I'd smelled it before.
If I'd been paying attention, I would have known the second I caught the noxious odor of sulfur when I stepped out of the car and hugged Jack. The last time I'd smelled it had been near my sister's body at the morgue. Before that, at the abandoned warehouse. Since both of these places are often associated with unpleasant odors, I didn't file it away.
Stupid.
Maybe no one taught me the ins and outs of being a shapeshifter, but I sure as heck should understand my hyper-senses. Smell is smell. Didn't I once learn that odors trigger memories more than any of the other senses? And I, of the awesome cat nose, didn't make use of it.
Stupid cat. Bad cat.
I stare at the gray shadows of my bedroom. Maybe Jack really is seeing things. After all, they had shot her up with The Dark or something else to put her into a near comatose state. Maybe the odor is a byproduct of the drug. That would make sense. Sulfur is a chemical, after all. Would they use it to manufacture drugs? I didn't see that in Breaking Bad.
And I didn't see it in any of the formulas I'd copied down out of that old stack of letters from Cherry Hill. That was a dead end. The man who'd written them has been dead for at least a hundred years. But I kept them. Even saved the formulas on my computer. Call it a hunch.
I roll out of bed and stare out my window. I left the shade up to keep an eye on Jack. Her window is lit. But I doubt she'd be turning off the lights any time soon. They probably have her on meds to help her sleep. I don't see how she could otherwise.
Are there really demons? I couldn't see them. Neither could Grant. But maybe I am smelling them. And maybe it's time to track down a few and find out what's going on. I grab my new Android phone that was waiting for me in my room and send a text to Antonio. I hope he's still awake.
Going for a stroll. Can you leave me a bag of clothes at our favorite shop? Just in case.
I don't want to send too many details in case my emails are being intercepted. Despite the new account, I have little faith in my own security measures. Antonio responds immediately.
you got it.
For a creep, he's my new favorite person. I pull open my window and pop out the screen, something years of sneaking out of my room has taught me to do silently. I peer down the side of the house. It can't be more than twenty feet. Even better, though, is the garage roof a few feet to my left. Two quick jumps and I'll be out.
Time to call out the cat.
I strip off my clothes, praying that nobody ever walks in on me like this. Of course, catching a black panther in here wouldn't be much better. But at least I'd be covered in fur.
With my eyes closed, I reach deep into my mind and relax, seeing the cat. It's easier now. It actually takes effort to keep the cat contained. This scares me a little. What If I can't contain it some day? Time to worry about that later.
My limbs tremble. Every nerve feels as if it's being ripped from my flesh. My muscles throb and pulse.
Breathe.
Fire shoots through my muscles. My skin stretches.
Breathe.
At the moment I don't think I can stand it anymore, it's over.
I look down at my legs and arms. I can stand upright, just like the Dogman could, but I'm far more comfortable on all fours. I drop and put my paws up on the window sill. The black night is replaced with images of white and green light. My senses are even more heightened in my cat body, and I have to filter out a lot of background noise. All is quiet from Jack's window. Her shade is drawn, but I'm certain she's sleeping peacefully. Well, as peacefully as one could hope.
With one push I'm out the window and on the garage roof. I pause again to listen and sniff the wind. Wouldn't do to read about a panther sighting on my mother's garage in tomorrow's Detroit Free Press. Satisfied that I'm alone, I leap to the driveway. I stare longingly at my little green car for a moment, then plunge into the night.
I've got a long run ahead of me.