"He is not a pale one. It is the pale ones I must kill." She began to walk toward me, the lazy smile on her lips growing. A cat playing with its prey.
I flexed my fingers, trying to ease the tension winding through my muscles. "Why only us pale types? That hardly seems fair."
"Pale women killed my mistress. She hated them, and they killed her."
"Your mistress was killed by a vampire out for revenge. Her death had nothing to do with any of the other people."
Or me. But I don't think the bakeneko cared. Her quest for vengeance had slipped into outright lust for murder.
She was halfway across the room now, her strides long and rolling. There was no tension in her shoulders, no sign that she expected any sort of fight - like she expected me to be a quick and easy kill. And maybe I would be - this bitch might not be stronger than a god of death, but she was certainly faster.
"No," she said. "They took everything from her. They stole her life, so I steal theirs."
"And the men you killed?"
"She hated them. Hated what they did to her." A languid smile drifted across her lips. "I used them like they used her."
Like a cat should talk about behavior when they treated the whole world as underlings. "She was a Trollop. How else would they treat her?"
The bakeneko frowned. "I don't know this word."
"It means she was little better than a filthy cat in heat, and she was treated as such."
The bakeneko's eyes darkened. "For that, I rip you apart slow - "
The words were barely out of her mouth when I leapt at her. I had to - catching her by surprise was my only real hope of doing some serious damage. I had time to see her eyes widen slightly, then I hit her head-on, knocking her down and sideways. We both hit the ground hard, but I rolled to my feet quickly and hit her again, one foot smashing her in the face and mashing her nose flat, the other catching her in the throat. She staggered back, making a gurgling sound, the smirk disappearing under a cloud of anger and pain. I hit the concrete and again pushed upward. The bakeneko's shape was shifting again, becoming a cat from the feet up. But the shapeshift wasn't as fast as before, so maybe the constant fighting and the wounds I'd inflicted on her were beginning to take their toll. Even so, I didn't want to see her in cat shape. Paws that could become the size of buckets held no appeal at all. Not when I had to fight against them, anyway.
I swore and lunged forward, grabbing her arm and twisting it with all my might. She snarled, a sound that came out only half human, then slashed at me with a hand that was partially clawed, ripping through my coat and down into skin. I gritted my teeth against the scream that careened up my throat, but held on to her arm and gave it another twist. Bone shattered and suddenly her left arm was hanging useless. One less weapon to worry about.
She hit me again, knocking me sideways. I staggered several steps before I caught my balance. But by then, she'd attained her full cat shape. And she was leaping straight for my throat.
I dove out of reach and rolled to my feet, then twisted around, lashing out with one booted foot, smashing the heel across her mouth. Flesh and bone gave way under the force of the blow and blood flew.
She snarled again and lashed out with her claws, scraping down my leg and deep into flesh. Pain flared, thick and hot, but I ignored it, spinning again and smashing another blow into her mouth, this time dislodging teeth.
She screamed in fury and launched at me. I had no time to run and met her leap head-on, grabbing her throat with one hand and clawing at her eyes with the other. The breath whooshed from my lungs, leaving me gasping as the bakeneko's back legs clawed at my flesh and her fetid breath washed across my face.
We rolled across the cold concrete, my grunts mingling with her snarls as we punched and clawed at each other. My thumb found her eye socket and I dug deep, desperately trying to blind her. She screamed, the sound deafening, and shook her head from side to side, desperately trying to dislodge my grip. I dug deeper and deeper, until fluid gushed over my thumb and I hit bone. With a quick sideways flick, I tore the eyeball from the socket.
She roared and suddenly her broken teeth were in my flesh, gnawing at my arm. Sweat rolled down my face and white-hot pokers of pain began burning up my arm and into my brain. I drew my legs up, desperately trying to get my feet under her belly before she bit down into bone.
She ripped her head sideways, out of my grip, taking a chunk of flesh with her. A scream burned up my throat, but with it came anger and a desperate strength. My feet found purchase underneath her and I heaved with everything I had, sending her flying up and over my head.
I scrambled to my feet once again and backed away, blood dripping from my fingertips and splashing across the concrete.
The bakeneko hit the far wall and righted herself, her weight on three legs and the right side of her face bloodied and battered. There were strips of flesh - my flesh - hanging from her mouth, and her tongue came out, gathering them inward, before she swallowed.
A bizarre sort of smile stretched her broken features, then her form was shifting once again. Only this time she didn't become a blonde.
This time, she became me.
And she was perfect.
Perfect.
Aside from the fact that she had a broken arm rather than shredded legs and a chunk out of her arm, I might have been staring at a perfectly clothed reflection. Obviously, whatever magic allowed her to change could hide bloodied clothes or a gouged eye, but it couldn't heal a broken limb. It was nice to know that some shifting magic remained constant across species.
"I will walk out of here, guardian. I will walk away with no one being the wiser."