Feral by Sheri Whitefeather Page A

hard-pressed to do what the magic stones said.
    And unleash the beast.

Five
    N early a week after the phone sex, Jenny stressed about Noah. She hadn’t heard from him since that day and the anticipation was killing her.
    Exhausted from taxing her mind, she plopped down on her sofa and turned on the ten o’clock news.
    Halfway through the weather report, her doorbell rang. Because of the late hour, she rushed to answer it, concerned there might be an emergency at the rescue, something that was better dealt with in person than over the phone.
    She flung open the door, and there stood Noah, in his full cat regalia, staring straight at her.
    Jenny panicked. Had he come here to take her to the club? “Is the voyeurism scheduled for tonight? You should have warned me that—”
    He cut her off. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”
    “Oh, thank goodness. I don’t think I could have been ready that quickly. I’ve been practicing how to do my own hair and makeup, and I bought a new dress to wear, but—” She halted, her train of thought changing in midsentence. “If we’re not going to the club, why are you in costume?”
    “Invite me inside, and I’ll show you why.”
    She stepped away from the door. He seemed restless, and his mannerisms made her nervous. But when didn’t he make her nervous?
    As he entered the house that used to belong to her grandfather, she wondered what kind of impression it made on him. She’d added a few nice touches, like a wallpaper border in the kitchen and a cozy area rug in the den, but mostly she’d kept the outdated furniture and battered ranch accents.
    She attempted to be a proper host. “Can I get you something?”
    He motioned to the TV. “You can turn that off and sit down.”
    She punched the remote and the screen went black. She sat in her grandpa’s old recliner and gestured to the sofa for him.
    “I’d rather stand.”
    She waited for him to make the purpose of his visit known, but he merely stood in the center of her living room, looking at her.
    “You’re scaring me,” she said.
    “I’ve scared you from the start.”
    “I know, but you’re acting strange.”
    “Stranger than usual?”
    She shifted in her seat. “Yes.”
    He lowered his chin, making his catlike features more pronounced, and then he growled, the slow rumble vibrating from his throat. Jenny gripped the armrests on the recliner. He sounded exactly like a mountain lion.
    Another party trick? He was too damned good at them.
    “What are you doing, Noah?”
    He snarled and moved closer.
    “Stop it. This isn’t funny.”
    He snarled again.
    As Jenny struggled to make sense of his behavior, the do’s and don’ts of a mountain lion attack swirled in her mind: don’t run and allow it to give chase; remain standing if you can and try to meet the cat face-to-face; go for its eyes or pound your fists into its head; if at all possible, find something to use as a weapon.
    Did those same rules apply to a crazed man mimicking a wildcat? Or would it behoove her to turn tail and run?
    His claws popped out, and she jumped up, adrenaline bursting through her veins.
    She glanced around for an object to hit him with, but there was nothing within her reach. The lamp was on the other side of the room. Doing the next best thing, she balled up her fists and swung at him.
    He didn’t take her aggression well. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back onto the chair, where it snapped into a reclining position. Slamming his body on top of hers, he pinned her beneath him, making it impossible for her to move.
    Only he didn’t sink his teeth into her flesh or claw viciously at her clothes. Right in front of her, his features began to change, turning from cat to man.
    Within seconds, his eyes went back to normal, along with his teeth, his nails, and his nostrils. Even the tawny streaks in his hair disappeared.
    Stunned, Jenny merely lay there, staring at him. That was a party trick that seemed impossible. Yet he’d