My vision shifted between colors and gray as I fought against the shift. “It’s me. Lindi Parker. I’m here to talk to your parents.” The strain of fighting the shift echoed through my voice. A door in the back of the house opened, and the temperature of the room rose at the same time the scent of feline against my tongue intensified. I tamped down harder on my serpent side, even as the children’s mother, in what I now recognized as her human form, padded into the room, accompanied by a full-grown bobcat by her side. “Step away from the door, kids.” She reached out and gathered her children to her, then gently pushed them into the room behind her. The girl’s hand trailed across the bobcat’s back as she passed him. I held myself perfectly still as Rita Bryant’s gaze ran up and down me, landing finally on my face, her brows knitted in confusion. “This isn’t new, is it,” she said, the words more statement than question.
