Free Under Her Skin by Margo Bond Collins

you. I promise. Please talk to me.”
    The bobcat beside her growled a little, an answering wave of heat behind me alerting me to the other cats as they took a step forward.
    Rita Bryant held up one hand. “You were a shifter when you helped us before. Why didn’t you tell us?”
    “I didn’t know.”
    Another low growl, another wave of heat.
    “I mean I didn’t know that your children were shifters. I knew I was, of course. I thought maybe I was the only one.” Calm, Lindi. Remain calm.
    The sound of a car bumping up the lane made me want to turn around and look, but every instinct I had insisted that I remain perfectly still. No one else moved, either, not even when the vehicle pulled into the Bryants’ yard and stopped.
    Finally risking a glance behind me, I realized that the black Jeep had parked behind my car.
    Great. Now I’m blocked in.
    I had turned back to face the Bryants, when the slamming of the Jeep door brought a different scent to me—spicy, hot, and unmistakable.
    Kade Nevala.
    I couldn’t decide whether to be irritated or thankful.
    Maybe a little of both.
    “Hello, Rita,” he called out.
    “Dr. Nevala.” Ms. Bryant said, her tone neutral.
    “Hi, Lindi,” he said, all too cheerfully for my taste.
    “Kade.” I aimed for flat, but a slight quaver ran through the word.
    He moved up onto the tiny porch beside me, opening the screen door wider and placing a hand on my back in an oddly comforting gesture of support. “What do you say we take this inside?”
    When he took one step into the house, the Bryant family backed up, just a little. Kade’s fingertips exerted the tiniest bit of pressure, and I followed him. Inside seemed safer than outside, anyway. At least in here, there was only the one fully shifted bobcat. One set of claws to dodge, rather than a dozen.
    Before he shut the screen behind us, Kade spoke to the assembled cats. “You’re all welcome to stay, of course. We may be a while, though. And I give you my word that your clansmen and kits will be safe.” He smiled, his voice dropping once again from formal into cheerful. “And you might want to see what you can do to be a little less conspicuous. I could see you from half a block away. Your neighborhood is private, but it’s not that secluded.”
    At his words, the bobcats began to melt away, until only two remained, and those two laid down in the tall, slightly browned grass so that only someone actively looking for them would notice the black-and-tan fur pattern and ear tufts among the native vegetation that passed for a yard.
    With a sigh of relief, I let Kade shut the door behind us.
    I was totally unprepared when he spun on me and grabbed my upper arms, almost shaking me in his anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “You could have gotten yourself killed. Or worse, exposed these people to the rest of the world.”
    I shrugged him off, his accusations kindling an answering anger in me. “I knew these people, Kade. I worked with them for months, had no indication at all that they might be dangerous. And you, with all your secrets. I don’t see you offering up any information about who’s a shifter and who’s not. It’s not like I had any information to go on at all. So this is all your fault.”
    Rita Bryant interrupted my mini-tirade. “Dr. Nevala? I think we could use an explanation here. I’m right, aren’t I? This woman is a lamia.” She paused, eyeing me up and down again. “What is she doing here? Why is she still alive?”
    The little girl, who had been standing silently, peeked around from behind her mother. When she spoke, she flashed tiny elongated fangs—the kind of partial-shift hangover I remembered from my own childhood. “Yeah, Dr. Nevala,” she said. “Why haven’t you killed the bad snake lady yet?”
    At her words, Kade grabbed me again, though this time the impetus behind it seemed more like protection than irritation.
    I pushed out of his hold, anyway. “What are you