Page 37 of Colton’s Mate

I probably won’t even remember your name in the morning.

As if he would have ever forgotten it, even if he’d just met her. Now all he had to look forward to was the part where she left him devastated in the dust.

He could see Tex’s sweats on the floor where Callie had tossed them last night. He might as well put them on and call Remy for a ride home.

As he got out of bed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror on the wall, and stopped dead.

Across his belly, from hipbone to hipbone, one word was written in bold black letters: C A L L I E.

He rubbed at one of the letters. It didn’t even smudge.

She’d used a permanent marker, so he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

That place in the middle of his chest felt like the sun had just come out again.

Smiling, he put on Tex’s sweats, found a travel mug in the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Callie had left.

Then he picked up her contractor bids off the dining-room table, and dialed his brother.

Chapter 15

Remy drove up about fifteen minutes later. He hadn’t said much on the phone, just agreed to come pick Colt up.

But something was off. Colt could hear it in his voice.

Beyond that, he could feel it. Even though Remy was all the way across town. It was the way it had always been with them, being able to feel each other’s emotions. Except now it was even more intense, since they’d been turning into each other’s animals.

As if blending the animal spirits somehow blended their spirits too, enhancing their twin bond.

Sometimes Colt wondered if they even had two separate spirits, or just one split between the two of them.

He guessed they’d find out sometime. Like, after their spectacular demise at age a hundred and twelve, if they ended up in the spirit world mushed into one ghost.

That would probably suck.

The truck pulled up and Colt tried Callie’s door one last time to make sure it was locked, before he walked out and got inside. He was carrying his coffee mug, as well as a plastic bag with all the dead surveillance mini-cams and Callie’s contractor bids.

“Bro. Where are your clothes?” Remy asked.

Colt glanced down at himself. He was barefoot, still dressed in Callie’s brother’s sweats. “Shredded, mostly,” he said. “My leopard got riled up in the fight and I kind of accidentally Changed outside the bar.”

“Fuck,” Remy muttered.

“At least it wasn’t inside the bar. Nobody saw but Callie.”

Remy shook his head. “You know what Brandon’s gonna say if we can’t control our Changes in public. We won’t be allowed to go out in public.”

“Relax. I got a handle on it.” He didn’t want to tell Remy about how his animals and his human form had kept mixing up, and how long it had taken to get himself back.

He’d probably have to at some point, because Remy was right, he sucked at keeping secrets. But now wasn’t the time.

Remy snorted. “Yeah. You got a handle on it. Is that why you left your empty boots sitting in the parking lot outside the bar like you’d been fucking Raptured?” He backed out of the driveway and headed out.

Colt glanced over at him. “You found them? What did Brandon say about that?”

“He doesn’t know, idiot.”

Colt leaned in and bumped Remy’s shoulder with his own. “Thanks, bro. What about you? Did the fight set anything off?”