Touch of Sibyl

Chapter Sixteen

Oh no.

I didn't know exactly what the panther was, what kind of mythological nightmare it had sprung from, but anything out here in the dark that had teeth that big wasn't going to be friendly.

As if reading my thoughts, the panther let out something that sounded like a low chuckle, like it was laughing at me. The evil hiss made my breath catch in my throat and my blood run cold. The panther smiled, showing me its teeth again, and then crept closer to me on paws that were bigger than my hands were-with curved needle-sharp claws to match. They clicked against the stone patio with every step the creature took, like the second hand on a clock, ticking down to my death.

I stood where I was. Partly because I was terrified and was pretty sure that my knees would buckle if I even tried to move. But also because I'd seen enough nature programs on TV to know that I couldn't outrun the panther. And, of course, I didn't have any weapons to try to fight it off with. Even if I'd had a sword, I doubted I could have used it.

For the first time, I wished that I'd paid more attention in gym class when Coach Jack and the other instructors had been talking about this sort of thing and showing us how to kill Chitauri bad guys. But then again, I hadn't actually thought that any of that stuff was actually real. But I was fast becoming a true believer. Because this creature? It was very, very real, and I could tell that its teeth and claws were very, very sharp.

The panther prowled around me in a loose, wide circle. Its mouth turned down, almost in a pout, and it seemed disappointed that I wasn't going to run away. Or scream, at the very least. Its tail, which was at least three feet long, twitched back and forth in what seemed to be annoyance. Or maybe anticipation. I didn't know. I'd always been more of a dog person.

I cleared my throat, and the panther stopped and flicked up one of its rounded ears. Listening.

"Um, nice kitty?"

The panther's eyes narrowed, fire blazing in the red depths, and it let out that hissing sound again. No, no, no. Not a nice kitty at all.

The panther stalked off to the far side of the patio. As soon as its back was turned, I reached down and picked up the biggest remaining piece of the smashed statue that I saw. I waited a second, wondering if I'd get a flash off the stone, but I didn't. Or maybe the feelings and images just couldn't penetrate my own cold panic right now.

I didn't know exactly what the statue had been shaped like, maybe a gargoyle. Whatever it had been made to look like, the creature had horns, one of which I was holding. I wondered if the point would be sharp enough to penetrate the panther's skin. Probably not. For the first time, I wished for a Valkyrie's strength or an Amazon's speed or a Spartan's skill with weapons-something, anything that would help me. That would save me from getting ripped to pieces. Sweat slicked my hands, and I struggled to hold on to my pitiful weapon.

The panther reached the edge of the patio and stalked back toward me. Its black nose quivered in its face, and its lips curled back into another smile. Yep, it was definitely smelling my fear. I reeked of terror.

The monster grew tired of playing its little stalking game, because it sank down onto its back haunches, getting ready to leap up and kill me--

The panther sprang, and I felt something ram into me. I closed my eyes, waiting for claws and teeth to tear into my skin. But instead, all I felt was my shoulder slamming into the stone floor and hands moving over my body, like they were searching for something.

"Give me that," a voice muttered in my ear.

Someone yanked the stone horn out of my hands, and I opened my eyes. What was happening? Why wasn't I dead yet? I looked up to find the last person I'd expected standing on the balcony between me and the panther.