Diaries of an Urban Panther (27 page)

“It was you!” I gasped. “You and your mutts have been stalking me.”

He smiled and, for the briefest moment, I glimpsed the malevolence behind the perfectly crafted façade.

Spencer lunged forward and pressed his mouth hard against mine. The kiss was more bruising than breath-taking and more possessive than passionate. The panther stirred in my chest as he grabbed the back of my head and forced his tongue past my lips. He tasted like the Scotch he had been nursing at the table, and something else. Something dark and heady.

For all that I wanted to fight back, the part of me that was pure animal didn’t. His power felt natural against mine, one in the same. My panther arched into his energy as though it was a welcome caress. A deep purr rumbled in my ears. It made me feel sick when I realized it had come from me.

Desperate for air, I bit down his lower lip; the metallic taste of blood was instantaneous. A small part of me was satisfied at having drawn
his
blood for a change of pace.

He jerked back, dropping his hand from my head. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth, which curled up into a smile, but he didn’t release his hold on me. He leaned in again to repeat his sin, his arms tightening around me but I arched away from him. To everyone else on the dance floor, it probably looked like a dip to the Latin rhythms now mashed together over the loud speakers.

He jerked me back to our previous position, and our eyes locked. “We should be together.”

My mouth felt bruised from the trauma and I desperately wanted to wipe the taste of him from them. “No.”

“I need you Violet. With you, god, the two of us could destroy my father and revel in the chaos.” He ducked his head beside mine and nuzzled his nose behind my ear, taking in a lungful. My entire body tensed up and then a wave of cool goose bumps ran down my skin. “The two of us together. You can feel it too, can’t you?”

“No,” I growled the lie. I could feel it, how easily it would be to open up to him and run his panther past mine. But this was the bastard who attacked me in a back alley. This was the bastard who had trashed my lair. This was the bastard who asked out my best friend to get to me.

He ran his hand down the side of my face, then grabbed my chin, fingers digging into the bone. “You look just like your mother,” he smiled. A flash of white pressed down on his bloody lip. “I could have never imagined that Saturday night leftovers could be such a blessing.”

“Flatter all you want, I’ll never be yours.”

His jaw clenched and the feel, the smell of him, grew so intense it permeated the air around us. Surely the people around us had to feel it? But they danced on not seeing anything abnormal here. Many other couples had paired up to salsa to
Suavamente.

Arm still around my waist, he hit me with a wall of energy that beat anything I had ever done to Chaz. It flared out around us quickly outward as he readied his power. Thick as cement, it crept over my skin, the cool gritty feeling touching my skin through my clothes. Then it drove into me, like a spear through my midsection. He blasted through the paper thin protection I held around me like a cannon ball through dry wall.

My cat screamed out at the sudden attack as his power rammed through me. I’d felt this a week ago at the barn. Like he was trying to rip out the cat within me. I felt nails digging into flesh. I didn’t know if it was my cat digging in her claws to stay where she was or if it was my own claws piercing his perfect pectorals.

“I made you, Violet Jordan. You’re mine. Willingly or not,” he growled and his eyes blinked back to normal.

The pain was everywhere, blinding and hot, like daggers and needles all over my skin. Then, there was nothing. His power retreated, leaving a slimy chill in its wake as his cat went back behind his rock-solid borders he hid so easily behind.

I went limp for a moment, not strong enough to use my knees. I hung loosely on his arm before I could feel my feet, let alone stand on the two of them.

Dropping his arm, he pushed me away and left the dance floor. I stumbled into a few other dancers, who laughingly set me upright again and then returned to their reverie, leaving me wobbling on my feet. The first wave of nausea hit in the middle of the strobing lights and dancing bodies. I bounced between the dancers, brushing up against them as I drunkenly worked my way to the edge of the dance floor.

I flew to the bathroom, passing Jessa on the way in.

As I locked the bathroom stall door, I leaned against the cool metal. The vice in my stomach twisted, right in the center, like cramps from hell that pulled at my diaphragm and made it hard to breathe.

It was her, the panther. She was clawing around, injured, angry, and looking to get a piece of him.

My borders shot, I couldn’t keep her in. I couldn’t stop her. Didn’t want to. But there were people out there and some of them I loved and could never hurt.

Fumbling at small purse clasped around my wrist, my cell phone fell out and clattered on the white-and-black tiled floor. I stared down at my hand. It was covered in blood. His blood.

“Violet,” Jessa said from the other side of the thin stall door.

I could feel her energy for the first time, her light sprinkles across my hot panther. Her scent filled my nostrils, not her perfume, her
real
scent. Roses and raindrops.

Dropping to my knees, I reached out for my cell phone. My hand shook and I could swear it was darker than usual.

Jessa’s hand reached under the door and grabbed my hand.

“Violet, what’s wrong?”

I ripped my fingers out of hers. “Get out,” I hissed.

Jessa’s pale hand disappeared with my cell phone. I heard a click echoed through the black tiled bathroom. She’d locked herself in. Stupid, stupid girl.

“Three, speed dial three,” I managed out.

Jessa must have done what I asked.

I stood back up, needing to use my legs, my human legs. I pressed my back against the wall. The metal was startling cool on my flesh. I took in sharp shallow breaths. I couldn’t inhale, like my panther was trying to climb up my throat and suffocate me in silky fur.

“Violet?”

I heard the faint echo of Chaz’s voice. I closed my eyes and imagined him sitting in his car somewhere, probably closer than I’d like, watching.

“Something’s wrong,” Jessa answered.

“Who’s this?”

“She’s all over the place. I think she’s going to shift.”

Those were all the words I heard. The panther pushed against my chest, wanting to slide up, slide out. She was angry and the taste of blood still on my lips came back into sharp focus.

What the hell?
I forced my eyes open. I could see the blurry reflection of myself in the dull metal stall. Stay Violet. Stay Violet, I kept repeating to myself. Keep it together.

“He’s coming,” Jessa said from the other side of the door. “Whoever he is?”

The panther raged again, more powerful this time. She slammed my head against the wall behind me and stretched her leg. Four red long fiery welts appear down my thigh. My foot contorted and my right hind paw tore through my new heel.

There was a small yelp on the other side of the door. I heard her heels scurry away from the stall door.

The fear in Jessa’s cry snapped me back for a moment. It took everything I had to keep the damn cat in. She clawed down my arm this time and four long marks appeared down my bicep.

“Violet?” Jessa whimpered. “What’s happening?”

I couldn’t talk, couldn’t answer. I pressed myself in the back of the stall. I focused on the cold tiles. The smell of the air freshener than covered the harsh cleanser. Sucked in any air that the panther would let me.

“Violet, honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I did this to you.”

My chest hurt. I pressed my hand against the invisible wound. The pain of his penetration flared again, the feel of his energy sliding over my skin, touching me in places no one had ever before.

The panther flared again, raging against our violation. She was angry, she wanted revenge, and she was so much stronger than me. And he was so much stronger than us.

Suddenly, I was surrounded by roses. Cool feathers of energy brushed lightly over my exposed skin and the panther stopped, suspended in the cool floral energy. My thoughts cleared as I sucked in a shuttered breath. “Jessa?”

I could feel her on the other side of the metal door, could almost see where her hand and head pressed against the door. “Just a few minutes more, Vi.”

A furious series of bangs on the door echoed through the silent bathroom at the door. I jumped then and pressed myself back harder against the stall wall.

“No,” I cried out.
He was back. He was coming to finish the job.

“Stalker boy!” Jessa gasped.

“Where is she?”

The door to the stall slammed open, the weak metal lock clattering to the ground.

Chaz was standing there, outlined by the lights behind him. “We’re getting you home,” he said.

“I can’t,” I whimpered.

“My ass,” he growled.

As he took off his coat, his scent surrounded me. He was all man and musk. My eyes focused on his wildly beating pulse at his throat and I licked my lips.

The panther sprung forward, ripping me from where I had pressed myself against the tile. I stumbled forward with one heel on and Chaz caught me quickly. He wrapped me tightly in his jacket. I couldn’t move. He pulled me out of the stall and scooped me up into his arms. I buried my nose into his neck and took in the deepest breath of him as I could.

“Stay with me, Violet,” he whispered into my ear.

H
e laid me on the couch and Jessa tucked my favorite blanket tightly around me. She squeezed my shoulder hard.

“I’ll take it from here,” Chaz said softly.

Jessa knelt by my head. Her eyes were watery as she brushed my hair behind my ear. Her cool fingers felt like petals as she stroked my face.

I tried to say I was sorry. I wanted to tell her that she was my family. But as I opened my mouth, the panther tried to rise again. My entire body tensed up as I held on for everything.

Jessa smiled and kissed my forehead, the most intimate thing she had ever done in our two year friendship. “If you need anything . . . ever . . .”

She moved away from me, her rose scent fading fast as she crossed the room

Every muscle was clenched tightly. It held the panther in. In the back of Chaz’s Bronco, I’d discovered that if every one of my muscles was tensed, alert, the panther couldn’t climb through. But I was getting tired. She still managed to send me into convulsions and I was quickly running out of strength.

Chaz locked the front door behind Jessa and took out his cell phone.

I focused on his voice as he began to walk the whole length of my first floor. Listening to him, smelling him calmed the panther, calmed me.

Turning my head to watch him, he looked very worried. He ran his fingers through is hair. “But she’s convulsing. Okay. No, I wasn’t with her. Because she’s a big girl.”

A wave of nausea hit me and I rolled off the couch, finally breaking through my leather straight jacket. I landed hard on my knees and waited. I’d never gotten nauseous before with my shifts. Never been this out of control before.

“Okay. I think we do. Yeah. You want me to what?” he protested as he went into the kitchen.

The conversation faded away as another seizure took my body. It was taking longer to get her under control each time. I was losing this fight. My hand dug into the carpet, claws rippling just under the surface before I could tense back up again.

The notion hit me that I needed fresh air. Fresh air always helped when I was sick before. With all my might, I pulled myself up off the plush carpet and pin-balled my way across the back of the room to where the glass door used to be. A sheet of plywood was leaning up against the frame.

I used all my weight to slide the wood away from the frame and the cool night air hit me like a wall of crisp energy. Leaning against the wall just inside the door, I took in deep breaths of the night air, but the wild scented night air called to me to run like the streak of black fur that I really was.

I stumbled out the door and stood drunkenly out in the night air, swimming in the scents around me. The dogs next door. The flowers in Mrs. Henderson’s garden. Someone having sex with the window open. I could just let her go. I wasn’t in a crowded room. I could just streak away in the night and I wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

An arm circled around my waist and pulled me back into the house. A whimper escaped when the makeshift door closed, cutting me off from all those wonderful smells.

Chaz leaned me against the wall, keeping me there by pressing his lower half against mine and turning my face to his with his hand. He flooded my senses. The sight of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. The panther stilled for the moment as we watched him, watched his hazel eyes.

“You’ve been poisoned. We need to find the wound and clean it out.”

“What?” I managed to get out. It wasn’t just Spencer’s power? Cheater.