I whipped up another entry for that Shapeshifter short story competition and thought I'd share it.

...

It was late, too late for her to be walking home alone. Leila knew that, but the party had been a good one; full of wine, laughter and such pretty, pretty boys she’d hated to leave. She smiled to herself and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cell phone. Her pace slowed as she stared down at the display, her smile growing nearly feral as she read the name and number one young hopeful had brazenly entered into her phone as she’d been donning her coat to leave. She put the phone away and laughed aloud, the lilting notes of her voice carrying down the empty street and into the darkness beyond. She shook out her dark hair and started walking again, high heels marking out the rhythm of her strides, only a little unsteady from the wine she’d imbibed.

She went another block before she sensed she wasn’t alone, and another again before she was certain she being followed. Leila scolded herself beneath her breath for having drunk so much she had nearly missed the signs. “Walking around in the middle of the night too snockered to even notice you’re being followed, very smart.” A quick glance at the nearest street sign told her she was still too far away from home to make a run for it, especially in high heels, so instead she fished a container of pepper spray out of her purse and flicked the safety lock off. Feeling slightly safer Leila slowed her pace, letting her newfound sense of fear tamp down on the buzz she’d been enjoying. The sound of footsteps behind her grew closer, quicker. She screwed up her courage and glanced back over her shoulder for the first time to get a look at her shadow, and then burst out laughing. “Oh for god sake, it’s only you!” She stopped and turned to face the man coming down the street. “And here I was preparing to run from some axe murderer or something.” Approaching her was the young hopeful who’d programmed his number into her phone not half an hour ago, his long legs eating up the distance between them.

“I watched you leave and realized you were walking alone. Don’t you know how unsafe that is?” He joined her on the sidewalk and gave her a sheepish grin. “I thought I’d keep an eye on you, make sure you got home alright.”

“And here I thought chivalry was dead.” She quipped. “That was very sweet of you, though you lose several points for scaring me half to death in the process.” Leila opened her hand to reveal the canister of pepper spray. “I was going to call you tomorrow and see if you were up for an outing, but since you’re here…” She trailed off and dropped the pepper spray into a pocket before sliding her arm around his waist. “Would you care to walk me home Peter?”

“You remembered my name.” He looked pleased as he slid an arm around her shoulders and began walking them in the direction she’d been headed in before.

“Of course I did, it’s not often I have handsome young men give me their phone numbers. Besides, I like your name. It’s part of my favourite story, Peter and the Wolf.”

“You like wolves then?” He asked as they walked. His dark eyes oddly predatory as he glanced over at her.

Leila had to tip her head up to meet his gaze. “You know us girls love the bad boys, and I suppose that applies to big bad wolves as well.”

“Do you?” Peter’s voice lowered slightly as he turned to glance at her. “Do you like bad boys?” His eyes seemed to bore into hers as he awaited her answer.

Leila blushed a glorious shade of crimson and grinned. “I like boys Peter; good, bad, I’m like them all. I just enjoy the company of younger men; you’re all so much more interesting than the men my age.”

“I’m older than I look.” His tone was close to a rumbling growl as he tightened the arm around her shoulders, his interest evident in his gaze.

She leaned into his embrace and ran her cheek over his jaw, inhaling softly. “You don’t smell old, you smell like youth, still tender and fresh.” She inhaled again before moving back to meet his gaze. “Old men smell of stale dreams and bad cologne.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes as he stared down at her, followed by a flash of regret that flared and was gone in less than a heartbeat. “We should get you home, it’s very late.” His gaze flicked upward to the night sky. “Even the moon has set, it’s got to be almost morning.”

“Do you always tell time by the moon?” She asked, a faint pout on her lips as he distanced himself from her.

Peter shrugged as he guided her forward. “Odd habit I guess, but my family are all hunters, we got taught young to pay attention to things like that.”

“Hunters? This is the city Peter, what is there to hunt here?” There was a laughing note in Leila’s voice as she questioned him. “I mean besides women walking home from parties alone, late at night.”

“You’d be surprised what you can find to hunt in the cities.” His grip tightened again and Leila found herself spun around as Peter turned and hauled her into an alley, beyond the reach of the sickly orange glow of the street lights.

“Peter?” Leila’s voice was edged with fear and she struggled to get herself free of his grip. “Peter, what is this? What are you doing?”

“Hunting.” He snarled at her and shoved her away from him. “Dad said I wasn’t ready to hunt alone, but he was wrong.”

“Peter please don’t do this. I liked you.” She panted now, her eyes wide and wild. “Just let me go, we can forget this ever happened.”

“You’re not leaving lovely Leila. But if it’s any consolation, you’re going to be my first solo kill. You know they say you never forget your first time, so I’ll never forget you.” He stepped into the middle of the alley, blocking her way back to the street. A metallic slither of sound filled the dank night air, and Peter drew a blade that gleamed coldly even in the darkness. The blade whirled and he slashed out at her as she stared, dumbfounded at his actions. At the last moment she ducked away, the blade barely nicking her skin and making her cry out with shock.

“It’s forged of silver Leila, and the moon is down. You know you can’t win.” He taunted her.

“Oh you foolish, foolish boy.” Leila’s eyes gleamed oddly now, reflecting light much like the blade he held in his hands. “Your father was right; you’re not ready to hunt alone. You think I’m a werewolf.”

“I don’t think, I know. I knew there was one in this territory; I’ve been tracking you down for weeks. Who else but a she-wolf would walk home alone at this time of night? No human woman would ever take such a risk.” He hefted the blade and took a step closer. “I wasn’t sure until you sniffed me though, like a bitch in heat.” He shuddered, revulsion twisting his features. “You can’t change forms now; the moon is down, so why don’t we get this over with.”

“Such a pity.” Leila sighed as she dropped into a fighting crouch. “Now I’m going to have to kill you, and I had such plans for us. A lesson for you before the end sweet Peter; wolves aren’t the only predators that walk in your world.” Her hands hooked into claws and she growled; a low, threatening sound. Her features seemed to shimmer and distort as she prowled through the shadows of the alley. “Cats hunt too, and we don’t care about the moon, or your precious silver weapons.”

She pounced then, and within minutes Peter lay on the ground, his life pouring out of his torn throat and staining the tainted street of the alley. Leila stood over him, licking her fingers clean of blood as her voice dropped to throaty purr. “Haven’t you ever wondered why they call older women cougars?”