Some unacknowledged tension in me eased, and I felt myself relax, both mind and body. Even with Jace listening and the stray no doubt watching from the brush, Marc’s scent and touch—as familiar to me as the planes of my own face—triggered responses I’d thought never to feel again. At least, not until I’d convinced him to give me another chance.

I tasted Marc, and recollection merged with reality, leaving me hopelessly confused, and craving something that was no longer an option. For several moments I kissed him back, and he let me, our role-playing forgotten amid the assault of memory and craving.

Then, when I’d nearly forgotten not only where I was, but who I was, his left hand snuck beneath my jacket and up my shirt. He pinched the flesh over my ribs, twisting brutally.

I gasped and shoved him away, furious until I remembered that I’d missed my cue. “Son of a bitch! That—” fucking hurt! “—was completely out of line!” My right hand curled into a fist, and when I let it fly, Marc didn’t duck. He took the blow as planned, on his left jaw. His head snapped back, and before he could “recover,” I took off through the brush.

Before I’d gone twenty feet, I stumbled over an exposed root, and had to grab a branch to stay upright. Stupid human feet. I glared at a clump of brush I could have bounded right over on four legs, but had to go around on two, my arms pumping furiously at my sides. I kept one eye on the ground, desperately wishing for my sharper cat’s vision as I searched the shadows in vain for obstacles before I tripped over them.

I had to concentrate so hard on staying upright and in motion that at first I thought of nothing but outrunning the stray. I paid little attention to where I’d been or where I was headed—or where Marc and Jace had gone—because I was accustomed to running in cat form, with a sensitive nose and ears to guide me.

After a couple of minutes of running, I realized I was alone. I stopped in a small clearing to listen. My own heartbeat drowned out the ambient chirps, croaks, and slithers of any woodland creatures not scared off by my mad dash through their forest home, but above even that I heard the distant sounds of a human crashing through the woods in my direction. Marc.