He felt the changes, subtle at first, in his body. The thickening and lengthening of his muscles, the feeling of jumping through the air. And then there was the padding on his hands and feet, as though cushions had appeared. Jolt fought against it viciously. He couldn't transform now. Not before he'd had the chance to tell her. He should have told Julia sooner. Now it was too late and he was in danger of gashing the succulent flesh that he had just savored. His neck began to throb and he dropped to the floor. It was starting. He had to get away before he attacked her.
That was his last thought before he blacked out.