"What the blasted hell!”
Shannon nudged the body of a bull calf with the tip of her boot. The sun had risen early and was now a sweltering ball in the sky. She lifted her Stetson allowing the warm air to ruffle her long blonde hair, and then settled it back onto her head. The stench of the dead beast assailed her nose. Blowflies swarmed in the wounds, maggots already visible. She stepped back and turned away before she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the yellow grass at her feet.
The youngster was the third victim this week with the same wounds—stomach ripped out, gut eaten or missing. Was there some strange cult attacking her animals? Or perhaps a grizzly? If so, the bear was a long way from home. Unless it was the Stradbroke’s pet bear, Pebble. It wouldn’t be the first time the creature had gotten loose and killed one of her cattle.
She pursed her lips and gazed at the line of pines edging her land. She could swear she saw something move. A large, black cat—. She shook her head. Impossible. Black panthers were almost extinct, and she’d never heard of one hanging around this part of the country. It was probably Pebble. She’d have to call Walt; something she didn’t look forward to, he could be a grumpy old coot, especially when it came to his darling bear.
She swung away and headed back toward Fargo, the horse she’d tethered to a fence post some distance to the north. The animal had started to revolt at the first whiff of the dead calf.
Reaching her horse, she grabbed the reins, slipped her foot into the stirrup and swung up unto the mount’s back, then glanced back at the trees again. Nothing. If she’d seen something, it was long gone. Yet, she had to face facts. Something had struck her animals three times now, which meant she’d have to hire a few men to help bring the herd closer to home. Losing more cattle wasn’t an option. With a nudge to Fargo’s sides, she turned and rode for home.
* * *
Crouched behind a large fallen log, Cole watched from the trees. As much as the woman tried to disguise herself, she was a bundle of femininity in her snug blue jeans, Stetson, and plaid shirt pulled too tight across her breasts.
He was sorry he’d had to kill the bull but instinct had prevailed and his hunger had won over. He rose from his hiding place and brushed the twigs and dry grass from his knees. Then he turned south up into the hills to the place between two large rocks where he’d hidden his pack and his young sister waited.
He knew better now than to be clothed when he shifted. He’d end up naked with nothing to wear but rags, so he’d hide his clothes and fetch them after his change.
He’d heard someone approaching down in the valley and wanted to explore. He and his sister had camped in the hills for three nights now and it was time they moved on.
They’d been on the run for days, well, years really. The man he knew as Granger was never far behind, the damned lunatic. Would he ever give up? Doubtful since he’d been tracking him for almost ten years. The only thing Cole had over the man was that the hunter had never seen his face, or Mia’s. He’d only seen them in animal form.
It would be easy if they never had to shape change, but genetic factors entered into the transformation. He’d tried several years ago to go without changing but had almost shifted in a large shopping center in Denver. What a riot that would have caused. Luckily, he had time to escape out the back entrance, across the carpark, and into a ditch along the highway. He’d still been spotted by an old drunk, but he doubted anyone would have believed the man when he told him he’d seen a large black cat.
After a time he returned to the dingy hotel where Mia waited for him. Unfortunately, without their groceries.
Cole laughed under his breath. He could see the headline now if he hadn’t escaped, “Black Panther Terrorizes People in Shopping Mall on Black Friday!”
So now he knew. If he forced the change at least once a month, he could control the time and place. Something his parents had forgotten to mention before their deaths, or another thing he’d forgotten to ask. At the time, he was a teenager, and knew everything, or thought he did. Turned out he knew nothing. He’d had to survive on instinct alone, and bring up his little sister to the best of his ability. He took small jobs here and there to survive.
But he had another problem. Mia couldn’t control the shift, didn’t understand at ten years of age. Every evening, she’d revert to a small black panther. Fortunately, they could communicate telepathically.
His anger burned at the thought of the man who killed his father and then his mother. All because of a few stinking sheep.
His memory flowed back…
Shannon nudged the body of a bull calf with the tip of her boot. The sun had risen early and was now a sweltering ball in the sky. She lifted her Stetson allowing the warm air to ruffle her long blonde hair, and then settled it back onto her head. The stench of the dead beast assailed her nose. Blowflies swarmed in the wounds, maggots already visible. She stepped back and turned away before she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the yellow grass at her feet.
The youngster was the third victim this week with the same wounds—stomach ripped out, gut eaten or missing. Was there some strange cult attacking her animals? Or perhaps a grizzly? If so, the bear was a long way from home. Unless it was the Stradbroke’s pet bear, Pebble. It wouldn’t be the first time the creature had gotten loose and killed one of her cattle.
She pursed her lips and gazed at the line of pines edging her land. She could swear she saw something move. A large, black cat—. She shook her head. Impossible. Black panthers were almost extinct, and she’d never heard of one hanging around this part of the country. It was probably Pebble. She’d have to call Walt; something she didn’t look forward to, he could be a grumpy old coot, especially when it came to his darling bear.
She swung away and headed back toward Fargo, the horse she’d tethered to a fence post some distance to the north. The animal had started to revolt at the first whiff of the dead calf.
Reaching her horse, she grabbed the reins, slipped her foot into the stirrup and swung up unto the mount’s back, then glanced back at the trees again. Nothing. If she’d seen something, it was long gone. Yet, she had to face facts. Something had struck her animals three times now, which meant she’d have to hire a few men to help bring the herd closer to home. Losing more cattle wasn’t an option. With a nudge to Fargo’s sides, she turned and rode for home.
* * *
Crouched behind a large fallen log, Cole watched from the trees. As much as the woman tried to disguise herself, she was a bundle of femininity in her snug blue jeans, Stetson, and plaid shirt pulled too tight across her breasts.
He was sorry he’d had to kill the bull but instinct had prevailed and his hunger had won over. He rose from his hiding place and brushed the twigs and dry grass from his knees. Then he turned south up into the hills to the place between two large rocks where he’d hidden his pack and his young sister waited.
He knew better now than to be clothed when he shifted. He’d end up naked with nothing to wear but rags, so he’d hide his clothes and fetch them after his change.
He’d heard someone approaching down in the valley and wanted to explore. He and his sister had camped in the hills for three nights now and it was time they moved on.
They’d been on the run for days, well, years really. The man he knew as Granger was never far behind, the damned lunatic. Would he ever give up? Doubtful since he’d been tracking him for almost ten years. The only thing Cole had over the man was that the hunter had never seen his face, or Mia’s. He’d only seen them in animal form.
It would be easy if they never had to shape change, but genetic factors entered into the transformation. He’d tried several years ago to go without changing but had almost shifted in a large shopping center in Denver. What a riot that would have caused. Luckily, he had time to escape out the back entrance, across the carpark, and into a ditch along the highway. He’d still been spotted by an old drunk, but he doubted anyone would have believed the man when he told him he’d seen a large black cat.
After a time he returned to the dingy hotel where Mia waited for him. Unfortunately, without their groceries.
Cole laughed under his breath. He could see the headline now if he hadn’t escaped, “Black Panther Terrorizes People in Shopping Mall on Black Friday!”
So now he knew. If he forced the change at least once a month, he could control the time and place. Something his parents had forgotten to mention before their deaths, or another thing he’d forgotten to ask. At the time, he was a teenager, and knew everything, or thought he did. Turned out he knew nothing. He’d had to survive on instinct alone, and bring up his little sister to the best of his ability. He took small jobs here and there to survive.
But he had another problem. Mia couldn’t control the shift, didn’t understand at ten years of age. Every evening, she’d revert to a small black panther. Fortunately, they could communicate telepathically.
His anger burned at the thought of the man who killed his father and then his mother. All because of a few stinking sheep.
His memory flowed back…
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