by C. C. Hunter
Easy? Was she freaking kidding? This is life or death.
“Stop that!” She glared at the woman’s hand. “And there’s no taking it easy!” Even to her own ears, her tight, tantrum-like tone sounded a bit like Della. Which was okay, because the situation called for her to be a bit of a smartass. Face it, smartasses were like squeaky wheels—they got the oil. “You go find out how she’s doing right now and see if Kylie is here and then we’ll worry about me.”
“Has she been belligerent this whole time?” the nurse asked the paramedics as if belligerent were a medical condition.
And right then Miranda’s belligerentism shot up all the way to smartassism. She raised up on her good arm, to show she wasn’t completely helpless. “Look, do what I say or I’m going to be your very last patient, because I’m gonna be such a pain in your ass, you’ll quit after me.” Natural instinct had her shooting the nurse a pinky.
The nurse stumbled back, her bright blue eyes rounded in fear. Amazingly it seemed the finger that did it. Immediately, Miranda checked the woman’s pattern, and sure enough the woman had a trace of witch in her DNA. Probably only 5 percent, but enough to know the power of the pinky.
Turning around she called out to someone. “Find out about the last patient that came in, a Tabitha Evans, and see if there’s someone here to see her.” The nurse looked back at Miranda. “Better?” Fear paled her cheeks.
“Better.” Miranda slumped back on the stretcher, eyes closed, heart breaking. She felt one tear slip from the bottom of her lashes and the heat of it stream down her cheek. Keeping her eyes shut, she prayed to God, the Goddesses, and everything holy that all of this would one day just be a bad memory and not the worst day of her life. Because if she lost Tabitha …
* * *
Time passed in a blur. Miranda had been x-rayed, examined, evaluated, and stripped. Instead of jeans and her favorite green flowing blouse, she wore a backless hospital gown. None of which made her happy. The news that her sister’s vitals were improving was the only thing holding Miranda together. But as time crept past, the hold started weakening like reused tape.
Waiting for the doctor to set her cast, Miranda tried to relax. The shot a nurse had stuck in her rump was making her groggy.
“Feeling better?”
Miranda opened her eyes. It was the nurse from earlier, the one who had a pinch of Wicca DNA in her.
“My sister still doing okay?”
The nurse nodded. “And your … friends are here, too.”
“Kylie?” Miranda tried to sit up.
The nurse gently rested her hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “Just relax.” She paused. “Is she the blonde?”
“Yes.” Knowing the cavalry had arrived made emotion hug her chest, and she fought the need for tears.
The nurse leaned in. “What is she?”
Miranda hadn’t known if the woman, with so little supernatural DNA, could read patterns or not. But obviously she could.
“A chameleon.”
The woman’s round eyes blinked in surprise. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one. Can they really go invisible?”
Miranda nodded. “Has she visited with my sister?”
“Not yet. At least not that I’ve seen, but if she can…”
“She needs to,” Miranda said. “She’s a healer. You have to make sure—”
“Shh.” The woman nodded. “I’ll see to it. But your sister is doing much better now. She came out of the coma. She still has a little swelling in the brain, but she’s conscious. And she’s just as worried about you as you are her.”
“Can I see her?” Miranda’s throat tightened.
“Not yet. When your arm is set.” She paused. “The others … the two vampires…” The nurse’s tone grew hushed. She glanced over her shoulder as if she thought someone might sneak in. “They’re your friends, too?” Disbelief widened her eyes and fear dilated her pupils.
Miranda nodded. The fact that the world could be so prejudiced against certain supernatural species still shocked her. Of course, that was why Shadow Falls existed. To help supernaturals realize that different didn’t mean deadly. Good and bad existed in each and every species.
“Burnett James works for the FRU? He’s the best—”
“Yes, I know, he showed me his badge. He’s still scary if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask.” A protective tone deepened Miranda’s voice.
“I didn’t mean … He told me about the camp. I’d heard there was one, but I’m new in Texas and didn’t know it was here in Fallen.”
“It’s okay.” Miranda closed her eyes and reminded herself that before she’d started going to Shadow Falls, she’d pretty much been afraid of other supernaturals as well. Thank God her mom had enough insight to know change needed to happen and sent her to be educated at the camp. God help her, but she couldn’t imagine her life without her friends at Shadow Falls. Kylie and Della, though they shared no blood, were as close to her as Tabitha.
The thoughts of her mom had Miranda recalling her parents were in Colorado at one of her father’s boutique hotels. Had Burnett called her parents? Had Tabitha’s mom been notified? Miranda’s heart squeezed at them learning of her sister’s condition.
“I really need to see my sister.” Miranda started to get up. The nurse put her hand on Miranda’s shoulder.
“You can’t just yet,” the nurse said. This time something in her voice made Miranda suspicious.
“You’re lying to me. She’s not okay!” She drew in a shuttered breath, her emotions becoming a lump of pain in her chest.
“No, I’m not lying. She’s in room six and she’s doing well.” She looked over her shoulder again.
“I don’t believe you!” Miranda held her pinky up. “I want to see Burnett James. Now!”
The nurse’s frown deepened. “They won’t let them come back just yet.”
“Who won’t let them?” Miranda asked.
“The police.”
The two words bounced around her sore head. “The police? Wh … why?”
She leaned closer. “They want to question you and your sister before they let anyone back to see you. And the doctor won’t let them question you until your arm is set.”
“Why do they want to question us?”
She hesitated as if she’d been given orders to keep her mouth shut, then she finally spoke. “The drugs.”
Chapter Four
“What?” Miranda asked.
“In the house,” the nurse responded.
“What house?”
“The house that blew up was a … drug house. They think you and your sister are involved somehow.”
“Drug house? They think…” Miranda shook her head. “No. An old witch lived there. She read fortunes. She wasn’t … And I’m not…” Oh hell!!!
“I’m not saying I believe them, I’m just saying … that’s what’s going on. Mr. James is super pissed. It’s chaos out there right now. It’s probably just a big mistake.”
It had to be. Miranda closed her eyes. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere. “Now, I need to clean your arm so we can give you some shots to numb you. Unfortunately, I’m assuming the alcohol might mess up your henna tattoo.”
That had Miranda opening her eyes. She’d forgotten all about that. Lifting her head, she glanced at her arm, and a little gasp caught in her throat. The limb was swollen, slightly purple. The tattoo, a pale grayish pink, came halfway up to her elbow. It was bigger. Wasn’t it? Then again, it had happened so fast.
She couldn’t help but wonder what it meant. Did it tell her if Shawn was the right man for her? Did she even want to know? No. Yes. Maybe. “Where’s my phone?”
“With your clothes, why?”
“I’d like to take a picture of it.” Maybe later, she’d have the courage to see if anyone could tell her what it said, what it meant. If it meant anything.
The old witch might have been pulling a hoax
. Miranda really didn’t believe that now, but she wanted to. Her heart grew heavy again, realizing the witch might be dead. Sure, Miranda had tried to get her to leave, but she could have tried harder.
She couldn’t help but wonder if the death angels, the angels overseeing the supernaturals, were going to hold Miranda accountable.
The nurse found her phone and snapped a few shots of the pattern on her arm. Then she gently went to rubbing Miranda’s arm with astringent-scented wipes. Just the slightest touch set the bone to aching and Miranda closed her eyes and repeated a calming mantra.
“Maybe I didn’t need to take a picture of it,” the nurse said. “It’s not coming off.”
Miranda tilted her head and stared at the tattoo. “It has to.” Her mom did not like tattoos.
“Oh!” The nurse’s touch jerked away from Miranda’s arm, fear rounded her eyes.
“What?” Miranda asked.
“Your tattoo is climbing your arm and down your fingers.”
“Oh, friggin’ frack!” Miranda lifted her head and watched as the squirrely lines snaked up to her elbow and down to her knuckles.
How long was this thing going to be visible?
She racked her brain to recall a curse or a significance to the pattern but came up empty.
Was she going to be covered in this crap? The inky pattern moved another inch before it stopped.
Stopped, but for how long?
What the hell did this mean?
Panic pulled at her chest and then she remembered that Tabitha had gone to the fortune reader before, and she didn’t walk around with a permanent tattoo. Surely it would fade.
“Okay.” A white-coated pale-faced doctor walked into the room with fake cheeriness. “Why don’t we get you put in a cast, so the cops and your friends out there will calm down? The mouthy brunette out there, I swear if she could, she’d wring my neck.”
Little did the doctor know—if the brunette who he referred to was Della—she’d have no trouble wringing his neck. Not that this was Miranda’s biggest concern. She had a moving tattoo, a semi-conscious sister, and possibly some drug charges to get out of.
The doctor’s neck was his own problem.
* * *
“Don’t you ever question my orders again!” Caleb, morphing from bird to man, screamed at Perry as the three of them landed behind a wooded lot at the side of the three-bedroom house they’d rented while doing jobs in the Dallas area.
Caleb shot forward and slammed both of his palms on Perry’s chest. Perry didn’t budge. In the last year, he’d spent hours making his human form as powerful as he could. It would take someone more than this asswipe to knock him down.
He stood square and firm, and fought the urge to get in the man’s face. The temptation to morph and give the jerk a real fight shot adrenaline into his blood. But the intensity didn’t compare to what it had been at the bank when Caleb threatened an innocent girl. A girl who had reminded him of Miranda.
For that low-life action, Perry had a bone to pick with this guy, a freaking big one, but everything in his gut said “not now.” In part because he didn’t need to be tossed out of the group just yet—his objective wasn’t complete—but mostly because at this second he had something else to do.
His heart demanded it.
He had to check on Miranda. That feeling, the image of her lying lifeless hadn’t stopped digging at his soul. Would she even answer his call? Probably not.
He’d have to call someone else.
“Did you hear me!” Caleb lurched forward as if to come at him again.
Perry held up one hand and promised himself that soon, soon he’d teach this guy a lesson he wouldn’t forget. “I heard you. But if we hadn’t left we probably would’ve been arrested.”
“Hell no! We could have turned at any time and left them scratching their asses!”
“And bring the FRU down on us?” Perry tossed out. From the corner of Perry’s eye, he saw his father had completed his turn.
“Perry’s right!” his father, running his hand through hair that was still as blond as Perry’s, added his two-cents’ worth. The fact that those two cents were on Perry’s side felt better than it should.
“We had to get out of there!” The frustration in his father’s bright eyes echoed in his posture.
Was his father’s anger because he felt something for Perry or simply because Perry was right? Not that it mattered anymore. He couldn’t change this now.
The image of Miranda flashed again. Perry started walking away, but his father’s next words brought his steps to a halt.
“We get made as supernaturals, and it’s over. How many times has Jax said that?”
Who was Jax? Perry turned around.
His father, looking ready to morph into something badass, stared daggers at Caleb. “Are you friggin’ forgetting his rules?”
Jax? Rules? Perry stored the name. So his father did know who was really behind this? The realization landed with a thump against the sore spot in Perry’s heart. How many times had his father told Perry he knew nothing? And damn it, but Perry had wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that his father wasn’t in so deep that the price would be too high.
“Don’t start with me old man,” Caleb yelled, his eyes now glowing yellow. “You don’t have what it takes to do this job.”
“I’m doing just fine,” his father barked back. “It’s you that’s screwing up, taking too many chances. You and you alone are going to bring the FRU down on our asses! The human police we can outsmart, the FRU, not so much.”
Perry didn’t move, listening, hoping to hear something else, but then his wounded soul rushed right back to Miranda. Was she really hurt?
He walked away from the side yard to a patio where he might have some privacy.
Pulling out his phone, he glanced back to confirm he wasn’t being monitored. Caleb watched him like a hawk—always suspicious. And for good reason. They hadn’t stayed off the FRU’s radar without being careful. But they hadn’t been careful enough.
Perry was going to bring them down. The whole damn gang, his parents included, just as soon as he knew who the whole gang included.
He pushed his phone’s contact button then remembered he’d deleted all his numbers as soon as he’d learned his dad’s job included robbing banks. Not the end of the world, he knew the numbers by heart. The ones that mattered anyway!
He dialed.
The phone rang once, twice, then three times. What the hell? Burnett James always answered his phone. Especially when he had a beef with you. And right now Burnett had a big one with Perry. He’d ordered Perry to return to Shadow Falls. The man was just too protective. And not just as a camp leader or a training agent with the FRU.
Perry and Burnett had been in the same foster home for about six years. When Burnett turned eighteen and left the home, he’d pretty much left everyone behind, everyone but Perry. He would come to see him at least twice a month. It had been Burnett who had arranged for him to go to camp Shadow Falls.
Perry knew Burnett was letting their relationship cloud his judgment. And Perry hadn’t even told him everything that was going on, just that there was some criminal activity happening. Burnett still had ordered Perry to back away, telling him he was too close to it because of his parents.
But Perry wasn’t walking away. This might be his one chance to really prove himself to Burnett. To the FRU. And maybe even to himself.
The call went to voicemail. “Leave a message,” Burnett’s recording said.
Something had to be wrong. Bad wrong.
He inhaled and fought the urge to take flight toward Fallen, Texas, to see if his stupid vision was just his mind playing tricks on him, or if … if something had really happened to Miranda.
He hung up, his finger lingering over the keypad to punch in the next number. His heart said to go right to the source, to call Miranda, but his heart wasn’t running on logic. He’d screwed up with her. Royally.
It wasn’t fa
ir for him to go to her. She had his number—if she’d found it in her heart to forgive him, she’d call.
She hadn’t called.
But not once since he’d left had he stopped hoping she would. Like a lovesick little boy he’d slept with his phone close to his bed. Anytime his phone had been out of hearing range, even for a few seconds, he came back, holding his breath checking for missed messages.
She hadn’t called.
He knew she was dating Shawn Hanson, a warlock, someone of her own kind, someone more deserving of a girl like Miranda. But damn it, he’d worked his ass off this last year to try to be the type of person to deserve her, too. And at times, he actually felt he’d accomplished that feat, but then he’d mess something up, fail to meet up to his own expectations. And he’d start questioning it all over again. Questioning if he could ever be deserving of her.
Oh, she thought less of herself because she was dyslexic, but he didn’t care about her powers. Or that she occasionally made goofs. He loved her, goofs and all.
She was so much more than she gave herself credit for. She could just look at him and make him smile. She could touch him and make him feel more alive. She could stand beside him and he wanted to be a better person for her. Because she believed in him, he wanted to believe in himself.
She loved people. Loved them unconditionally.
Even when they weren’t deserving.
And he didn’t want to be that—didn’t want to be another person in her life she had to sacrifice for because she loved them. He wanted to be the person she needed. The person she could lean on. Count on.
But … She hadn’t called.
Exhaling, he punched in another number.
“Perry?” Holiday James, Burnett’s wife and owner of the Shadow Falls Academy, answered immediately. While he’d always looked up to Burnett like a big brother—Holiday had taken on a different role.
Emotion swelled in his chest from hearing her voice. She’d been the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had. Like Miranda, she infused in others the need to be the best they could be. No one wanted to let Holiday down.
He suddenly felt stupid for panicking—as if his crazy thoughts could actual mean something. “Hey … I just … wanted to talk to someone from home. I tried to call Burnett and it went to voicemail. That’s strange, right?”