the end of his tail. Hellene ran, but I pounced on her and held her down as I tore open her chest. A shame about those breasts. I leapt up the stairs and found more cloaked Farungals lurking in the house. They attacked me as the servants ran. I let the humans go but slaughtered every Farungal I found, chasing down the ones who tried to flee.
Frigid blood filled my mouth, and I spat it out. Still, I went back for more, my tongue recognizing the taste of my enemy. And it felt good. Free. The power rippling through my muscles was like a raging river; it bore me along on it while I tried to keep my head above water. But these rapids were deadly only to those who threatened me. For me, they were a wild ride that I never wanted to end. Killing was instinctual, second-nature to this body, almost a basic need. The feel of scaled skin beneath my claws was akin to digging my toes in warm sand—a relief and pleasure combined.
Finally, I stood, panting, in a demolished room I didn't recognize, bits of broken furniture lying around me and blood dripping from the ceiling. I cocked my massive head at the gore above me and made a harrumphing sound. I couldn't recall how it got there, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that my prey was dead. A satisfied rumble vibrated my throat. The house was eerily quiet, and I was confident it would stay that way. Those servants hadn't gone for help, not when their mistress had been dealing with the Farungal and a Leopard faerie was the one who killed her. I shook the blood off my whiskers, spat the remnants from my mouth, and shifted back to Sidhe with the ease of breathing.
Then I gawked at my reflection in a blood-drenched mirror and exclaimed, “What the fuck just happened?”
I remembered the winged man and then that feminine voice. The mere memory of that voice made the hair raise on my arms. I had shifted! It shouldn't have been possible even if I'd known how. Those iron manacles should have prevented it. But there was no denying that it had happened. And no denying who had helped to make it happen.
Overwhelming gratitude filled me, and I dropped to my knees in the filth. “Thank you, Goddess,” I whispered as I hung my head. “I've been an ass, but you still saved me. I will never disrespect you again.”
A trill of amusement flit through my mind.
“I mean it,” I insisted. “You claimed me as your child, and I humbly accept. I am yours.” Then I realized I was naked. And kneeling in a pile of gore. “Ugh. I need some clothes. And a towel. And a bath. Would it be wrong to borrow Hellene's shower? I killed her, but she started it.”
I trailed blood out of the room, then wiped my feet off on one of Hellene's pretty rugs. I didn't think she'd care anymore. Besides, it was hardly noticeable what with the bodies and blood everywhere.
“I can't believe she drugged me,” I grumbled. “She probably followed me to that fucking cafe from the Lorre. I wonder if the waiter was in on it? I should go back and have a talk with the bastard.”
I found a bathroom first and quickly washed off the blood. Then I searched the house until I found the servants' quarters and searched those until I found some clothes that fit me. I had to look a little longer for boots that fit, but then I was dressed and felt much better. Good enough to grumble more.
“Fuck, I'm hungry. Killing monsters after nearly getting sacrificed to a death stone can work up an appetite.” I started to head toward the kitchen, then thought better of it. I didn't know how long I'd been out, but I knew it was long enough that Kardri was pissed. “That fucker better not have left me here.” I headed for the front door and was nearly there before I remembered the amulet. “Yeah, maybe you shouldn't leave the fucking Farungal soul stone of death here, you idiot.”
I spun and ran back to the basement. There were only body parts left down there, no full corpses. I gaped at the gore; I didn't remember going apeshit on them. Or would it be leopardshit?
“I shifted,” I whispered as I stared at the evidence of a massacre. “I'm a fucking faerie. A fucking