“Don’t try to change the subject.” Charlie’s mouth twitched. “It wasn’t all sunshine and roses for us either. Her father couldn’t abide me, a ranch hand who was always dirty. He wanted Edna to marry someone rich and powerful, who worked in an office. That was never going to be me. I was drafted into ’Nam, and when I came back—thanking God every day that I’d made it—I grabbed Edna and said we were going to be together. I wasn’t risking losing her. Her parents kicked up a fuss, and we ran off together, joined a commune, and shacked up.” He laughed. “We thought we were rebels. We were just poor as dirt and madly in love. We finally decided we wanted a real house with a bathroom we didn’t share with ten other people, and left. I went back to ranching, and Edna and me married. We still didn’t have much money, but we didn’t care. We were together forty years.”

Addie listened, her eyes moist. “That’s a sweet story.”

“It ain’t sweet, young lady. It was real life.”

“Yeah, but I like your real life.”

Charlie softened. “My point is, me and Edna both wanted the same thing. That’s important. You need to find out what Kendrick wants, what he can give you. If you both need something too different, you should brace yourself for having to say good-bye. Sorry to have to tell you that.”

Addie nodded, not trusting herself to answer. The green fields around Hill Country gave way to hot, dusty flatlands as they went south and west, back into the nothingness from whence they’d come.

Charlie was right, and she knew it. Kendrick’s life was vastly different from Addie’s. He was running from people who wanted to shoot him, hiding out from other Shifters. She understood why he’d needed to hide from humans, who wanted to sequester Shifters for the good of humanity, which Addie had never agreed with. Not that she’d ever given it much thought, she realized uncomfortably.

The three Shifters in the parking lot had seemed like friends to each other, companions. The younger one had stood close to the others, talking and laughing in perfect trust. In that respect, they didn’t seem much different from humans.

But they were different, the news media was always quick to emphasize. Shifters looked human and could take human traits, but they were different, other. And always would be.

Charlie pulled into to his drive past the split-rail fence and headed up for the house. Addie held her breath as she looked about for signs of Kendrick, then released it in relief when she saw the motorcycle still parked behind a clump of mesquite. Kendrick hadn’t gone.

No one was in the house, however. Addie checked all the rooms but found no Kendrick, no Robbie, no Zane and Brett.

She was about to rush back out to voice her worries to Charlie when she spotted them outside the back door, in the shade of a clump of live oak Charlie said he’d planted once upon a time.

A huge white tiger lay stretched out on the ground, his large paws in front of him. As Addie watched, one very tiny white tiger jumped onto the tiger’s back and slid off; another was busily chewing on one of the big tiger’s ears. A wolf pup, tail waving, darted in and out, avoiding the smaller cubs’ claws and teeth, while he teased both them and the large tiger.

Kendrick kept a careful eye on where the cubs were, Addie saw, while he let them tug on his ears, his paws, his tail. He rumbled deep in his chest, and the tiger cubs answered in mewls and yowls. Robbie gave the occasional yip.

“Oh, I wish I had a camera,” Addie said.

Kendrick raised his head. His green eyes focused on her, and the rumble grew to a soft snarl.

The cubs leapt away from Kendrick and swarmed to Addie. They ran around her feet, bodies wriggling in excitement, the tiger cubs trying to climb her blue-jeaned legs.