Chapter 1

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Mila took deep breaths to calm her pounding heart, anxiety eating her alive. She'd picked a table that backed up against a wall so no one could sneak up on her. The table sat on the café's patio on the far edge nearest the alley, perfect placement for a quick getaway.

Still, she felt exposed. Every set of eyes that lifted higher than their teacup or plate seemed to bore into her, questioning her, doubting her. Every Bluetooth headset made her wonder who listened on the other end of the line. And if that someone would shoot on sight.

Conversation washed over her, but she froze at the word "shifter" drifting on the wind.

A haughty feminine voice sneered and Mila caught the woman lifting a cup to her lips, so full of her own superiority. "They should all be shot."

Mila flinched, her hackles rising even more at the open hostility.

"Now, now, dear. There are no shifters near." He tried soothing her, but it was a futile task.

Mila held in her smirk.

"None near? Are you kidding?" She almost stood in her outrage, but her companion touched her hand, patting it until she settled. "A shifter could be sitting at this very cafe and we wouldn't have a clue!"

"Come now, Beatrix, the government screening is too good for that. Why, the news shows agents rounding more up every day. I saw with my own eyes one of them getting tossed into a van."

Beatrix grumbled into her cup, but her voice still carried to Mila. "The government couldn't round up their own asses."

Mila almost lost it, not sure if amusement or nerves played a bigger part in that moment. As the couple calmed, she blotted out their words. But nothing could erase the presence of two grotesque bigots sitting not three feet from her. It set her on edge, ready to run, ready to fight. She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to beat the woman upside the head until she really had a reason to fear.

So when her friend, May, approached the cafe even more nervous than Mila, she raised an eyebrow.

Mila had spent her adult life on the wrong side of the law. She had good cause to be cautious. What did her law-abiding, goodie-two-shoes best friend have to fear?

Mila put on an awkward smile and called out, "Hey, May!"

Just like old times.

May's head jerked up after having scanned the tables and the street, not only looking for her, but also for a tail. Mila recognized it from experience. After all, she'd perfected the technique over the last ten years they'd been apart.

She wanted to apologize for leaving, for not explaining at least. Instead, when her life had fallen to pieces, when she had to leave, she left a vague note to her twin in all but blood and walked out. She'd never expected to hear from her again.

Yes, Mila wanted to apologize, but how did one say, "I'm sorry for leaving, but I suddenly turned into a tiger, and I didn't know how to deal with that?" She almost laughed at the idea, what with the bigot at the next table.

Minutes passed with Mila lost in thought, something she knew far better than social situations anymore. May still stood behind the chair across from her, staring at Mila as if seeing a ghost.

She is, stupid.

Shaking her head at her own idiocy, Mila patted the glass surface next to her cup. "Come on, May. Sit." Though, honestly, her friend needed a bit more than a coffee and conversation right about now. Tequila shots might be in order.

May stood there, the rift between them heavy in the air. "Where have you been?"

Random abandoned buildings?

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