The cat ignored my greeting, and his nose twitched as he took in my scent. He hadn’t seen my weapon, and if he’d smelled the metal, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He edged closer and I backed up, but after one step my foot landed unevenly on a mound of dirt, and my right hand—still clutching the knife at my back—scraped a tree trunk. There was nowhere else to go, unless I was willing to run from the cat. But that would be suicide. Even if he didn’t plan to attack, if I ran, he’d chase me out of instinct.

“Do you live around here?” I asked after a moment’s hesitation.

To my surprise, the stray cocked his head to one side, as if in question. Or confusion.

“Here.” I raised my left arm to take in the immediate surroundings, and the cat jerked. No sudden moves, Faythe. He’s already jumpy. “Do you live in these woods? On this mountain?”

That time he bobbed his head once, then tossed his muzzle toward the north.

“You live that way?” I asked, and he nodded again. Suspicion sent a vine of doubt twisting through me. Keller hadn’t mentioned any werecats living near his territory—only loud, obnoxious invaders.

I glanced toward the north, as if I might be able to see his home through all the trees and brush—not to mention the mountainside—and thus verify his claim. And when I turned to face him again, the stray stood less than five feet away, still watching me. He’d distracted me, then snuck up on me, and I’d fallen for it, thrown off by his apparent cooperation.

“Clever kitty.” Unlike the last stray, this one was neither sick nor confused, so I saw no reason not to gut him if he pounced.

The cat’s nose twitched again, and his whiskers arced forward. He froze, and his ears swiveled one hundred and eighty degrees, listening to something outside the range of my regrettably human ears.

Marc and Jace? Please let it be them.

Eyes still on me, the stray began to swish his tail slowly. His ears returned to their normal position. I had his full attention now, and could practically see eagerness in his very feline expression.

He was preparing to make a move. Either Marc and Jace were too far away to worry about, or they were close enough to rush him into action. I was betting on the former, since I could neither hear nor smell them.

I swallowed thickly and inched another step to the right, my spine still pressed against the tree, the knuckles of my right fist scraping against bark. “What do you…?” Damn it, yes-or-no questions, Faythe. “Do you want something from me?”