Daybreak by Ellen Connor

believe.”
    “Action and mayhem have that effect on growing boys.”
    “I don’t know if I’m growing,” Adrian muttered. “But I hope so.”
    “You will.”
    But the kid was right. He was small for his age. Pretty too, which was why he’d ended up in the O’Malley shipment. If he’d reached that camp Penelope had been going on about, they would have castrated him to keep him soft. That should outrage Tru—and it did —but he was a realist. There was no saving this world. One could only find a quiet corner of hell and make the best of it.
    You’re alive because a mean son of a bitch made an exception for you, a little voice reminded him. You owe it to Mason to pay it forward. Tru heaved a sigh and agreed with his inner critic.
    Fine. Even after the thing with Penelope went pear-shaped, which it would, he’d look after Adrian. Shouldn’t take more than a year to sort him out.
    Assuming Tru could teach as well as Mason. Why do I have the feeling my life just got impossible?
    Shoving down his foreboding, he finished packing up after they’d all eaten. “Well, the camp is north. Duh. So I guess we start walking.”
    She cocked her head. “We should be wary of O’Malley convoys. They’re not my biggest fans.” Something in her impish expression told him she’d done some impressively awful shit to earn that reputation.
    Tru wanted to hear the story. Therefore, he resisted the impulse to ask and get to know her better. Which was, ironically, what they were supposed to be doing. Damn, complicated—
    “I don’t want to put you at risk.” Adrian shot Pen a soulful look.
    I can’t take this bullshit.
    But a deal was a deal. Tru wasn’t such a reprehensible human that his word meant nothing. That was why he seldom gave it. And she was right. Under no circumstances could he leave Adrian to her care. They’d die.
    He scrubbed a palm across his face, shouldered his pack, grabbed a rifle, and headed out. “Stay close,” he muttered. “I want you both tight on me, so if we run into ferals, I can drop them before they’re on us.”
    “We,” she corrected quietly. “ We can drop them. We’re in this together.” Her wicked smile sparkled, kindling in him a reluctant, responsive joy. “Truman.”
    Fuck. Why did she remember his full name? Why? He felt like he was fourteen and in the principal’s office again. By her smug look, she knew. Her gaze spoke volumes. If he pushed her buttons, she’d push his back.
    Yeah, he got it.
    As he turned north, Tru suppressed a smile.

SEVEN
     
    The heat was a monster in her lungs. But Pen pushed on. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d done otherwise. They stuck to the roads as much as possible, although they weren’t the roads she remembered from childhood. Those smooth expanses of blacktop had long ago deteriorated into pitted ruts and ankle-high foliage. The worst had been a few years back, before the weeds grew in so thick that they softened the way.
    Tru tripped on a knotted vine and cursed. She hadn’t expected such clumsiness from him, but it wasn’t the first time his body seemed to rebel against his mind.
    Maybe because it wasn’t the right body.
    “How long has it been since you’ve been human?”
    “Don’t remember,” he said. “A couple months, maybe.”
    Pen frowned. “And you just . . . live as a lion?”
    “Mostly.” He angled her a smirking smile, then dipped it toward her breasts. “I shift for various reasons.”
    “Other lions not doing it for you?”
    “Wouldn’t know. I haven’t found any.” With another curse, he kicked at the heavy piece of asphalt that had grabbed his toe. He shifted his pack higher on his shoulder. “Just walk.”
    “Quite the seduction you’ve got going on. I don’t know how I’ll stand the anticipation.”
    He glared as Pen moved on to Adrian, hoping he might be better company. But Tru cocked his head and grabbed her arm. At first, she couldn’t hear it. And then the sound rumbled in distant