Chapter 1

The moon was high overhead, rounded and full like one of those snow globes that human children like to play with at Christmas. I could barely see her up there watching over me as I slipped through the thick grass, padding lightly on the frost shrouded ground. The night was clear but terribly cold, and my panting formed little puffs of air as it spiraled out of my mouth.

            I was freezing, but it was better than staying inside where Beth could get a hold of me and slobber her kisses all over my fur, or where Kris could trap me into that wretched cat bag and forcibly clip my claws. His so-called manicures always left me with jagged nails the next day. And nobody was going to torture me while I just managed to get them at just the right length.

            As I rounded the gazebo near the path leading to Birchwater Pond, a movement from within the trees alerted me, and I paused in mid step listening. The noise repeated itself: a ruffling of limbs, the sound of snapping twigs on the forest floor. Oh great Mother…… Please don’t let it be Mongo, the neighbor’s dog. That little pisser was the most tenacious basset hound that I’d ever met. The only basset hound I’d ever met, to be honest. He delighted in chasing me whenever I showed up on all fours, baying like a drunken troglodyte. While I could easily outrun the mutt, I didn’t trust him. Of course, to be fair, he wasn’t a Were, just a regular old dog. Probably a good thing, now that I thought about it, considering that he was shy a few bolts in the bucket, but still….. I glanced around, looking for the nearest tall tree. It never hurt to be cautionary.

            When Mongo didn’t run through the underbrush but the noises continued, I reconsidered. Possum, maybe. Or skunk. Skunk would be bad, but this time I’d fight my instincts and leave it alone. Skunk me once, shame on the skunk. Skunk me twice, and I’d never be able to live it down due to my brothers’ jokes.

            As I searched my gut, something told me that my stalker wasn’t an animal. At least not your everyday furble running through the woods. I might not be an illusionist like my brother Jackson, but I had my own set of instincts, and they were whispering loud and clear that somebody was out there. I raised my head and sniffed, inhaling deeply. There. The faint scent of a big cat, but behind that, something stronger. And then I knew what it was that I sensed: cat magic

            Cautiously, I made my way to the gazebo and loped up the stairs. I didn’t want to be caught in the grass unarmed. There wasn’t much I could do in this state if a demon happened to pop out of the woods to attack me. Turn into a ball of fur and razor blades, maybe, but considering my size, fighting back promised a quick and painful end to my existence. Once I was in the gazebo, I’d be able to scramble up on the railing, which would give me a better vantage point from which to observe.

(stay tuned for the next part in this chapter)