“Your diary in seventh grade wasn’t half as interesting as this one.”
He then pulled a moleskin diary out from his back pocket. “Some of the dreams match. I’ve dreamt about Seth and Jesse.”
“Who are Seth and Jesse?” I asked as I continued to look through my highlighted journal.
Waylon seemed to laugh. “You haven’t figured out that one yet?”
“I dream in stories, Waylon. My brain is programmed for script writing.”
“Seth and Jesse are your sons.”
I felt like he’d poured a cold glass of water down my back. “What?”
Waylon flipped through his book. At the beginning of his, he read out loud, “Seth saves Jesse from . . .”
“Stop,” I said. “I have kids? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know.”
“But I’ve dreamt of them. You’ve dreamt of them.”
I had to suck in a breath to shake the chill of the future from my shoulders. “I’ve dreamt of possible futures, Waylon. Snippets of things that might be. I don’t want . . .”
Waylon softened. “I get it. Not knowing is better than knowing, if it doesn’t happen.”
I nodded. “I’m good with the apocalyptic stuff though. Get to that.”
Waylon flipped to another page. “You’ve only dreamt of Khalida once? I’ve dreamt of her a million times. Each time she’s on a different side.”
I hadn’t written the Khalida dream down so I closed my eyes to see if I could find it again. “She wasn’t on Jovan’s side but still running Dallas.”
Waylon closed his book. “I’ve got a theory, but it’s a long shot, nowhere near the box.”
“Darling, I live outside the box. Shoot.”
Waylon licked his lips and hands out wide before him, said “You dream of a possible future based on the decisions you’re going to make.”
“Huh?”
“What happened right after the Khalida dream?”
I had to think, which was hard without coffee, so I turned around to finish making the neurological agents. “We had an incident with Jane and then . . .”
“What?”
“We decided that we needed to unify Dallas?”
“Holy cow, Violet? Seriously?” Waylon leaned against the refrigerator.
“Dream anything about me actually winning? That might be nice for once.” Finally the coffee started to brew. “How did you figure out this brilliant theory?”
Waylon beamed with pride. “Lexie actually. She had the idea after she read the one about her. Something about a pink prom dress.”
“How did she feel about knowing the future?”
“A possible future,” Waylon corrected. “And she didn’t like the pink dress. Which was how she figured out that it was all about the choice. If you hadn’t made the choice to let her in, she would have run away.”
“She’s my niece. There wasn’t a choice.”
“But there was. You could have just dropped her off and Lord knows that I would have preferred it that way, but you didn’t. You followed the impeccable gut of yours and you showed her your family and invited her in.”
The kitchen went silent as I let what Waylon was saying sink it. It’s also when I realized that the coffee had stopped percolating. I pulled down two mugs and poured the two cups. I poured in milk and sugar, stirred with the same spoon, and handed him a mug.
“The same with Khalida. You dreamt of a possible future where you didn’t exist.”
“No. A world where I existed and lost.”
Waylon just shrugged. “And then the decision was made to unify Dallas. Nullifying her taking over. I haven’t had a dream about her since. These are not coincidences. We both know that coincidences rarely exist when it comes to us.”
I gulped. “It’s not a coincidence that I’m in Dallas.”
Waylon hid his victory grin.
I gave him his story. “It was Jessa. And our foreseen connection that originally brought me here.”
“And now the pack keeps you here.”
I nodded. “And that whole fiancé thing.”
My phone began to ring again. I sighed and answered it. “Good morning, Peter. Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s done.” His voice was clear without the resentment and gravel it usually had.
I set the coffee down on the counter before I dropped it. “Seriously?”
“You said when you got back to Dallas. Nine tonight, at the coffee shop. Each head will bring a second and I will moderate.”
My stomach tightened. I’d thought I’d have a few more days to write all those speeches and maybe watch Braveheart for some inspiration.
“Oh and here’s the kicker. Valiance, the second of the vampires, confessed to breaking into your house, looking for the grimoire to break the marks. I told them that if they hadn’t tried to behead us, we might have shared the information sooner.”
Well, that was a nice little tie-up for loose ends. It boded well for the evening. “You are amazing, Peter Delmont.”
“A wolf is only as strong as his pack, Prima Jordan.” His words were serious but I could hear the smile on his lips.
“Have you told Bastian that he’ll need to close up early?”
“I left that honor for you.”
“Lovely. I’ll see you tonight then.”
Peter hung up and I set the phone back down.
I looked at Waylon and wondered if he already knew. So many questions ran around my head as to how he worked. “Guess I’m doing it all tonight.”
Waylon’s eyebrows jumped. “Tonight? Already?”
“Yep. I have one hell of a lawyer.”
Waylon frowned as he sipped his coffee. “How come I didn’t get a call?”
I frowned into my cup. “I asked for the heads.”
“I’m the head of the only psychic family in town.”
“We don’t know that.”
He shrugged at the details. “I’m still going.”
“Don’t make trouble for me, Waylon.”
Waylon set his mug down on the counter. “I’m serious about this. I have a vested interest in the survival of not only this city but of my cousin. I want to be there.”
I looked at him. Really looked at him. Would the others believe he was another head? Or would they see it as me stacking the deck? But he was the most powerful psychic in the city, since . . .
“Fine,” I said.
Waylon actually let out a woo-hoo.
“Isn’t it too early for woo-hoos?” Chaz asked from the kitchen door.
He nodded to Waylon and went to get himself a cup of coffee. He’d pulled on his pajama bottoms but hadn’t checked his hair in the mirror.
“Peter has set up the meeting of the heads,” I said.
“Boy works fast.”
“Man is very capable. Waylon has invited himself.”
Chaz leaned against the counter next to me. “I suppose it is your party. What time do we leave? I’ve got some errands I need to take care of today. Some things I need to move in.”
“I’m not sure there is a we.”
Waylon quietly put his coffee mug on the counter and slipped out of the kitchen.
That gorgeous furrow appeared between Chaz’s eyes. “Violet?”
“I’m not sure how it’s going to look with me coming in all posse’d up.”
He shrugged. “Then I won’t go in as your posse.”
“I’m pretty sure they know we’re together.”
“I’ll go as the only Guardian left in the city. If you want all the species represented, I’m going.”
I sighed.
Waylon stuck his head in the kitchen door. “He’s got a point. He is the only identified Guardian in the city.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not letting you two bully me. Family or not.”
“I’m not. I’m protecting my interests in Dallas.” Chaz repeated exactly what Waylon had just said.
My gaze darted to Waylon. “You
two planned this.”
“No, but I might have known what he was going to say.” Waylon winked.
“You’re an ass.” I pointed at Waylon. “And you”—I turned to Chaz—“I suppose that you’re going to throw that whole you’ve-been-sent-by-the-Mother-to-protect-me, so by the gods you’re going to protect me.”
“No. I’m just going to pretty up the place.” He smiled and leaned over to kiss my forehead.
“Waylon, go mess up someone else’s morning.”
Waylon disappeared from the kitchen doorway. “See you later, fearless leader.”
I waited to hear the front door close to speak again.
“What did he want this early?”
I hopped up on the counter and pulled the pancake mix from the cabinet and handed it to Chaz. He smiled and took it. As he was getting out the supplies to make breakfast, I filled him in on Lexie’s insight that not only was I connected to Dallas, but that I was dreaming in futures based on my decisions.
Chaz stopped. “So you were right about dreaming of possible Dallas futures.”
“I was half right. I would have never thought that they were the futures of the choices that I was about to make.”
“It does seem a little twisted,” Chaz said as he began to flip the pancakes. “But it’s not the worst that’s been thrown at you, Vi. You’ll overcome this task, just like you’ve overcome all the others.”
“But not without help.”
Chaz just shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve taken on everything that the Mother has thrown at you. These heads are going to be no problem.”
He flipped two fresh pancakes onto a plate and handed it to me. I slid off the counter and went to sit at the kitchen bistro set.
He joined me with two more pancakes. The sun danced in his golden highlights and made his eyelashes even longer and darker. “Why are you looking at me?” he asked, mouth full of pancake.
“Did you really believe eight months ago, you’d still be making me pancakes?”
He finished chewing. “I knew that I’d be making you pancakes for the rest of our lives.”
“Awww.” I smiled.
“WHAT SHOULD I wear?” I asked Jessa. “What says I’m likeable but I could totally kick your ass if I needed to?”
“Boots and ruffles,” Jessa said as she sat down on my bed.
“Ruffles? Do I even have ruffles?” I started to shuffle through my closet. My eyes had started to hurt from the marathon of political movies I’d been fast-forwarding through. The only thing I learned was that it took great speeches and war paint to win the day. And I was fresh out of both.
“You have the green top we bought last fall.”
I turned toward her. “Do you have a complete catalogue of my entire wardrobe?”
“And?” she asked. “You remember every book and movie. I remember shopping trips.”
“Touché,” I answered as I turned back to the closet.
Bastian had been particularly compliant when I’d asked him to close up shop a bit early tonight. I promised I’d leave the place as I found it if he promised to leave an iced mocha in the fridge for me.
“So what is the plan?”
I found the top that Jessa was talking about. It was this green gauzy thing, but it had her ruffle criteria, and if she knew nothing else about the universe, Jessa knew how to look the part. If she said ruffles, ruffles it was.
I grabbed a tank top from my dresser and started getting changed. “Plan A. Tell them everything. What we know about the Neveranth, Spencer, Jovan. Jeez, Jessa. They didn’t even know how to kill a Shade.”
“And plan B? When the others are completely happy being on their own?”
“Then they can be on their own as I go after Spencer.”
“Go after Spencer? That’s not a Plan B, that’s a Plan Dead.”
“No. It’s a Plan B. If the other heads don’t want to join forces, then we are going after Spencer, just the pack. If we can’t unify Dallas, we can defend it.”
Jessa slipped off the bed and to her feet. Maybe this was the one thing that she had gotten from me, needed to deal with things on her feet. “That’s a pretty big Plan B.”
I zipped up my jeans and grabbed the green top. “He’s getting stronger, Jessa. Every day. But I’m getting stronger, too. One of these days, it’s going to happen. And I want it to be on my terms.”
“And how exactly were you going to go after him?”
“With your magic, Nash’s spells, and a really, really big sword.”
Jessa’s hands clenched at her sides. “And you just assumed that I would go along with this.”
“No. I assumed you would tell me no.”
“Then why did you say my magic?”
“Because it’s better than my Plan C.”
I walked over to the door and shut it. Goose bumps traveled down my arms but it was Jessa’s fear that put them there. I sat down on the bed and looked up at her. “Plan C is you send me across and I do it myself.”
My stomach tightened as her energy spiked out and her lips parted. “Violet, no, I mean . . .”
“Try to tell me that you never thought it was going to be Panther Thunderdome.”
Jessa shook her head. “No. He’s on the other side. He can’t get out of there.”
“Like that snake thing couldn’t get out of there, like the holes aren’t all over the place. The Veil isn’t strong enough and it’s not your fault. The Veil is weak because Dallas is weak.”
I reached out and took her hand. I opened my borders and let my magnolia-scented power surround her. “I’m not saying this happens today. I’m still all for Plan A. We go full United Nations of Wanderers and it strengthens the Veil and Plan B and C are moot points.”
Jessa licked her lips.
“I’m guessing your silence is more than acquiescence.”
“You’re talking about Dallas like it’s a living thing. It’s a little crazy.”
I swallowed. “Well, I’m connected to it. We both are. Doesn’t it make sense? You’re called to Dallas. I get attacked here and end up finding this insane calling where I’m dreaming about Dallas constantly.”
“Is that the new dream set? First, fairy tales about princesses and now you’re dreaming of I–35?”
I smiled. Jokes were good. Jokes meant she was still on the Violet wavelength.
Jessa looked down at my bedspread. Her hand was still in mine. And then she made a choice. I felt it stir in the air between us, tighten the silver bonds that held us together as Key Holder and Guardian.
Her lavender eyes landed on mine. “I will be the perfect fairy princess to convince these heads they need to unify because I am not dragging your ass out of the Neveranth.”
I smiled all the way down to my toes. I jumped up and wrapped my arms around her. She squeezed back.
“And then you can get to planning that wedding.” I let her go and looked down at her. “I want to do it in August.”
“Finally, a date I can work with. Is there any way I can talk you out of that barn idea?”
“Nope. The barn stays.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I COULDN’T STOP moving. I’d rearranged the tables in the coffee shop into a neat circle with two chairs at every table. I’d put out brownies on white porcelain plates with the cloth napkins that Bastian kept under the counter for special occasions. I’d even put out little glasses of water on the tables. Isn’t that how the UN meetings I’d watched on CNN were set up? Little glasses of water?
“I didn’t know she organizes when she’s nervous,” Tucker whispered to Chaz.
“Neither did I.”
I turned to glare at the both of them. “Everything has to be perfect.”
“Trust me. This is fine.”
I jumped when the bells of the front door announced the first visitors. Jessa and Kurt swept through the front door but stopped as they looked around at the empty room.
Jessa sighed. “I wanted to make an entrance.”
Kurt the Cleaner walked over to me in his perfectly cut suit and gave me two air kisses. “How are you, darling?” he asked.
“Lovely. You?”
“I’m always perfect.” His eyes flicked over to the boys behind me. “Is this Stalker Boy?”
I smiled. It had been a while since I’d heard Chaz’s other moniker. “Let me introduce you.”
My stomach churned when I looked around the room. Though I knew everyone in the circle, it was still an impressive bunch. Inez brought my sensei as her second and I bowed respectfully to him before he gave me grief for not visiting the dojo.
I laughed. “I’ve been getting in my practice, but I’ll try to get back to my regular schedule.”
They took a seat and I watched carefully as my sensei greeted Chaz with almost the same respect that he greeted me. With our recent foray into Chaz’s past, I wondered if Chaz knew that Sensei was one of the people Seth freed from Jovan’s hold, if he could see the ripple effect of his father’s actions like I could.
Willowbourne floated in, her green cape fluttering around her, and Twila peeked out from behind her.
“Prima Jordan. It is good to see you again,” she said with a deep sweeping bow.
I had to squeeze my nails into my palm to keep from laughing as I watched Twila’s eye roll behind her.
“Mom, you’re good. Can we sit down?”
Willowbourne nodded and headed for one of the other tables. I stopped Twila with a brief touch on the shoulder. “That’s your mother?”
“Unfortunately.”
The reason the Willowbourne came to our rescue so easily became crystal clear. She did it for Twila. Because if anything happened to Remy, her daughter would be destroyed. What wouldn’t a mother do for her daughter?
My slightly morbid thoughts were distracted by a sudden chill in the room. The two vampires looked like pale statues in the moonlit doorway.
“Good to see you again, Valiance. Please come in.”
His light blue eyes stayed on mine as he walked toward me. “Prima. I’d like to introduce you to our new Clade Seat, Andrin.”
Andrin swept my hand and brushed his cool lips against my knuckles. I didn’t flinch, because I had the distinct feeling this was their brushing, their test of character. So I brushed him back and he felt like a wall of ice before me.
Nine Lives of an Urban Panther Page 24