When meat was gone, crone reached into bloody hole. Cut more. More again. Still holding knife. Girl stopped screaming, stopped moving, yet her heart still beat. For a little time. Crone ate more. Kidney. Part of lung. Girl stopped breathing. Heart fell still. Crone reached into body cavity and pulled, tugged. Heart came free. Crone began to chant, eating heart.
I watched as energies gathered on crone, silver gray, full of sparkles. Power touched her. Fire that did not burn. Bones slid, twisted, flesh growing lighter. Hair growing pale, blond. She stole young girl. Took her form. Bad smell in air. Much later, understood it was scent of evil, I thought.
Anger erupted in my spirit, anger at evil I did not understand. I leaped, silent. Driving down liver-eater. Paws on back, killing teeth at neck. Biting. Breaking spine with snap of jaws. Flesh was rancid, oily, foul. Burning tongue. I spat. Turned body with swipe of paw. Ripped out throat. Spat foulness. Tore off head. Liver-eater was dead. I turned, padded into night.
Images faded. Memory was ended. Jane was silent. I placed paw on her head in joined mind. You are liver-eater, I thought, snarling. You ate me as crone ate girl.
No! She struggled. I shoved hard with paws, holding her down, claws in her spirit flesh.
I was stronger than blond vampire girl. Stronger than you. I did not die. I came into you. With you. Now we are both, I and Jane. Better than Jane alone. Better than me alone. We are strong. We are Beast. And now we are Big Cat. Very big.
She stopped struggling, fear shaking her spirit, thinking fast human-thoughts. You took mass from the minerals in the boulders. Her fear grew, skittering like squirrel claws. You performed the mass to mass, stone to stone, of complex magic. How did you do that? How much mass did you take?
I said, Found place in snake for bigger. Gene for much bigness. I took all mass I wanted. Jane fled, deep into joined spirits, hiding. I hissed, shook the last scummy water away. Pelt is thick and rich and deep. Claws are sharp and long. Hunt liver-eater. Kill another one. I padded into deeper shadows, mouth open, scent-searching for path of liver-eater. I am Big Cat. I will kill.
CHAPTER 23
Mass to mass, stone to stone
Moon was high when I padded into park land far behind Cherokee shaman’s house. Liver-eater’s scent was strong and hot, from upwind. It was running, sweat stinking with rot. Second scent floated on night wind—blood, fresh, potent with fear. Human. Liver-eater had hunted. Found man to drink and eat.
Deep in woods, on high ground surrounded by swamp, I found kill site. Paused. Studied clearing. Tent, latrine, shovel, lantern burning, guttering, latched cooler, string in trees, damp clothes hanging limp. Blood everywhere, slick, shiny in moonlight. Body parts, scattered. A homeless camp, she thought. A drifter.
I crouched, silent, sniffing, watching. Liver-eater was gone. With slow hunter steps I walked into camp—hunched low, back paws into space when front paws rose, no sticks or leaves to crackle. Sniffed chewed leg. Old and scrawny. Sick human. Not good eating. I moved through camp, scenting. Liver-eater was rank, rotten when he came. Scent changed as he ate.
Jane shuddered at thought. I hacked laughter. Padded around tent. Man-torso chewed in half at spine. Upper half near swamp. Lower half in water, pelvis jutting into air. Small fish fed at torn flesh. Gator swam close, eyes above water, tail moving like snake. I hacked warning. Feed later. My place. Gator slowed, stopped, sank. I jogged to tent opening.
Man-head inside tent, resting on cot. Liver-eater didn’t eat face of this one. Hairy, scruffy. Pale blue eyes caught lantern light. Cheeks drooped, wrinkled.
I found path liver-eater took from woods. His scent changed again. I stopped. Pulled air over scent organ in mouth. Studying. Rot smell changing. Gone. Not liver-eater scent. Vampire scent. Vampire over all other scents. Scent change worried Jane.
Path reached blacktopped road. Truck headlights moved through trees, coming this way. I leaped into tree, crouched on wide limbs hanging over road. Dropped on pickup bed cover, denting weak metal. Liver-eater came this way, in vampire body. Moving fast. Air blasted hard, full of smells. Rich, strong scents.
He stole a car, she thought. Or left a car here, planning ahead. She urged, Look at signs. Truck turned onto Lafitte-Larose Parkway. Still south. Signs proclaimed BARATARIA. Barataria, she thought. That’s where property is being purchased by Arceneau Developments and by Anna, according to Rick’s paper-trail search. But why?