Claws & Effect

By Amanda Arista

Violet Jordan Rule #2 of being a superhero:
Find reliable sidekicks.

Dear Diary,

Once I took down Haverty, the Primo of the city,

I thought life was going to get better. After four assassination attempts, I'm thinking not so much. Haverty's pack needs a new leader, and I've just about run out of reasons why I'm not right for the job.

Besides, having loyal followers would definitely help me fight off whoever's out for my blood. Especially sincemy boyfriend is always busy playing White Hat to every wanderer except me. I'm glad he thinks I'm tough enough to handle my own business, but a little extra backup would be nice.

So now I just need to figure out how to mentor new shifters, run a pack, keep my "real" job, and have some sort of personal life. All in a day's work for this horror movie writer-turned-shapeshifting panther.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Apr 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094440743

Amanda Arista

Amanda Arista was born in Illinois, grew up in Corpus Christi, and lives in Dallas, but her heart lies in London. When not writing, she often dreams of co-opening an evil bakery and selling despicable desserts. She spends her weekends writing at coffee shops, practicing for the day that caffeine intake becomes an Olympic sport, and plotting character demises.

Book preview

Prologue

Dear Diary,

I know it’s been a while. Five months ago, after I was attacked in the back alley of my town house, I was rescued by an überhot guy named Chaz. He told me that there was a prophecy all about me and that I might turn into a werepanther. He was right on both counts.

Four months ago, Spencer Haverty, my sire, the guy who bit me, tried to convince me to join the dark side. It didn’t work. So he poisoned me and left me for dead.

Jessa, my best friend in the world, is also apparently an undercover fairy princess (I know . . .). She saved me that day but bonded us together as the dynamic duo in charge of protecting the Veil, a thin border between our world and the world where wild things live, including a demon named Jovan, who desperately wants to take over our reality.

Three months ago, in an epic battle against my maker to save my best friend and the world as we know it, Spencer jumped through the Veil, and I ended up killing his father, the Primo of the Dallas Pride. As he lay dying, he gave me his power, all of it: the Haverty Legacy and the hellfire that comes with it. Yep. Welcome to my world.

Chapter 1

I DIDN’T NOTICE THE intoxicating aroma of stale creek water until I was finished packing up my laptop and notes. Crap. And I thought today might just be a normal day. Silly Violet.

I slowly scanned my coffee shop. Nothing new here. Same coffee guy. Same old man who sat in the corner everyday grumbling at the newspaper. Then, a shadow darted across the sun-filled window.

I put my bag over my shoulder and moved carefully out of the café. The scent was still there, lingering. Watching. Waiting.

Double crap.

With ears peeled and eyes aware of everything around me, I stalked around the corner to the small lot where my car was parked. I kept my borders open but not relaxed, aware but not overpowering.

And that’s when it hit me. A burst of wind lifted me up and threw me against the brick of the coffee shop. I cracked my head against the wall, but what was really painful was the crack of my laptop against the brick. I slid down the wall and landed on my feet.

The laptop was new. Now, I was pissed.

A slight, scraggly man walked across the parking lot. He looked greasy and smelled like lightening. Smelled like Sensei. The man’s dark hair hung over his ice blue eyes and his acid-washed jacket needed to go back to the eighties where it came from.

I just smiled. My Jeet Kune Do sensei, an ancient wind elemental himself, had thrown me against more walls than I could count during our five months of training. And if this guy really was looking for a fight, this was going to be cathartic.

Thanks, I said to him as he approached in long, determined strides for his small figure. I ran my fingers through my hair. Wind-blown look is all the rage this season.

You shouldn’t be laughing, the man snarled.

Why not? I was already looking for an escape route. There were three, providing that Little Boy Blew stayed where he was.

Thank you, Chaz, for making me a paranoid little panther. While other couples were playing footsie on their dates, Chaz and I were playing Shoots and Ladders, discussing the best places to hide weapons and to get out of a place quickly and undetected.

The man stopped six feet away. I pushed myself away from the wall. He couldn’t have been any taller than me in his oversized combat boots. Compensate much?

His hands clenched tightly at his side, just like Sensei’s did.

You’re about to die.

You know, I said as I pulled off my already pulverized laptop and set it on the ground next to me. People keep saying that. In fact, you’re the fourth.

And he was. Little showdowns like this were becoming a pretty regular thing. They all wanted a piece of Violet to prove something.

And they all walked away bleeding. Of course, most of the time I had Chaz or Jessa with me. But solo might be fun. This little guy would be no trouble.

And the last.

I love men and their bravado.

As with Sensei, I could sense the attack before it came, a whiff of lightning on the wind. Got to love those panther super senses.

The man drew in his energy and punched it at me. His power extended out from his hand and a fist of wind hit the brickwork next to my head. Brick chunks flew off the wall and got caught in my hair. The noise made me jump. So, maybe he might be a little stronger than first assessed.

Another attack came a second later, and I slid down the wall to avoid getting pulverized, another crushed brick in the wall.

Ready for the real show?

Sure, I nodded.

Turned out that two wind punches at a time wasn’t as easy to avoid. Dodged one of them but the other caught me in the chest.

My shoulder blade ground into the wall, and I smelled blood.

And then I smelled wet dog again.

Holding my arm, I watched as a man the size of a linebacker tackled the small elemental to the ground. There wasn’t much of a struggle with such a surprise attack. The smaller man’s head slammed against the pavement and his eyes rolled back in his head. I didn’t miss the irony that the wind probably got knocked out of him. Either way, by the looks of the wound to his forehead that now dripped blood onto the pavement, he wasn’t getting up any time soon.

I grabbed for my laptop and quickly found my keys in my pocket. The bulky pepper spray Chaz gave me was easy to grab.

The large man stood up and brushed off his dusty trench coat.

He looked down at the elemental and nudged the body with his foot. Seeming satisfied, he turned toward me.

I’d never forget that smell. It had accosted me too many times and was associated with too many bad memories. But if it weren’t for his smell, I don’t know if I would have even recognized him from any other homeless person on the street. His brown hair hung down around his dark brown eyes now and his cheeks were a bit more sunken in and smudged with dirt than the last time I saw him.

What do you want, Briggs? I asked. His presence here was more concerning than the fourth assassination attempt moments before. Two months ago, Briggs and his mongrels had my best friend strapped to a chair, ready to cut her into pieces. Now, he stood before me like a sullen child.

Nothing, he said quickly.

Then why are you still following me?

I couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but his power was low, nothing aggressive, like a hot coal left alone in a fire pit. My brain was wiped clean of all the images of violence that his other form, a black lab, had caused and was replaced by that of a little lost puppy.

Because we need you.

I rolled my eyes. Not this again.

We need someone to protect us.

No, I said shaking my head as I walked past him toward my car. I’ve already got enough on my plate. I’m not taking on a bunch of mutts. You’re grown men.

We don’t know where else to go.

You’re a police officer, Briggs.

Not anymore.

I paused in my retreat to my car. There had been repercussions from my showdown against the Haverty Pride two months ago, but up to this point, it had all been aimed at me. An attack from a wind elemental here, a werewolf there. It had never occurred to me just how influential the Havertys could have been or what could befall a rogue member of the Pride after I had rid the Pride of both its head and its heir.

I turned to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to do this. I really wasn’t just being catty when I said I had a lot on my plate. Work was picking up. I had a movie filming this summer. Chaz was moving in piece by piece. Jessa and I now did patrols around the city to find weak spots in the Veil between worlds. My schedule was packed.

But it was that damn kicked puppy look that got me. The way he would not match my eyes, the way his shoulders sunk. Why?

I could have sworn I heard a boot steps on the gravel. As Briggs and I looked over to where the elemental had fallen, nothing was left but a scuff in the dirt and a puff of dust.

I looked back up at the darkly clad man. It worried me how this huge man could look so lost. What worried me even more was that I was the only person he could turn to. A thought gleamed above all the crazy stories that usually ran around up there: I had to help them. The last prophesy of my mother’s. I needed to give them a direction because without one, they would perish.

Let me buy you a cup of coffee.

HE LOOKED UNCOMFORTABLE in the chair across from me. He kept moving like he couldn’t find the right spot. I was going to suggest that if he needed to circle to get comfortable, he could; it wouldn’t bother me any. But he probably wasn’t accustomed to my humor yet.

I watched you from that corner over there a few times. Briggs gestured to the convenience store across the street.

Why?

Spencer, he said as his eyes darted down to his black coffee. He told us to keep an eye on you when he couldn’t.

So you know where I live and where I work out and obviously where I get coffee? I swirled my second caramel latté for the day. Then why step in now?

You needed help.

From that pip-squeak?

He’s not just a pip-squeak, the man said as he leaned across the table. He was the son of one of Haverty’s closest cohorts. He is actually powerful enough to be a threat, not to mention determined enough.

Why do they keep attacking me?

It was a question I had been asking everyone else for the past two months, since the first attack. Chaz said that every pack was different, and Iris was eerily silent about how it used to work when she was in charge.

You killed the Primo of the Pride. Makes you the Prima of the Pride.

No, it doesn’t.

In this pack, it does. Makes you the Prima whether you like it or not. And the others are vying for your position. Which means they need to kill you to claim the title.

I began to spin my coffee cup on the table between us. What does that mean?

The man licked his lower lip and his eyes darted around the table like he might find that words hidden in the wood grain of the space between us. Haverty was grooming Spencer to take over. How to exchange powers, how to keep different breeds in check, how to manage the family business. Spencer was responsible for new recruitment.

I had to laugh.

What? the man asked confused.

His idea of new recruitment was snacking on me in a back alley.

The man didn’t smile. Still not used to my humor yet. Check.

I changed the subject. Talking about how many others wanted to kill me was leaving a taste in my mouth that the coffee couldn’t mask. How many of you are there in your little family?

Don’t remember from the alley?

Nice. He was catching on to the Violet rhythm of things. "Five.

Who are the others?"

Only four now. Nash, Shadow, and, of course, Tyler.

Tyler?

Briggs nodded. My little brother.

Crap, there was family involved. Family always made things more complicated. I leaned forward across the table and lowered my voice. And you’re all dogs, right?

He nodded again. Yay, yet another man who didn’t mince his words.

As I felt his low anxious energy across the table from me, my decision felt more solid. Give them a direction before someone else does. Okay.

Okay what? Briggs asked.

I’ll do what I can.

His eyes rose to finally meet mine. They were dark, wide, and brown, not doglike at all.

It’s not a great promise, I know. But I’ll try. And in return, I want something.

His eyes dropped to the table. I got the sinking feeling in my stomach that no one had ever given him anything that he didn’t have to pay for in some way or another. I didn’t want to be that, didn’t want to be any closer to Spencer than I knew I already was.

I need information, anything you can give me about how the pack works, how he did whatever he did.

Briggs ducked his head in a small nod.

But for starters, I want all of you fed and washed and clothed.

Didn’t think it was possible, but his head and shoulders ducked down a little further. We don’t exactly have the income for something like that.

Don’t worry about it.

The sentence stunned me almost as much as it stunned him. I usually wasn’t too free with my money, and I had just promised away an easy grand. Wasn’t like I had college funds to save for, and I almost owned the town house already. Had a nice little nest egg for something, might as well be for a Dallas version of What not to wear.

But let’s just talk first. All of us. Can you guys meet me at the Galleria on Thursday?

He nodded a sharp curt nod, like that of a military man. Yes, ma’am.

I winced at the title. I’ll meet the boys and you can fill me in on a few things.

Briggs looked confused for a moment.

What? I stood and put my bag on my shoulder again. I heard the distinct sound of plastic against plastic and my heart sunk. My computer warranty didn’t cover hurricanes.

I haven’t figured out the game yet, he said with a small furrow between his brows. You have to want something more in return than just information.

I shook my head. It’s something I need. And you’ll quickly find out, Mr. Briggs, that I don’t play games.

He licked his lips and looked down at the coffee he had used more as a hand warmer than refreshment.

So Thursday at the Galleria around two. I made it sound like an order. I knew he could take orders and frankly, this one was for his own good.

THE RUMBLE OF the Dodge Challenger as it pulled into the garage was unmistakable; it vibrated the entire house. I was the girl in the neighborhood with the rough and tumble boyfriend. All the women thought the car needed a new muffler. The men just drooled when he parked on the street. If only they knew how much he had actual paid for it to sound like that.

I was in the shower. When I’d gotten home, I still had the smell of Briggs in my nose and thought a shower with my scented soaps would get the chewed pig hoof out of my nasal passages. And even though it was healed by the time I got home, I didn’t want Chaz to see the dried blood on my shoulder. He was funny about things like that, me getting into fights on the playground, me bleeding, et cetera.

The crack in the door let in his scent before the offending chill in the air. God, I had missed that smell. His scent was beginning to fade from his pillow during this last trip of his. Despite the scalding water, my skin chilled in anticipation of just seeing him.

How pathetic is that?

Hello, London, he said as he stepped through the fog of my hot shower. He closed the door quickly.

Chaz wiped the steamy door and peered in.

Hello, stranger. I’ll be done in a minute. I leaned forward to rinse my face.

No rush.

I looked over at him just to see the outline of his shirt as he pulled it off and heard the clink of his belt as his jeans hit the floor.

He slid the glass door open for a moment and stepped in. His strong hands slid around my waist and he pulled me to his solid frame. I rested my head back on his shoulder.

This really isn’t fair.

I’m only doing my part to save the environment, he said into my ear before he began to kiss down my neck.

Right. You just want me to wash your back.

But I wouldn’t have wanted to change anything about that moment. I had missed him, missed him more than I wanted to tell him. My brain began to fog, and the world quickly faded into just him and me and our shower.

His hands began to slide around my slippery frame.

You have the best body, he whispered into my wet neck.

I twisted in his embrace and ran my hands up his perfect chest.

Just wasn’t fair that I had never seen him work out. He ran with me, on my slower days, but he didn’t skip meals and he didn’t pump iron. He was just made all muscley and rippley. Must be nice to be a Guardian. I had to get a mystical curse to lose fifteen pounds.

Chaz’s hazel eyes were content as they looked down at me. It had been ages since I’d seen his tell-tale furrow. Right now, he was happy. I could see that in his eyes and feel it in the heat below his waist.

Miss me?

Every moment.

Chaz kissed me slowly. The water ran down my back in steaming rivets, but all I could feel was the long line of his body, his tongue as it slid across mine. Parts below my navel tightened as his hand slid down my back and smoothly over my rear.

Soap from my shampoo began to taint our kiss, and I pulled back into the stream of water to rinse.

Let me, he offered. He wiggled and wriggled the soap from my long locks and smoothed it out as best as he could.

My turn? he asked as he reached for his loofah hanging on my organizer.

Gladly.

I rinsed my face once more in the stream, and we switched sides in the shower, slipping past one another slowly. I watched as he leaned back in the water, watched as it cut streams down his chest, his stomach, and even farther down. It was full-on, unabashed voyeurism.

I took his bar of soap and gathered up a strong lather on the white mesh. I started at his shoulders, gently guiding the suds over his tanned chest and down his long arms.

How was Vegas?

Pretty normal. Just some PR work and a shoot at the Palms. Think it might land me a few more jobs this year.

I stopped. Wait this was an underwear thing? I thought it was a Cause thing.

The creased started forming between his brows. But I was pretty sure it was because I had stopped caressing his torso.

I do more than just underwear, Violet.

So what was it this time?

His jaw clenched.

I smiled. It was underwear, wasn’t it?

Swimwear actually.

Teensey-weensies with polka dots?

But it’s not always.

Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.

He kissed my forehead, and I ran the sponge around his abs. My free hand traced the cut muscles of his upper chest and across the scar on his shoulder. He hadn’t yet told me the story of that one yet.

I ran the loofah in a low loop under his belly button. His entire body tensed and parts grew even happier to have the attention.

He stopped my hand from going any lower. Maybe I should get that part.

I swallowed and let him take the ball of suds from me. Still was the part of the deal that I could hardly bare. I reached for the handle to the sliding door. I think I’m done anyway.

He didn’t protest as I slid the door open and stepped out onto the white shag rug. I reached for my plush lavender towel and began to dry off.

It simply wasn’t fair. We had been looking for answers for two months. Iris was getting tired of us asking. No one could tell us if the panther could be passed on through sex, and there were no human and shifter couples to see how it would work out in the end.

For all we knew, there weren’t any bi-species romances at all because it never stayed a bi-species romance, shifting being a magical version of a communicable disease, passed on through scratches, bites, and potentially other bodily fluids.

The way he explained it was horribly romantic, which made the situation more unbearable. He wasn’t willing to risk our relationship until I had perfect control of everything, unlike the first and last time we’d been together, when I wasn’t exactly in control of much of anything. He wanted it to be just him and me; not him, me, and the cat.

Insert ahh moment here.

I understood. Considering his history, I was willing to wait. Well, I was willing to help him look for answers, but the waiting was getting harder and harder.

So this was the cost. The power to save the world, but not the ability to get down and dirty with my boyfriend.

I went into the bedroom and began to dress. I was still a little damp, but I wanted to be out of there by the time he got out. Out of sight out of mind, maybe. If I didn’t see his Michelangelo frame, maybe I wouldn’t miss it.

Yeah right.

We had made it work really, really well in the first month. I swear, it was like high school. We’d kiss and make out, and then make out with less clothes on and then take turns with less and less clothes, but a month ago, we hit a wall.

Where normal people in relationships were finally getting intimate, we were just holding hands because anything more was too painful. Like today. And then we stopped talking about it.

When I closed my eyes, I could still see him, still feel him, feel what it was like to lie bare skinned next to him. God, what it was like to nibble on his perfectly fleshy earlobe.

Now I wore long pants and tank tops to bed if he was going to spend the night because it was just too painful for either one of us to get too excited. I don’t know what he was trying to prove today.

I HAD ALREADY TOSSED his laundry into the washer and fixed him a grilled ham and cheese when he came down the stairs. We were at the point in a relationship that I could wash his clothes, but I couldn’t take them off.

You’re the best, he said as he flopped down at the kitchen table and ripped into grilled cheese.

Yeah. I hear that a lot.

So did you meet with those comic guys today?

Oh. I slid onto the kitchen counter and watched as he avoided what had just happened like the plague. Chaz was good at that. I wondered if it was part of his superhero package: quick healing, überstrength, superspeed, and the ability to leap over problems in our relationship in a single bound.

Yeah, and then I got attacked by a wind elemental and saved by Tucker Briggs.

He didn’t even flinch now when I said that. Two months ago, he would have been looking me up one side and down the other and asking a million questions. The police officer?

Apparently ex-police officer? I didn’t get the whole story.

Oh.

I’m meeting with them on Thursday if you want to come.

Chaz stuffed the grilled cheese in his mouth. What made you change your mind?

Why had I agreed to help them? Oh yeah, Tucker’s mastery of the kicked puppy look. Outside of the heroics, he can give me information about Haverty that Iris won’t.

But why now? They’ve been following you for two months?

I could only shake my head. I know I’m supposed to help them. I’m supposed to give them their direction and if I can manage to direct them toward the greater good, then kudos to me.

Chaz shoved the other half of the grilled cheese sandwich into his mouth and that was the end of that conversation.

MISS JORDAN? A soft voice asked from above me.

I had been enjoying a new book, curled up in the front of my coffee shop. Nothing, not even an assassination attempt, was going to stop me from having a decent cup of coffee while waiting for my noon appointment. I looked up from my reading and was met with a pair of doey dark green eyes.

Yes?

I’m Myers, the young man introduced himself as he sat down timidly on the chair next to me.

I didn’t sit up from my lounging position, just watched him. He was a tall thing and lean by the looks of his hands. He had brown hair that drooped down across his forehead. He kept his eyes just off mind as he settled in, his baggy jeans draping around his ankles.

What can I do for you, Myers? I asked, completely intrigued.

Yasmina sent me to you.

The name sounded familiar. Where had I heard it before? She wasn’t a contact from L.A. No one from the publishing company. She wasn’t a person that Jessa had ever mentioned.

He could see the confusion on my face.

She’s the elected leader of the Cause, he informed with a faint wrinkle in his brow.

Oh. Well then, that was interesting. That would make her Chaz’s boss. The head honcho. The one who sent Chaz to me in the first place. She was the one who Saw, capital S, the big picture.

Why did she send you? I asked, sitting up, coming closer to him. The sudden gravity of the conversation needed a little more privacy.

I have a problem. I’m hoping you can help me with, he said softly, his eyes studying me as I slid my shoes back on.

I knew that look. Slowly, so I wouldn’t completely freak him out, I brushed him, sending my energy around him. The breath of silk and magnolias moved the hair that almost touched his shoulders.

He sat up startled, but I’d gathered the answers I needed. A big cat, but not just another big cat. Another panther. It had to be the one I had heard about on the news. The whole town thought a cat had escaped out of the Dallas World Aquarium’s Mayan exhibit.

Since I was at Iris’s for the weekend, I was in the clear. For an instant during the news report, I thought it might have been Spencer returning from the Neveranth, but something in my gut told me he was still safely trapped on the other side of the Veil and his father wasn’t coming back from the kind of dead I’d made him.

What the hell? I asked myself.

What was that? he asked, frightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his long neck as he gulped nervously.

I stood. This was suddenly getting too weird for me. I didn’t know what was going on but I didn’t like it. Made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.

Excuse me for a second, I said with a forced smile and I grabbed my phone from the table between us and went outside to stand in the sunshine. Suddenly, I needed the heat of the sun against my skin.

I hit 3 and speed-dialed Chaz.

Hey, he answered. He sounded like he was on the road with his windows down.

I’ve got a problem.

What? he asked, and I could just see the furrow between his brows.

The Cause just sent me a case.

What? Who?

Some kid.

Is he . . . and his voice trailed off.

Yeah, I answered. He’s a panther.

What!

I know! So much for being one of the few, the proud—

Then you have to help him.

Why?

The line went silent for a moment. It was a selfish thing to say, I know. Without the Cause’s help, I would be a meal in the alleyway. But I had never signed on for this. I had enough of drama for nine lifetimes.

Because he was probably another snack.

I looked back in the window of my coffee shop. I’d been lucky enough to be under surveillance already when I was attacked five months ago because the Cause had a prophesy about me. What if Chaz hadn’t been there? What had happened to this kid? What if he was another midnight snack for Spencer too?

Still, the Cause must be hitting the bottom of the barrel if they are sending lost souls to me.

I guess I’ll go talk to him, I gave in under the boy’s piteous brown eyes. Can you call a few white hats to see who put him on the radar?

Will do.

I snapped the phone shut and watched the boy in the coffee shop, sitting there, his hands between his knees, his head still lowered. I couldn’t not help him. It was an annoying character flaw.

I walked back into the coffee shop and sat gracefully on the couch next to him. Grace

Reviews for Claws & Effect

[Maggy B. · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Excellent story! I love Violet. But please fire the copy editor. There are typos on practically every page.