Panther Prowling Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE OTHERWORLD NOVELS

  “Yasmine Galenorn creates a world I never want to leave.”

  —Sherrilyn Kenyon, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Erotic and darkly bewitching . . . a mix of magic and passion.”

  —Jeaniene Frost, New York Times bestselling author

  “Yasmine Galenorn is a hot new star in the world of urban fantasy.”

  —Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author

  “Yasmine Galenorn is a powerhouse author; a master of the craft who is taking the industry by storm, and for good reason!”

  —Maggie Shayne, New York Times bestselling author

  “Spectacularly hot and supernaturally breathtaking.”

  —Alyssa Day, New York Times bestselling author

  “Simmers with fun and magic.”

  —Mary Jo Putney, New York Times bestselling author

  “Yasmine Galenorn’s imagination is a beautiful thing.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Galenorn’s gallery of rogues is an imaginative delight.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Pulls no punches . . . [and] leaves you begging for more.”

  —Bitten by Books

  “It’s not too many authors who can write a series as long-lived as this one and make every book come out just as interesting and intriguing as the last, but Yasmine Galenorn is certainly one of them . . . Her books are always enchanting, full of life and emotion as well as twists and turns that keep you reading long into the night.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Explore this fascinating world.”

  —TwoLips Reviews

  “As always, [Galenorn] delivers intriguing characters, intricate plot layers, and kick-butt action.”

  —RT Book Reviews (four stars)

  Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn

  The Otherworld Series

  WITCHLING

  CHANGELING

  DARKLING

  DRAGON WYTCH

  NIGHT HUNTRESS

  DEMON MISTRESS

  BONE MAGIC

  HARVEST HUNTING

  BLOOD WYNE

  COURTING DARKNESS

  SHADED VISION

  SHADOW RISING

  HAUNTED MOON

  AUTUMN WHISPERS

  CRIMSON VEIL

  PRIESTESS DREAMING

  PANTHER PROWLING

  The Indigo Court Series

  NIGHT MYST

  NIGHT VEIL

  NIGHT SEEKER

  NIGHT VISION

  NIGHT’S END

  Anthologies

  INKED

  NEVER AFTER

  HEXED

  Specials

  ICE SHARDS

  ETCHED IN SILVER

  THE SHADOW OF MIST

  FLIGHT FROM HELL

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn

  GHOST OF A CHANCE

  LEGEND OF THE JADE DRAGON

  MURDER UNDER A MYSTIC MOON

  A HARVEST OF BONES

  ONE HEX OF A WEDDING

  ***

  Yasmine Galenorn writing as India Ink

  SCENT TO HER GRAVE

  A BLUSH WITH DEATH

  GLOSSED AND FOUND

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  PANTHER PROWLING

  A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2015 by Yasmine Galenorn.

  Excerpt from Flight from Death copyright © 2015 by Yasmine Galenorn.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.

  JOVE® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  The “J” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-14196-4

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Jove mass-market edition / February 2015

  Cover art by Tony Mauro.

  Cover design by Danielle Abbiate.

  Map by Andrew Marshall, copyright © 2012 by Yasmine Galenorn.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Dedicated to:

  Meerclar, my own little black panther.

  It’s been a long run, pumpkin.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to everyone who has helped me get to this point:

  Samwise: my lover and consort. Meredith Bernstein: my agent. Kate Seaver: my editor. Tony Mauro: my cover artist. Marc Mullinex, Andria Holley, and Jenn Price: my assistants. My furry “Galenorn Gurlz”: my feline brigade. Ukko, Rauni, Mielikki, and Tapio: my spiritual guardians.

  To my readers: Your support by buying my books helps keep me writing. You can find me on the Net on my site: galenorn.com. You can also find an Otherworld Wikipedia on my website.

  If you write to me via snail mail (see website for the address or write via the publisher), please enclose a stamped, self-addressed envelope with your letter if you would like a reply.

  The Painted Panther

  Yasmine Galenorn

  CONTENTS

  Praise for the Otherworld Novels

  Titles by Yasmine Galenorn

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Cast of Major Characters

  Glossary

  Playlist for Panther Prowling

  Letter to the Reader

  Special Excerpt from Flight from Death

  About the Author

  War is the trade of kings.

  JOHN DRYDEN

  Clever tyrants are never punished.

  VOLTAIRE

  Chapter 1

  “Do you think she knows what we’re up to?” Menolly fretted.

&nbs
p; She hiked herself up onto the counter of the newly renovated Wayfarer Bar & Grill and leaned back on her hands, swinging her legs. The bar had been rebuilt, revamped, and revitalized, and tonight we were going to rock the block with a grand reopening party, welcoming back—we hoped—all the regulars who had made the Wayfarer their local watering hole. The doors opened in twenty minutes and we were just killing time as the staff finished last-minute touches, which included sorting out a massive number of balloons for Camille’s birthday, which also happened to be today.

  I sat on one of the barstools, absently flipping through a book I’d picked up at the pet store: How to Take Care of Your Mouse. I had no plans on raising pet mice anytime soon—that idea could too easily turn into a disaster. No, my friend Misha, a mouse who had helped me out in a sticky situation, had just died. I wanted to look after her children . . . and her children’s children. The micelings were still frightened of me, but I’d managed to keep my promise to her and never once had chased after her extended family when I shifted into cat form.

  “Probably. Camille makes it her business to know everything about everybody. She can’t help it. It’s the control freak in her. You know that by now. So, did you have any luck finding a new guard?” The portal to Otherworld downstairs needed constant watching, but Menolly had recently gone through a turnover in staff and now was shy not only an evening bouncer, but someone to watch over the portal during the morning shift.

  She grumbled. “Not yet, and it worries me. I don’t like leaving just one person on duty—not after what happened to the bar. But there’s nothing I can do. At least Derrick and I can take care of tossing out the troublemakers during the evening shift until we find someone, though.”

  Hunger pangs hit my stomach and I ran my tongue over my teeth. I’d just had them polished and the dentist had been a nervous wreck the entire time. Even though he was Supe-friendly, my fangs were sharp, and while not overly large, they didn’t retract like a vampire’s. Slicing a finger open would be all too easy. I could feel him tense up the entire time he was checking through my mouth.

  Occasionally I cut my tongue on them, but I figured that was all part of being a werecat. What was really dicey were blow jobs. Shade and I had worked out a system where I managed not to hurt him most of the time, but in the end, it was easier to focus our attentions on other forms of love play, given the risks.

  “I’m hungry, you have any snacks in this joint?”

  Menolly leaned over and flicked my nose. “Doofus. I’m surprised you aren’t packing a candy bar. Go check near the birthday cake in the kitchen—we have plenty of cupcakes and one or two won’t be missed. We won’t be firing up the grill till it’s officially opening time, so if you want, grab yourself one . . . or some nuts from the bar.” She smiled and let out a satisfied laugh. “Kitten, I can’t tell you what a relief it is to actually have a decent grill to go with the name.”

  Before an arsonist had torched it, the Wayfarer Bar & Grill’s kitchen had been barely passable. The cook had managed a few simple things like fries and burgers, or grilled cheese, or cold sandwiches. Standard dive food: filling, but nothing to write home about.

  During renovations, Menolly had consulted with the architect and they’d redesigned the entire joint. She had commandeered the upper floor and ditched her attempts to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. Instead, they’d relocated the kitchen upstairs, added an elevator, and revamped the staircase to make it user-friendly. A dumbwaiter and intercom system completed the cooking arrangements. They’d gutted two of the bedrooms in order to create a large private meeting room, to be rented out as needed.

  “Are you going to miss having a bed-and-breakfast?” I glanced around. While the outside of the building looked the same—red brick, old, and historic—inside, the Wayfarer had a far different feel than when we’d first come Earthside and Menolly had started working as a bartender for her cover job.

  “No, I don’t think so. I barely had one anyway. The bar had its charms, but now it’s my vision, through and through.” She glanced around, a satisfied look on her face. “As painful as the fire was, at least I was able to rebuild and put my own stamp on it.”

  She bit her lip, drawing a drop of blood with her fangs. That they were showing told me she was stressed. Vampires had retractable fangs and they only came down during hunger, arousal, or stress. I knew she was thinking about the lives that had been lost during the fire but I said nothing. No use in scraping an open wound.

  The walls were covered with postcards and wine labels, and the bar itself was polished to a high sheen, as were the bar stools. Two large tables, each seating up to ten people, took center stage. The booths had been rebuilt, their upholstery now a supple black leather. All the tables on the floor were new, the wood was a deep mahogany, rich and warm.

  Menolly had asked the contractor to build a dance floor, and to replace the antiquated jukebox, she’d installed satellite radio. Large-screen televisions were mounted on the side wall of the bar for the sports freaks who occasionally came in—she kept the sound off, but they were continually running different games.

  But despite all the Earthside trappings, everywhere I looked, I could see touches from Otherworld, giving the Wayfarer an exotic feel. Star crystals from the mines of the Nebulveori Mountains. Woven lattice tapestries from the shores of Terial, the Eastern Port on the Mirami Ocean. And sand-cast urns holding dried flowers, potted from the dunes of the Sandwhistle Desert. The Wayfarer Bar & Grill had become a beautiful hybrid between the two worlds.

  “Well, I approve of the kitchen. I approve of anything to do with food.” I reached out and ran my hand along the red brick of the wall. There was a lot of brick in this building, and together with the warm wood and muted lighting, it gave the bar a cave-like feeling, but in a cozy, protected manner.

  Menolly sobered. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think that I could rebuild as a bed-and-breakfast. No matter how much people say the deaths weren’t my fault, I’ll never be able to forget.” She gave a quick nod toward the new waitress. “I just hope she works out.”

  I followed her gaze. Jenny was an FBH—full-blooded human. Camille had met her at Broom Stix, a magic shop, and Jenny had taken Chrysandra’s place as head waitress. She was a good worker, eager to learn, and just as eager to be out of her stepmother’s store.

  “She’ll do a good job. She’s sincere. But I’m surprised you hired another FBH, given Chrysandra . . .” I stopped at the stricken look on my sister’s face. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t think.” Great, I was just making things worse. I had a knack for opening mouth, inserting foot.

  After a moment, Menolly shrugged. “What can I say? Her death will always weigh heavy on my shoulders. Especially at the end.” She flinched. “But you’re right, Jenny will do a good job. She’s smart, personable, and sassy enough to handle the customers. The vamp crowd will love her.” She glanced at the clock. “So when does the birthday girl arrive?”

  “Camille and Smoky are supposed to be here in about ten minutes. Smoky said he’d have her here right before the opening. They’ll come in the back, so the crowd out front doesn’t swarm in behind them. You have a fan club waiting, you know.” I jerked my finger toward the front of the building.

  “I’m surprised anybody’s showing up. The final count was twenty-five deaths, you know. Including vampires.” Again, the haunted look.

  I wanted to wipe away the memory, to wipe away the guilt Menolly felt, but there was nothing I could do. Only time would help her sort out everything that had happened.

  So instead, I forced a bright smile. “Well, I’m not surprised. People love this place. And they love you.” I reached out, patted her hand. The coldness of her skin had ceased to bother me. She was my sister, even if she was a vampire.

  I wasn’t lying. There was a crowd out front. A number of vamps—I assumed they were vampires by their pallor—had shown up to show their support for
the Wayfarer. There were also a number of Weres and Fae. All in all, there must have been fifty people outside, waiting in the rain-soaked January evening.

  But tonight was more than the reopening. Tonight, we’d planned a special surprise. Since it was also Camille’s birthday, Smoky had volunteered to keep her occupied while the rest of us decked out the bar for both the reopening and her party.

  “I’m not so sure about this, Delilah. You know Camille isn’t much on surprises. You think we can pull this off without a hitch, given our track record?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Our parties always suck. Why should this time be any different? At least this time nobody’s hired a stripper.”

  It was sadly true that we seldom had people begging us to throw another shindig. But it was also true that there was no stripper in a fringed G-string for me to attack as my fluffy-butt tabby self. Although the balloons were mesmerizing, I could keep a handle on myself unless the ribbons were left dangling. Then all bets were off. Candy in front of the baby time.

  Shade sidled up to me and slid one arm around my waist. He nuzzled my neck and I planted a kiss on his cheek. We were officially beyond the honeymoon stage, and had been together almost a year and a half. But as I leaned my head against his side, the warmth of his musky scent quickened my pulse. I’d never experienced this kind of love before we met. He was sweet and funny, and sexy in that easy, comfortable way. And I could be myself around him.

  Shade reached into his pocket for something, but at that moment, Jenny came scurrying out from the back.

  “Your sister is here.” Her eyes were wide. Camille had cowed her at one point, and Jenny still seemed to be scared of her.

  “Thanks, we’ll take it from here. You go ahead and finish checking all the booths and tables to make sure everything is ready.” Menolly jumped off the bar. She glanced around. “Everybody here?”

  I counted. Trillian and Morio were in the corner—Camille’s other husbands. She had three of them and they were all very happy together, if at times a little loud.

  Vanzir and Roz were playing darts together. We called them the demon twins because Vanzir was a dream-chaser demon and Roz was an incubus, and they liked to hang out together, like a couple of slightly demented frat boys. Hanna, our housekeeper from the Northlands, and Maggie, our baby calico gargoyle, sat at a table with Iris and Bruce.