The pickup rattled and protested as Connor pushed the speedometer to ninety, the old truck not built to take the momentum.

The engine hummed along fine—Shifters kept their vehicles in top condition. The chassis, however, rattled and groaned, threatening to shatter at any moment. Carly worried less about being stranded in the middle of West Texas with no water than she did about explaining to Dylan that they’d destroyed his pickup.

Tiger leaned against the corner of the seat, eyes closed as though trusting Connor to take them to safety. Carly wished she could be so unruffled.

She peered anxiously behind them and breathed a little easier when she saw that the black SUV had dropped back.

Connor kept up the speed, overtaking an eighteen-wheeler, waving cheerfully at the driver as they went by. The driver sounded his horn back in playful response. Must be nice to be so chipper in the morning.

While they were now well ahead of the pursuing vehicle, Carly didn’t relax completely. There were few turnoffs here, and those they passed, like the road to Marfa, were narrow and not well trafficked. Anyone chasing them for a nefarious purpose had a better chance of cornering them on a smaller road and stranding them, or worse.

Their best option was to go into El Paso, where they could lose a pursuit on busy streets or by hiding out in a packed parking lot. They’d have the opportunity to change vehicles if necessary too, though Carly cringed as she imagined explaining that to Dylan.

They could always mail him his keys with a note, she supposed. And then change their names and flee the country.

Connor continued down the freeway, the speedometer steady at ninety. Carly’s new worry was that there’d be a cop lurking at the side of the road waiting to bust them. There were no handy trees for a patrol car to hide behind, but the dry land had dips and depressions, and a local officer would know the best ones to use as blinds.

“You can probably back off a little, Connor,” she said nervously. “If you’re pulled over and they find out you two are Shifters …”

“There aren’t any police.” Tiger’s words vibrated through her. “Not for a long way.”

Connor glanced at Tiger but said nothing. Carly didn’t question him. Even after a year of living with Tiger she wasn’t sure how he knew the things he knew. But he did, and he was never wrong.

The mountains on the horizon drew nearer and resolved into tall, dry peaks that, according to the map on Carly’s phone, marched down to the canyons around the Rio Grande. The freeway rolled on to the farthest western tip of Texas, the border with Mexico now only a few miles to the south.

As the day grew bright and hot, the traffic picked up, and a city glittered ahead of them. Connor had to slow at last, and they followed a stream of cars into the spread of El Paso.

The I-10 went through the outskirts of the city and into downtown, the sprawl of Juarez paralleling them across the river. Carly expected Tiger to sit up and point the way, or at least open his eyes, but he continued to lounge against the door, as quiet as he’d been on the open road.

“Tiger?” Carly’s alarm grew when she saw that his eyes were half open, his golden irises glassy. “Tiger!”

Tiger did a slow blink, as though bringing himself back from whatever distant place he’d been. His face softened. “Carly.”

“You all right?” Carly twined one hand through his and rubbed the backs of his fingers. “Are we going the right way?”

Tiger stared out the window. “Yes,” he said after a moment.

Connor clutched the wheel, concentrating on the road and the stream of cars, SUVs, trucks, and motorcycles surrounding them. “We need gas.”

“There’s a place.” Carly pointed to an exit whose ramp ran up onto a hill.

Connor swiftly navigated to the exit and followed a line of cars to the intersection above, pulling into the gas station and parking in front of a pump. He started to get out, but Carly tugged him back.

“Let me,” she said. “You guys keep a low profile.”

As low a profile as two hard-bodied men, one burying himself in a hoodie and one with black-and-orange striped hair, could keep.

Carly had to climb over Tiger, pressing her hand to his chest to keep him from getting out with her. She paused as she slid across his lap, lowering her head to kiss him.

Tiger’s eyes flickered, the pain she saw inside them easing a bit. Carly touched his face.

“We’ll find whoever you’re looking for,” she whispered. “Promise.”

Tiger slid one strong hand behind her neck and pulled her to him for a deeper kiss.

Tiger’s heart was rocketing, thudding hard behind his T-shirt, his skin roasting. Even so, Tiger’s kiss opened Carly’s mouth and let her taste him, the joy of being with him embracing her. They’d made love last night before they’d fallen asleep, and the heat of that filled Carly once more.

Connor cleared his throat. “Any day,” he said, his voice cracking with worry. “Can you two do your spooning once we’re on the road again?”

Tiger gently lifted Carly from him, opened the door, and set her down on her feet outside. He sent her a regretful look as Carly steadied herself on the pavement, the smell of hot asphalt and warm gas fumes filling the air.

It was September, but they were now officially in the Southwest, where triple-digit temperatures lingered until late autumn. The lot’s heat came through the soles of Carly’s sandals, making her toes curl.

Carly took out her credit card to slide into the pump’s reader, and then reconsidered. If Tiger had been reported at large, Shifter Bureau might try to trace him through her purchases. They’d guess or learn Carly was with him.

She tucked the card away and hurried into the convenience store, where she paid cash for the gas, giving the clerk a warm smile.

Her wallet was depressingly empty. They’d have to get more money soon, from somewhere. No telling how long this road trip would be. But pursuers could trace her through ATM withdrawals as well. Cutting-edge technology had put the world into a goldfish bowl.

Carly purchased some water and low-cost snacks, and trotted with everything back to the car. She thrust the bag of goodies through the open window at Tiger then wrestled the nozzle from the pump and into the pickup’s tank.

A man on the other side of the pump glanced over, then looked indignant when he saw Carly filling the tank while two men lazed on their asses in the truck. Carly gave the man a bright smile.

“I insist,” she said.

The man gave her a little nod in return, the Whatever loud and clear. He finished, started his car, and drove away.

As Carly watched the numbers on the pump move with agonizing slowness, Connor popped open the front door and slid out of the cab.

“Where are you going?” Carly demanded.

“I have to pee.” Connor zipped the hoodie more securely over his Collar, thrust his hands into his pockets, and slunk into the convenience store.

Carly had used the bathroom at the rest area, but that had been an hour or so ago, and agitation wasn’t helping. The restroom sounded like a good idea. She hung up the nozzle, closed the gas tank, and walked around the truck to Tiger. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said.

He opened his eyes, his protective look returning. Carly put her hand on his arm.

“Seriously don’t,” she said quickly. “I’m just going to the bathroom, and Connor’s in there. We’re all safer if you don’t draw attention.”

Carly saw Tiger acknowledge this, but he didn’t like it. She patted the back of his hand. “Next time you flee town, steal a big RV with a working bathroom.”

Tiger nodded in all seriousness. “I will.”

Carly raced into the store, feeling Tiger watch her all the way. She smiled at the clerk again and ducked into the back, following the “Restrooms” sign. She heard water running in the men’s room and hoped Connor would get back out to the truck soon to keep an eye on Tiger.

She dashed into the empty women’s room and a mostly clean stall with some relief. A few minutes later, she was at the sink, scrubbing her hands and splashing water on her face.

The blotchy mirror showed that she looked awful. Hanks of honey brown hair framed her face, her Scrunchie hanging on by one strand. Her cheeks were pale, shadows like bruises beneath her eyes.

Carly pulled off the Scrunchie, patted water onto her hair, and tried to tame it into a neater ponytail. She grabbed paper towels, dried her hands and face, and sprinted out, doing a two-point slam-dunk of the paper towels into the trash can.

She reached the front door of the convenience store in time to hear Connor shout. Her heart dropped when she saw a black SUV with dark windows gleaming in the bright sunlight pull in behind the pickup and four men in black fatigues leap out.

Connor had apparently lingered in the store to buy another handful of candy bars. Now he halted outside the door, his mouth open from his cry of warning.

Tiger was in the pickup’s driver’s seat. He had the engine started, and as Carly watched, the small truck leapt forward, tires squealing, and bolted out of the lot.