Diaries of an Urban Panther (11 page)

“I don’t know,” Iris shrugged. “Tell him you want to have his babies.”

“Iris,” I exclaimed and swatted her shoulder playfully. “It’s not like that with us.”

“I just say what I see.”

“Well then, get a pair of glasses,” I warned as my toast popped up and I moved across the kitchen to put in two more pieces.

“Better come up with something soon, he’s coming up the drive.”

Stopping my breathing to listen, really Listen with a capital L, for what Iris could already hear. I jumped as I heard the telltale engine rattling down the dirt road. I ran my fingers through my hair and redid my ponytail in the front hall mirror. Something about losing yourself in the wind really put pink in your cheeks.

He knocked on the door, which I thought was strange but as I opened it, I saw why. His arms were full: a duffle bag of clothing, a large brown paper box, and, much to my ecstasy, a carrier of Starbucks coffee.

“Hey, Violet,” he said as I opened the door so he could come in.

He offered the carrier of Starbucks. Eagerly, I took that and the brown paper package, leaving him with one whole arm free.

I just looked up at him, hoping something profound would work its way out, an apology from my reservoir of scripts would bubble to the top as I stared into his warm golden eyes. I realized I missed him.

Chaz looked down at me and opened his mouth but closed it again as Iris came into the room.

“You Garrett boys could always smell a free meal.” She waved for him to set his bags down and come into the kitchen.

He moved slowly away from me and I closed the door, careful of the hot cups in my hand, and followed them both into the kitchen.

Chaz carefully took the package from me and handed it to Iris.

“It’s from Balzac. He said it’s in there.”

Iris’s eyebrows rose as she took the package. “Oh.”

I desperately wanted to ask what it was, but neither of them were big on volunteering details. With the look that was passed between them, I could tell this was one of those topics “Violet didn’t need to know about.”

Iris took the package and went deeper into her house than I had ever ventured. Which left Chaz and me unchaperoned.

I set down the coffee and busied myself with checking to see which one was mine.

“They’re all for you,” he said in my ear, sliding down the table towards me so he only had to whisper.

“What?” I asked.

“I didn’t know what you wanted this morning, so I got your three favorites.”

I looked at the coffees and then up at him. “Is this an apology?”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown you against your car.”

“Yeah, you didn’t need to throw me against the car.”

“Well, it felt like you were dumping me here. But Iris and I had a long talk about the Cause and a few other things and I think I understand now.”

“Really?” he asked.

I had to move away from him. I was getting hot with him so close, so I went to finish toasting the bread. “Iris explained the Cause is almost like taking holy orders. You dedicate everything to it, even marking yourself for life with that tattoo. I understand it takes priority over everything.”

Chaz moved toward me like he was about to say something, when Iris came back in the kitchen and his mouth snapped shut.

“Eggs are getting cold, people,” she said sitting down at the table.

T
he huge volume Iris had drug out of her secret little back room made a heavy thud as it shook the kitchen table. She wiped her brow as she looked down at the volume. My mouth gaped at the dark leather with the darker symbol from Chaz’s arm emblazoned on the cover. Every story of Necronomicons and Books of Shadows ran through my head. I love my job.

“What’s that?” I asked as I slid across from her at the kitchen table.

“The Book of Prophesy.” Iris pushed the chair aside as she stood by the table to maneuver the thick leather cover open. Dust wafted across the table and tickled my nose. It smelled like Iris, ancient and powerful. (And powerful smells like lightning, just in case you wondering.)

“Like the little book that Chaz gave me?” I propped up on my knees to see the stained, ripped pages.

“This would be the great grandfather of that book. Had a hell of a time getting it for you.”

Corners were missing. Pages had been ripped out. Some had even been burned. I could smell the smoke as Iris flipped through the pages, daintily lifting and setting down each page.

Iris’s eyes widened when she found the page she had been looking for. With light fingers, she lifted out a sheet of white parchment from between the sheets.

“What is this?”

“Chaz said you wanted proof. Seem to have the panther part down. A little too well, I think, but as for the other part, the Perfect part. This is all I got. This is the Book where the Powers found out about you.” She turned the book around and pushed it towards me.

And I pushed away and scurried back until I hit the kitchen counter. I knew it wasn’t going to bite me too, but I couldn’t be too sure anymore. “What?”

“The people who sent Chaz to protect you. This is what they knew. This is why you were followed.”

“This book was why I was attacked?”

“And don’t you want to know why?”

Of course I wanted to know why. Why little Violet Jordan who never hurt a fly. Why Violet Jordan who just want to write about the supernatural, not actually live it. “Sure, play to the curiosity of the cat. Low blow, Iris.”

Her brittle finger and ridged nail pointed out a section of script. There was a break in the text. It looked like someone has been making a diary entry, then stopped and started writing poetry.

“Who wrote this?”

“Someone a long time ago.”

I licked my lips and took a few steps towards it. Even at this distance, I could feel it, like a hot stove burner it radiated life. I reached out to touch the paper but my hand stopped and hovered over it. I could feel it’s power pushing against my palm. How can a book be powerful?

I tucked my hands back under my elbows as I studied the actual text. “I can’t read it.”

“It’s the Old Language of our People,” Iris said, pointing again. “You wanted proof. That verse about you.”

A chill ran down my back as my eyes scanned the language. Somewhere in that swirly script was the reason I was plucked out of my life. Somewhere in that unknown language was why I was fated to get attacked in a back alley, turn furry, and be stalked by men in sports cars.

I jumped up from table and paced behind the kitchen chair. Guess I finally met a book I didn’t like.

“Calm down. You’re as nervous as a . . .”

“If you say long-tailed cat, I’ll scream.” I paced, looking down at her linoleum tile, pulling my hair back up into a ponytail. “I was written about, Iris. It’s creepy.”

“You were prophesied about. There’s a difference.”

“One makes me a character. One makes me a Perfect, right?”

Iris nodded as she watched me go back and forth. I scratched behind my ear and took in a deep breath. This was insane but hadn’t I asked for proof? This was proof. “Okay. What’s it say?”

Iris slid the white piece of paper across the table. “Figure it out.”

“What?”

Iris sighed. “You’re just going to make everything difficult, aren’t you? Take the paper, figure it out.”

“Do you have a dictionary or something?”

“You have to do this yourself.”

I slid down into the chair and looked at the script. Staring at the pages didn’t do anything. I flipped the book around and tried to read it backwards. “This is impossible.”

“You’ll get it,” Iris said. “The powerful Wanderers can read the old language. Perfects can read their prophecy because it is connected to them.”

This thing had my entire life written on it and it was in another freakin’ language. Yep. That sounds about right.

I
stared at that book for two hours. I wrote it, wrote it backwards. Even went all
Da Vinci Code
on it and got nothing but a flare in my carpal tunnel and a broken hair tie. All I knew for sure was it was the most beautiful language I’d ever seen.

“I can’t do this,” I finally said, giving up. The table skittered across the kitchen table as I pushed it away in frustration and jumped up.

Iris shuffled back into the kitchen. “Please let me know
before
you decide to redecorate.” She pushed the table back into its place and went to the fridge.

“How the hell am I supposed to do this? I’m a writer, not a code breaker.”

“Well, maybe if you would just realize that you’re one of us now, it might come a little easier.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I let you drug me. Isn’t that enough?”

Iris only grunted. “Apparently not.”

“I need some fresh air.”

When I hit the front porch, I sucked in a deep breath of Texas air. What the hell? Friggin’ A. I can’t just be a shapeshifting freak, I have to be a shapeshifting freak with a prophecy.

“Hey Violet.”

I jumped out of my skin and spun to see Chaz sitting on the railing of the porch. “What the hell, Chaz? Wear a bell!”

He just laughed. “How’s it going in there?”

“You were right about the Perfect thing.”

“Isn’t that good news?”

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe. When’d you get back?”

“About an hour ago.”

“Why aren’t you in there gloating?”

“Because if I go inside, she’ll put me to work.”

I wanted to smile, but I couldn’t muster even a twinge in the corner of my lips. I sat on the other corner of the banister and stared at my feet.

“While I was in town, I researched dog attacks. Nothing in your area. Which tells me they are not dogs, if you catch my drift. And the car is still a wash.”

“Yay,” I said with a feigned celebration dance. “I’ve got a prophecy, a mysterious pack of dogs, and another stalker. This has really been a banner year for me.”

“At least you have a prophecy. At least you have a direction.”

I frowned. “How can it be a good thing? So far it’s just made me a target.”

Chaz looked over at me with his golden eyes and my entire body tightened and chilled. But I was going to blame it on the puddle of moonlight I was sitting in. “I’m not in the Book of Prophecy. No one in my family is. We’re just a bunch of worker bees.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re expendable.”

“Chaz,” I jumped up. “No. You’ve got an amazing gift. Creeps me out a little, but it’s cooler than smelling people a block away.”

“But you’ve got a purpose in the big scheme of things. A mission with an end. They sent people to protect you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You sound envious.”

A dark shadow crossed his face as he looked back out across Iris’s back property. It was that dark brooding look that made my heart sink into my stomach. God. I’d done it again. Why can’t I just think for two seconds before I open my big mouth? The big Theys hadn’t sent help to his father and look what happened there. That’s what he meant.

“You must hate me.”

He was silent. His jaw clenched as he kept his eyes as far away from me as possible.

“I mean, I’m a panther and a lousy one at that. And a city girl who was stupid enough to get herself bitten in a back alley, protecting herself with a shoe. A shoe.”

There was a small twitch of something in the corner of his mouth as his jaw relaxed. That’s what I was going for.

“I mean. They are pretty big shoes, but seriously, against a monster? See. Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Between me and you. I think that psychic might have picked the wrong girl.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he finally said.

Every fiber of my being vibrated as his golden eyes landed on me, like a plucked harp string.

“You’re not a normal girl, Violet.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I snorted.

“Shut up and let me talk,” he said as he slid off the banister and ran his hands though his hair. “I’ve been sent to find a few of these Perfects. Dad called them ‘newbie runs’ when a Perfect was awakened because their time had come, their epic deed was about to pass.”

“Are there a lot in Dallas?” I interrupted.

Chaz sighed. “Not in years. There hasn’t been much hope since, he took over.”

“And by
he
you mean . . .”

“Haverty.”

I don’t know why I was surprised that he could say the word. Probably because I couldn’t even think about it most days. Probably because if something besides an act of God had killed my parents, I’d have hunted them down to the ends of the earth. Still would.

“I’ve never seen anyone accept all this like you.”