Skinwalker

Liver-eater raised head. Bloody mouth open. He roared.

 

Big cats collided. Bodies slammed. Rolled into wall. Glass breaking, falling. Energies of liver-eater’s shift flowed over my pelt. My claws sank deep in liver-eater flesh. Teeth latched on, killing teeth at liver-eater’s shoulder. Sinking deep. Foul taste, foul smell. Rotten/dead/bad. Remembered taste. Rolled, snarling. Clawed for purchase, to hold, to tear, to rend. I ripped muscle from enemy shoulder. Tore into wound again, again. Blood, hot, rank, splattered. Liver-eater arm went limp. Claws raked my side. Blood poured out. Strange energies poured over my wounds, energies of liver-eater, seeking change.

 

It’s trying to take on mass, she thought, panicked.

 

I understood. Liver-eater needed stone, but there was no stone. Desperate, liver-eater’s energies flowed over my pelt. Trying to steal Beast-mass, Beast-body. I bit deep in neck. Fighting. Never give in to skinwalker again. Never! I drew up dark energies, Jane’s energies. Fought back with skinwalker magics, using her power, using gray place she went to, to shift. Surprised, she saw what I did, helped, fighting. We screamed challenge.

 

Liver-eater rotated hips. Slammed me down to floor, hard. Belly up like prey. I lost grip on its pelt. Its fangs latched near jaw. Vital blood spurted. I screamed prey sound. Fear and anger. Fangs twice bigger tore into flesh. But liver-eater mouth was wrong, still part human.

 

Can’t bite properly, she thought. And there’s no stone to steal mass from. He can’t complete the change. She chuckled, full of malice. We are strong. And smart.

 

I faked weakness, going limp, withdrawing fangs. Screamed as if deadly wounded. Liver-eater snarled in victory and loosed hold. I raised hind claws and curled back. Reached. Dug into liver-eater’s unprotected belly. Latched on to neck with killing teeth. Just as Jane did when she was little cat.

 

Liver-eater squeal was death scream. Deadly wounded. Liver-eater slashed fast, across face, single swipe, claws digging in, scoring deep. Toward my eye.

 

I rolled, curling, throwing body. Flesh tore along cheek. Liver-eater claws caught travel pack at neck, snagging leather. I bit liver-eater bare foot-paw, sank teeth deep. Skinwalker energies flowed. Buzz of pain stabbed deep into tongue. Liver-eater paw . . . vanished . . . into gray place. And back. Liver-eater vaulted up, breaking window. Out. Into night. Trailing gray light and blackness. I gathered tight to leap. To follow.

 

“Help. I need help.” Gasping voice.

 

Glimpse of Rick, shaking head, rolling to side. Bleeding. Half lying on floor, half propped on overturned chair. Hand on neck, at ear. Metal of phone between fingers. Blood pouring across bare, wounded chest. Spreading fast. Dark red flood. No pulsing. Rick stared, eyes glassy with shock, wide with terror. Face white, bloodless. Spoke into phone, words slurred, voice low. “I’m at one-oh-two Walker Street in Barataria, just past A Dufrene Street.”

 

I showed teeth, growled. Rick’s eyes focused. Breath caught. He looked to side. Metal grip of gun lay under edge of rug. I shoved off with hind foot, spun in midair. Jumped over him, raced out door, from lighted house into dark. Smell of liver-eater rot was strong here. A car’s heart started. I leaped long, from porch onto white car’s hood. Growled at windshield. Liver-eater sat in driver’s seat. Naked, in human form. Met eyes. Liver-eater face went bloodless. For long moment, world stopped. Jane surged to surface, seeing, thinking, Cherokee. One of The People.

 

His eyes on travel pack. His mouth moved, sound almost lost beneath soft roar of car. He knew me/us for skinwalker. “Ani gilogi,” liver-eater said. Panther clan. Gray light sparkled over liver-eater. Face shifted into . . . something else. Blond-brown hair, narrow nose. Very young white man. She saw. She knew. Liver-eater spun wheel, hit gas. Car pivoted, bucked. I wrenched control from her, screamed with rage. My claws dug in, sliding, raked paint across hood. Slung off. Into air. Landed hard. Rolled. Snarled. Car sped off, spewing shells, pattered over pelt.

 

Shift. Now. Please, she asked.

 

Liver-eater runs. I snarled. Want to follow, to hunt. But car was fast. Gone. Away from territory. I huffed, satisfied. Victor. Padded beneath flowering bush full of blooms, long arms reaching from high, trailing over ground. I slunk into dark. Sat, panting. Thought of Jane. She reached into head, into thoughts. She took control. Remembered her snake, its twisted shape.

 

But Beast was big, had taken mass from rock. Jane needed to send mass back; thought of boulder in garden. Thought of gold scraped onto surface, renewed after rains. Thought of gold necklace tight on throat.

 

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