by C. C. Hunter
“Perry, if he doesn’t want you going it’s because it’s too dangerous.”
“I know, but I have to do this.”
Fear for his safety and anger that he cared so little about it, curled her toes in her house shoes and pushed Mickey’s face into the dirt. “What if he’s right?”
Perry held the baby out to her. “Miranda, I’m begging you. I need someone to believe in me right now. No, not just someone. I need you to believe in me.”
He moved the baby closer. Using her casted limb, she cradled the infant in the crook of her arm. When it wiggled, she pulled it closer. It felt warm. But the air around them seemed to get colder.
She looked up at Perry. “I do believe in you, but … if something happened to you, I’d die.”
“Nothing’s going to happen! Part of the reason I’m doing this is to make sure you don’t die.” He ducked his head down and kissed her. A fast, but emotionally charged kiss.
Tears filled her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.” He ran a finger over her lips, still wet from his kiss. “Damn, I miss kissing you.” He kissed her again, this one just as sweet. Just as short. Just as powerful.
“I gotta go.” He morphed into his favorite prehistoric bird. His wings whooshed open, the breadth of their span more than six feet. Before she knew what he meant to do, he’d wrapped her and the infant in a warm hug. His feathers were soft as down and felt like a security blanket. A place nothing bad or evil could ever touch her.
It ended before Miranda wanted it to. His wings whooshed open. He bounced up into the air, and just before he took flight he said, “I’ll watch you until you’re in the gate. I love you. And … I love your Batwoman pajamas.”
The baby started to cry again and so did her heart. She held the infant close and watched Perry’s ascent. Tears filled her eyes. “I love you, too,” she whispered. And never until right now had she known it to be truer.
She was the gooey icing stuck to a wafer who bore the name Perry Gomez.
And that was wrong. Wrong to feel this way about one side of the cookie when you had the other side thinking you felt that way about him. Now all she had to figure out was how to break this news to Shawn without breaking his heart.
Yet, as high as this matter marked on her problem card, she took a second to reevaluate. The little problem she held in her arms took top priority.
How the hell was she going to explain the baby to Holiday and the quick-to-anger vampire?
She neared the gate. She looked up and saw the skyscape made up of blue, purple, and streaks of orange. In the forefront was a majestic creature soaring on the paint strokes of the sunrise.
She hesitated, giving him time to get away before she walked up to the gate. Pulling the child and his loose baby blanket closer, she looked at the camera, waiting for the ding of the gate to open.
She’d barely gotten a foot past the gate when the office door shot open.
Burnett blasted off the porch, becoming nothing but a blur until he stopped in front of her. Feet slightly apart, a frown on his lips, his eyes bright, he stared at her. “What are you…?”
The baby cried. The cold got colder. Burnett gaped at the wiggling infant.
“What the hell’s going on, Miranda?”
Footsteps sounded behind them. Holiday stopped beside her husband, her eyes widened.
“Who is she?” Holiday’s words created a cloud of steam that hung in the air.
“I think it’s a he?” Miranda pulled the blanket around the baby.
Holiday glanced at the child. “No, not the baby,” she said. “The ghost?”
Chapter Twenty
“Why didn’t you contact me as soon as you got the text?” Burnett had demanded.
“Because Perry asked me to come alone.” Whoever said the truth could set you free had never been asked questions by an angry vampire.
After an hour of drilling her, he’d told her she could go. Hand on the doorknob, she shamefully realized she hadn’t asked about her sister.
Miranda looked back. “Anything on Tabitha?”
He grimaced. “Not from a lack of trying, but Shawn got another lead. I’ll let you know when we hear something. Meanwhile, don’t keep things from me, got it?”
She rushed out before she was tempted to tell him everything. Oh, she’d shared everything Perry had said, and even about her crazy visions. The armadillo, however, she kept to herself.
Listen up. If you want me to help find your sister, you can’t tell anyone or …
But damn it, she didn’t know what to do. To tell, not to tell. Nothing made sense. Not a thing.
She took off in a dead run. Fearing … ghosts and … trees.
Flying into her cabin, she fought to catch her breath. Even her Mickey Mouses looked out of air. Chills ran down her back, but she no longer knew if they were from fear or from the presence of the ghost.
Holiday had surmised that the ghost was the baby’s mother—surmised because the spirit had never spoken before vanishing into the chill of the morning air.
“Is she gone for good?” Miranda had asked.
“We don’t know,” Holiday said. “Call me if you feel anything. And don’t worry.”
Right!
Shutting her cabin door, doing a visual of the room, she felt swallowed up by the silence. She puffed out air testing to see if steam rose. No steam.
How reliable was the steam test?
Frozen in one spot, she flinched when she spotted movement in the kitchen.
She almost screamed but recognized Chester attacking a dust bunny. A slight creak echoed from Kylie’s bedroom.
It was all the invitation Miranda needed.
Bolting into the room, she ran into the arms of a naked Lucas—with the exception of a tight pair of boxers—who looked totally embarrassed. Doing a high-speed U-turn, she barged right out. “Sorry.” She slammed the door.
The door swung right back open. “You okay?”
Miranda faced Kylie. “No. Is she here?”
“Who?” Kylie asked.
“I felt her earlier and didn’t know what I felt. I suspected because I felt it with you guys, but my mind wouldn’t let me go there. Now I don’t know if I feel it or if I think I feel it.”
“Stop!” Kylie held up a hand to silence her. “Slow down. Breathe.”
Miranda did.
Kylie moved closer. “Now. Are you okay?”
“You already asked me that.” She looked around again. “Is she here?”
“If you mean Della, no. Burnett sent her—”
“Not Della. The ghost.”
Kylie’s mouth dropped open and seemed to note Miranda’s pj’s. “You had a nightmare?”
“I wish.” Miranda moved and dropped on the sofa. “So, no ghost?”
Kylie looked around the room. “I don’t feel anything.”
Miranda sighed.
Kylie, being Kylie, came and sat down beside her. “Did you dream about ghosts?”
Miranda lifted her face. “No. She was real.”
“You saw a ghost?” The question had doubt wrapped around it.
“I never saw her … as a ghost. I just … felt her.” She shivered from the memory. “I think I heard her. I think she thought … Do I look like a person who would hurt a baby?”
“No.” Kylie’s eyes tightened. “You’re confusing me again. What baby?”
“Perry … he gave it to me,” Miranda said.
“You and Perry have a baby?” she asked.
Miranda’s mind ran so fast. “I gave it to Holiday. What’s crazy is that I saw it.”
Kylie took her hand. “Saw what?”
“I saw him kissing a girl. Then I saw her dead. I didn’t know it was the same girl. But she wasn’t a ghost when I saw her. It’s like I had a … front seat to a freaky slide show.”
Then Miranda remembered. “I saw Shawn with flowers.”
“So you dreamed that you and Perry had a baby and Shawn br
ought you flowers?”
“It wasn’t a dream!” Miranda said.
Kylie touched Miranda’s forehead as if checking her for fever. “We should call Holiday. This may be because of your accident.”
“Don’t call Holiday. She’s taking care of the baby.”
“That’s it!” Kylie said, sounding scared, and she stood up. “You and Perry do not have a baby.”
“I never said the baby was Perry’s or mine.” She frowned remembering. “I did think it might be his for a few seconds.”
Kylie’s eyes tightened.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just trying to figure it out.”
“If you have a concussion, it could be dangerous.”
“I don’t have a concussion. Sit down, please.”
Kylie did as Miranda requested, her weight had the sofa sighing. “So it was a dream.”
“It wasn’t a dream. Just listen.” She racked her brain to find a way to explain things in a way that didn’t sound crazy. It didn’t exist. It was crazy.
Taking one more deep breath, Miranda told Kylie everything. Well … she told her everything she’d told Burnett and Holiday. Again, the armadillo was her secret.
When she finished spilling her guts, Kylie sat there looking dumbfounded. Pretty much how Miranda felt.
“What did Holiday say about the visions?” Kylie asked.
“She said it could be related to the tattoo. But they weren’t really visions. Not like you and Della have. I’m not living it like you two say you do. There were images. Like a picture explodes in my mind. Then it’s gone.”
Their cabin door swung open. Swung so hard, it banged against the wall.
Della swooped inside and put her breaks on when she saw Kylie and Miranda on the sofa.
Della exhaled. “Did you tell her?” Della asked Kylie.
“Tell me what?” Miranda asked.
Kylie shook her head.
Della placed a hand on her hip. “Girlfriends don’t lie to each other.”
“Lie about what?” Miranda asked.
“Can’t do it,” Della said to Kylie. “He’s calling her pretty and bringing her flowers.”
“What?” Miranda asked.
Della focused on Miranda. “Look, I just hope the wafer you’re stuck on is Perry, because the other side of that cookie is flirting his ass off with another glob of icing.”
* * *
Perry flew hard and fast. He couldn’t miss the meeting. Most of the way, he flew as his favorite prehistoric bird, something close to a pterodactyl, but faster and better looking.
Realizing it was getting light, he started morphing into a peregrine falcon while flying. Then he noticed the thick brush that probably held thorns below and remembered what he needed to do. He landed.
His next stop was behind the Marriott Hotel where his father had rented a room. He morphed and checked the time. Five minutes after eight.
Damn. They might have left.
He noticed he had ten messages from his father, all wanting to know if he was okay. He hit redial.
“Perry? Tell me this is you, son,” his father answered.
“It’s me,” Perry said.
“He’s alive. Our son is alive!” his father’s voice piped through the phone.
The emotion he heard in his dad’s voice tugged at Perry’s heart. The silence from his mom, added a different kind of tug.
“Why didn’t you return our calls? We’ve been worried sick.”
He’d prepared for this question.
“That vampire nearly killed me. Luckily I was half morphed and it didn’t completely do me in. But I was no good for hours. I made it to my girlfriend’s place. I told her to text you, but she forgot.”
“You’re alive,” his father said. “That’s what matters. We’ll hunt that vampire bitch down later.”
“Yeah,” he said, not having planned for that. “What room are you in? I’m at the hotel. We’re going to Jax’s, right?”
“We left the hotel already. Why don’t you just lay low? I’ll explain it to Jax.”
Perry clenched his fist. “No. I want to do this.”
“You sure you’re up to it?” he asked. “He’s gonna want to see you at your best.”
“I’m up for it.”
“Okay, we’re at the diner about six blocks over on Jackson Street. But hurry, we’re supposed to be there at nine and Jax doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
“I’m on my way!”
Less than three minutes later, Perry walked through the restaurant door. He braced himself to see Caleb—knowing when he saw him, he’d want to kill the bastard. Right then. Right there. Even in a restaurant filled with witnesses.
He couldn’t do it. Nope.
If he wanted justice he had to be patient. But Caleb’s time would come. Perry had never taken a life, but this time might be different.
Still wearing the ripped and bloodstained shirt, mostly because he needed to carry off the story, he walked into the diner. The smell of bacon, eggs, and cinnamon French toast flavored the air and reminded him he’d skipped too many meals. He spotted his dad and mom in a booth. Alone.
How had he gotten so lucky?
Avoiding eye contact with worried customers, he went and sat in the booth across from his parents.
“You have no idea how good it is to see you.” His dad smiled. So did his mom. But it looked as fake as the pink stuff she was sprinkling in her coffee.
“Do you need to eat something? We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we have to leave,” his dad said.
The waitress came by carrying a cup of coffee. “Coffee?” She stared at his shirt.
“Motor oil,” Perry said, but he wasn’t sure it looked convincing with his battered face. “And yes, I’ll take the coffee. Thank you.” Caffeine wasn’t his friend, but he needed something.
Perry ordered the fastest thing on the menu, and she walked off. He focused back on his parents. “Where’s the other guys?”
Pride beamed from his father’s eyes. “Jax sent Chuckie and Mark to finish something. Caleb no longer works for Jax.”
Perry’s mind scrambled to take it all in. Mark had gone with Chuckie. Perry needed to let Burnett know. Trying to play it cool about the Caleb information, Perry sipped the bitter coffee. “What happened with Caleb?”
“I talked to Jax,” his father said.
“That’s not the only reason.” The sound of his mother’s voice said she drew pleasure from chipping at her husband’s pride.
“Maybe not all of it.” His father frowned and focused back on Perry. “But when he found out the FRU had been called because a girl was dead, he was livid. He told Caleb to pack his shit and run because he was sending guys after him.”
Perry set his cup down.
His mom spoke up. “Jax doesn’t take shit from anyone.” She looked right at Perry, almost as if she was warning him.
Two thoughts hit and not about the warning. One: Perry hoped Jax did him the favor of killing Caleb, but then how would Perry know for sure? He personally needed to know that Caleb paid for killing Bell. Two: How was it his mother seemed to know Jax so well? Perry had assumed his father was the one with the connections. Had he assumed wrong?
His father forked another bite of his French toast. “It made things worse that the girl Caleb killed was Jax’s ex-girlfriend.”
His father’s words bounced around Perry’s head. Shit. Was Jax the father of Bell’s baby? And if so, would he go looking for him?
His father picked up his fork and went in for another bite of his French toast. His mom pushed his dad’s plate back. “You’re gonna get fat. And I have to see you naked.” She snatched his fork from his hands.
Perry waited, hoping his dad would tell her where she could put the fork.
He didn’t.
His mom nudged her hardly touched plate of French toast away. “She wasn’t Jax’s girlfriend, just some slut he’d screwed. And she was stupid to jump into a fight with shape-shift
ers.”
Her words were like a hot poker hitting every nerve Perry owned. “She was the security. It was her job.”
“Then she was an idiot taking the job. Everyone knows vampires can’t control shifters.”
Perry took in a deep breath. “She’s dead. It’s disrespectful to speak ill of her.”
“I only said the truth.” She smiled as if annoying Perry made her happy.
He swallowed the emotions clogging his throat. After several beats of silence he spoke up again. “You sound like you know Jax well.” Faking calm he didn’t feel, he turned his coffee cup.
She looked at his father. “You haven’t told him?”
His father shrugged. “Not yet.”
“What?” Perry picked up the cup, staring at them over the cup’s lip as he took a sip.
“Jax is your half brother,” his mom said.
Perry choked on the hot liquid sliding down his throat.
He set his cup down a little hard and the hot liquid sloshed over the mug’s lips.
“You’re joking.” He grabbed a napkin to soak up the mess.
“No,” his mom said. “I had a baby a year before I met your dad.”
Perry took in air. “I don’t remember a brother.”
“His dad kept him,” his mom said as if that didn’t reflect badly on her at all.
What? Your first child’s daddy refused to abandon this one? Cynicism filled Perry’s chest. At his mom. At his dad. Then came a realization—equally disturbing.
Not only was Perry going to put his mom and dad away, he’d be taking down his half brother. Damn it! Any more family members to destroy?
Then another thing occurred to him. The baby, Bell’s baby, could be Perry’s nephew.
The waitress dropped Perry’s pancakes down. He took a few bites, but noted the blood on his shirt again, and his appetite went south.
“Should we get going?” he asked his father.
“Eat, he just lives two blocks down Jackson.”
His mom’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. “Speak of the devil. Hi son.” She looked at Perry as if he would be jealous. “We’re on our way.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Perry could hear Jax talking, but couldn’t distinguish his words.