The knife flew off to my right and clattered against a tree trunk, then disappeared, buried within a pile of leaves. Now I was alone with an unknown stray, in the dark, in unfamiliar woods—and completely unarmed. If I remained stuck in human form much longer, I was clearly going to need some serious training with a blade.

Until then, all I had was anger and instinct, now singeing every nerve ending in my body. I was one big live wire, buzzing with fear and indignation. But my indecision was gone. “Let me go!” My arm flew along with my last word, and my fist slammed into the side of his skull before the cry had faded from my mouth.

Stunned for a moment, the stray swayed on his feet—all four of them. He blinked, then his mouth opened, and I was free.

I raced down the dark hillside in the direction I’d come from. Hopefully. At my back, the stray roared in fury, and thundered after me. “Marc!” I yelled as the running pant closed in on me from behind. “Jace!”

“Faythe!”

My head whipped around in search of Marc’s voice. He was at least okay enough to yell, and he wasn’t too far away now. I veered toward him, confident he would never have revealed his location if the cat who’d snarled was still a threat.

From behind me came a harsh crunch-sliding sound and the pant of labored breathing as the stray made a sharp turn to follow me. His next huff was too close for comfort—too close for survival—so I shot forward to gain a little distance, then skidded to a halt, spinning on a bed of leaves before I’d even stopped sliding. I grabbed a bare branch overhead with both hands. The stray lunged for me. Grunting, I swung myself forward. Bark cut into my palms. My legs arced into a beam of moonlight, knees bent.

I didn’t make it into the tree—a world-class gymnast I am not—but my legs swung high enough that the stray passed right under me. By the time he skidded to a halt, I was racing in the opposite direction, away from both friends and foe.

I couldn’t outrun the cat, much less outclimb him, and I could only avoid him until he tired of the chase. Or until I grew too exhausted to continue—which would be any moment. Already my lungs burned, and my side felt like it was being ripped open with each deep breath.