Dare (11 page)

It was the last event of the night. I looked at my group. There were twenty-five people on this damn tour.

The park was dark. It was time to get started. “All right, everyone. Hope you enjoyed your day with our storytellers.”

Heads bobbed in agreement.

“I’m Zac Morgan, your tour guide for the next hour. We’re going to start here and make our way through the woods. Does everyone have a flashlight?” I had handed out my entire supply. “Good. Stay together. Don’t walk off the trail. Everyone ready?”

I waited for them to file in behind me. I hadn’t tried the walking backward thing, but it seemed like a good way to make sure everyone was keeping up.

“All right, so the reason you’re on this tour is to hear a little about the Ghost of the Forest, the famous she-panther who protects Sullen’s Grove. The legend is that she lives somewhere in these woods.”

The flashlights automatically started scanning the border of the trail.

“If you know anything about panthers, you know they are quiet. Territorial. They can climb trees.” The light beams instantly pointed overhead. I laughed.

“They also don’t like people. So, even though I know everyone is anxious to catch a glimpse of her, that’s not likely. Panthers keep to themselves. She doesn’t want this kind of attention.”

“My sister’s neighbor said she’s seen her,” a woman in the middle of the group called out.

“Is that so? Where?” I asked.

“Back here somewhere. It was during the day.”

I shook my head. “Panthers are more nocturnal creatures, but I guess you could see one during the day. It’s not likely though.” I sounded like a damn zookeeper.

I pivoted and walked a few more paces, taking us deeper into the woods. This was absurd.

“Can you tell us one of the stories about her?” a little boy, maybe eight years old, asked.

I halted. “I’m not from Sullen’s Grove, but I’ve heard a few.” That was a lie. I had heard enough to fill half the library. The only problem was none of them sounded like anything but fairytales.

I cleared my throat. “I think maybe this one is my favorite.” I tried to remember the details before launching into the story.

“So, one night. A very rainy, dark night, there was a group of kids. High school age. It was about this time of year and they were getting ready to graduate. There was an old Sullen’s Grove High School tradition that the seniors had to walk into the woods and carve their name on a tree. Each one had to go by him or herself and walk back out. No flashlights. No candles. Nothing.

“So these kids, the first group of seniors, were in the park, just like us tonight. They gathered and drew cards to see who would go first. Now, they all knew they had to make it all the way in and carve on the tree or the others would know. There was no backing out,” I continued with the story, ad-libbing parts that I couldn’t remember exactly.

“While the kids were running in and out of the woods, carving up the oak, there was a posse of robbers traveling through Sullen’s Grove. They thought the park would be empty late at night—a good place to hide out for a few hours to get some sleep. But when they pulled up and saw the kids, they came up with a far worse plan.”

Walking backward was getting easier. I could keep an eye on everyone this way. We were deeper in the woods now.

“Anyway, they attacked the students, thinking they could collect a ransom for kidnapping. They shoved them all in the back of the van. But from out of nowhere, she appeared. They said she rescued all the teenagers from the van, and put the kidnappers in the hospital with some pretty nasty scratches.” I smiled. It was a preposterous, ridiculous story. But maybe a good cautionary tale to keep more kids from vandalizing the park’s property. I made a mental note to research this story’s origin.

I should have seen it. Their eyes widening. The way they were stepping back, reaching out for each other, but I was wrapped up in the tale, the legend about the she-panther. Then I heard it. I didn’t need to hear it a second time to know exactly what was behind me. The rumble, the low-growl. It had been imbedded in my memory.

The crowd screamed and started running for the park. I watched as they scooped up children and tore past leaves and limbs. They never turned around.

I spun around. It was the same one. The same jaguar from the other night with dark spots. He snarled at me, baring long, sharp teeth.

I could still feel the pricks on my chest from where he had pierced the skin the last time we met. He scratched at the rocks and sniffed at my feet, his nose pressing against my knee, against my thigh. There was nowhere to run.

T
here were too many screams. I couldn’t track all of them at once. My ears rang with their panic. Bloodcurdling sirens, splitting through the air, desperate for help. I sprinted toward the park, hurtling myself faster to save them. The fear filled the air like thick humidity. My paws pounded through the leaves.

I skidded to a stop. “God, Noah. What are you doing?”

He snarled at Zac. Although, this time Zac didn’t look as panicked. He was studying Noah like a project. I’d seen that look on Noah before.

He wouldn’t answer me. He acted as if I hadn’t just caught him in Nox territory for the second time in three days. Before I could convince Noah he should regret his decision to return, he extended his claws and swiped at Zac’s leg, dragging the sharp ends deeply.

I lunged forward, striking him across the nose.

“What in the hell?” I growled at him.

Noah rubbed his paw into the dirt, dragging blood along its path. Zac rolled on the ground, holding his shin. There was a lot of blood.

“That was a message from Case.” He turned and strutted into the words, out of sight. He didn’t care I had split his nose, and he certainly didn’t care about what he had done to Zac.

I looked at Zac. His eyes widened with fear as I leaned over him. I nudged his hand until he let go of his leg so I could inspect it. He was hesitant to let me near the wound. The gash was deep. It would need stitches and strong bandaging. Knowing tears like these, it would leave a scar. I couldn’t help him like this. We were in the middle of the forest and I was a panther. He’d never make it walking on his own.

I wanted to reassure him somehow that I would help, but I didn’t communicate with humans as a panther. It wasn’t what I did.

I bowed my head slightly, and then sprinted into the forest, zigzagging around trees, looping over fallen trunks until I reached the lair. I dashed to my room, transforming as I raced through the tunnel. I stood on my hind legs, stretching toward the ceiling as my fur faded and my human skin emerged. I pulled on the clothes I had laid on the bed and headed back to where I had left Zac.

It took me longer to run as a girl, but I was still fast, quicker than most. I made sure to widen my route so that I could come up from behind him as if it were all complete coincidence.

He was where I had left him.

“Zac!” I ran toward him and dropped by his side.

“Hey, you should get out of here.” He scanned the bushes behind us. “It’s not safe. Go.”

“What happened to your leg?” I pulled the tank top over my head and wrapped it under his calf, tying it over his shin. There was blood everywhere.

He winced. “Man that hurts.” He grabbed at the bandage I had made and looked over. “You don’t need a shirt?”

“Sports bras have their advantages.” I didn’t know if he’d be able to stand. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?” I reached for my phone.

“No. Don’t do that.” His hand landed on mine.

“But you’re hurt. You’ve lost a lot of blood. What if you pass out?”

He pushed off the ground to stand. “Can you just help me to my car?”

I slung his arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, but I think you’re going to need stitches. You should see someone. Let me drive you to an urgent care or something.”

“I’ve got super glue at home.”

I stared at him. “This is not a broken plate. Something gashed you. What happened?” I almost let Noah’s name slip. I wondered if he had done something to provoke the jaguar. I doubted it. He was on tour tonight for the festival.

He limped next to me. “I just need to get home. I’ll tell you what happened. Can you drive?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

We both noticed the flashing lights as we got closer to the park. It looked like animal control and the police were talking.

“Do you know a way around this?” He pointed to the crowd gathered.

He didn’t need to know why, but I wasn’t interested in getting involved in any of that either. “Yes, we can cut through here. I know these trails really well.”

It wasn’t easy. Zac’s leg was useless, but he was strong and he didn’t mind that I helped him. We skirted the crowd and wound up on the street side of Oaks Park.

I shuttled him into the passenger side of his car and he tossed me his keys.

“You’ll have to tell me how to get to your house.”

His eyes closed. I could tell he was fighting the pain. “Go straight for a while. I need to get out of here.”

I followed his directions, taking turns as he pointed to street signs. A few times, I thought he had passed out, but then he would start steering me toward his house.

I pulled in the driveway of a small brick house. I helped him inside, planting him on the couch.

“Ok, where is your first aid kit?” I asked. I looked around his living room. It was dark, but sparsely decorated. There was a couch, chair, and a coffee table.

“Yeah, I don’t have one of those.”

Typical guy—no Band-Aids, not even a tube of antibacterial ointment. I thought about pouring a bottle of vodka over the wound, but I wasn’t sure he had that either.

“Ok, sit here. I’ll get some water boiled so we can clean it out. Where’s the super glue?”

“It’s on the workbench in my garage—through the kitchen.”

I opened the kitchen cabinets until I found a pot. He seemed to only have one of everything. I guess for a guy who moved around so much it was easier if the packing was light. I filled the pot with water and left it to boil while I dug through Zac’s workbench in the garage in search of the glue. This was idiotic. He needed medical attention. I was worried it would become infected.

I returned to the couch armed with a bowl of boiling water, a washcloth, and a tube of super glue. I would never make it through nursing school.