Diaries of an Urban Panther

by Amanda Arista

  Chaz moved away to close the door and a wave of nausea hit me again that curled me up into a quivering mass on the mattress.

  “Hey, there,” he said as he closed the door. “I’m coming back.”

  He slipped his boots off and then his button up. And then his under shirt.

  I rolled to my back to watch him walk around the foot of the bed and lift up the edge of the covers. He slid into bed next to me.

  “What if . . .” I whispered.

  “Shh.” He pulled me closed to him.

  I felt his hot skin against my back, his strong arm curled under my head as he leaned me against him. His breath trickled down my neck as he bent his legs to fit against mine.

  I was still shaking from the last wave of whatever it was.

  “Come on now. Breathe.”

  At his provocation, I took in a deep, shuttering breath. There wasn’t any pain, no vice around my chest.

  “There now,” he whispered. His fingers began to unfasten the buttons at the back of my neck that kept my dress up.

  I didn’t protest as he slid the satin down and pushed it past my hips.

  Chaz adjusted our position. I rested on my stomach, one arm under my head and one at my side. With his forefinger, he drew a long line down my spine.

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  Finally relaxed, finally feeling safe, the events of the evening rushed back into my conscious mind. My chin began to quiver and tears ran freely down my face. “Everything hurts,” I whispered.

  “Just don’t think,” he said softly, as he began to stroke the space between my shoulders. “Just sleep . . .”

  I closed my eyes and took another shaky breath. I felt his chest rise and fall against my side. I felt his jeaned leg as he bent his knee slightly to cover the back of mine, felt his socked foot tuck under my ankle. His fingers traced shapes along my spine, up my neck.

  He leaned forward and kissed the back of my neck before he pulled me to him tightly and nestled his nose into my hair.

  I took in one last smooth breath. Exhausted but safe, the world melted away.

  The sun was warm and blinding as it streamed in my bedroom window. I shifted to pull the covers over my head as I rolled away from the perky morning and straight into a body.

  Startled, I sat up quickly. My body protested violently and I fell back onto the pillows. My head began to throb at the sudden movement. As I lay there, parts of me quivering and everything sore, I wondered if this is what being dragged through a knot hole backwards really felt like.

  “Hey,” Chaz yawned as he rubbed his eyes and looked over at me.

  “Morning,” I frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned up on an elbow.

  “I need drugs.”

  He nodded. “I can arrange that.”

  I stared at the ceiling. I took a long hard inventory. Ten human toes. Ten human fingers. Two long legs, two arms, one belly button. All very naked underneath this thin white sheet. I tested my boundaries and even my paper thin protections were eerily fine. Dare I say stronger?

  “Everything okay?”

  “I think so.”

  He smiled, and looked like he wanted to say something, but his eyes flicked to the corner of the bed and his smile faded quickly. He moved suddenly, jostling me roughly, and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. I tensed for a moment in pain, which just brought out the immense soreness in every muscle in my body. I held my breath until it stopped. It was a long breath.

  “I need to get home,” he said quickly, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “Check on Jessa.”

  My whole body chilled at not having his warmth so near. I was startled at his back suddenly dropped to the farthest edge of the bed to put on his boots. I pushed myself to a sitting position and held the covers to my chest.

  Standing, he pulled his flannel shirt back on and then checked his jean pocket for his wallet.

  I watched him walk out of my bedroom. Like a scene in one of my movies, I rewound it in my head back to the part where I had woken up and realized that I hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no foot-in-mouth scene. I was actually not in the wrong here.

  Which lit a fire under me so quickly, I barely had time to rip the sheet off the bed and stumbled after him down the stairs where he was grabbing his keys from the foyer table.

  “What the hell, Chaz?” I said resting exhausted against the door frame, blocking his exit.

  “Violet, don’t play games,” he scolded, taking a step forward as if I would move.

  I didn’t even flinch. “Not until you tell me where the fire is?”

  The little furrow between his brow appeared and he clenched his jaw. He radiated danger but I didn’t budge. He huffed and stared down at me.

  “Why are you running?” I repeated in a very civil tone.

  “I have things to do.”

  “At eight in the morning. On a Saturday. Without your socks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So it doesn’t have anything to do with your father being killed by a panther?”

  He didn’t answer but a dangerous glint flashed golden in his eye. He probably never would have imagined that I would bring it up at a time like this.

  “Why did you kiss me last night, Chaz?”

  He looked away from me and glared into the living room. “Iris said you needed to be grounded,” he said through clenched teeth. “I got caught up. Now let me go.”

  Chaz grabbed my arm and lifted me out of the way of the door, turning the handle with the other one.

  He strode down the front sidewalk, passing Jessa as he ran away. Jessa scurried out of his way, her hands filled with a bag labeled doughnuts and carrier with three coffees.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked confused as she joined me on the porch.

  I was standing, feeling lost, wrapped in a sheet as the man who had just saved my life gunned his engine and slammed on the gas, tires screeching down the quiet street.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jessa threw her arms around my neck and began to chant. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  And I couldn’t keep it in. I don’t know what happened to me. It just all fell out of my head and down into my mouth. I told her about the first night that Chaz and I met, when I was attacked in the alleyway and when I went to Iris’s for a week to learn about being a were-panther and how he was great there and supportive and brought me Starbucks and how we had survived an attack by a gang of mongrels. And how her boyfriend had poisoned me at the club and Chaz had taken care of me and he had kissed me, really kissed me. And how I had woken up with Chaz, and everything was perfect and he looked so good in the morning light and he had bolted just like that, without any explanation. And now I felt so alone in all this.

  I looked up, suddenly exhausted, my mouth dry after the verbal diarrhea, my eyes red and a little blurry. Expecting some sort of horrified look.

  Instead, I saw wide brown eyes with a look of understanding, a faint smile on her lips as her head shook slightly.

  “But you’re not alone, Violet,” was all she said afterwards.

  “What?”

  “Granted, I couldn’t tell that you and Chaz were dating,” she said as she twisted a strand of hair that had fallen in my face. “But you’ll never be alone in this, Violet.”

  A disbelieving laugh choked out. I was caught somewhere between disbelief and delirium. “You knew. The whole time, didn’t you,” I asked disbelieving.

  Jessa nodded. “I also know you’ve been sent to protect me.”

  “Why not talk to me for two weeks if you knew the risks?”

  Jessa sighed. “I figured that if I ignored what happened to you, I could ignore this huge responsibility that I have. Got some heavy stuff dumped on me about two weeks ago, didn’t want to deal with it.”

  That was right before the fight. Right before LA and right before everything hit the fan. The situation echoed with a familiar twang, like a bad country song. I sniffed
and wiped my face. “Why do you need to be protected?”

  Jessa sighed and a little furrow formed between her perfect brows. “Why don’t you go, take a shower, put on something a little more than just a sheet, and we’ll talk?”

  “When’d you get all mentor-y?”

  Jessa swatted my arm and pointed up the stairs.

  Halfway up the stairs, Jessa called out after me. “So Haydn’s a bad guy?”

  I turned around and went back down the stairs, leaning against the railing. “His name is Spencer. He’s the one who attacked me in the back alley.”

  Jessa’s hand clenched into hard tight fists. “That bastard. I’m going to kill him.”

  “Get in line.”

  Without the weight of impending doom hanging over my head for at least a few minutes, I slowly went up the stairs. Shower first. Mysteries about the universe later. We must have a plan and this time I was pretty sure it didn’t involve swapping zip codes.

  I turned into my bedroom to shower but froze at the door. All was not right with the world.

  I’d taken the white flat sheet with me but not the fitted sheet. The fitted sheet was hanging onto the corner of my bed by threads. All but the top corner. The top corner lay in shreds. As if a large cat had been using it as a kneading pad.

  That’s what Chaz saw.

  That’s why he ran.

  He’d been in bed with a panther.

  Weak-kneed, I fell back against the door frame and the second wave of many tears began to fall.

  Jessa was standing in the middle of the living room when I came downstairs, showered and dressed with one thing crossed off the “How to save the world” checklist forming in my head.

  “Your house is a wreck,” she said, with her hands on her hips.

  “Spencer and his mutts tossed the place.” I pick up a re-stuffed pillow from the blanket covered couch only to see its insides being kept in with a strip of silver duct tape. It was a manly touch that made my stomach turn over a little. “Haven’t had a chance to reorganize.”

  A little crease formed between her brows. “Didn’t Chaz tell you to call the cleaners?”

  A sharp quick pain ran across my heart and I immediately headed for the kitchen. Hadn’t she brought a carrier of coffee this morning? I needed coffee and quick.

  “Sorry, I said the C word.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” By the way, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, I knew I wasn’t fine.

  “You’re not, but I’m not going to push. We’ve got bigger things to talk about.” She handed me the coffee she had brought in from the carrier, sitting on the counter next to me. It was a caramel macchiato.

  I looked up at her and again had the feeling that I had overlooked so much in the last two years. “Like what?”

  “Well, you and Stalker boy had a moment last night, but so did we, and I need to explain what happened.”

  “That sounds a little L word.” As the smell of the coffee filled the room, my brain cleared out from the emotional swamp I was currently wading through. “The smell of roses. I smelled roses and rain last night.”

  Jessa nodded. “You’re going to need a cup of coffee for this. And then maybe a stiff drink.”

  We sat next to each other on the couch amidst the ruins of my town house. The poof of air that came up from the unstuffed couch still smelled like dogs and Chaz. It was a stomach-churning smell that didn’t faze Jessa.

  “While we are in confessional mode, get it out on the table mode, first I need to tell you why we are in Dallas.”

  I frowned. I’d replayed nearly every scene of our friendship in my head since I knew what she really was, but I couldn’t fathom that the conspiracy went back that far. “You suggested that we meet in the middle to start a new life. Try our hand in another zip code that I could afford.”

  Jessa leaned forward on her elbows. “I was sent here by my family. Haverty was getting too powerful and they needed someone to watch over the Veil. And then Kyle happened and it was perfect. I had no idea any of this would happen.”

  I chuckled. “And here I thought it was just being an awesome friend.”

  “You were the amazing one. I only said yes, because I knew that you would be here with me, be my rock against this crazy calling. Ready for the rest?”

  I nodded, slowly. I was sinking in, slowly.

  “Remember when I went to the Hamptons for the weekend?”

  I sipped my coffee.

  “And remember that huge fight that we had?”

  “Not exactly forgetting that any time soon. And neither is my turtle collection.”

  Jessa rubbed her arms, little goose bumps forming on them. “They aren’t entirely unrelated. My mother laid some news on me and most of it had to do with you.”

  “Me?”

  Jessa nodded and pulled a blanket from the edge of the couch. It revealed the torn insides of what once was the prettiest couch I’d seen at IKEA. “How much do you know about what’s happen to you?”

  “Just what the books told me. Been through Shapeshifter 101.”

  “So you know about the Veil?” her hands had begun to shake and she set the coffee on floor by her feet.

  “Nothing really specific. It sounds like a thin barrier that keeps the beasties in another dimension.”

  Jessa nodded. “Exactly. After the First War of the Wanderers, the Powers set up a corner dimension where the prisoners of war were put, those deemed too powerful for their own good. But as time goes on, it gets thinner. Easier to poke through.” she licked her lips and took in a deep breath. “Our magic isn’t what it used to be.”

  “So your family are wardens?”

  Her dark brows knitted together. With a deep breath, she looked me the square in the eyes and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating when I saw a flash of lavender cross her irises. “I’m the new key to the Neveranth dimension.”

  “What? How?” I wasn’t freaking. This wasn’t me freaking. Freaking would be me storming off and throwing my coffee in all directions. Coffee strongly in hand, I was as cool as an iceberg.

  “One person in each generation of my family holds the key. It’s not an actual key, though we like everyone to think it is. We’ve got physical objects hidden all over the world so that the bad guys think they are looking for something, not someone.” Jessa reached out and took my hand. I was unprepared for the sudden show of intimacy. Jessa didn’t touch, didn’t hug. It wasn’t a Jessa thing to do. “You have to understand I was terrified you were going to shift. I still don’t know exactly what happened, but I opened up to you. I was trying to make you calm down, at least, that’s what it does to men. But with you, it bonded us together.”

  “As what? Exactly.”

  “As a Key holder and its Guardian.”

  “What?!”

  “It means that the universe knows that we are strong enough together to protect the Veil. We are like a two-part key. Which means that only our blood can open a portal.”

  Jessa squeezed my hand and I suddenly felt much better, like the world wasn’t crumbling down. It made me pull my arm back quickly. It was magic. I knew just enough to know it when it was used on me.

  “Pretty strong stuff you’ve got there,” I said on edge now.

  “And if you were sent to protect me, then you’re not a weakling either.”

  I just shook my head and looked down at my hands in my lap. “Power, yes. Not so much on the control part.”

  “It’s what my mother warned me about. It’s an old story that she tried to tell me about key holders and guardians. But I was too naive to take it seriously. You were Violet. Funny writer Violet. You couldn’t be a Guardian. People are born as guardians.”

  “You’re about as surprised as I was. ‘And will protect crown and Veil from her dark reflection.’ Which means that I get to protect you from Spencer Haverty,” I sighed and leaned back on the couch as Jessa sat with her mouth agape. “My mother told me a story and I think I have inkling about what will happen if the
portals are opened. Guess that means we just jumped up the mystical food chain about six steps.”

  Jessa’s eyes went a little glassy as she stared at my fireplace. “My mother was right to warn me about you. I just thought she was being overprotective.”

  “I’ve heard that mothers can be that way.”

  A sharp knock at the door made both of us jump off the couch.

  Without the spidey sense alarm, I tip-toed over to the door and looked out the peep hole. Nothing seemed out of place about the four men who stood outside. But they smelled funny, like aloe and Burberry’s Beat.

  “Who it is?” Jessa whispered, suddenly just behind me, holding my arm as she tried to look over my shoulder.

  “Don’t know. One of them has a lamp shade.”

  Jessa squealed and bumped me away from the door with a sharp hip check and threw open the door. “Kurt.”

  “Princess,” the man squealed back.

  A parade of four men, all looking like something out of a fashion magazine, went through my living room and settled into the corners. These were Jessa people; there was an excited energy about them and all their suits were tailored sharp enough to cut firewood.

  “Someone’s got some ’splaining to do.” I looked at Jessa who was smiling.

  “Violet, meet the Cleaners. Cleaners, meet Violet, your project for the day.”

  The one she had called Kurt looked at me head to toe with a sharply arched blonde eyebrow, his lips pursed.

  “It’s just the house. I’m going to take care of her.”

  “Oh, thank god. I was just about to say I’m a Cleaner, not a miracle worker.”

  The foursome laughed simultaneously and stopped just as in synch. It was creepy. Their perfection was creepy. And then it struck me. Glamour. Can’t fairies do glamour?

  Jessa turned to me, which was good because the arch in my eyebrow was beginning to ache. “These are the Cleaners. They get called in after a disaster, like your break-in. They are going to clean the place, clear the space of any negative vibes, and then set up defenses so it doesn’t happen again. They are also the ones who decorated my place and put the ward up there.”