The emerald eyes of a black panther glared back at me.
3
The panther faced our small group, a low rumble building in the back of the animal’s throat.
For a surreal beat, I thought I was dreaming. Ferocious jungle cats didn’t typically hang out in libraries.
As the creature’s eyes bored into me, and I caught a flash of razor-sharp teeth, I took a step away from the desk and held my cane up protectively.
Much good it would do against a fearsome predator.
Humanity had reached the top of the food chain because of our big brains and ability to cooperate and form strong social bonds. Armed with weapons and working as a tribe, no beast was our match. Catch us off guard, however, and we were easy prey—our soft, vulnerable bodies putty for the jagged incisors, sharp claws, and ferocious power of such a beast.
I swallowed hard, my mouth turning dry as terror raced up my spine.
Natalia and Karl drew their firearms from under their jackets.
I took little comfort from their quick response. Guns were powerful weapons as long as you hit your target, and I had logged enough hours on the Discovery Channel to know how fast panthers could move. If this beast sprang into action, only an expert marksman could stop the giant cat before it buried its teeth in one of us. The panther felt the same way, remaining visibly unimpressed by the firepower on display.
I was still staring at the beast when a gravely male voice whispered into my ear, “Erik, you must protect the book.”
The strange voice threw me for a loop, and the panther ceased to be my main concern. Where had the mystery speaker come from? Was my terror making me imagine things?
And then I heard another sound, a creaking of wood from above us. My gaze turned upward, and I found a second panther perched on the catwalk that encircled the library walls.
An instant later, reality seemed to speed up as the beast leaped at our group. Natalia and her partner brought up their guns, but their response was a fraction of a second too late.
The ferocious panther landed right on top of Karl and buried him under its weight. A mighty paw flashed out and transformed the man’s face into a raw hamburger meat, cutting off a scream before it could erupt from his lips. Blood sprayed the books near him, turning the spines of priceless manuscripts red.
Natalia fired madly at the creature. A hail of bullets tore into the thick muscles of the beast, and it let go of the rag doll formerly known as Karl.
The beast’s hiss of agony filled the library and its fur smoked, the creature burning up from the inside. A second later, the panther collapsed and mewled softly.
That wasn’t normal.
A chill rippled up my neck as my attention turned back to the first panther. The creature was closing in on Natalia, and judging by its coiled hindlegs, was about to jump.
The woman spun away from the smoking cat she’d filled with lead, her gun up, feet locked in a firing stance.
She squeezed off a few shots at the approaching enemy.
Two bullets missed the fast-moving jungle cat, and then the Glock abruptly stopped firing, the magazine spent.
Natalia ejected the mag and swapped it out for a fresh one. With horror, I realized she wouldn’t pull it off on time. The beast was almost on top of her. She was done for.
Unless I intervened.
Tapping into a reservoir of courage I didn’t know I had, I yelled at the top of my lungs and brandished my cane like a sword.
“Over here, furball! Pick on someone your own damn size!”
Don’t ask me where these words came from or how I generated such commanding strength in my voice. I suspect adrenaline had a lot to do with it.
To my surprise, my ploy worked.
The panther paused.
Turned toward me.
And this momentary distraction was all Natalia needed. I had bought her precious seconds and probably saved her life. Now she just needed to save mine.
She snapped a fresh mag into her Glock.
Fired.
The bullet hit the creature, and it let out a loud yelp before darting off into the darkness.
“All right, hero boy, grab the book and get your ass out of here.”
The voice in my head sounded louder now. No longer could I dismiss it as a product of my overactive imagination. Someone was mentally communicating with me.
I stared at the manuscript that had become a ticket to a nightmare. Before I consciously understood what I was doing, I had already snatched the book. The leather volume felt hot to the touch, the tome radiating a strange, unexpected heat. As I pulled the book close, I heard the voice again.
“Now run. Run for your life, Erik!”
The mystery speaker didn’t have to repeat those words. Book in hand, I burst into motion. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mason taking off too. I followed his example and made a go for the doorway ten feet up ahead. I knew from past visits that the door led into the main section of the library.
How did I expect to outrace the panthers? An Olympic runner would have failed to escape from these black streaks of lightning, much less someone in my pathetic physical condition. I guess logic had taken a backseat to my terror.
As I reached the door, I foolishly hazarded a glance backward. I caught movement in the shadows, and a pair of emerald eyes fixed on me. Was this the same creature Natalia had wounded or a new beast? The monster staring back at me from the darkness wasn’t interested in the gun-toting Amazon or avenging his fallen brethren. The cat’s attention was focused on… me.
Correction, not me, but the book in my hands.
Fuck.
“Move your ass, boy!” The voice in my head was screaming at me now.
The panther in the shadows roared, and my mind went blank. Natalia spun in the direction of the sound and unleashed a second volley into the blackness. Adrenaline exploded through my veins, and my legs sprang into motion of their own volition. I did not know if Natalia had hit the beast or not, but I didn’t plan on hanging around and finding out.
I prayed Mason and Natalia would be okay as I tore into the next room, driven by mortal fear. My legs pumped like pistons, terror pushing my broken body beyond its limits and propelling me past the shelves of books. I knew this exertion would ultimately take a terrible toll on my body, but I wouldn’t worry about that right now. Only one thing mattered—survival.
I sprinted down the corridor of bookshelves as fast as my half-crippled body allowed me to, madly turning left then right, edging deeper into the labyrinth of the stacks in the hopes I might shake off my feline pursuers. This strategy would have paid off if humans had been hunting me, but an animal didn’t track prey purely by sight. The senses of these jungle creatures was superhuman.
I slowed down, my body rebelling against the rough treatment. Walls of books closed in on me like the blades of a compactor. A place that had been my favorite refuge from the world and had provided me with countless hours of pleasure was now filled with menace.
Anger bubbled up inside of me. These creatures had violated my inner sanctum, marked it with death and bloodshed. Even if through some miracle I survived this day, the horrific events would forever taint this cherished place.
“Stop being a crybaby, kid! Hide the book while you can!”
The voice stopped me dead in its tracks. The mystery speaker had come to the same grim conclusion about my chances of getting out of this maze in one piece. There was no escape for me, but there was still a chance I could prevent the tome from falling into the monster’s claws.
A hissing roar reverberated through the library, reminding me that the panthers were on my tail.
I scoped out my surroundings, took in the shelves crammed with printed material. For a split second, I considered stuffing the book into a shelf but decided against hiding it in plain sight. Bad idea. That wouldn’t work. The book’s burnished leather binding would make it stick out too much when placed next to the other titles. There had to a better hiding spot.
>
My gaze fell on the antique wooden world globe sitting on a stand at the far end of the aisle. It contained a hidden compartment. That would have to do since I couldn’t think of anywhere else.
I rushed up to the globe and depressed the button that made the top pop open. I remember the day Mason had shown me the secret compartment. He’d joked at the time that this was where he stashed his bourbon for those days when he didn’t get to leave the library until the wee hours of the night.
As the globe’s dome dramatically swung open, I almost expected it to reveal the secrets of the universe, or at least offer me a glimpse at Mason’s stash of hooch. It was empty, however, and I swiftly placed the book inside it.
Heart hammering away in my chest, I sealed the globe and limped down the next narrow passageway of books. As my broken body lurched through the library like a modern-day Quasimodo, I must’ve cut a pitiful figure.
My mind reeled, logic unable to make sense of the strangeness around me. What were panthers doing in a library? How could they display near-human intelligence? And why would these beasts chase after a medieval text? None of it made a lick of damn sense.
My life had taken a sharp turn into the Twilight Zone.
And it was about to get weirder.
A dark silhouette suddenly rounded the corner up ahead, blocking my passage and forcing me to stop. The shadowy shape was too tall and muscular to be either Mason or Natalia.
The figure moved, took a step toward me and edged into the light.
My breath caught in my throat.
The person facing me was part human, part beast, a hybrid creature who stood erect on two legs. Black fur covered a curvy female body, but the head was that of a ferocious panther. Both the hands and feet ended in paws studded with curved claws.
A werepanther.
The female panther-beast eyed me with bloodthirsty satisfaction and drew back its lips, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
I feebly raised my cane.
“If you think your little stick can tame this monster, you have another thing coming to you,” the voice in my head said.
Tell me something I don’t know, I thought irritably.
Saliva dripped from the beast’s open maw, and I caught a faint whiff of its foul breath. It unleashed a terrible roar and bounded toward me like a cannonball.
An instant later, the beast was on top of me, and I found myself on the carpeted floor, struggling to remain conscious after the collision. It was like a freight train had run me over. An almost pleasant heat radiated from my right shoulder and expanded over one side of my face.
I craned my neck and with horror realized that I was covered in blood, the source of the spreading warmth.
The creature had taken a goddamn bite out of me; the shoulder wound looked like a crushed grape. I flashed back to my fateful car accident. I hadn’t seen so much blood pour from my body since that fateful day.
I tried to push against the savage creature, under no illusion I could stop the beast but hoping to at least make the mauling a little more difficult. I knew the panther would have laughed right into my hemorrhaging face if it could express such human emotions.
There was solely one thing I could do at his point: pass out and die before the beast took another vicious bite out of me.
I was about to do just that when I felt the medallion around my neck heat up, and the giant weight of the monster being lifted from me. A blue aura of light engulfed the panther lady and flung her off me before she could deliver the death blow.
What was happening?
I twisted my head weakly, and a wave of agony shot through my side.
Through a pair of bleary eyes, I spotted the werepanther about ten feet away from me. The creature hissed in pain and shock as blue energy crackled around her muscular hide, the same light that emanated from my father’s amulet. Had the medallion protected me against the attack somehow? More likely this was just a hallucination in the final moments of my life.
My wild speculation ended when the beast staggered back to its feet, the blue light already growing fainter. My medallion might have warded off the first assault, but the creature was quickly regaining its strength. Its green eyes blazed with a voracious hunger, eager for a rematch.
I steeled myself for the inevitable mauling. I wondered if Mason had safely made it out of the library. I thought of my father and mother, and whether they’d be there to greet me on the other side. Most of all I thought of Ashley. I felt like such a fool for not having pursued the lovely psychology professor.
My mind went blank with fear as the panther rose to its full height, red-stained teeth bared and eager to tear into my flesh again.
The beast took a step in my direction, hissed a hot, wet sound, and bunched its powerful muscles, about to launch itself at me.
And that’s when the world exploded with gunfire.
The hail of bullets missed the female panther creature which darted off into the shadows.
My blurry gaze peered up at Natalia. She sported a smoking pistol in her hand.
Suddenly, the darkness behind her rippled.
“Watch out!”
Natalia spun toward a male panther hybrid which had popped from the darkness. He’d probably joined the fight to protect the female were who’d bitten me.
This time the burst of bullets from Natalia’s gun found their target. Bullets punched into the creature’s torso and flung it to the ground.
The hybrid beast let out a pain-filled rattle of air and grew still.
My blood still seeping into the carpet, I watched as the lifeless werepanther began to change. The teeth retracted, the fur thinned, the animalistic features became human. Seconds later the lifeless eyes of a naked, dead man stared back at me.
Nothing made sense anymore. Would the horrors ever stop today?
I heard approaching footsteps, my body unable to experience fear any longer as it went into shock. It was over. I was about to die.
Natalia kneeled before me. She almost looked sad.
“Where’s the book, Erik?” she asked.
I couldn’t answer the question as my face went numb, and the world turned dark.
As reality faded out, the last noise I heard sounded a lot like a panther’s roar.
4
I dreamt of monstrous giant panthers stalking me through a series of endless underground tunnels filled with ancient coffins, books, and artifacts. I felt the hot, stinking breath of the massive cats running down the nape of my neck, inhaled the copper scent of blood. It was my blood, my whole body covered in catastrophic bite marks. I looked like I’d become the favorite chew toy for a bunch of jungle cats.
And then one of the panthers peeled from the shadows and rippled toward me, claws and fangs ready to finish me off.
I let out a scream and woke up in a hospital bedroom with a series of IVs attached to my body and with zero clue how long I’d been out for or how I’d gotten there. A heartbeat monitor steadily beeped to my right, suggesting that my life signs were stable.
The sterile, white surroundings felt intimately familiar. The last time I’d found myself in a hospital had been ten years earlier after my horrific car accident. Numbed on painkillers and barely able to process what was happening, the whole experience had become a blur. When the meds had finally worn off, I’d been in a world of hurt that continued all the way into my agonizing rehabilitation.
Today was the exact opposite. I felt healthy and invigorated, my mind sharp and vibrant. Whatever drugs I was on, they were making me feel great without dulling the edges of my perception. I wanted to leap out of my hospital bed and bound straight out of this depressing place.
I’d spent months bedridden during my original hospital stay. This time, I had no intention of remaining here for a single extra night.
I looked down at myself. I wore a white hospital gown and thick gauze covered my shoulder.
Taking in the bandages, the macabre events of the library assaulted my mind in a series o
f flashes. I remembered the panther creature burying its knife-like teeth into my flesh, remembered the blood and screams and roars that had echoed all the way into my nightmare.
It was a damn miracle I was alive. Well, the miracle in this case was the striking young woman who’d shot the creature before it killed me.
Thoughts of Natalia Creed made me flash back to that insane moment when the panther had turned human. That triggered other memories. My brain turned to the strange medieval text I’d stashed inside the globe—and the alien voice in my head telling me to run and hide the book.
Was I losing my mind? How could any of this this be possible?
My right hand instinctively reached under my shirt for my medallion. The docs would have most likely stripped off any jewelry before stitching me up. To my surprise, the amulet rested against my chest and was warm to the touch. There was no sign of the mysterious blue energy I’d experienced back at the library.
It all seemed so fantastic and outrageous, and for a split second, I wondered whether I might have gotten into another car accident on my way to see Mason and dreamt up the whole thing while in a coma. The bandages around my shoulder seemed to rule out such a scenario.
And talking about Mason, I sure hoped he was okay.
Suddenly, a pressing need hit me. I had to relieve my bladder.
Welcome back to reality, Erik!
Unfortunately, I was strapped in with IVs and other cables. I eyed the nurse call button for a beat. I had vowed never to use a bedpan again in my life, but I also didn’t want a stranger helping me pee. Before I could talk myself out of it, I decisively pulled off the tangle of tubes and rushed toward the bathroom.
As I crossed the room, I felt stronger than I had in years. My legs tingled with energy and power, and there was a spring in my step. I didn’t feel like someone who’d almost become cat chow.
I flipped on the light and walked up to the toilet bowl. A shiver of delight ran down my back as I emptied my bladder. Who knew such a simple act could feel so frigging good?
As I relieved myself, something felt different. I glanced up at a nearby mirror and froze. My medallion, which normally rested on a scrawny chest, now sat on a well-developed set of muscles. Mighty guns framed bulging pecs and perfect six-pack abs. I looked like a poster boy for a gym membership.
Panther Curse Page 3
