“Here, kitty-kitty,” he darkly taunted with an eerie voice that carried on the wind. “Don’t you want to see how well those claws cut through my straw?”
He enjoyed this fucking game too fucking much. I couldn’t be sure whether it was because ofwhohe was chasing orwhyhe was chasing her.
Noting his jagged patterns through the rows of corn, if he was truly locked on her trail, she was being a smart girl. It seemed she could be using her size to cut through the towering stalks, staying out of the moonlight to blend in with the earth and shadows.
Just when I thought that perhaps she had managed to escape the field altogether, I saw the slightest glint of green eyes. Her pointed ears flattened against her head, and her whiskers twitched before she was back into the darkness again.
She was heading back towards the festival, but Bale was covering more ground in twice the time. His speed was unnatural for his size, especially against a significantly smaller being.
Going back towards the festival wouldn’t be ideal for either of them. There could be potential witnesses if they strayed from the courtyard’s celebrations. The only hope I could hold onto was that it was late enough in the evening and that most of Falston’s residents would either be drunk or leaving to go home.
However, just the thought of any unwanted exposure forced me to flap my wings with all the strength I could summon. I kept glancing down, watching them both get closer to the field’s edge.
I needed to be on the other side of that wall of corn stalks when Harlow emerged. Fuck Bale, he could deal with the problems he made for himself by shifting into his scarecrow shape. She came first.
Claws before straw, my friend.
Pushing at my bodily limits, I dropped my altitude dangerously close to the ground. It was going to be a close call, but the nearer to the ground behind the empty corn pit attraction, I was already shifting back to my human form before my feet even hit the ground.
Stumbling, my body burned from the lack of finesse of the rushed shifting, but I didn’t give a damn. My boots were back on my feet, clothes on my body, and I pounded the earth running. Probably the only fucking blessing this curse granted me was no awkward moments of nudity.
I sprinted to where I expected Harlow to exit the field. My body was drawn to her, already positioning myself as her sleek feline form jumped over a fallen ear of corn.
My hands scooped her up around her middle, pulling her directly against my chest. Both of us on edge, my chest heaved with gasping breaths, and her little heart pulsed rapidly inside her chest cavity. Somehow, each beat was synced between us.
Harlow, however, did not take kindly to being snatched up. The hellish growls and hisses coming out of her as she thrashed against me may have been endearing in any other situation.
Fumbling with her squirming, I sucked in a sharp and pained inhale as her claws mauled my hands before her tiny but sharp fangs sank into the flesh of my hand between my thumb and forefinger.
“Shit!” I hissed.
The puncturing bite loosened my hold enough for her to drop from my grasp.
She landed on her feet, as cats always did. But as I leaned over to draw her into my arms, it was then that Bale stumbled out of the field.
He at least had the sense to transform back into his human form, giving me a small sense of relief.
During that brief distraction, suddenly Harlow’s very human head nearly smacked my chin as she shot up onto her feet. It had me staggering back several steps to avoid the collision.
Breathlessly, Bale smiled at her as his hands rested on his hips.
“Predictable,” he said smugly. The word hung between them like an insult.
Harlow’s hands straightened out the wrinkles in her dress with aggression in each sweep of the fabric. Her emerald hues glowed with enough intensity that I was certain they could power an entire city.
She jabbed a finger in Bale’s direction, several feet of space between them. Her cheeks flushed either with exertion or fury, probably both.
“You want to talk about being predictable? Let’s start with your inflated ego as a cover for your self-sabotaging behavior!”
Keeping my hands up in a gesture of no harm, I stepped forward. “Let’s take a deep breath?—”
That’s when she spun and pointed a finger at me accusingly, stopping my attempt to mediate.
“And you!” she began before she shifted on her feet, her nostrils flaring with every labored breath from the pursuit. “You— Well, you?—”
“I…?” I asked softly, leaning forward slightly to show I was listening to whatever words she wanted to hit me with.
She paused, visibly grinding her teeth in frustration. “Do you even know what he can do?”
