Claw

by Skye MacKinnon

  There's no choice but continuing along the river though. About an hour ago, the wilderness gave way to a rough track that has made our progress a lot faster. It will also hide our footprints from anyone looking for us. Many people have walked along here; the most recent scents are barely a few hours old. If we continue running, we might even overtake them, but I don't want to exert too much energy. We may have to fight before night falls, who knows, so we walk at a brisk pace rather than run. I wish we could shift; we'd cover much more ground that way, but it's too risky. I don't know what will happen if I ask Sophie to shift. She might turn feral and that would waste more time than walking as humans.

  I'm tempted to shift and let her ride on me though. Nobody has ever done that before. I'm not a horse. But she's my little sister and her exhaustion is starting to show. I doubt she ever had to do anything like this before. Almost no sleep, losing her eye and running for two days straight...yup, it's no surprise she's getting slower.

  "Let me know if you want another break," I tell her at some point, but she ignores me. She actually increases her pace as if to prove me wrong. Good girl. I smile but don't comment on it.

  Slowly, the river is getting narrower. It looks more like a river than a lake now, but at the same time, the current increases. White foam lines the muddy banks, covering stones smooth from the water's embrace.

  A sound breaks through the silence and I stop, holding up my hand to alert Sophie. She gives me a small nod. She's heard it too. The snap of a twig, caused by something heavy. Too big to be an animal unless maybe a bear - and none of those live in these parts of the world, as far as I know.

  I crouch on the ground and motion Sophie to do the same. Long grass grows on either side of us and should hide us from view. I strain my senses to find out who made the sound. Male voices drift on the wind, too far to understand their words. It could be grunts searching for us or simple travellers. As much as I hope for the latter, I can't risk it.

  As quietly as I can, I take off my backpack and pull some of the knives from it. I already have the axe slung in a sheath around my waist, but I'm more used to knives and prefer the way they can be used for both throwing and stabbing. And slicing. And nipping. And torturing. And threatening. That's why I love them. I could try and throw the axe, but I've never done that before. It should mostly work as a deterrent. Look at my wicked, sharp axe and run away before I behead you. Something like that.

  Sophie takes a knife as well. She holds it awkwardly. I'm worried she might hurt herself more than others, but I leave her be. Holding a weapon will hopefully make her feel safer. I can scent her fear. She's trying to be brave though and I won't let her notice that I know how scared she is.

  We stay like that, waiting for them to either come closer or to disappear. Sadly, they are following the same track we're on. We could hide in the grass, but to be honest, I'm tired of hiding. There are only two men. I should be able to handle them. I'm not back to full strength, but I've got weapons and I'm desperate. Desperation makes the best motivator. Always fear those who're desperate enough to take risks.

  Finally, their voices are audible.

  "...sweet. Can't wait to taste her."

  "What master doesn't know doesn't hurt him."

  "He only wants the young one unharmed. We can knock her out and have fun with the older one."

  "She smells delicious. Pity he didn't let us enjoy her at the house."

  I shudder. Definitely not random travellers. I look at Sophie to check if she listened too. Her wide-eyed stare tells me everything I need to know.

  "We're going to be fine," I whisper. "Hide in the grass. I'll deal with them."

  She shakes her head. "I'll fight."

  Chapter Thirteen

  The anticipation before a kill is often better than the actual fight. Adrenaline rushes through me, reminding me of the good old days. I'm about to take a life. Two, in fact. Without any regrets or moral implications. Wonderful. It's just what I needed. True, it would be even better if I was in top shape and not half-starved, but you can't have it all.

  I've persuaded Sophie to hide in the high grass after all with the promise that this will make it easier for her to surprise them. I hope she'll decide differently and will stay hidden, but she's my sister. I doubt she'll back down.

  I stay in place, crouched but ready. I'm not going to hide. I'll confront them head-on. Today, I'm not an assassin. I'm a warrior ready to take revenge. My mates would tell me off for this. So would Lily. But I need a bit of fun, and taking risks is a lot of fun. They'll never have to know. Besides, I'm their boss. I'm still the head of M.E.O.W., even though I took a long and involuntary leave of absence. I hope they kept the company going. We'd just started to make a name for ourselves in Attenburgh, especially with Lady Lara, the mayor, on our side.

  The two men are now so close that I can smell them. They're both mutants, but there's a surprising amount of human left in their scents. So far, most of the grunts I've encountered weren't very bright, but these two had an actual conversation. Maybe they were created to be more intelligent than the others. That makes them more dangerous, but they're cocky and way too confident that they'll catch us. And I know that they're intending to hurt me, probably kill me. That makes it all the more motivating to kill them first. And hopefully make them suffer a little, too. Kill one, torture the other. That's the plan.

  When they're around fifty metres away, I get up, revealing myself to them. They don't seem surprised in the slightest. Their senses are better than those of humans, much better. I hope they experience pain like humans, though. It would be no fun otherwise.

  I twirl my knives in my hands. They're kitchen knives, nowhere as sharp and well balanced as the ones I'm used to, but they'll do. In the right hands, even a blunt knife is a formidable weapon. And my hands are the best. Trained from childhood to kill.

  I grin at them. My prey is coming to me. I don't even have to hunt it.

  One of them pulls a long sword from his back. The blade is ragged on one end, like a breadknife. How ugly. The other man has two curved swords, similar to a set I bought at an auction. I didn't like them as much as I'd thought, so they now hang on my wall as decoration.

  "If you give up now, we'll knock you out and you can sleep all the way back to the master," one of them shouts. "If you don't, it'll hurt."

  I give them a sweet smile. "If you give up now, I'll hurt you anyway."

  They both flash their teeth in feral grins. They're going to enjoy this just as much as I will. I'm almost glad. They'll die happy men.

  Without warning, they both start running at me. My instincts kick in and suddenly it's just like before. My body moves in one fluid motion as I jump out of the way while at the same time throwing on of the knives at the mutant on the left. He dodges incredibly fast, but it still hits him in the shoulder. He grunts as it embeds itself in his flesh but he doesn't slow down. He rips it out while running, making blood squirt from the wound. What an idiot.

  Then they're upon me and I lose track of who I'm cutting and who's bleeding the most. The annoying thing is that those mutants heal almost as fast as I injure them. Their healing abilities are much better than mine, which means I have to be careful not to let them hurt me. Which isn't easy, considering there's two of them and one of me. They're massive and they're well-trained, wielding their weapons like extensions of their bodies. I'm kind of impressed; I didn't expect them to use anything but brute force. They work well together. Again, I respect them for it. Still, I'm not going to let them win.

  While they both swing their swords at me, I let myself drop flat to the ground and cut across their hamstrings. They howl in pain and the one to my right wavers, clearly having trouble staying upright. I put all my weight on my arms and swirl my legs around, kicking him right where I cut him.

  He goes down on his knees, but the other guy is still standing - and he's pissed. His sword whistles through the air and I just about manage to evade him. Almost. The tip of his sword has cut i
nto my cheek, but it's not a deep wound and it doesn't hurt enough to distract me. I jump back to my feet and then onto the kneeling man's shoulders. He topples over, giving me the chance to swipe my knives at his throat. He's too fast though and manages to get his arm in the way. The blades slice through his flesh until they meet bone, but they're not sharp enough to cut through that. Blood streams from his wounds, but annoyingly, he's still alive.

  The other man doesn't wait for me to correct that error. He tackles me from behind and it's only thanks to my well-oiled reflexes that he doesn't cleave me in half. I jump off the other guy and face sword-man. The grin on his face mirrors my own. We're both enjoying this. The adrenaline rushing through my body is like rolling in catnip, sweet and addictive.

  "Watch out!" Sophie suddenly yells, but it's too late. One of the curved swords cuts though my left arse cheek. He must have missed whatever his target was, but it hurts like hell. I won't be sitting at the inn tonight.

  I growl and increase my pace, duelling with both men at once. My left leg is a little numb, making it harder to move quickly. I'm starting to feel like I'm at a disadvantage. They heal too fast. If I want to end this before I get any more wounds, I'll have to cut off their heads like I've done with mutants in the past. I doubt my knives will be sharp enough for that, so I let one of them fall to the ground and draw the axe from my sheath.

  The weight of it means my attacks aren't as well balanced, but I have more reach. Axes won't become my favourite weapon any time soon, but I have to admit that burying the blade in one of the grunts' chest is very satisfying. He howls like a wolf and stares at the axe embedded between his ribs. Then he grins and grabs the hilt, forcing me to let go of it. He rips it from his flesh and I watch in shock as the wound knits itself together. Fuck. Now he has my axe and I'm one dagger short.

  I think it's time to switch tactics. In some fights, I can use my small size to an advantage, but right now, it makes it harder for me. I need to be bigger.

  I drop the second knife and shift before it even hits the ground.

  Fur erupts from my skin as my body changes shape; the best feeling in the world. Besides bathing in catnip. My fingernails turn into claws and I swipe at the closest grunt while they're not quite ready yet. They cut through his skin like butter, smooth and satisfying.

  The smell of blood hits me and my cat pushes to the surface. She takes over and I let her. She's been cooped up for too long and deserves to play with her prey. The grunts seem clueless about how to fight a panther. They were good at duelling me, but now I've got the upper hand.

  I launch myself into the air and land on one of them, toppling him over before he can even raise his sword. My jaws clamp around his throat and my teeth sink into his neck. A satisfying crunch signals the breaking of his spine. I turn my head from side to side, then pull, until I've got his throat ripped out, leaving a bloody mess in front of me.

  Blood fills my mouth and I swallow it. Pleasure shoots through my body, my mind, my soul. New strength makes my muscles ripple and my fur rise. I'm strong. And I need more of this sweet nectar.

  The other mutant shouts a battle cry and launches himself at me. I swat him away. He won't distract me from my meal. I lick up the blood still pouring from the man's open throat. It's warm, like tea, but heady like expensive red wine. I can't get enough of it.

  I drink and drink, and even when pain shoots through my back, I ignore it. I already feel the wound healing; the process fastened by the power of the blood I'm devouring. I'm invincible. I'm stronger than ever before. And I'm going to squeeze the life out of the man trying to hurt me.

  I swirl around and meet him head-on, easily evading his strike. I may be big, but I'm also fast and agile. I swipe my claws over his stomach, leaving deep gashes. His entrails peek out from inside. Tasty. I want to eat them. Slurp them like spaghetti.

  He clutches his belly with one hand, but he's not done fighting. And he's angry. No, furious. He knows he might die and that means he's desperate. He's got nothing to lose. And that's how he fights. Wild, untamed, reckless. I love it. But I love the scent of his blood even more. I want it. Mix it with that of his friend and enjoy the cocktail.

  I no longer want to play. I'm hungry. I go in for the kill, not caring that his sword cuts through some of the tendons in my left front leg. I lose my balance, but it's too late for him. His throat is ripped out before he can scream. His eyes are wide, staring at me in shock, then the lights go out and his spirit fades. I let his lifeless body drop to the ground and begin to feast.

  I prefer lapping up the blood, but I don't mind the little pieces of meat that mix with it. Protein, right? It's good for you.

  "Kat, stop it!"

  I ignore my little sister's shout. She doesn't know how good this feels. I've been starved, not just as a human, but as a cat, too. I need this. Need the energy that flows from the mutants' blood into my body. I purr in contentment. This is heaven. I could imagine cat heaven to be like that, if such a thing exists. Fountains, no, waterfalls of mutant blood. Catnip trees reaching towards the sky. Cat milk - the stuff humans give to kittens - in large ponds. Panther-sized toys filled with catnip and silver vine. And to top it off, some small cardboard boxes I can try to squeeze myself into.

  Without thinking, I drop to one side and rub against the grassy ground. Sooooo good. I want someone to scratch between my ears. Hard. But since nobody is doing that, I push against one of the grunts' bodies and use him as a scratch tree. Yes, rub that pussy.

  With every drop of blood I lap up, my cat becomes stronger while my human self shrinks into the background. Rational thought doesn't matter when there are mutant blood and meat to enjoy. The pleasure of sating my hunger is the only thing that matters.

  Once I've finally had my fill, I stretch my long limbs and yawn. Time for a nap. But not here. It's too exposed and there's a pesky human trying to get my attention. I ignore her. I'm no longer hungry and besides, she's not fleshy enough to make a good dessert.

  I shake my fur, getting rid of some of the blood, and run away from the river. Shouts follow me, but I'm far more interested in the forest in the distance. I'll find a tree there and have a long, relaxing nap. And then it'll be time to hunt. Now that I've tasted mutant blood, I need more of it. I can't imagine going back to eating small mammals. No way. And if I can't get any mutants, I'll have to resort to humans.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Life as a cat is easy. Sleep, eat, sleep, repeat.

  The forest is full of life. I do eat the occasional squirrel, but I long for something more satisfying. I've been back to where I killed the mutants, but they'd disappeared. I'd even licked the ground where they'd lain, hoping for some of that sweet, alluring taste. No such luck.

  The human within me knows where more mutants are, but she hides that knowledge from me. She's refusing to talk to me, so I've pushed her away, locked her deep inside me. I used to be the prisoner within her; now we've changed roles.

  I love my freedom. Humans are so complicated. It makes me bored just thinking about all their problems. I should have taken control a long time ago. It's better for both of us. In this forest, we're the biggest animal around. Everyone cowers before us. Everyone is dinner.

  I jump off the branch I've been resting on and rub against the bark of the tree. So good. It's not the same as being stroked by a human, but it's still pleasant enough.

  I'm hungry, but I'm not in the mood for squirrel. I need a proper meal.

  I push into my mind until I reach Kat. She glares at me. She's not happy about being kept in the dark. I give her a little purr, almost an apology but not quite.

  Where do I find more yummy mutants?

  She pushes up her mental barriers and I'm expelled. I growl. That wasn't very polite. I only wanted to know where to get more of the best food around. She must feel my hunger. When she's in charge, I feel her desires too. They're not high on my list of priorities - I much prefer to snooze and let the world drift by until she lets me shift - but I do kno
w what her hunger feels like. Maybe I should starve myself until she tells me her secret, but that sounds like too much work.

  Maybe it's time to leave the forest and look for the nearest human settlement. I might find mutants there, and if not, humans don't taste too bad either. Kat has never let me eat one, but I've had their blood and meat in my mouth while killing them. It'll be a change from squirrel and deer. More fun to hunt, too. Humans are slow and don't have any claws or even hooves to defend themselves with, but they are fairly clever. They create weapons and aren't hesitant to use them. They're inherently cruel. Especially when it comes to their own kind. Some of the things I've seen through Kat's eyes have made me very glad that I'm not human.

  I shake my fur once again and turn towards the fresh scent of the river. Humans, here I come.

  I'm a captive. Again. If it wasn't so depressing, I'd laugh. Imprisoned by my cat side. She's taken over like never before. Is that what they call going feral? It must be. Lennox went feral when his collar was first removed, but he didn't stay a wolf for as long as I have now been running around as a panther. Five days. I'm so sick of the taste of squirrel. I'll become a vegetarian after this. Or at least I'll stick to animals that have more meat and less sinew. And a lot less furry. I think there's still squirrel hair lining my throat. That's going to be one epic hairball.

  I can do nothing but watch as my cat runs towards the river where I killed the grunts. We've been here before, but this time, she turns right and follows the path upstream. I hope Sophie made it to the inn and found Gryphon. I was so close. But of course it wasn't to be. A little bit of luck would have been too much of a change to all the misery that's befallen me. I didn't expect my cat to be the traitor though.

  She's unpredictable in her frenzied state. I don't think I'd be able to stop her from killing any humans she might come across. And that's bad. She'll be caught; news will get to Lord Delaney and he'll send more mutants. She'd love that, but I know better. The delicious taste of grunt blood isn't worth the risk of ending up in Delaney's dungeon again. That would be worse than being kept prisoner by my own cat. Who's kind of me. So I'm basically being kept hostage by me. My life is crazy.