Her looks make her look definitely feline. Sharp cut features, raven hair, and golden eyes with pupils slightly more elongated than usual. The way she moves makes every step look like a carefully practiced dance. She constantly hears that she must be more cat than human. How right they are.

Tara is a Neko, but looks perfectly human. Usually. Her feline form is that of a jaguar. Sleek, black, beautiful.

She sits calmly at a small table in the bar. Her golden eyes are locked to the softly swirling remains of her amber colored drink. The only lights in there are the red shaded lamps and black lights. She seems oblivious to the loud music or the people milling about her. She stands and finishes off her drink and walks out the door.

She doesn’t notice the man following her. Long black trench coat trails behind him. His chestnut hair is blown softly by the late December wind. Most people are Christmas shopping. But most people have someone special. Tara is alone. Her parents, long dead. And friends are a liability.

She pulls her leather coat tighter around her blue sweater and then stuffs her hands into the pockets of her dark jeans. Her eyes stay to the ground. Lost in a world of their own.

The man follows her, his pale blue eyes never leaving her. He checks the dagger in his spring-loaded holder and picks up the pace. Only feet away now. He won’t stab her in the back. That is too low.

“Beast, turn and face me!” he yells, his voice strong and commanding.

She turns to face him, a look of sorrow on her face. “For your sake, don’t”

He doesn’t listen, instead rushes forward. She reaches out and grabs his wrist in a quick movement. She snaps it back and hears the crack of his wrist snapping.

He drops to the ground, but forces himself back up using his good wrist. The dagger flashes in the starlight as he tosses it to his other hand. He comes again, and this time she locks he hands around his neck. She looks him in the eye. “Go, this is your last chance.”

Before she can remove her hands, he stabs again with the knife. She tightens her grip on his neck and jumps back. The blade barely scratches along the surface of her skin. She took one hand from his neck and pulled the dagger out of his loosening grip.

The look of sorrow is still on her face as she snaps his neck. He drops to the ground dead. One tear slides down her face. She turns into the form of the Jaguar and wonders.Only recently had she been attacked. That was her third kill. Something was going on, something she needed to know. Something dangerous.

~*~

Tell me what you think. Of the story style, pov, and imagery, mainly. Though anything else is welcomed. Well, waiting for reviews. ~~~~~~~ Katt