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Coyote shrugged his massive shoulders and turned away. “TV it is, then. You have HBO?”
EIGHT
The skinwalker struck just after one.
Naomi lay against Jamison on the sofa, her warm head on his shoulder, while he and Coyote watched an old horror movie. Coyote had laughed all the way through the movie, pointing out flaws in the plot, claiming no werewolf would act like that. And anyway, there was no such thing as werewolves, he said; only Changers who could take wolf form.
Jamison didn’t notice the movie, listening for every noise outside.
He knew the skinwalker had arrived when the house suddenly went black. The television noise ceased abruptly and the pinprick lights on the Christmas tree died. Jamison picked up a flashlight from the coffee table and pressed it into Naomi’s hands. He heard Coyote reach for and lift the now-loaded shotgun.
Something scraped on the boards of the porch. The door-knob rattled then there was more scraping, then silence. Jamison saw Naomi’s eyes glitter in what little moonlight penetrated the windows, saw the glisten of the shotgun’s barrel, held steady by Coyote.
They heard a quiet splinter of glass in the back door’s window, then the latch clicked and the hinges creaked. A huge creature stood in the open doorway, blocking the light outside.
His stench was overpowering. Jamison’s sense of smell had developed sharply since his Changer ability had manifested, and the odor made him want to vomit.
Beside him, Naomi clicked on the flashlight and shone it full on the creature. He must have been eight feet tall, his skin crusted with blood from his earlier wound. His eyes were huge and red, teeth jagged. He was a far cry from the clean-shaven, controlled Alpha Jamison knew. Skinwalkers could take the shapes of their victims, so he must have killed the real Alpha a long time ago and stepped into his life.
The skinwalker roared and charged into the kitchen. Coyote brought the shotgun up and fired.
The gun’s roar blotted out all other sound. The creature moved fast, spinning away from the shot, and Jamison couldn’t tell if he’d been hit. A second later the skinwalker was back on his feet and crashing toward them.
Jamison shoved Naomi at Coyote. “Get her out of here!”
Naomi screamed as Coyote grabbed her and hauled her to the front door. Jamison began ripping off his clothes, willing the change to come.
Changing without stilling his mind could be painful and made him nauseous, but he had no choice. His limbs jerked as they became the strong legs of a mountain lion, his face aching as the shift took him.
The skinwalker lunged, trying to get past Jamison to Naomi. Jamison knew the strategy: Kill the mate, weaken the Changer.
Jamison leapt, twisting to plant all four paws into the giant creature’s chest. The skinwalker’s foul stench nearly overwhelmed him, but he held his breath and raked his claws across the being’s flesh.
The skinwalker wrapped two huge arms around Jamison and threw him across the kitchen. Jamison regained his feet, running back at the skinwalker as soon as his claws touched the floor.
His full-on attack gave Coyote time to get Naomi out the front door. The skinwalker threw Jamison aside again and charged after them.
The lights of Naomi’s pickup sliced across on the skinwalker’s body, and he threw up one hand to block the glare. The truck roared at him. Coyote hunched over the wheel, Naomi next to him with the shotgun.
The skinwalker leapt into the house again, shoving Jamison in front of him. The truck’s tires squealed as it turned at the last minute.
“Jamison!” Naomi shouted, then Coyote gunned the truck into the street, carrying Naomi to safety.
“Just you and me now,” Jamison said.
Skinwalkers could move fast. Legend said they could keep up with speeding trucks, even fly, and Jamison’s heart beat wildly in fear that the creature would simply turn and chase Naomi. But the skinwalker stalked Jamison, flicking into the human form of the Alpha Changer Jamison had known for two years.
“I never trusted you,” the Alpha hissed.
Jamison morphed back into his own human form. “Looks like you had good reason. Why pretend to be a Changer? Why fool everyone for so long?”
“Changers have a pack. Skinwalkers are alone.”
Was it that simple? Jamison wondered. The skinwalker was lonely?
“And as an Alpha Changer you could control others,” Jamison said. “Don’t bullshit me.”
“You were always resistant to the rules. Why? Did you know what I was?”
