The warrior watched as his men laughed and ate, healthy and happy under the guidance of this new general.
“The inn needs some work as well,” she mentioned the next day as she delivered their lunches.
“Yes, ma’am.”
My mother stopped her story there.
“Go on,” I prompted.
“I can’t. There’s no more story to tell.”
“Why not?”
“You haven’t written it yet.”
Jessa had to shake me hard from my sleep. I’d curled up in the front window where the sun still streamed in on my favorite reclining chair and I slept like the dead—or the should-be dead.
“What?” I snapped before I could see who it was and what they were doing.
“I need to go home,” Jessa said backing away from my curled up position on the chair. I had somehow managed to completely curl up on just the seat with my head on the arm.
“Do you want me to go with you?” I finally responded after I unfurled and sat up, rubbing my eyes and the pattern of the upholstery off my face.
“Nah, I think I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be silly. Just let me get my clothes on.”
“No really, Violet,” she said her voice commanding my attention. “You need to sleep. You look terrible.”
“So you don’t want to be seen in public with me at the sake of your safety?”
Jessa sighed and walked back up to the chair and sat on the arm. She wrapped her left arm around me and leaned her head on mine. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that you need to sleep and I need my shower.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “I’m fine.”
Jessa smacked me on the head and then squeezed me hard.
“Do you think life is going to be like this from now on? With all the almost dismemberment and danger?” I asked tentatively.
“Life is dangerous anyway, sacred destiny or not. That’s why you have to live every minute like it’s your last.”
“Wow. That was deep. You okay? Do you need to lie down or something?”
She hit me on the head again and huffed playfully as she walked across the room to grab her keys off the foyer table.
“I’m going to be fine,” she smiled as she reached for the knob.
“But if you smell an ounce of trouble you call us, okay?” I said with a wagging finger, something my mother used to do.
“Us? Stalker boy upstairs?”
“You think I looked bad. He still hasn’t slept.”
Jessa just giggled to herself as she opened the door, letting in the fresh air.
As I watched her walk to her car, I knew she would be fine, at least for today because the universe couldn’t be that evil.
The second thought in my head was that my bed was now open. I slowly climbed the stairs feeling much better after my catnap and leaped on the feather comforter, making the bed springs protest under my sudden weight.
I was almost asleep when I heard the handle of my bedroom door turn. The door slowly opened and Chaz’s bare shoulder slid in first, followed by the rest of him. He was wrapped up in a towel. It was pretty.
“I need a favor.”
“Okay?” I smiled at the possibilities.
“I’m going to have to burn those clothes.”
“Yeah, bonfire later tonight. I’m thinking marshmallows.”
“Is there any way you could go to my car to get my duffle?”
“Seriously?”
“I think it would look less scandalous, you in your robe than me in a towel.”
He was right. Any more calls to the cops or questionable cars and my Homeowners’ Association was going to kick me out.
“Fine,” I said as I threw the covers off.
I tromped down the stairs making sure that my footsteps were enough of a protest and threw open the front door to my beautiful neighborhood.
His car was right outside and the duffle was in the backseat. I opened it up and picked up the black duffle. A gun slid out of the side pocket and onto the seat.
This is the life that chose me, I thought as I put the piece back into the side pocket and shouldered the bag. Side arms and sidekicks. Guns and guys.
As I stood back up to close up the car, I looked across the street to see four black dogs sitting there. Crap.
They didn’t move, just stayed across the street. But I could feel them, feel their anticipation, their need. They were dogs. They were waiting for orders. I could think of several things that I’d like to tell them to do, but then remembered how Briggs looked last night, lost and lonely.
“Go watch Jessa.”
The dogs turned in unison and took off down the street.
As I watched them run, I felt something brewing in the air. It quickened my trek back to the house. I slammed the door behind me and locked all the locks.
Chaz was behind me in four seconds, his towel still hung low on his hips. “Everything okay?”
I looked up at him and leaned against the door. “Mongrels were outside. Just hanging out.”
His jaw tightened as he took the bag from my shoulder.
“This is my life from now on, isn’t it? A full menagerie of problems.”
He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it,” I pushed him away and went to pout on my couch.
He set the duffle on the ground and came to sit next to me. He smelled so much better now. “I can’t tell you what’s coming. I talked to Iris; she only knows so much. But we created a vacuum of power. There will be chaos.”
“Oh, god. Iris. Is she going to be okay?”
He put his arm around my shoulder and nodded. “She’s going to be just fine.”
I thought of Iris and Jessa and Devin. “Oh crap, Devin.”
“What about Devin?”
I hung my head. “He was there when I . . . and then we might have . . . Oh god, what am I going to do about that?”
Chaz didn’t attempt to answer. He just pulled me into his shoulder and I rest my head on his warm clean skin. “One crisis at a time.”
“So there’s the Prima thing. The Guardian thing. The power vacuum thing. I’m going to need a white board or something to keep it all straight.”
“And then there’s us.”
My entire body shivered when he said that. I pulled away and looked at him. Taking down a beastie the size of an Expedition, killing a man, becoming a Prima, and the only thing that still floored me was he loved me.
“No witty comeback?” he tried to fight a smile.
I just shook my head slowly from side to side, my brain still spinning wonderfully. I was too tired. It just took too much energy to be pithy and sarcastic and frankly, I needed the energy for more important things now.
Chaz full smile faded sadly. I felt his shift of demeanor in my chest. My heart sunk with the confusion in his eyes.
“I don’t know how do to this,” he said.
The words were so familiar, like the pain of ripping stitches. My eyes began to water and my skin bristled as some part of me prepared for another fight.
He must have read it in my eyes. “God, no. Violet. I’m never leaving again,” he said quickly. “I love you. I’ve seen you take this curse and make it into something miraculous. It scares the crap out of me because I’m an idiot when it comes to relationships.”
The relief in my chest freed a small tear to slip from my eye. He was an idiot. Admitting it is the always the first step. I softened because he did have a hard time getting out the next few words.
“And I don’t know exactly how it’s passed on.” He was facing his fears as he took my hand in his.
“You don’t know if you could be infected,” I clarified for him, using the words I knew he didn’t like, even though there was no other vernacular for it. “If we were just lucky the first time.”
He nodded slowly, watching me carefully.
I knew the answer; it rushed over me like a wonderfully refreshing s
tream. A certainty I had never had before. A strength I’d never felt before. The world was right again.
“It’s okay,” I smiled softly up at him, caressing that movie-star jaw of his. Still wanting to touch everything just to make sure that it was real. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Can’t have two furries around the house?” I joked, as I tweaked his chin.
He laughed one strong laugh and kissed me. It was still wonderful and I was very glad my toes were tucked beneath my lavender robe, because they were curling more than Christmas ribbon.
He pulled me close as he lay back on the couch, the crease finally gone from between his brows. I relaxed against his bare chest where I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. I smiled. A real man lying on my couch. And I knew this time he was going to stay.
“Just because we can’t do that doesn’t mean that we can’t sleep next to each other and have coffee together and go out to the movies together . . .”
“And take showers together,” he suggested.
I nodded approvingly and let my imagination wander for just a few seconds.
“And it may not be forever. We just need more information.”
And now it was my turn to laugh as I pulled a blanket over the two of us as I snuggled in for a deep warm nap.
“What?”
“Only I could have a love life that requires research.”
Stay Tuned for
Further Adventures in the Life of
Violet Jordan
Coming December 2011
From Amanda Arista
and
Avon Impulse
About the Author
Amanda was born in Illinois, raised in Corpus Christi, lives in Dallas but her heart lies in London. She has a husband who fights crime, one dog who thinks he’s a real boy, and another who might be a fruit bat in disguise. She spends her weekends writing at coffee shops, practicing for the day that caffeine intake becomes an Olympic sport, and plotting character demises with fellow writers Wolvarez, Killer Cupcake, and Keith (names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent).
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DIARIES OF AN URBAN PANTHER. Copyright © 2011 by Amanda Arista. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition July 2011 ISBN: 9780062113160
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062114747
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About the Publisher
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Announcement Page
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
Diaries of an Urban Panther Page 33
