Nine Lives of an Urban Panther (24 page)

The panther was ready, willing, and fast. Thanks to the extra power infiltrating every cell, eased by the sheer hate that consumed me, I was on top of him in two seconds. I curled my claws into his new white shirt, still teeming with starch, and threw him as hard as I could against the brick wall.

It was more than appeasing to start his concussion count as well. “All that power and you still can't fly.”

He retaliated against that one with a ball of energy that caught me in the stomach and lifted me high into the rafters. After all the sessions in the barn with Iris jumping from rafter to rafter to test my surefootedness, I managed to bounce around in the rafters. But it didn't change the two-story fall all the way back to the ground.

Cats do actually land on their feet. But they need all four of them. I landed safely but the knife went clattering between us.

I eyed him and then the blade and went for it. He did too and we met in the middle, my hand on the handle and his hand on the blade. Letting my talons loose, I scratched at his face, my claws raking across his unshaven cheek, and jerked the knife away, the blade slicing a line into his palm.

I scurried back on all fours, and then jumped to my feet, ready for the next attack.

Spencer stood up and straightened his suit coat. In the dim light that filtered in from the night and the light of the Veil dancing around us, I watched his face heal. The four lines across his perfect cheek sealed back up until they were nothing but faint pink lines and then nothing.

That was new.

He just laughed. And then he started fighting.

I matched him kick for punch and tooth for claw. Sensei had taught me well. I was faster, but not stronger. Where I sliced a claw against his throat, he shoved me back six feet with an open hand.

I stumbled back a few feet. “You've had a teacher.”

“I ate a teacher.”

I rolled my eyes at his comment until I realized that no, he probably had actually eaten someone with talents and now had those talents. Crap.

What he didn't have was an ounce of his panther left, or if it was there, it was so buried underneath that nasty gooey center of evil that it couldn't get free.

He came at me again and I was able to defend myself, getting in a few nicks with the silver blade here and there, his skin sizzling under the silver. At least he was still Haverty enough for the blade to be a threat, because I sure as hell wasn't enough to make a dent.

I jumped to a rafter above his head and for a moment, I paused. Patience. Sensei had taught me: be patient and your opponent will show you their weakness.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair again and I knew that he was just about to straighten his jacket.

I leapt at him from above. If I could get him on the ground, I might be able to get this knife where it belonged.

My plan didn't work.

Spencer caught me, his hands grabbing my jacket and belt tightly, spun me, and threw me toward the stage.

I flew backward like something akin to a windmill, appendages flailing out in all directions as I tried to right myself, tried to catch onto something.

The thick red curtain caught me for a moment and I stabbed the knife through the material as I fell back down to the stage and rolled out from underneath the curtain and back into the main hall. It didn't exactly work like it did in the movies, but I didn't hit the floor as hard as I could have.

From my firmly planted seat on the ground, I looked up to see my people wiping the floors with the meat suits. There wasn't a Shade left in sight.

But the Veil was still open. Jessa hadn't managed to close it yet.

“Vi!” Jessa rushed to my side. “Is he . . . ?”

I waved her back as I pushed myself to my feet. “Not even close. And hot on my heels.

A blast of energy threw me into Jessa's small frame and we slid across the wooden stage until the wall stopped us. It got the attention of everyone in the hall.

“I'd almost forgotten about the little fairy princess,” Spencer said as he walked out from the red curtain and across the stage.

Jessa rolled me off of her and sat up. “I'll give you—”

I grabbed her shoulder and shook her before she said anything else that was going to get something else thrown at us.

Tucker, Tyler, and Nash lined up at the edge of the stage, blood-flecked faces sporting wounds that would heal before being given a second thought. I surged with pride as they stood against their former master.

“Boys.” Spencer casually hopped off the edge of the stage where my entire pack was waiting for him.

“Spencer,” Tucker growled.

“Mutts finally found a home, I see.”

They attacked together, even Shadow getting in on the action. But even together, they were no match for Spencer. They flew back and landed so hard on the floor that I felt the jarring of it in my spine.

There were lightning bolts and fangs and the fast flash of Valiance's blade.

I only saw Spencer stumble back once the whole time they all went after him.

“The Veil seems to be closing itself,” Jessa said from behind me.

“What?” I asked, still panting, taking a moment to use the Legacy to heal myself. The aches were slowly ebbing away; the blood in my mouth wasn't flowing.

“This place wasn't a natural rip. It was all spell work and the spell is fading.”

“We are fading. And if we can't beat him, we have to get him back through.”

I couldn't watch anymore. They were fine with the Shades and the ghouls, but Spencer was tossing them aside like oyster shells, seeming more full of himself with every attack.

It was Shadow's yelp as his claws skidded across the wooden floor that was my final straw.

Grabbing the knife from the stage, I went after Spencer again. I landed three solid punches to his midsection and a knee to his chin, and he still managed to send me sliding across the floor on my ass.

“Need the floor,” Chaz called out.

I got up again and looked over at Chaz. And he had something pretty.

I pulled my people back, like yanking on a leash to get them out of the way. Sensei blew the rest of my pack off the floor as Chaz took aim with his modified shot gun and launched a rocket at Spencer's chest. I covered my ears and looked away from the explosion.

In the silence after the blast, Spencer's laughter echoed in the empty space.

“Is that seriously all you've got?” He recovered from the edge of the stage and readjusted his suit jacket. The blast had burned a hole the size of a basketball into his shirt. Now, his flawless abdomen showed through without so much as a courtesy scratch. “I thought you'd prepared better than this, Violet.”

“I was counting on my stubbornness to win the day.”

I circled around with my back to the Veil, the soft pitter-patter of its energy dancing along my skin.

“Well, this little show has taught me something.” Spencer flicked at the torn edges of his white shirt.

“What's that?” I needed to keep Spencer talking. I knew he liked the sound of his own voice off the bare walls of the theater, but more importantly, I was beginning to feel the ache of my pack as they battled, only seven left on their feet. They needed a moment; I needed a better plan.

“You really do know how to throw a welcome back party.”

I predicted the attack this time. Like drawing a line in the sand, I forced my shield out before me and managed to lessen the force of his swirling dark energy ball. I skidded backward with the force until my foot hit the edge of the stage.

Spencer laughed out again. “That's what I love about you. Always changing, always finding new ways to use our power.”

I growled at his choice of pronouns. “My power.”

“When I kill you, it will be mine. You're just holding on to it for me. So let's speed things up again, shall we?”

I felt him draw on his power, like being on the outskirts of a black hole. We all stepped back as we watched darkness swirl around him. It solidified between blinks and another line of Shades swarmed the theater floor.

He could create Shades. That was full-on demon power. The knowledge didn't come from me, but from Nash's hazel eyes.

I pushed out as much of my energy to my pack as I could to make them ready for this; and with it, I pushed out the notion that he needed to get back into the Veil, and quickly.

I stabbed the knife through my belt and pants and the silver stung my skin. But I needed all four limbs free to shift. Maybe four sets of claws might do enough damage.

The Fang sisters shifted as well, leaving the men with the swords. Half fur and half fists, we were a little more productive. The girls went after Spencer with a viciousness fueled by protecting their family and ruining their Saturday date nights.

Spencer didn't fight animals as well as he did knives and swords. His flesh seemed nearly impenetrable to a blade, but my claws slashed into his skin.

His panther was ten times stronger than the girls' wolves but he still didn't shift. Instead he swung at us and tried to force us away with his power, but we kept at him.

As the men fought off the newest batch of Shades, the girls managed to get Spencer's back to the four-foot-high stage.

How do you make a man jump four feet? If we could just get him back through the Veil.

I went for his ankle and he wasn't fast enough. I actually sank my teeth into the muscle below his calf. Startled, I released him quickly. This guy had just deflected a rocket launch, but my panther teeth pierced his skin like a knife through butter.

Shifters were now his vulnerability. That was the price of the demon power.

I pushed the knowledge out to the rest of the group. Everyone who could shift did, and joined me.

Spencer leapt onto the stage. I may have bitten him, but he was still healing too fast for us to really slow him down.

The Veil danced behind him. Jessa scurried to the side of the stage and watched as my pack nipped and snapped and scratched at him.

He swatted Kandice's hawk like he was smacking a mosquito. She went limp and fell like a brick to the stage.

Charlotte leapt at him, taking the moment of distraction. Spencer caught her by the throat and the echo of the snap of her neck rang out like gunfire throughout the hall.

I felt the snap in my chest and fell to the floor in my human form. Like a tight piano string, her connection recoiled and I felt blood in my mouth and a stab through my chest.

A white-hot fury consumed me and the Legacy burned down my spine and boiled the lacquer of the wooden stage beneath my feet.

The rest of the pack knew something was wrong and they backed away from Spencer in fear and anticipation.

My eyes flicked to Jessa as I got into a sprinter's position. She knew it was Plan C time. She knew we weren't going to win this one on this side of the Veil.

As my muscles tensed, I sent out everything I had left to my pack. To Tucker beside me; to Nash as he nudged Kandice; to Tyler, who vocalized his hate in a deep growl. Even to Shadow, who was fighting as hard as any border collie could.

Somewhere in the Dallas night, Peter gasped, sitting forward on Devin's couch; Hannah's hand flew to her chest; and Remy hugged Twila harder. They were going to be fine.

My last thought went to Chaz. Chaz would understand because he knew me better than I did. He would have known that I had a Plan C as part of the big picture. He already knew that I was going to do something stupid, but he'd also know that I could not have another person die for me when so many psychics had already seen me dead.

The moment I pushed against my back foot, Spencer knew. His blue eyes widened and he braced himself.

I threw my panther power forward first, which caught him off guard, and then hit him with my shoulder to his midsection, which gave him just enough lift to get him off his feet.

The Veil welcomed us both with open borders. Like a ball being thrown through deep space, spinning and weightless, I tightened my grip on Spencer's jacket. Everything was bright and sharp and I just squeezed my eyes shut and waited to land.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

I
SLAMMED AGAINST
Spencer's chest and then rolled off him. The dagger tore into my hip and I pulled out the knife quickly and felt the familiar sizzle of the silver. Start off the fight of your life with a self-inflicted wound. Crap.

I had to force my eyes open and sucked in the air that had been knocked out of me.

We were in a field. The sun beat down hot against my pale skin. The green grass was familiar, as was the smell of the wind. Spencer had been here before. Spencer had killed two Biggers here. There was a pond in the middle where he'd tried to rip the Veil before.

I pushed myself up from the grass, wincing at the burning wound in my hip. It wasn't deep, just annoying.

I looked around. No sign of Spencer. He'd been right there.

With a small breath, I released my borders and staggered back. This place was amazing. Like a haven on crack. Everything pushed back at my power; everything had its own life. The earth, the grass, the wind itself.

Willowbourne's prayer made more sense than ever.
May the ground support your steps.
Because the ground might actually have an opinion on the matter.

I heard a moan on the wind.

Let's hope the ground was in my favor today.

Spencer's blond hair caught the breeze and betrayed his position in the high grass.

I was just about to make some snide comment to incite the fight again when I felt the pop of the Veil closing behind us. It echoed through me and so did the knowledge that my pack was now leaderless. My fiancé was now a widower. Jessa was going to have to scrap all those wedding plans.

My skin tightened as I realized I was alone. For the first time in four months, I didn't have any ties binding me to another person. For the first time in a year, I didn't have anyone to call for help. I felt empty and the emptiness pulled at me. How did people live like this? How had I lived like that all that time?

Iris's words seem to wrap around me.
You will always have the biggest sacrifice.
My family, my ties were the biggest sacrifice of all. Without them, I was just Violet.

Spencer pushed himself up from the grass. He ran his fingers through his long blond hair and then grabbed his shoulder.

“Really didn't see that one coming.” He pulled at his jacket.

I felt him call for his power and I tightened my Legacy around me like a blanket in the midday sun. “Just so I can get the rest of the story. You were supposed to be Jovan's little favorite, come before him, pave the way in chaos and blood?”

The blood drained from his face.

“You underestimate the power of our connection, Spencer. And the fact that I've written this time and time again.”

“That's right, your little movies.”

Anger sizzled down my back and I clenched my fist so tight around the blade that I lost feeling in my fingertips. “They are not little movies. And you know what happens over and over in those movies?”

“Bimbo runs up the stairs?”

My, wasn't he playful? Of course, this was where he had been living for the past six months. This was his home court. “No.”

“Someone says ‘I'll be right back.' ”

“Closer, but no.”

“Then what happens, my brilliant little sister?”

The earth warmed beneath my feet. “The good guys always win.”

Spencer slid his jacket off his broad shoulders, again wincing with the action. “And you think you're the good guy in this scenario?”

“I didn't kill a defenseless old lady today.”

“Defenseless, my ass. She was as guilty as the rest of them.”

I shifted as the ground beneath me seemed to vibrate, as if it too disliked his tone.

“She was weak and that's why my father took Dallas from her. Just like I'm going to take Dallas from you.”

“Dallas isn't mine to lose. It's the only good thing I've done there.”

“What? Make them play nice with each other?”

“I gave them a choice. Gave them the power instead of taking it from them.”

Spencer reached his hands out before him. “That kind of thinking doesn't work here.”

I guessed the time for playing was over when he shot a black cloud of power out at me that followed me around the field. I was faster here, my feet making contact with the ground and springing forward, like running on my high school's track-and-field track.

I dropped to the ground and his column of black power whooshed over my head as I stayed low in the grass.

I crawled carefully back in the direction I'd run. I could barely see Spencer's blond hair over the green grass. He couldn't see me.

But why couldn't he smell me? The wind seemed to carry his scent to me and I knew his heart was racing. I knew there was more blood on him than I could see. He looked around the field for me, but the breeze kept the grass tops dancing. The wind was at my back on this one.

“They need to be led, Violet. They need a steady hand to keep them in line.”

I was within ten feet of him now. I slipped the knife out of my belt.

“They are just animals after all.”

I leapt at him.

Unfortunately, he was faster here as well. He grabbed the hand with the knife pointed solidly at him and yanked me forward and off balance. He planted his other hand in my chest and the air leapt out of my lungs.

He slammed me down on the ground like I was a limp doll and the knife rolled out of my hand. His hand went for my throat. Why do they always go for the throat? The second thing that Sensei had taught me after how to flip someone over my hip was how to get out of someone trying to choke you out.

I jammed two fingers into his blue eyes. Sensei had showed me how to fight honorably and how to fight dirty. I had a natural propensity for the later.

Spencer's hand without the knife flew up and he covered his face. I hit him in the elbow and he fell forward, his nose somehow managing to connect rather roughly with the heel of my palm.

Blood sprayed out of his nose, causing him to let me go. I scurried away from him, wiping the blood from my palm onto my shirt. It blended well into the other splatters of blood and dirt that had collected on the green material.

We were just about to launch into another round of “who's got the knife” when the ground rumbled around us. It was at least an eight on the Richter scale.

I stayed on all fours and flinched with the crackle of power through the air around us.

Spencer knelt on one knee and waited, which told me who was paying us a visit.

Jovan wasn't what I expected. The goon squad behind him was what I expected, an amalgamation of every evil-looking thing that you could imagine. It was every single monster I'd ever written: a minotaur; a half man, half snake; and every scary thing I'd ever seen in my head. I would never doubt that I was born and bred into this world again.

But Jovan. I don't know why I had a vision of Darth Sidious, all withered and darkly clad, as the demon on the other side trying to take over the world. Guess I really had watched too many movies.

Jovan was a formidable sized man in a simple suit. Apparently evil had a propensity toward tailored wear. His dark hair was silvered at the temples, his goatee silver from the corners of his mouth down. But his eyes. His eyes were gray, like a storm cloud, and his power swirled around him, making the air around me dense, like a change in barometric pressure.

“Didn't expect to see you so soon, Spencer.” His voice crackled against the soft brush of the wind.

The horde of monsters behind him swarmed both me and Spencer, though they seemed to take more pleasure in handling me than him.

Slimy hands pulled me to my feet and something wound tightly around my legs. I didn't want to think about what it could be, but it really felt like a slimy tail. I held in a gasp as the slime began to seep into my jeans.

I was quiet. Chaz had taught me that my mouth got me into trouble. Right now was not the time to put my foot in my mouth. I had a feeling Jovan had a way of making that actually happen.

“And Miss Jordan. I
really
didn't expect to see you here.”

But I wouldn't be rude and not speak when spoken to. “I had to see what Spencer kept going on about.”

Jovan did something creepy. He smiled. Why is it always so creepy when they smile? “He was supposed to have killed you.”

“He's never been one for follow-through. You should know that.”

Jovan walked up to me and I could barely breathe through his power. He was suffocating me like I'd suffocated Inez. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and my mouth ran dry with fear—pure unadulterated fear. It had been a while since the two of us had met.

“What is so special about you, Miss Jordan? What makes you fight so hard? Spencer here is the best thing I've got, and yet, you're still alive.”

“He's got some flaws.”

I caught something on the wind, something wild and sharp. Jovan's eyes darted to the tree line.

He tugged at the sleeves of his suit. The tug told me volumes. Not how'd he gotten the Hilfiger duds on this side of the Veil, but that there was something in the woods that surrounded us he was uncomfortable with.

Jovan looked me square in the eyes and my eyes began to water, like looking straight into a dark sun. “I am very old, Miss Jordan. I don't fight anymore; I win. And I'm not going to win this one.”

Jovan took a step back. Jovan, the evil demon who was trying to take over the universe, backed away from me, his gaze darting from me to the trees surrounding the field.

“Though it will be interesting to see how this plays out.”

The slimy tail and the wandering hands that held me slipped away as the monster horde followed him from wherever he had come from.

I remained still.

Spencer went after him, and with a flick of Jovan's hand, Spencer was thrown across the field by an invisible force.

“Be seeing you around, Miss Jordan.”

Jovan was still walking away, a mist forming around him and his horde as he retreated. I had no idea what magic he was using to throw his voice. Or maybe he was just a ventriloquist in his former life.

Spencer ran at me from behind. Or more to the point: I
felt
him run at me from behind. His footsteps might as well have been a stampede of elephants, the way the vibrations ran through the ground and up my legs.

I ducked down and watched him fly comically over me.

He rolled, jumped to his feet and turned on me again. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Says the lap cat to the Mayor of Evil.”

“Why do you ruin everything?”

“Can you sound more juvenile?”

“I did everything he asked of me, and one look at you and all that work out the window.”

“It wasn't me.”

I looked to the tree line. There was something there. Something bigger.

Spencer's eyes followed mine. “Crap.”

Green eyes appeared first, just higher than my head in the trees. Then a tawny pair and then a silver pair.

Biggers. “Double crap,” I breathed.

The first one, a lion with a mane the size of a semi truck, broke the tree line at a slow pace.

“Finally, some justice in this place,” Spencer said.

I felt him draw on his power but I wrapped mine up and tucked it away, until it was nothing more than my panther. I'd killed one of these guys when Spencer jumped through the Veil the first time and in the dreams, Spencer killed two more of them. They were strong, fast, and twice the size of a Clydesdale. So yeah. Huge.

I knew them, sort of. If all those origin stories were true, then we were the same spirit. Except they were bigger on the outside, while I was furry on the inside. Where I lived on two legs, they chose to live on four.

I stood my ground and let the three approach. The lion's nose was higher than my forehead and the panther's paws were easily double the size of manhole covers. They smelled like wet fur and earth.

The wolf, a dark silver gray, stuck his nose into my bloody hip. I remained still, kept my ground, and kept my mouth shut. The moist muzzle went up my side and to my neck and then backed away.

“Why aren't you running?” the wolf asked as he slipped to the right of the lion.

“Why would I run?”

“Why do you smell like us?” the panther asked.

“Because I'm just like you. Just bigger on the inside.”

Their eyes turned to Spencer, whose dark power was beginning to swirl around him.

“He's not,” the lion said.

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

Then two of the Biggers went for Spencer. With his slashing power, he fought them off as they darted and chased him around the field.

The panther stayed with me. We watched the brawl patiently from the edge of the field, her large black head in my peripheral vision. The last time I'd faced down one of these, it was determined to make me a snack. I was hoping that this one wasn't as hungry.

“We want him dead,” she growled.

“So do I.”

“He has killed many of us.”

“He's killed my people too.”

“Then why aren't your teeth around his neck?”

“I talk a big game.”

“The time for talking is over.”

“But he's me. That could have been me.” When the words escaped my lips, I knew it was true. If I didn't have Iris. If I didn't have Chaz. We both needed someone. He just turned to a demon.

“No, daughter. He is not you.”

My hackles rose at hearing a panther call me daughter. I shivered when I realized that she was right. That could have been me, but I chose something else. Something bigger than myself to focus on.

“But he is your fight, not ours.”

An invisible call echoed across the fields, like a silent purr across my skin. The lion and wolf pulled away from their fight and ran toward the tree line, the forest enveloping them quietly.