The Contestant Flies Off the Handle

by Heather Horrocks

  The teenagers raced off, still playing, and he stepped forward with Cara still held close to him. Right where she belonged.

  Jingle Belle Noel turned toward them and smiled. “Well, hello, Isaac. And who is this with you?”

  “Cara O’Sullivan. She’s Miss Ireland from the pageant.”

  “Hello, Cara from Ireland.”

  Cara gave a valiant smile. “Hello.”

  Jingle studied the pretty witch, and said, “I know just the thing for you today. I have my Berry Happy. It’s loaded with sunshiny goodness guaranteed to lift your spirits. Lavender, rose, St. John’s Wort, three types of berries, plus a little pixie magic.”

  Cara managed a smile. “That sounds great, though I’m a little shivery for shaved ice.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll adjust the temperature to be perfect for you.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “Part of the pixie magic,” Jingle said, and went to work.

  She made two snow cones, a red one and a green one. When she was done, she handed the red one to Cara, and the green one to him. “This will help with excess raw emotions.”

  Wow. This little pixie was good. He paid her. “Thanks, Jingle.”

  “Anytime.” Jingle smiled at Cara. “Good luck in the pageant, sweetie.”

  “Thank you.” Cara took a bite of her snow cone — and smiled. “Hey, this is warm! Your magic really works.” She took another bite, then said, “I feel better already!”

  They walked around the park, finding an unoccupied bench to sit on. By the time Cara was finished, she was smiling — and his lifemate buzz was manageable. Thank goodness for Jingle.

  He’d really blown it on the cruise. Cara’d been there with him, feeling the same romantic feelings as he had — and he’d scared her off.

  He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Good luck making the top ten,” he said, reaching out for her hand again.

  She held his. “Thanks.”

  Leaning forward, he risked another slap by pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet and gentle, and the buzz pulsed in his heart.

  When he pulled back, he smiled. “I’d better get you back so you can get ready.”

  She didn’t slap him. He counted that as a victory.

  The First Shall Be Last

  THE SURPRISINGLY GOOD FEELING FROM Jingle’s snow cone had lasted through most of the day, for which Cara was grateful.

  After Isaac dropped her off at the Wildwood Hotel, Cara had barely had enough time to shower, dress, fix her hair, and apply enough makeup to hide her light sunburn before the luncheon — curse her light Irish complexion!

  Katherine was already in the banquet room and looked as fantastic as ever.

  Cara’d been ravenous enough to go back for seconds. She’d talked, and even enjoyed the MC’s corny announcements.

  Afterward, they’d moved to the smaller ballroom where all the costumes and gowns were kept to prepare for the first dance number and then the ballroom gown portion of the pageant.

  She’d kept up during the dance number and now was back in the ballroom looking for her gown. The emerald green gown wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Panic flickered through her. The top ten finalists were being chosen tonight — she had to have her ball gown or she couldn’t go out there!

  Mariana flipped through the gowns, too, looking for hers. When she reached the end, her brow furrowed. “My dress isn’t here.”

  “Neither is mine.” Cara checked again. Still no emerald green ball gown. “What do we do now?”

  Mariana motioned to Cara’s purse. “Pull out your phone and call Isaac. He’s in charge of things here, isn’t he? And I’ll go find Fern the Ghost and tell her about our problem.”

  Cara didn’t want to call him. She was becoming far too dependent on Isaac Murphy. Hadn’t she learned her lesson on the cruise? But she had to get her ball gown back — in the next hour — or else neither she nor Mariana would have a chance of winning. She had no other option; she pulled out her phone. “Okay.”

  Mariana went off in search of their ghostly guardian

  When Isaac answered, she said, “Isaac, this is Cara. Some of the ball gowns are missing. Mine and Mariana’s. We need help finding them.”

  He paused, then said, “I’ll ask one of the werewolves to come sniff them out. Their noses are better than our vampire noses.”

  “Thank you.”

  By that time, Fern the Ghost was tut-tutting over the rack of gowns. She turned to the crowd of women and bellowed, “Attention, ladies,” at an ear-splitting level. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at her, floating above them. “Two ball gowns are missing, one emerald and one maroon. Have any of you seen them?”

  The women shook their heads while Miss Texas said, “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, start looking. If these two women don’t have their ball gowns by the time of the competition, no one will go out.”

  That got the girls to moving and chattering and searching.

  They all worked their way down toward the far end of the ballroom, searching every rack and every container, then started working their way back.

  When they reached the original rack where the gowns hadn’t been before, there they were, hanging so the fronts of the dresses were visible.

  Her emerald green gown — with a tear in it — hung right next to Mariana’s maroon gown — also with a tear.

  Mariana touched the rip. “Oh, no.”

  “Stand back,” Cara said, “And let me work a little magic.”

  Mariana stepped back while Cara lifted her wand and chanted a spell. There were no Disney woodland creatures to pull the needles and thread, but the tears mended anyway.

  Mariana hugged her. “Thank you!”

  “We’re not going to lose because someone played an ugly prank on us.”

  “Who do you think did it?” Mariana asked.

  “You want my honest opinion?” When Mariana nodded, Cara whispered, “I think ’twas one of the other contestants. Otherwise, why would they have reappeared after Fern the Ghost made her pronouncement that no one could go out if we didn’t?”

  Mariana frowned. “One of us? That stinks.”

  “Truly, it does.” Cara looked around the room at the forty-eight other women milling around. “It stinks to high heaven.”

  Cara stood on the stage with the other forty-nine contestants, at least as anxious as the rest of them. After all, her family’s magical heritage was on the line.

  She took a deep breath. This was it. The first culling of the beauty contestant herd.

  They’d come out in their ball gowns one by one, each when her name was announced. Each girl would hold a pose while the audience clapped, then move on to make room for the next contestant.

  Now it was time to announce the top ten finalists.

  Her stomach clenched in nervousness. She had to make it into the top ten, if she was going to make it into the top five tomorrow, in order to have a chance to win.

  Her palms were sweating and she resisted wiping them against her beautiful ball gown. Instead, she stood straight and smiled brightly.

  The MC lifted his microphone to say, “And now it’s the time we’ve all been waiting for. For up to ten years, these girls have been looking forward to competing in this prestigious competition, and now the journey is over for forty of them.” He motioned to the contestants and turned to them. “You’ve all been magnificent and have brought honor to your families, packs, prides, and clans.”

  Turning back to the audience, he asked, “Are you ready to know who the finalists are?”

  The crowd cheered, while Cara thought, Hurry, hurry, hurry, I can’t take much more of this!

  A pretty blonde came onstage carrying The Envelope. She handed it to the MC, who tore it open and let the envelope flutter to the floor as he held the card with the names on it. “The first finalist is ... Miss London. Augusta Quigley, please join us.”

  Augusta’s face shone wi
th happiness as she passed by and strutted down to where the MC and the blonde stood.

  “Miss Germany, Ghost of Wartburg Castle. Johanna Wagner, you’re our second finalist.”

  The excited ghost flickered in and out of existence as she floated to the front.

  “Miss New Orleans. Antoinette Fontaine, come down now.”

  The voodoo witch grinned broadly and waved to her supporters as she sashayed down the ramp to the front of the stage.

  One by one, the MC called women’s names, as Cara’s hopes faded.

  Miss Brazil, Gabriela Santos.

  Miss Texas, Riley Garcia.

  Miss Canada, Mia Tremblay.

  Miss China, Liling Djackson.

  With each name, Cara’s heart fell, even as she was glad for Augusta and Riley and Liling.

  Miss France, Céline Dumont.

  Miss Transylvania, Mariana Lupei.

  Cara was especially pleased that Mariana had a chance to win.

  With nine women on the stage and forty-one hoping her name would be called, Cara’s stomach was filled with butterflies. A cloud of butterflies, making her dizzy. This was it, the moment where she either moved on — or was done except for participating in the final dance number day after tomorrow.

  “This is certainly an anticipatory moment, isn’t it?” the MC said, in an amused voice.

  Cara wanted to bop him on the head — and forty other women probably did, too.

  “Our final top-ten finalist is..." He paused and then said, “Miss Ireland. Cara O’Sullivan, come join us.”

  Isaac watched as an obviously thrilled Cara walked down to join the other winners of this first round. He clapped and cheered with the others.

  Her face was beaming with happiness and she had never looked more beautiful to him than she did at this moment.

  He’d watched her touch the hands of her friends as they were called before her, supporting them even though she had to be nervous about her own chances. Still, she thought to reach out and offer them support.

  She was beautiful inside and out. She was so much more than he’d thought she was.

  He loved her. Now just to convince her she loved him, too.

  Cara and the others in their suite celebrated while Belinda, who was not one of the top ten finalists, went to bed early.

  Augusta paraded around saying, “I was called up first of all. That means I’m going to win.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” Riley tossed a pillow at her.

  When there was a knock on the door, they quieted. Was it past curfew? Cara hadn’t been paying attention.

  No, it wasn’t eleven yet.

  “Who’s going to answer it?” Liling asked.

  “Riley,” Augusta said. “As punishment for throwing pillows at innocent people.”

  Riley shrugged and rose gracefully to her feet from the couch. She looked through the peephole and turned back. “There are deputies out there.”

  “I hope nothing’s wrong,” Cara said.

  “It can’t be good,” Liling said.

  “Open it,” Cara said.

  So Riley did.

  “I’m Sheriff Samuel Winston and these are two of my deputies, Larry Knight and Nicholas Noel. May we come in?”

  “What’s wrong, officers?” Riley asked, but she did open the door. “Were we being too loud? Because we thought the walls were soundproofed.”

  “You weren’t too loud.”

  The sheriff was a big man, and so were his deputies.

  The women all stared at the officers.

  “Tonight we learned that the person who stole the runestones was getting help from one of the Wildwood employees, a leprechaun, who had quite a bit to tell us.”

  Augusta took a step back.

  “We need to speak with each of you,” the sheriff said. “Please tell me your names.”

  As they did so, Cara watched Augusta take another step back. Why was the other woman so nervous?

  The sheriff said, “Miss Quigley, we’d like to start with you.”

  Augusta took off running, startling everyone except the deputies. They were ready for her, grabbed her, and put some kind of restraining spell on her. She lay still, breathing heavily.

  The sheriff said, “I certainly hope the rest of you aren’t going to be so hard to work with.”

  “No, sir,” Riley said. “But why have you hogtied her?”

  Cara pointed at Augusta. “What’s going on here?”

  Sheriff Winston looked at Cara. “Your family was the rightful owner of the stones that were stolen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will tell you that Augusta Quigley has been tracked by Deputy Noel. Her scent was on the stones. Now we need to question her. But the leprechaun told us that Miss Quigley had bribed her to get the codes to get into the case so she could steal the stones. She was also instructed to turn off the security cameras at the time of the theft.”

  Disbelieving, Cara stared down at the witch from London. “Augusta was the thief?”

  “We learned that the warlock who won the stones away from your grandda three years ago has a gambling problem — and he lost them in another gambling game. Now he wants them back. But he can’t get them back for the same reason your family can’t — they don’t belong to him any longer.”

  “But she’s one of the top ten finalists,” Mariana said.

  “She is hereby disqualified. It will be announced on KBAT within the hour, and the young lady in question is being informed right now. Miss Lebanon, Nour El-Khoury, will replace Miss Quigley as a finalist.”

  “And the first shall be last,” Riley murmured.

  Augusta scowled.

  Cara was stunned. Augusta had stolen the runestones. “Were you also the person who went through my belongings after I arrived?”

  Augusta glared at her, but Cara thought she saw the truth in her eyes. Augusta had been the guilty one. She must have learned about the family’s connection from the warlock.

  The warlock! Was he the one she and Isaac had seen Augusta talking to in the park?

  She might never know, but she would bet it was. Probably the same one who’d cheated her grandda.

  Are You Always This Dense?

  THE SIXTH DAY OF THE pageant was as busy as all of the days preceding it.

  First, they’d had a fancy breakfast in the Wildwood’s Penthouse Buffet.

  Afterward, the second talent show had started in the ballroom. This show was being held today, the day of the Full Moon, so that everyone’s powers would be at their highest.

  It had increased Cara’s earth powers immensely, and she’d done well in her talent. Last time, she’d tamed a unicorn. This time she’d cast a spell on a frog and turned him into a handsome prince. For five minutes. Everyone had loved it. She’d even kissed him — the prince, not the frog — just for show.

  She’d caught glimpses of Isaac here and there, but hadn’t spoken with him.

  The main topic of conversation was Augusta’s disqualification, but everyone stopped talking about her the closer it came to the Full Moon Party. It was being held on the hotel’s roof so they could see the moon. It might cause a few werewolf changes and howls, but it would be an amazing view.

  They wore evening dresses, not ball gowns, and filed in for the ceremony that announced the top five finalists.

  Once again, she was a bundle of nerves. The stress was causing several of the women to lose their smiles — including, Cara suspected, herself.

  Mariana stood beside her and said, “I hope we both make the cut.”

  Cara looked at her friend. “Do you have to change during a full moon?”

  “Only if I want to,” Mariana said, though her eyes glinted more gold and green than usual.

  The roof was decorated in golds and silvers, and the MC took his place in the spotlight and picked up the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is an important one for our pageant. Last night we chose ten finalists — and then an eleventh when one of the original
ten couldn’t fulfill her position. Now we narrow the field down even more. Tonight we will learn who our final five ladies are.”

  The same blonde brought up an envelope, and Cara again resisted the urge to wipe her palms on her dress.

  The MC raised the card and smiled. “Take a deep breath, ladies. You look nervous and there’s nothing better for that than a couple of deep breaths.”

  “All right. The first finalist is Mariana Lupei, our lovely werelion from Transylvania.”

  Cara squeezed Mariana’s hand, and then her friend glided gracefully to where the MC stood.

  “The next finalist is Cara O’Sullivan, the beautiful earth witch from Ireland.”

  Relief flooded her. She’d made it! And she didn’t even have to wait until the last minute to find out like she had last night. She walked up on surprisingly wobbly legs.

  “Meow.” Cara saw Shadow sitting at the edge of the stage. Congratulations. She smiled at him. Thanks.

  “Next is Riley Garcia, the sultry vampire from Texas.” After a pause, he went on. “Then Céline Dumont, a luscious pixie from France.” Another pause. “And our last finalist is Gabriela Santos, a lovely shifter from Brazil.”

  As the other ladies joined Mariana and Cara on the platform, Cara caught Isaac’s eye in the crowd. Her heart fluttered at the look of pride in his eyes.

  Nat found Cara and brought her a plate with a chocolate cupcake, a brownie, and a chocolate chip cookie on it. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, but I thought I couldn’t go wrong with chocolate.”

  “Most gracious of you, Nat. You’re absolutely right about the chocolate.”

  “I have three sisters. I know what women want.”

  She picked up the cookie and took a bite. It was soft and still warm, and tasted delectable.

  “You looked great up there. I think you have an excellent chance of winning.”

  “Best not be saying that in front of your sister.”

  “I’m safe because all five of you have an excellent chance of winning.” He chuckled.

  The band started playing and Nat asked if she’d like to dance. He spun her around the dance floor a few times through two songs, then led her back to her plate of chocolate.