motorcycles, yes—Connor and Sean, Liam’s brother, had taught him. Cars and pickups he hadn’t learned the hang of. He could fix any automobile he touched, but driving was different.

The sun rose, revealing, as Carly might say, a whole lotta nothing. Two lanes of freeway, one heading east, one west, were divided by a strip of dust and dried grass. More dried grasses and dust filled the sides of the road as far as Tiger could see. A long way in the distance the bump of a craggy mountain hovered on the horizon.

There was movement in the back. Blankets parted and Connor emerged, his hoodie still firmly fastened over his Collar.

“Where the hell are we?” he mumbled, blinking blearily.

“Somewhere between Fort Stockton and El Paso,” Carly answered. “You want to drive, Connor? I’m getting tired.”

Tiger instantly came alert. “Are you?”

Carly slanted him a glance. “Hmm, let’s see—I woke up at three in the morning and stole a truck, and now I’m in the middle of West Texas watching the sun come up behind me. I’d say I’m a little tired, sweetie.”

She’d said nothing, Tiger understood, because Carly always wanted to appear strong for him. She’d been like that the months she’d been pregnant, even when she’d gone into labor.

Tiger wasn’t exactly sure why Carly wanted to show Tiger her resilience, and it troubled him when he pushed her too hard and didn’t realize it.

“Drive, Connor,” he commanded.

“Sure thing.” Connor now sounded perfectly alert—Shifters could wake up fast. “Rest area ahead,” he said, pointing at a blue sign they zoomed toward.

Carly pulled off the road and into the long drive that wound around picnic tables, vending machines, and a block of bathrooms. A few other cars had parked, their drivers taking breaks. Folks wandered around the parking area, gazing out at the empty land, or they leaned against their vehicle, fingers curled around a cup of coffee.

The human travelers cast curious glances at the three getting out of the truck—Tiger with his bulk followed by a beautiful woman in a baggy T-shirt and shorts, Connor leaping from the bed of the truck with young ease.

Carly mumbled something about the bathroom and hurried up the concrete path. Tiger walked after her, planting himself just outside the bathroom door. He’d learned enough about the human world not to charge in after her, but if Carly called for help, he’d be right there.

Female travelers eyed Tiger nervously as they slid around him to get to the bathroom, but he couldn’t make himself move. Carly came out again in a short time, not surprised to find him two feet from the door. She only smiled at him, took his hand, and walked with him back to the truck.

Connor was already in the driver’s seat. He had the radio on, and was singing to a lively tune.

Carly climbed in between Connor and Tiger, and they rolled out again. Tiger liked his mate beside him, where she brushed against him whenever she moved. She could rest her head on his shoulder and sleep if she wanted to.

At the moment, she was singing with Connor, the two of them harmonizing on a country song. Tiger could dissect the music and talk about it, but he couldn’t catch the rhythm and find the joy of it like Carly. She bounced on the seat as she danced to the quick beat, banging warmly into Tiger.

When the song finished, Carly laughed, and she and Connor high-fived. Carly then snuggled back into Tiger and let out a tired sigh.

The comfort of her leaked through Tiger’s distress. Her hair smelled of jasmine, her skin of soap and sleep. Tiger closed his arms around her, resting his forehead on her sleek hair. She smelled of Tiger as well, the scent mark he’d breathed on her the first day they’d met.

Carly, humming along with the next song, turned to press a kiss to Tiger’s cheek, her lips petal soft.

“Thought so.” Connor’s voice cut through the quiet peace Tiger had finally managed to find.

Connor was studying the rearview mirror, darting glances ahead to adjust the wheel before returning his stare to the mirror.

Carly’s T-shirt rustled as she pushed herself upright. “What is it?”

“Someone’s following us.” Connor punched the button to turn off the radio, the sudden silence jarring. “They’ve been with us for a while.”

Carly gave him a skeptical look. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s only one road out here, the one we’re on. Where else are they going to go?”

“They hang back and don’t pass,” Connor said. “They slow down when there’s a chance of catching up.” He checked the mirror. “I saw them behind us before we stopped. And now they’re right back there again. Coincidence?”

“Could be.” Carly made a show of glancing at the open and empty desert. “One rest area in fifty miles, no real towns for the next, oh, hundred or so. So they stopped in the same rest area we did. What are the odds?”

“Don’t make fun,” Connor said without offense. “I didn’t see them in the rest area, so they were staying out of sight on purpose.”

“All right, you might have a point.” Carly turned to glance out the back window. “You think it’s Liam, making sure you both are okay? Or Shifter Bureau coming after you for breaking curfew?”

Tiger unrolled the passenger window and moved the mirror on his side to see behind them. The cool of the morning flowed into the cab, as well as the noise of air rushing past at eighty miles an hour.

Tiger focused on the black vehicle about a mile behind them, his instincts and the numbers in his brain calculating who they could be and why they were following. He drew and dismissed several conclusions in rapid succession.

“It’s not Liam,” Tiger said firmly. “Not Dylan either. And not Shifter Bureau.”

“Who then?” Connor asked in bewilderment.

“Not sure.” Tiger frowned. It should bother him that he didn’t know, but the anguish pounding at him kept him from focusing.

Connor huffed. “I don’t like that. If Tiger doesn’t know what’s going on, then we’re screwed.”

“Not necessarily,” Carly said quickly. “It might be someone helpful.”

She always tried to look at the bright side, his mate. Although, Tiger conceded, she was happy to take action when she was wrong. Carly was a fighter, even if she used the weapons of smiles and quiet fierceness to make her point.

“With two runaway Shifters who are heading out of their state?” Connor asked. “One without a Collar? Breaking all kinds of rules? Nope, we’re screwed.”

Carly twisted to look behind them again, her hair brushing Tiger’s cheek. “Try and lose them,” she told Connor.

“There is nowhere to lose them,” Tiger pointed out.

“Oh yeah?” Connor said, a grin spreading across his face. “We’ll see about that.”

He stomped on the accelerator and the truck leapt forward, dust on the road swirling to lift high in their wake.