“Bailey!” She called after him but didn’t follow.

On the front step, he drew in a breath made of knives. He was supposed to do as he was told. They’d warned him about stepping out of line and keeping money for himself. But he hadn’t given them the satisfaction of making him cry out or beg them to stop. He’d said nothing.

And he’d found a heat and a strength that he couldn’t explain. It had filled him and given him a place to hide. Now when he reached along the bond to Kass, it was different—and not in the fading away kind of way.

Had Kass helped him?

Witches didn’t do that; they drained shifters and broke them. Or at least that’s what he’d been told. Gran feared witches more than the men and the government. How much of what he’d been told was truth and how much was lies to keep them in line and dependent on protection?

As he walked to school, he toyed with the connection, testing the strength and wondering about the changes. His heartbeat quickened, and he felt Kass’s lips on his. He wasn’t sure if it was a memory, or just his fantasy becoming more real.

He waited for the lights to change and closed his eyes. In those few breaths he felt dust on his skin and tasted the different air. Where was Kass? Bailey was sure he wasn’t in Australia.

He really needed to talk with Kass and ask him what was going on. But he wasn’t sure that was a good idea. What if it was a trap to draw him in so the army could lock him up and study him?

He laughed…now he sounded like Gran.

Besides, he wanted to do more than talk with Kass. With each passing day, he regretted running instead of staying. He wanted more than thoughts and memories and his goddamn hand.

At school it was easy enough to disappear. To be one in a crowd so no one saw him—snow leopard magic that came in handy when he had his fingers in a pocket. He helped himself to some cash from one the of the teacher’s wallets, not for lunch, but so he could buy a copy of his birth certificate. He needed that before he could open a bank account according to the bank’s website, and he didn’t want Gran to think he was anything other than beaten and obedient. But no one was ever taking his money again.

After school he took a bus to the registry office and sat with a lady who explained he could’ve done this online. He told her he didn’t have a computer at home or a credit card.

She gave him one of those looks where she wasn’t sure if he was lying or if she should pity him. The best way out of that was to stare at the table and hunch his shoulders. He wasn’t lying, and he didn’t want her pity.

Her expression changed when she couldn’t find him in the system.

Bailey frowned. “What do you mean? I was born here. My mum was born here.”

“Let’s look her up.”

“Katherine Fisher. She died when I was young. I…I don’t know her birthday.” Or her death day. He should know both. He’d asked to see her grave once, but she didn’t have one according to Gran. Even in death, the government wasn’t allowed to know where she was.

The woman shook her head. “What about your father?”

Bailey shook his head. Worry knotted his gut. “Why aren’t I here?”

“There could be lots of reasons. Do you know the hospital where you were born?” She smiled like it wasn’t a big deal. But his whole life depended on proving he existed.

“I was born at home.” Or at least that’s what he’d been told. The life he knew was coming undone stitch by stitch. Every question cut a few more threads.

“Do you have any other relatives?”

“My grandmother.” She wouldn’t be there. She’d come to Australia as a child, brought by the men who wanted a new life. They’d saved her life, and now she owed them forever.

Gran didn’t exist either—but that was no surprise.

Bailey’s leg bounced, and he stared at the cream melamine desk. “My birth wasn’t registered, was it?”

“It happens.”

“What do I do now?” If he didn’t exist, then he was trapped.

“Can your grandmother come down?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here.” And if she found out, there’d be more than a warning. He’d probably lose a finger, maybe not the whole thing, but at least the tip. “Forget about it. I shouldn’t have bothered.” He stood too fast and gasped as pain shot through his chest. Something was broken. He should see a doctor, but the only ones he knew were the ones that Gran saw, and they worked for the men. He didn’t want to owe them anything.

“Wait, we can get you a birth certificate. It’s just more complicated.”