Skinwalker

No! she demanded. Frustrated, I drew in air, faint hiss.

 

Dog looked up, sniffed. Put nose down, scenting. Hackles rose. Dog followed Beast scent-trail to pool, to splashes. Man-scent-perfume on dog, stank on wind. Dog raced to chair. Saw me in bushes. Started barking. Danger! Danger! Predator hereherehere! Danger!

 

“Sparky! Stop that!” deep-voice-man—mayor—shouted from door.

 

“What is it, honey?” Anna-human said.

 

Come out! Trespasser! Killkillkill! dog barked.

 

I gathered self for killing attack. Hissed, soft, full of threat. Eyes on dog.

 

No! She rose up, forced me down.

 

“Your stupid dog is barking,” deep-voice said. “If he wakes the damn neighbors—”

 

“It’s probably another possum. Come on, Sparky.” Anna-human walked out into night, little shoes tapping.

 

I turned hungry eyes to her. Not a possum. I am Beast!

 

No! She held control tight. Forced down killing instinct. We fought. I showed killing fangs, white in man-light. Hissed. Little yappy dog yelped, ran to Anna-human. She picked up snack-dog and tap-tapped back inside. From safety, she said, “Look at all the water. I bet Sparky heard the neighbor’s teenage kid out here again.”

 

“Damn stupid dog. All we need is a drowning lawsuit,” deep-voice grumbled. “I’ll call the Demarcos in the morning.”

 

Door closed. Outside lights went off. Pool lights still glowed. Killkillkillkillkill! Stupid dog barked inside, thinks it could kill Big Cat. I shook free of Jane’s control. Not possum! Not human child! I am Beast! Need to scream it to the winds!

 

Not now, she thought. Woods nearby. Hunt. Image of fat rabbit. Blood, fresh meat. Killing claws sinking deep.

 

Yessssss. I turned tightly, slunk out of backyard, along property line, into trees. Strong rabbit smell. Nose to ground, filled entire head with rabbit-scent. And stalked.

 

I ate rabbit—blood and flesh and milk from her teats filling mouth. Then tracked back to rabbit nest, under fallen tree. Dug out young ones, screams and cries bringing pleasure with feast. Jane slunk back, away from blood feast. She was not hunter. Was not mother to kits. Was only human. Kit-less. She was only thief.

 

Satisfied, I allowed her to surface. She was silent. Unhappy. Pictured den. Katie’s freebie house. She thought, Let’s go home. I wanted long hunt. Smelled deer. Found tracks, small, dainty, smelled of doe. She commanded, Home. I growled. Turned toward city, grudging, not happy. She thought, Maybe we’ll find a deer on the way.

 

I huffed with satisfaction. Deer!

 

Dawn was lightening the sky when I came to myself on the garden rocks, steaming in the cool air. We had found no deer and Beast had been obstinate, not wanting to let go, wanting to hunt, wanting blood and meat, wanting to remain in cat form after dawn. Beast had never been so difficult to restrain and now she sulked, her anger tainting my mood. Her claws opened and pressed into my mind, deliberately hurting. She had wanted to eat the dog.

 

Bird ate cat, Beast muttered, sulking, still mad because I had shifted into a bird, and the bird got to eat whatever she wanted.

 

“I’ll let you hunt,” I murmured. “Soon. I promise.”

 

Bird ate cat, Beast repeated. Saw in Jane’s mind. She slunk away.

 

I half crawled into the house, limbs so tired they quivered with exertion. I fixed a bowl of oatmeal and ate without tea. Clambered into bed, exhausted.

 

I woke slowly, the sun setting, sending slanted rays across the room, through cracks in the blinds. The mattress was soft under me, firm deeper down, a far better quality mattress than the one in my apartment near Asheville. Not something I could afford getting used to. I had money, but it was invested, not for creature comforts.

 

I rolled over, resettled, and pulled a pillow under my neck, letting my mind wander. Rick LaFleur called the mayor at home at night, probably with Anna’s intervention. Anna who was sleeping with the mayor, Rick, and the liver-eater in an unknown form, unless the mayor was the liver-eater—but his smell wasn’t right, so I didn’t think he was the creature.

 

Rick was investigating the vamps, but what else was he doing? Not acting as the mayor’s eyes, clearly; the mayor didn’t know what Rick was up to. Maybe cop’s eyes. Or he was after my bounty. Or investigating the vamps for an unknown third party. I’d have to keep him close.

 

Beast sent an image to me, blurred by sleep. Rick, on his back, her paws on his chest, claws nicking the flesh at his throat. I chuckled softly, happy just to have her talking to me. She sent me an image of a deer, and slid back into dreams. I rolled out of bed.

 

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