Jackie’s fervent desire to be alone with her mate after the hearing was frustrated by a request from Brooker to tell him what she could about the auction.

Then she had to talk Trevor into letting her go without him, because he’d promised to defend her and her baby from the Shifter Tribunal. “I love you, but you can’t protect me from the past or my memories. The sooner they know, the sooner they can act.” She gave him a long kiss that left them both panting, then handed him the key to her room. “If you buy enough food for us, we won’t have to leave the motel for days. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with Brooker.”

She’d set the meeting at the sheriff’s station just in case she needed backup. Despite the confidence she’d shown to Trevor, she wasn’t one-hundred-percent convinced the Shifter Tribunal wouldn’t try to steamroll her because she was a human who would soon be raising a leopard shifter daughter.

Deputy Shiloh showed them to an empty office that belonged to the vacationing sheriff and left them alone. She sat in one of the two visitor chairs and put her bottle of water on the big mahogany desk. Brooker sat in the other, then set a small tape recorder on the desk. It had the subtle feel of talisman magic.

Seen up close, Brooker was younger than she’d thought, though it was hard to tell with shifters. He had impressively wide shoulders and was handsome enough to be a movie star.

He waved toward the tape recorder. “This is spelled to transcribe and transmit what we say to the enforcement office in Chicago. But first, I owe you an apology for asking about the father of your child.”

She tilted her head. “You do?”

“We had a case last year. A wizard recruited human women with shifter-mate potential to have sex with shifters, paid a witch to ensure they got pregnant, then blackmailed the fathers. Some of the women knew exactly what they were getting into and went along with it for the money.” His lips curved downward in a thin, tight frown. “I let my suspicion runaway with my good sense. In short, I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven.” Empathy rose in her, and she sighed. “It’s hard, facing up to your own prejudices. I wouldn’t be with Trevor if I hadn’t faced up to mine.” She pointed her chin toward the small, shield-shaped gold pin on his lapel. “Besides, you’re in a lonely business, where you only see people at their worst. I couldn’t do police work if my life depended on it.”

“Thank you.” After a moment, he reached out to turn on the tape recorder, but she stopped him.

“What are you going to do with Roehm and his pride?”

“Arrange to have them ported to holding cells in Chicago.” He smiled reassuringly. “They won’t be anywhere near you for a long time.”

“That’s good to know, but I’d like to ask that you look at the pride members as individuals and see if they can be… rehabilitated, I guess. Find new prides or clans for them.” She pulled the bottle of water off the desk and held it on her stomach. “A few are just as bad as Roehm, but most are Roehm’s victims, not his supporters. The young lynx brothers are orphans who don’t know anything else. The cheetah mourns his dead mate, who he thinks he killed, when it was actually Roehm who did it. I bet the compound still has the tiger guard in the garage, chained with magic so he can’t shift, and starved so he’ll eat anything he can catch.”

She took a deep breath and shook herself, to keep the tears at bay. “Most were hurting, damaged, just trying to get by, looking for the safety of the pride, hoping the leader would help them. Instead, they got a got a greedy sociopath who fed on them, worse than any blood-mad vampire.”

Brooker’s expression went flat, which she suspected meant she’d surprised him. After several long moments, he nodded. “I can’t speak for the Tribunal regarding what will happen to Roehm, but what you’re asking is the right thing to do.” A corner of his mouth twitched with what may have been a smile. “I’ll assign it myself, so I know it’s done right.”

She pointed to the tape recorder. “So, speaking of greedy sociopaths who run auction houses in the basement of a Las Vegas hotel…”

The afternoon sun kissed the western horizon as Jackie walked from the sheriff’s station to the motel. It had taken her a lot longer than she’d expected to tell Brooker her story and answer his questions, and now she was horny and hungry. She could have asked for a ride, but nothing was far in Kotoyeesinay, she needed time to think about what she wanted to say to Trevor. Her fiancé. Her goddess-gifted true mate. The man she loved.

They were both strong, independent personalities, so their marriage would founder if it wasn’t an equal partnership. She’d immediately regretted sending him away after the fight with Roehm, and missed him every moment while he was gone, but she didn’t want him sacrificing his business for her. It would have been a poor start to what she hoped was a long and successful union.

She’d ruthlessly quizzed Shiloh and Matteo about all things shifter. To her vast relief, they told her that once she and Trevor mated, her scent would change, so she’d no longer be a sex magnet to horny shifters. As Matteo described it, the mate bond would be plain as daylight to any shifter, and they’d both smell boringly off-limits. They’d also assured her shifters could easily form a mate bond with a human, especially one like her with her own magic.

With mating in mind, and her body totally on board for the thrill ride, she let herself into the motel room, only to find Trevor not there. No brown and gold big rig in the parking lot, either, or on a nearby street. Princess kicked, just like Jackie wanted to. She rubbed her belly. “You and me both, baby.”

To kill time, she changed into a T-shirt with a picture of the death star over her round belly and stretch maternity pants with a wide, soft waistband, then hung up the outfit she’d worn to the hearing.

During the week, she’d been astonished at how many townspeople had gone out of their way to welcome her, convinced she’d be granted sanctuary. Trevor had left her all the cash he had, but hardly anyone would take her money. The motel room was free because of a called-in favor from Shiloh and Matteo. The diners and restaurants said her meals were on the house. The owner of a clothing store outright gave her some fun maternity clothes, including the business suit she wore for the hearing. Not even Shepherd, Trevor’s seven-foot-tall ogre mechanic friend, would let her pay for the motorcycle repairs.

At first, she’d been perturbed. When she was coming up, she and her mother had sometimes made do with bread soup, but they weren’t charity cases. It had taken her several days to realize that the town’s generosity had no strings—no return obligation, no sneering condescension. It was the kind of community she’d always dreamed of but had never found. She really wanted to stay, but that was on the long list of things to discuss with Trevor. He had a say in that, too.

No sense sitting around, waiting for a man who’d apparently gone all the way to Laramie to shop for food, so she spread out her wardrobe on the bed.

Outside of the business outfit, her clothes were highly inappropriate for a wedding. Cheap maternity pants and tops in dreadful colors, second-hand work shirts, a pair of slip-on canvas shoes, two of Trevor’s T-shirts for sleeping in, and her motorcycle riding gear. If Trevor wouldn’t go for a quick visit to the Justice of the Peace, maybe she could talk him into a sky clad wedding, like her Wiccan friends had in Houston. She’d rather be naked than look like a something the cat dragged in. She folded and rolled up her clothes and returned them to her backpack in the closet. The drawers in the motel room’s dresser smelled like spilled perfume, which her newly sensitive nose couldn’t abide.

She flung herself into the stuffed chair. Her empty stomach suggested pizza. She couldn’t go anywhere, because that would guarantee he’d come back to find her gone and go out looking. She realized it wasn’t fair to have expected him to sit around waiting for her, either.

A sudden swell of doubt washed over her. Was he having second thoughts about marrying a human? Did he hate the idea of living in a house instead of his truck? Did he think she was too emotional or too clingy? Did it bother him that she was nine years younger? She stood up and gave herself a mental shake while arching her back in a stretch. It was likely the pregnancy hormones, magnifying her feelings and warping her rational brain.

Princess elbowed her, reminding her not to mope. She had a feeling her daughter was going to be more interested in martial arts than ballet.

Which meant she needed a job, because martial arts clothes—and shifter obstetricians—weren’t free, and she damn sure wasn’t going to make Trevor pay for everything. Besides, she wasn’t cut out to be idle.

She had debts to pay and food to buy, soon for two. A wedding dress to buy. Now that she had transportation again, she could apply for any position in town, but she needed a job she could do from home for a while. Too bad she didn’t have something like Brooker’s cassette recorder with its magical ability to transmit to Chicago from wherever he was. Maybe she could figure out how to do it with computerized spreadsheets.

Inspired, she called Matteo’s office, and the receptionist put her right through. “Does the Shifter Tribunal need an accountant?”