Midnight Hour

by C. C. Hunter

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” his mom said. “You didn’t think it was yours anyway.”

  Oh, hell! Was Jax trying to find the baby?

  “Okay,” his mom said. “Why?”

  Why what?

  “What time?” She paused. “Fine, call me with details.”

  She hung up. “Jax can’t make it today. He wants us to meet him tomorrow. He’s going to let us know where and when later.”

  Perry took another sip of his coffee, his mind racing. First order of business was losing his parents.

  “If we’re not meeting him, I’m going back to my girlfriend’s.”

  “You don’t want to try to find that vampire?”

  Perry had to think fast. “I already went back there, turned wolf and caught no scent.”

  “But if we both went…”

  “It wouldn’t help. Right now I want a bath and to get out of these bloody clothes.”

  His mom stared at him as if suspicious. She leaned in, her hand snaking across the table at him.

  He jerked back. He suffered from her touch last night, he didn’t want to do it again. “What?”

  “Show me where the vampire bit you?”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “A mother’s concern.” She smirked. “Show me.”

  He sat back. “You’re not worried about me. You think I’m lying, don’t you?”

  Her eyes went cold. “Yeah. And so did Caleb. So open your shirt and prove to me you aren’t here to start trouble.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Miranda had slept the rest of the morning. Thank the Godesses she woke up ghostless, tattooless, and armadilloless. She’d checked the temperature. She’d checked her arm. And she’d checked under her bed.

  On second thought, she wished the armadillo would show up and help her find Tabitha. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, she talked to the creature in her mind. Since it had spoken telepathically to her, maybe it could hear her, too.

  No answer came back.

  Rolling over, she grabbed her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a text or call. Maybe one from her mom. Tabitha. Maybe Perry telling her he was okay.

  But nope. Nothing.

  Sitting up, she considered calling Shawn. But to say what? The whole thing about him flirting with some girl messed with Miranda’s mind.

  Her mind, but not her heart. Her heart was with Perry.

  Still, she felt … betrayed.

  Her phone rang. She answered it before she checked the screen.

  “Hello?” She waited to hear the caller’s voice.

  “How are you feeling?” Holiday’s caring tone ran through the line.

  Miranda inhaled. “Fine. You got news? About Tabitha or the tattoo?” She’d take either, but preferred sister news.

  “No, an old professor of mine, half witch, who has studied everything Wiccan, still hasn’t called back. I just called to … check in.”

  “And ask if I’ve seen a ghost?” Miranda said.

  “That, too.” Guilt colored her voice. “Have you?”

  “I just woke up. It’s not cold.” She pushed her leg out from the covers, retesting the temperature. Ghostless. “How’s the baby?”

  “He’s fine. Such a cute little guy.”

  “Really,” Miranda asked. “He looked like a grumpy ol’ man without his teeth.”

  “Burnett said the same thing. That’s just a stage.” Humor filled Holiday’s voice.

  “What are you going to do with him?” Miranda asked.

  The silence filled the line and it seemed to mean something. Miranda just didn’t know what. “You’re not handing him over to a foster home, are you? Perry said—”

  “No. Burnett’s checking to see if his mom had family.” She paused. “Another reason I called is … I know you’ve got a ton of stuff to worry about, but … next Monday you are going to have to retake the SAT. The cutoff for this has come and gone. I’ve begged for this retake. I don’t think they’ll give you any more time.”

  Miranda balled the sheet up in her hand. “I know.”

  “If you want I can get you a tutor—”

  “No, I got it.” She bit into her lip. She knew how hopeless this was. “As a matter of fact, I should go study now.”

  Hanging up, she swallowed a knot of frustration. The reality of her situation rolled over her like a cement truck. She wasn’t going to college with Della and Kylie.

  She tossed her pillow to the ground. “I hate being stupid.”

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, nose in an SAT study guide, Miranda read the same paragraph three times. Why wasn’t any of this sticking? Why was she even trying?

  A knock came at her bedroom door.

  “Yeah?” Miranda asked.

  The door whooshed open. Della stood there, dressed in don’t-mess-with-me black.

  “What?” Miranda snapped.

  “Are you studying?” The vamp’s surprised tone hit Miranda in her sore spot.

  “No, I’m dancing. What does it look like I’m doing?” A lump of pain swelled in her chest. Her two best friends were going to move on with their lives and Miranda wasn’t.

  The vamp frowned. “Still mad at me about—?”

  “I’m not mad!”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger,” Della said. “It’s Shawn who—”

  “I’ve got so much crap on me right now, I don’t care about Shawn!” That wasn’t altogether true, but in the big scheme of things, Shawn didn’t rate.

  Della smirked. “When are you gonna learn you can’t lie to vampires.”

  “Go away.” She couldn’t handle this right now.

  Della didn’t move. “I was going to offer to help you study.”

  “I don’t want your help.” Miranda clutched a handful of sheet.

  “Don’t be silly!” Della struck a pose against the door frame. She always looked badass. Smart and strong. Couldn’t Miranda be just one of those?

  Miranda tossed her extra pillow at her. “Go. Away. Go bump uglies with Chase.” Miranda held up her pinky, the only badass move she had.

  Della didn’t go. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Burnett thinks if Perry contacts you, you’ll try to sneak off without telling him again.”

  Burnett didn’t trust her. That hurt. Then again, she was keeping the armadillo from him. “Then just leave my room!”

  “Why don’t you let me help you study? I’m good at it.”

  “And I’m not! Is that what you’re saying?” Feeling small, inadequate, she did the only thing she could … she got mad. “Have you ever had a rude, hurtful thought in that blood-sucking brain of yours that you kept to yourself in lieu of offending someone?”

  Della stood there staring, her mouth dropped open. “Yeah. Right now.” She swung around and shot off.

  Tears filled Miranda’s eyes. She was gonna lose her two best friends. Was that why she seemed to be purposely pushing them away? So it wouldn’t hurt so much later?

  Before Miranda could blink away the tears, Della shot back in. “I wasn’t trying to offend you! Believe it or not, I care.”

  She shot out again.

  Miranda took in another shaky breath. The vampire shot back in.

  “That’s why I offered to help you study and that’s why I told you about Shawn! And I know it hurts, but if you found out that I knew this and hadn’t told you, you’d be pissed at me. Hiding things like a cheating boyfriend goes against the girlfriend code of ethics. So can we just … hug and make up?”

  The lump of pain in Miranda’s chest liquefied, and she wanted to cry. Della hated hugging. The fact that she’d do it for Miranda said how much the vampire cared.

  Miranda brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m … I’m not mad at you for telling me about Shawn. And yeah, you’re right, I do care. And that’s crazy, because … because you were right last night, too.”

  A smile filled Della’s eyes. “I’m always right, b
ut … what was I right about last night?”

  “Your cookie analogy. I’m stuck on Perry and I’m going to break up with Shawn—somehow—but knowing he’s buying someone else flowers still hurts. I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

  Della dropped on the bed. “Not terrible. Just a little sadistic.” She chuckled.

  When Miranda didn’t laugh, Della continued. “Look, it hurt when I thought Steve was seeing someone, too. And I was stuck on Chase, so it’s not just you. Just because we don’t love them, doesn’t mean we don’t want them to love us. It’s not right, but … look at us, how could anyone not love us?”

  This time Miranda laughed.

  Della picked up one of Miranda’s books. “Let me help you.”

  “I don’t think anyone can help. Nothing’s sticking!” She palm-butted her head.

  “We could sing,” Della said.

  “Sing?”

  “Yeah, you know, make up songs about whatever you’re learning. My mom did that to help me. Like that poem song…” She started singing. “In fourteen ninety-two Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” She hesitated then started again. “Derivatives, derivatives.” She snapped her fingers and wiggled her butt with absolutely no rhythm. “It’s so fun, it’s one prime two plus two prime one.”

  Miranda fell back on her pillow, laughing harder. “You can’t sing worth a flip. I finally found something that Della Tsang sucks at.”

  Della put her hand over her heart. “What, are you saying my dream of a musical career isn’t going to work out?”

  When the laugher ended, she looked at Della. “Did Burnett really tell you to shadow me?”

  Della nodded. “But don’t be mad. It’s his peculiar way of saying he loves you. He’s worried for your safety.”

  “Why does everyone treat me like I’m helpless? I helped save Tabitha in Paris, didn’t I?”

  Della stood from the bed as if arguing required standing. “Yeah, but that was almost like an accident.”

  “An accident?” That stung like fire ants. “So anytime I do something right, it’s an accident?”

  Della hesitated before speaking, something the vampire seldom did. “I didn’t mean … What I meant was that … sometimes you goof.”

  “So now I’m a goofer. For your information, I’m goofing less and less.” Miranda recalled what she’d done in the hospital room to her father and mom, and Tabitha’s mom. And right then she realized how true her statement was. With a little work, she might even be badass. She might never understand calculus, or get a high score on the damn SAT, but maybe she’d overcome her dyslexia where her powers were concerned. It would be really nice to know she didn’t suck at everything.

  Della frowned, not so much a pissed-off frown, as a guilty one. “I didn’t call you a goofer.” Standing in the middle of Miranda’s room, she held up her hands. “And yes. You are getting better, but if someone popped into this room to hurt you—”

  “I’d do this!” Miranda wiggled her pinky and a cage suddenly appeared around Della.

  The thrill of success made Miranda’s chest feel lighter. The fact that she’d done it so effortlessly surprised even her. Not to mention the caged vampire.

  Della frowned and with tight lips and bright eyes, she pulled the bars apart, stuck her head out, and glared at Miranda. “Now what?”

  Feeling extra confident, she wiggled her pinky and another cage fell, this one made of heavier metal.

  Della growled and yanked the first set of those bars farther apart, slipped out, and was about to start on the second.

  “Wait for it.” Miranda smirked and held up her pinky.

  “Don’t do it!” Della hissed.

  The door to the cabin opened. Della sniffed the air. “Kylie, you’re right,” Della called out. “Miranda’s losing it.”

  “What? Did she say I was losing it?” Miranda asked.

  Kylie appeared at the door and saw Della prying her way out of the cage. “Oh, crappers. I’m scared to ask.”

  “Did you say I was losing it?” Miranda spit out.

  Guilt clouded the chameleon’s expression. “I said I was worried you were losing it when you thought you had a ghost attached.” She looked back at Della. “What’s this?”

  “I’m just proving a point,” Miranda said. “And I’m not losing it. Thank you very much.” Or was she? Maybe she had to lose it before she found a way to make things right.

  “What point?” Kylie asked.

  “That I’m not helpless.” Miranda frowned. “I could maybe even help you guys find Tabitha.” The second the words left her lips, she knew how much she wanted that. She was so damn tired of waiting on the sidelines. She wanted to do something, not sit like a knot on a log and wait for someone to feed her information.

  “You want to work for the FRU?” Della asked, making it sound like a joke.

  “Maybe.” Miranda glared at her. It sure as hell didn’t seem like college was an option.

  “Seriously?” Kylie said.

  “You two don’t think I could do it, do you?” Their lack of faith hurt. “I could. I could be good at it.”

  Della exhaled. “You might be able to zap a cage, but what if someone grabbed you. What if there’s more than one and they come at you. You can’t say, please don’t stab me with that knife while I work up a spell. And you don’t know how to fight.”

  They were right. But … “Then teach me.”

  Della shook her head. “I don’t know if…”

  “Kylie was taught,” Miranda interrupted her, looking at the chameleon, hoping she’d take Miranda’s side. “You never thought you’d be able to fight, but you learned. Burnett even takes you on missions.”

  “I kind of did learn.” Doubt still clung to Kylie’s words.

  “See,” Miranda said, ignoring the doubt.

  Della shot Kylie a wide-eyed gape. “Don’t encourage this.”

  “Pleeeease!” Miranda said. “Kylie knows I’m making perfect sense.” When Della didn’t look convinced, Miranda added, “What would it hurt?” And just like that, Miranda latched on to her new goal. She was going to learn to fight.

  “If it’s the ghost you’re afraid of, then fighting isn’t going to help,” Della said.

  “It’s not that. Look, even if I don’t ever work as an agent, I should be able to protect myself. I’m tired of feeling”—less than—“afraid.”

  Kylie looked at Della. “She’s right.”

  Della’s expression softened and Miranda let out a yelp. “When do we start?”

  The vampire didn’t appear too thrilled. “You’ve got a broken arm.”

  “I can still learn. And besides, it should be off in a few days.”

  “You just got it.”

  “Witches heal fast, too,” Miranda informed her.

  “Okay,” Della said. “We can do this, but—”

  “I don’t like buts,” Miranda said.

  “Well, you are going to have to deal with this one.” Della spoke with sass.

  Miranda sent the girl the stink eye.

  The vamp and chameleon looked at each other as if they were on the same mutual mental wavelength. One Miranda hadn’t been invited to join. Probably because the only ones accepted were smart people.

  “What’s the ‘but’?” Miranda asked.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Just tell me already,” Miranda demanded.

  Kylie spoke up. “For every thirty minutes you spend learning to fight, you spend twice as many studying.”

  Miranda’s backbone stiffened. Were they trying to murder her newfound dream?

  “I like it,” Della said.

  While Miranda had pretty much accepted she wouldn’t be going to college, saying it hurt like a zit on her nose. “Look, I don’t think this is going to be a shock to you.” Her throat tightened. “As a matter of fact, I’ll bet the reason you’re both doing this is because Holiday told you I wasn’t going to make the grade. But I just don’t think I have what it takes to … make the grade.”<
br />
  “Now that’s a bowl of rainbow-colored shit!” Della said.

  “It’s not.” Miranda’s sinuses stung with the need to cry.

  “Della’s right,” Kylie added. “Although I don’t know about rainbow-colored, but it is shit. You can do this.”

  Miranda felt one tear slip from her lashes to her cheek—a little wet, a little warm, and a lot woeful. Swallowing, she said what had to be said. “I’ve tried, guys. You think I want to be left behind? You think I like being … stupid?” More tears slipped. “I can’t do it.” Now her nose started running. Using the sleeve of her pajamas, she wiped it. Her breath shook, but she looked up. “I barely scored thirty percent on the first test.” She fist bumped her head. “It’s not here.”

  “You are not going to be left behind.” Della’s eyes brightened to a vampire pissed-off green.

  Kylie agreed and wiped a few tears off her own cheeks.

  “I’ve tried.” Miranda appealed to them.

  “No, you’ve quit trying,” Della snapped. “You just said you don’t think you’re going to make it.”

  “What do you think I’m doing with these books on my bed? Having sex with them?”

  “If you are, you’re faking it.” Della grabbed one of the books. “You just refused to let me help you study. Why? Because you’ve already thrown in the towel. Who is it that said, if you think you can, you can, and if you think you can’t you might as well shit in your cheerios.”

  “I don’t think that’s what they said.” Kylie, still teary-eyed but now almost snickering, dropped on the bed and took Miranda’s hand. “But Della’s right.”

  “I’m always right,” Della said.

  “You aren’t,” Kylie said to the vamp. “But I admit you’ve got a lucky streak going.” She looked back at Miranda. “You’ve kind of thrown in the towel. I understand how hard it is, but if you want this, you’ve got to fight for it.”

  “We’ll help you,” Della said. “I’ll teach you songs.”

  Miranda wiped her tears away again, but more fell. She glanced at Kylie and pointed at the vampire. “She can’t sing worth a crap.”

  Kylie laughed. Della laughed. And Miranda finally followed in.

  A few minutes later, they all three lay crossways on the bed, and Miranda had agreed to their terms—agreed to retrieve the towel she’d thrown in the proverbial dirty clothes hamper of her life, the one containing all her other failures.