Change of Heart

snickered, gesturing at me. "I thought you were alone."
    No one was scared, and worse, they knew what I was; they were not mistaking me for an animal. I felt the knowledge in the pit of my stomach like a rock. Discovery 7
    Change of Heart
    by Mary Calmes
    was bad for those in another's territory without permission. I lowered my head for the coming fight.
    "You think I would be out without a chaperone at this time of night?" the girl breathed out, challenging them, walking backwards, away from the men, toward me. "You better back off; this is only one of my bodyguards."
    Only at that moment did they look hesitant. Nothing else scared them except the possibility that I was the vanguard of her tribe. They all moved back, darting looks back and forth before they suddenly turned and ran. I was exhilarated for the second before I heard them calling for the others, their growls carrying in the night.
    "Oh God," she whimpered, stepping back, her hand clutching at my fur before she suddenly released me and started tearing at her clothes, stripping as fast as she could.
    Her eyes were huge, wild, and she was looking back across the lot as well as checking me, making sure I wasn't going to attack her. I would have shifted and told her she had nothing to worry about; being gay, I had no interest in anything outside of protecting her, but I wanted her to change as fast as she could, and I needed her to focus, not divide her energy.
    As I suspected, her shifting took several minutes. Muscle and bone reformed as her body twisted and convulsed. I could tell that it hurt, her transformation, and my guess was that she hated it. I did too, for altogether different reasons. I heard the pad of paws in snow and was relieved to see Crane racing toward me. She huddled against my side, but the reassuring bump of my nose soothed her. When Crane 8
    Change of Heart
    by Mary Calmes
    stopped, frozen, in front of me, she slowly peeked around my side to get a look at him.
    I saw him shudder, and had I been human, I would have yelled at both of them. They were having a tender moment when we should have been running. But between waiting through her change and not wanting to leave without him, the time for flight had passed. It was too late; there were cats pouring over the chain-link fence to come and attack the three of us. We had to stand and fight instead of running for safety. Feeling a bump on my shoulder, I turned and saw Crane staring at me, waiting for what I would do. The female panther was holding out for me as well, her desire for my protection overwhelming her instinctive urge to run. They were both scared, and when I bolted forward, they followed right behind me.
    Huge, razor-sharp claws came at my face, but I easily avoided the attack. Every cat I had ever met moved in slow motion in comparison to me, so I was able to veer out of the way without even being touched. The body that leaped at me I knocked aside with my lowered head, more bull than panther. I saw gleaming fangs and batted the face away, running over the fallen animal under me. I plowed through the pack, only vaguely aware of anything but getting my charges out of there. There were six or seven of them in all, huge male panthers all trying to prevent our escape, but they came at me one at a time instead of working together to stop us. One at a time, my odds were better, and the glimmer of hope grew as both the female and Crane followed me precisely, intuitively knowing that we could not be separated.
    9
    Change of Heart
    by Mary Calmes
    Another of the panthers charged forward, and I leaped over him, landing briefly on his back before pushing back off.
    He crumpled under me, and the force of my jump sent him tumbling. As I turned to run, the female was suddenly grabbed and pulled away. I whirled around to face her attacker, who stood, frozen, over her, staring at me. His teeth were bared; his lips drawn back over long, sharp, dagger-like fangs and blackened gums. He could easily dip his head and inflict damage to her, so, hoping to intimidate him, I lifted myself up, lengthened my neck, and took in a deep breath, letting the growl gather in my throat. I knew what I looked like, as though I myself were a fragment of the night. As a black panther, I was different from the golden cat standing before me, and he had probably not seen one like me before.
    I was rare, more so than he could imagine. When his scent changed, I was relieved. I could smell the fear.
    I watched in