Skinwalker

“The term ‘vamp’ is insulting,” Leo said.

 

“Get used to it.” And why pick that one tiny part out of what I had been saying? I was tearing up his entire power structure and he gets his panties in a wad over the word “vamp”? I handed the papers to Troll. “I have work to do. Later, Troll.”

 

He nodded, a single shuddering move.

 

I was halfway out the door when Leo said, “My time with Ipsita is not by command.” I halted with my hands on either side of the doorjamb, and I didn’t turn around. “I have paid her usual commission, plus a tip, in advance, according to my standing arrangement with Katie. I require an escort to a social function tonight.”

 

I nodded when he finished speaking, trying to decide how to reply. I settled on, “I appreciate you telling me.” Then I pushed off with my toes and headed toward the back door.

 

“You are dismissed.” The words floated after me.

 

The Lord of the Manor just had to add that last bit in, didn’t he. But I could have sworn that he was laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

 

All that I wanted

 

 

I checked in with Molly, got her voice mail, and left a message. Bored, I checked my e-mail and spent some time on the Internet searching local society/gossip pages and a few online sites dedicated to local and state politics. I discovered that Anna was scheduled to attend an event in the French Quarter’s four-star Marriott tonight. I pulled up maps, did a little math on distances, made notes, and hoped Beast could follow Anna home, or wherever she spent the night.

 

I took a nap until midnight, woke, and stripped down. Time to shift and go after the woman sleeping with Rick and the liver-eater in one of his shapes. The woman who was also involved with whatever was taking place in Leo’s club. I wondered if Leo knew about that. I could have asked him—or maybe told him—about the meeting, but that info, on top of insulting him, might have been stupid. Even for me.

 

In the backyard, I dropped four steaks onto the ground and climbed, naked, to the top of the stones. The panther fetish necklace in hand, I checked that the small line of gold I had scored into the rock was still there. The rains had washed much of it away, and I again rubbed the gold nugget over the boulder’s stone face.

 

Big? Beast asked, hungry for size.

 

“Not yet,” I said. “But soon.” Beast said nothing to the refusal, and I sat, lotus position, the travel pack and necklace loose on my neck. I relaxed, settled onto the cool stone, and quickly sank into Beast’s snake. The shift was easy tonight, dropping down, into the quiet rhythm of drums. The notes of flutes. A pulling of muscles and bones, a sharp gray tingling, as if I stuck my fingers into a light socket, and faint nausea after. Almost painless.

 

I stretched and huffed at ugly man-smells: breath of cars, stink of garbage, mold on walls of man-dens, paint, plastic, upholstery, scent of dog urine. Yappy mutts, fast snack. Padded down stones, bypassed sharp broken stone from when she became Jane after bird. Smell of dead cattle made belly rumble. Huffed, pulling blood and fat scent into mouth. Cold meat, but hunger demanded. Steak was fast bites, swallowing down chunks. Beneath was larger piece of meat, thick. Paw on top to tear and rend. Better when hot and fresh. Needed fresh kill.

 

Soft thump sounded. Whirled. Cat on fence, hunched. I hissed. Fangs bright in night. My territory. Cat yowled. Fell off other side. I huffed with laughter. Stupid cat. Jane ate cat when bird. Not very tasty, but fresh. I wanted to hunt deer. Kill and eat.

 

Hunt for Anna.

 

She wanted to hunt female who had sex with man. I ignored command and finished last of dead meat. Licked paws, groomed face. Drank from fountain of stone vampire.

 

Hunt! Her command, urgent.

 

I jumped fence and padded around den, slinking through shadow. Down street, along walls, beneath ledges. Good place to hunt, sit on ledge, watch for prey. I jumped from man-path to chair, to upper ledge. Metal all around, to keep clumsy humans from falling. Made it hard to drop on prey. Stupid humans.

 

Hunt!

 

Faith Hunter's books