Midnight Hour

by C. C. Hunter

  Was that wrong?

  Maybe? Probably. Hadn’t she gotten angry at her mom for wanting to do the same thing? She waited for the you’ve-done-wrong feeling to hit.

  No hit.

  Heck, with everything so wrong in her life, maybe her moral compass was on the fritz. Nothing felt right.

  Except Perry.

  He was the one thing that felt right.

  “Bloody hell. I’m sorry,” his father said, bringing Miranda out of her mental stupor. “My business phone is ringing. Let me go. I’ll call you after I see your mom.”

  He hung up.

  And his last words hung in the air. Bloody hell. Bloody hell. She stood there with the phone in her hand, connecting some mental dots that should’ve connected immediately.

  Her father was from England. Ms. Wales was from England. Could they … somehow come from the same family lineage?

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Perry pulled out his phone to check the time. It was almost nine when Burnett parked the large white utility van in front of the yellow Victorian house on Jackson Street. They weren’t completely sure it was Jax’s house, but when Burnett went through city records and discovered it was owned by a corporation, he’d decided to move forward.

  Perry looked out the window in the back of the van. The gated neighborhood had no streetlights. Night had settled in. The golden hue of tungsten lights spilled from the home’s windows. The scene looked like a page out of a fairytale book—a happy place where children played, laughed, and were loved.

  Perry saw through it. Knew it for what it was. A façade. A mask to hide evil.

  Burnett swiveled in his seat and commenced with outlining his plan.

  “Why can’t I just shift and go in?” Perry asked. “I can give you a count of how many are in there.”

  He really thought Burnett was making this more complicated than it should be. Dressed in orange jumpsuits with the gas company’s emblem on them, seven of them were in the van: Burnett, Kylie, Della, Hayden Yates—a chameleon and teacher at the school—Chase, Perry, and Stephanie Tobler, the vampire agent who saved his ass at the bar.

  Their objective wasn’t to go in with guns blazing.

  Not that they didn’t have guns. At least the official agents were armed.

  Burnett made it clear that until they knew for sure that this was Jaxon’s home, and exactly what they were up against, they weren’t storming the house. If there were more than four perps, Burnett was calling for backup from Houston FRU.

  While Perry had been cleaning up and visiting with Miranda, Burnett ran his half brother through the system. Burnett wasn’t happy with what the system turned up.

  Jaxon Bowen was on the most-wanted list of the FRU. Only twenty-two years old, he had more felony offenses than he had years. He’d been the leader of three unscrupulous gangs in the Houston and Dallas areas that the FRU had managed to shut down. Jax had ultimately escaped all three times. And whatever he was involved in now, Burnett suspected it was equally devious.

  No one said it, but everyone thought it. If Anthony and Tabitha were somehow mixed up with Jax, chances were the only thing they’d be bringing home were their bodies. Perry couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt Miranda.

  “I could be in and out in no time,” Perry continued.

  “But Kylie and Hayden can go in invisible,” Burnett said.

  “I’m practically invisible when I shift.”

  Burnett’s jaw tightened. “Jax is a shifter, and a damn good one. The first thing he’ll look for is another shifter. Everyone else,” Burnett said, “will stay in the van, unless I call you. Got it?”

  Perry nodded. It made sense, but he didn’t like being put on standby when he’d been the one to give them the lead. It fed his insecurity. Burnett still didn’t trust him.

  Burnett continued. “There’s a pipeline easement in the back of the house. About five minutes ago, someone called and let the residents know that there was a report of a gas leak in the area, and that we’ll be out checking. I’ll ask whoever opens the door to let me into their backyard. Kylie and Hayden, invisible, will search the house while I’m out back. I’ll give them a few minutes and then I’ll knock and let the homeowners know all is well, Hayden and Kylie will come out with a report. They’ll never know we were there.” He slipped a baseball hat on his head. His pattern now hidden.

  “And what if there’s another vamp or were inside and they get your scent?” Perry asked, now turning into the one with concerns.

  “Houston has a large vampire population in the city. Just being a vampire shouldn’t set off any red flags. If trouble strikes, I’ll call.”

  Kylie and Hayden went invisible. Burnett walked out, leaving the door open long enough for them to follow.

  Perry gazed back to the window. The curtain in one of the downstairs rooms fluttered. “They know we’re here. They’re watching. Should we…?”

  “We wait until he calls us,” Agent Tobler said.

  The door to the house opened and Burnett disappeared inside.

  “I don’t like this.” Perry’s gut said something wasn’t right. He held a gulp of oxygen in his lungs. Before he let it out, a blast of gunfire exploded in the night.

  * * *

  Miranda was almost to Holiday’s cabin when her phone beeped with a text. Tabitha? Snatching it out of her pocket, she felt her hopes die when she saw Holiday’s number.

  Can you come over?

  Instead of texting back, she bolted up the steps and knocked.

  The sound of a baby’s cry reached Miranda’s ears. The door to the cabin swung open.

  “That was fast,” Holiday said.

  “I was coming to see you.”

  Holiday nodded. “Can you take him?” She handed Miranda the baby. “Dealing with two kids is a job.”

  Using her casted arm, Miranda pulled the wiggling baby close. Holiday went to get a whimpering Hannah out of her high chair.

  Miranda pushed the door closed, but not before noticing how the trees seemed to move in the breezeless night. She’d been aware of them all the way over here. When had she gotten paranoid of trees?

  Holiday pulled Hannah into her arms. “It’s okay,” she whispered and then looked back at Miranda. “I texted you because I remembered something that could link you to Ms. Wales.”

  “That’s why I came here, too.” Miranda sat down in Holiday’s rocker and pulled the unhappy baby closer. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about it immediately.”

  “How would you know … Wait, what do you see as a link?” Holiday asked.

  Miranda ran a finger over the baby’s soft cheek. “That Ms. Wales is from England and so is my dad. We could be … related somehow.”

  Holiday sat on the sofa, holding a very sleepy Hannah. “I didn’t think about that, either.”

  “Then what did you come up with?” Miranda asked.

  “When I was taking her class in college, Ms. Wales mentioned that she was dyslexic.”

  “And she’s a professor?” Miranda asked a little shocked.

  “I told you just because you are dyslexic doesn’t mean you aren’t—”

  “Smart. I know,” Miranda said, she just found it hard to believe. “I guess it is weird both of us being dyslexic.”

  “Right. It could mean nothing. But…” Holiday paused. “Because dyslexia can be hereditary, it gives your assumption that you two could be distant relatives more credibility.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Miranda looked down at the baby in her arms. He’d quieted and now looked up at her with wide light-gray eyes. “He’s not as ugly as I thought he was.”

  “I think I see Perry in him,” Holiday said.

  Miranda nearly choked on air. “Perry?” Hadn’t he completely dismissed her crazy assumption that—

  “He didn’t tell you?” Holiday asked.

  Perry had a baby? “No.”

  “He’s pretty sure that the baby’s father is his half brother.”

  Her words
floated around Miranda’s head a few seconds before she deciphered them. “I wasn’t even aware he had a half brother.”

  “He just found out. Jax, the one behind all this, is his mother’s son from an earlier marriage.”

  Miranda nodded, but didn’t like that she was learning things about Perry that he should’ve told her. She recalled their quick visit. He’d spent most of the time worrying over her. He probably hadn’t told her because he hadn’t wanted to toss his own problems on her. Didn’t he know she wanted him to toss them on her?

  “Let me put Hannah down.” The fae disappeared into a bedroom.

  Miranda stared at the baby that did kind of look like Perry. She wondered if one day she’d hold Perry’s baby. While having a baby was several years away, she wanted to have children.

  And if what she felt for Perry was real, and she felt pretty damn certain it was, he truly might be her life mate.

  An image of him with pain in his eyes flashed in her head. Her life mate had to be hurting. She considered how her argument with her mom stung, how her lingering hurt toward her dad ate at her conscience. She could not fathom how it would feel to know your parents and now a half brother were criminals. How would it feel to be the one sending them to prison?

  Holiday walked back in.

  Miranda looked up. “I’m worried about Perry being caught up in all this.”

  Holiday sank into a chair. “We’re all worried. But Burnett tried everything to get him to pull back.”

  The room fell silent. The baby in her arms suddenly felt warmer.

  “Has your father done your family tree?” Holiday asked.

  Miranda looked up from the sleeping child. Her question had her train of thought doing U-turns. “I … I don’t know. Up until I found out Tabitha was my sister, I didn’t even know his real name was … Evans.” Just saying it stirred up some of her still present resentment.

  “Would you be okay if I asked Ms. Wales if she has any Evans lineage in her family? I don’t know if she’s done her family tree, but I get a feeling she would have.”

  “That’d be fine,” Miranda said. “And … I’ll ask my dad if he has one.”

  Holiday’s gaze shifted to the baby. “You seem to have the right touch with him. He didn’t fall asleep for me.”

  “He’s probably just exhausted.” But Miranda liked the idea of her having a knack with babies.

  “She doesn’t seem worried about you anymore, either.”

  Miranda looked up. “She?” Right then Miranda felt the bonedeep cold that could only mean one thing—a ghost was present.

  * * *

  The gunshot hadn’t stopped ringing in Perry’s head when Agent Tobler bolted up. “Perry, Chase take the back. Della and I are taking the front.”

  Perry didn’t hesitate. But no way in hell could he keep up with a reborn vampire. By the time Perry got to the fence, Chase was on the other side.

  He started to leap over the fence when he heard yelling.

  “Move and I’ll fill your friend with enough lead he’ll glow.”

  Floodlights brightened the backyard. “Who the hell are you two?” a dangerous voice asked.

  Perry backed against the house. Heart slamming against his ribs, he peered through the fence. He saw three guys holding guns. No, not just guns. AK-47 rifles. All were aimed at Burnett. Air locked in his chest, making breathing impossible. His need to morph, to protect the man who’d been a brother to him, singed his veins. His skin crawled.

  He held back. One wrong move could get Burnett killed. He gathered every ounce of willpower he had, held on to it with an iron fist.

  He recalled the number one rule Burnett had taught him when he’d been working with him last summer. Assess before acting.

  He leaned in again, peered through the fence slats. He checked the armed guys’ patterns. Human? What the hell?

  He’d take human over supernatural, but those assault rifles could be just as deadly as a rogue.

  “Who are you?” one of the jerks spoke up again. When no one answered, he put his gun to Burnett’s head.

  Damn! Perry needed to do something. Fast. “Who sent you?” One of the other guys asked Chase. “You with the Bloods?”

  “We’re here to check on the gas line.” Chase glanced left and right as if looking for a way to take the three down before they filled Burnett with holes. Then his eye cut to the fence. He knew Perry was there.

  He recalled another piece of advice Burnett had given him. If you have to morph—and I mean dire circumstances—make it something no one in their right mind would ever believe if the story gets repeated.

  Voices erupted from inside the house; the three men looked back. Perry morphed. A fraction of a second later, he marched his pink polka dotted elephant ass through the fence.

  All three guys turned their guns on him. Not that it surprised Perry. He knew going in he’d be shot.

  Loud pops sounded and chunks of dirt flew up. Perry took one, two, three bullets. Two in his front right leg. One in his face. That one hurt. Hurt all the way into his tusks. Not that he regretted his decision.

  The second they took to shoot at his pink butt was all the distraction Chase and Burnett needed. They unarmed and tossed the three men to the ground—none too softly. Then Burnett pulled out his gun, and without hesitation, shot, and rendered all three unconscious.

  “You okay?” Burnett asked Perry.

  Perry moved his trunk up and down, and shifted his weight off his right leg. “Just flesh wounds.” Oh, but they hurt like hell!

  In the next breath of silence, gunfire erupted from the house. Burnett and Chase shot back inside. In their wake were Burnett’s words, “If they wake up, sit on them!”

  Or had he said … shit? Perry surmised that either one would work.

  Fifteen seconds later, Burnett stuck his head out. “Change.”

  Perry did, but gritted his teeth, knowing it would hurt like hell. Oh, there would be no injury, no blood. But the pain would linger for a good thirty seconds. It always did.

  The second he’d morphed, Burnett was at his side.

  Perry leaned forward, bracing his palms on his slightly bent knees. He breathed in, and tried not to puke.

  “You okay?” Burnett asked.

  “Fine,” Perry gritted out. He’d barely stood up when Della, Agent Tobler, Chase, Kylie—slightly glowing—and Hayden all walked outside with four more guys who didn’t look any older than Perry. But like the unconscious guys on the ground, they were all human, all with matching dragon tattoos on the sides of their necks.

  This wasn’t making sense. Had they gotten the wrong house? If not, what the hell was Jax doing hanging out with a human gang?

  “There’s bags of white powder inside,” Della said.

  Burnett looked at Chase and Agent Tobler. “Tranquilize ’em. I’m calling for a bus.”

  * * *

  Miranda headed back to her cabin, not sure what scared her the most. The feeling that the trees were watching her, or the thought that it might be the ghost.

  Fear of a ghost was a reasonable phobia. Her sudden paranoia of trees? Not so much. With everything going on, was she cracking under the pressure?

  She remembered asking Holiday before she left. “Is the ghost here because of me?”

  “I think it’s the baby,” Holiday had said. “But I admit it is odd that you’ve been present both times she’s shown up.”

  Odd? More like freaky. Freaky scary.

  Holiday’s fae mental feelers must have felt Miranda’s fear, because the woman offered to call someone to walk Miranda back to her cabin. Wanting to fake being brave, hoping it might actually make it so, Miranda had refused.

  She hurried down the footpath through the woods, not looking at the large oaks, whose limbs appeared like arms reaching for her. She stopped once, when she heard the creek water rushing. She hurried on.

  Footsteps, not her own, echoed in the distance. Faking it wasn’t making it.

  She told herself
it was probably just another camper. Told herself she was overreacting.

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to run.

  She started jogging, thinking only of getting back to the safety of her cabin, but rounding the bend in the path, the footsteps grew louder. Closer.

  She stopped. Air caught in her lungs. She considered running back to Holiday’s, but her own cabin was closer. She took off again, feet thudding against dirt, and that’s when she saw a figure coming right at her.

  In the back of her mind, she heard Della say, Balls, eyes, and throat.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Miranda?”

  Shawn’s voice had her panic rolling off her but a newfound panic rolling in. She had to break up with him.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here until ten.”

  “I got off early.”

  “But you were walking away from my cabin,” she said.

  “You weren’t there.” He sounded guilty.

  She knew why. He’d wanted to avoid seeing her. “You should have texted me.”

  “Probably.”

  She started walking. His steps moved in rhythm with hers. The sound of crickets singing filled the night air.

  Her mind raced, searching for a way to tell him what needed to be said. Something that sounded right. Nothing came to her.

  “How’s your arm?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Have you heard anything about my sister?”

  “No, sorry.”

  They walked the rest of the way to her cabin in silence. She moved up the porch steps and on the last step she almost tripped when she saw what was left outside her door.

  Flowers.

  He’d bought her flowers. Now.

  A spark of anger flickered inside her.

  She turned. He stood there watching her.

  “I … didn’t get a chance to have any delivered to you when…”

  He stopped talking as if just now realizing what a mistake he’d made.

  She walked to the side of the porch, dropped down, and dangled her feet off the edge.

  She felt him sit down beside her.

  She waited to see if he’d say anything. The silence felt thick. An awkward kind of sadness filled the air. Something was about to end. She hated endings.