A quick glance revealed that the window opened onto the roof of the milking parlor, which ran parallel to the barn. I opened the catch, pushed the long, thin glass outward, and inched through.
Night had fallen while I’d been performing amazing feats of gymnastic excellence. The moon hovered at the edge of the world, spreading a haze of silvery light over the deserted farm. I hurried across the flat roof, thinking I could drop down, shut and lock the barn door, trapping the beast inside, then get in my car and drive away.
However, that left Jimmy with a shape-shifting… whatever locked in his barn instead of me. I had no way of reaching him, of warning him. He’d return to pick me up for our meeting with Springboard and the next thing I knew… cat food.
Maybe I’d just wait in my car until he got back. I could stop myself from running him over.
Really.
Content with the plan, at least for now, I hurried along the bank of windows. Glancing in, I could see nothing but the navy blue sky reflecting off the glass.
A sudden crash and then a thump, followed by ferocious snarling, made me jump. The animal had broken through the door. From the sounds behind me, it was kicking the crap out of the tack room. Now was my chance.
After peeking over the edge to make sure there weren’t more beasts waiting for me, I hung from the roof for an instant, then fell lightly to the earth. I came around the corner and stopped. My car was gone.
“Dammit, Jimmy,” I muttered. Now what?
First things first, I needed to shut the barn door with the cougar inside. I’d taken one step in that direction when the sound of a vehicle turning into the drive made me freeze.
Headlights washed over me. Something crashed inside the barn, closer now than it had been before. I gauged the distance between myself and the door. Too far.
Instead, 1 ran toward the approaching vehicle. Whoever it was, I had to warn them. Just as soon as I jumped into their back seat.
The car—a huge, black Hummer—jerked to a halt, and Jimmy hopped out of the driver’s side even as a tall, lanky black man unfolded himself from the passenger seat.
It was on the tip of my tongue to make a comment about the phallic nature of his ride, but before I could, Jimmy’s gaze went beyond me and he cursed.
I spun, ringers groping for the knife in my pack. Should have had it out already. Stupid, stupid me.
The cat, a cougar all right, was framed in the barn doorway, the lights of the Hummer splashing over it like sunshine. 1 found the knife, pulled the weapon out, then stood gaping.
The animal had to be six foot three from heel to head, easy enough to determine since it stood on its hind legs. I’d never seen one do that, not that I saw a whole lot of cougars.
Something bothered me about its eyes. It took me a minute to figure out what. The headlights were so bright they made the cat’s tawny fur sparkle, but not the eyes. Those were dull, as if the animal were already dead.
The cougar began to move forward on two feet, like a human. The stuttering walk broke my inertia, and I stepped toward it.
“No, Lizzy,” Jimmy snapped.
Either my movement, or his words, keyed the cougar, which swung its gaze in my direction, hit the ground on all fours and headed straight for me.
I considered running for the barn, seeing if I could catch the edge of the roof and pull myself up. But I’d never make it. Even if I did, I had a bad feeling the cougar would make it too. Instead I stood frozen, knife out, hoping for another miracle.
Everything slowed. In the foreground I saw the cat speeding toward me. Behind it, Jimmy reached into the truck even as Springboard drew a gun.
Along with the slow-mo, I heard an announcer’s voice.
Springboard shoots.
A puff of dirt sprang upward near the animal’s feet, followed by the report of a gunshot so loud I jerked. The cat kept coming.
He misses.
Crap.
Gets his own rebound, folks, and shoots again.
This time the cougar jerked, its front legs folding even as its back legs kept churning against the ground. The momentum flipped the animal end over end, and it landed just inches from my feet.
The shot goes in from downtown.
“Three points,” I murmured.
“Were those silver bullets?” Jimmy asked.
“What you think, man? I don’t carry nothin’ but the best.”
I frowned at the dead cat. If it had been shot with a silver bullet, why wasn’t it ashes?
Maybe it wasn’t a shape-shifter.
Bending, I brushed my fingertips over the sheen of fur. A sudden wind fluttered what was left of my hair.
Chindi, Ruthie whispered.
For just an instant, I kept my hand on the cougar, and the wind continued to blow. I closed my eyes and let Ruthie swirl around me. She’d only been gone a week, and I missed her so badly my stomach hurt every time I thought about her.
“Lizzy?” 1 opened my eyes. Jimmy and Springboard stood a few feet away.
“Chindi,” I said.
“Shit!” Jimmy cursed. “You shouldn’t have shot it.”