She shook her head slowly and picked up her new coat on her way to the closet. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t remember much of it anyway.” Suddenly Kaci’s arms were empty, and something thunked into the wall. I turned just in time to see her new coat slide down the dark wood paneling, and by the time my gaze returned to where she’d been standing, she was gone.

Damn, she moves like she was born a werecat! But that wasn’t possible. She was just a fast learner, and her learning curve was no doubt sharpened by more than two months spent exclusively in cat form.

Kaci paced the length of the room in long, furious strides, glancing at the window every few steps, as if the world outside was calling to her. It probably was. She’d spent the past ten weeks sleeping on a mattress of earth, under a canopy of tree limbs and stars, and now she’d been cooped up in a single room for nearly twenty-four hours. I could see cabin fever raging in her eyes. I smelled impatience and desperation in the fresh sweat beaded above her upper lip and along her hairline.

If I couldn’t calm her down, she’d make a break for it, and at least half a dozen toms would chase her, making a bad situation several times worse.

“Kaci…” I stood, unsure how to approach her, but she turned on me, a mixture of fear and fury battling for control of her expression.

“No! I can’t change what happened, so what’s the point in thinking about it? Huh? Why are you trying to make me crazy? Don’t you think I’m close enough now?”

Surprise numbed my tongue and stole my voice. Or at least my ability to use it with anything resembling skill or finesse. “I’m not trying to make you do anything.” Lie. “I know exactly how you feel.” Lie. “I need to know what happened so we can find the bastard who did this to you. We just want to help you.” Lie. That wasn’t all we wanted. The council wanted her womb, and Malone evidently thought this new tabby was the key to ridding himself of my entire family.