by Bianca D'Arc
Miranda turned around and gave the information to Tony, fulfilling her role as liaison and then the discussions had been turned over to Grif and Tony, as leaders of their respective peoples. The liaison thing was working. They’d managed to get the right information to the right people in good time, and Grif had commented to Mag that he thought the new role suited him. Mag was glad to help. He liked that he was able to work with Miranda on Clan issues. It seemed a good use of their time and skills.
And so, when the planning started in earnest, they were as ready as they could be to lend a hand. A major operation was being planned for downtown. Steve and his new mate, Trisha, were hoping to flush out the magic user who had been targeting her. It was believed the same man had also killed the vampire.
As a result, both the Redstone Clan and the Master vampire had agreed to work together. Miranda spent hours on the phone, coordinating the immortals Tony had asked to help. It was a little like herding cats, she’d joked, but she managed to pull them together and get them all to the Las Vegas strip at about the same time.
Mag was doing the same for the shifters, helping his brother Steve coordinate his security team with Miranda’s people. The beginnings of a plan were set in motion and the only thing left was the execution. Mag would have looked forward to the action if the circumstances weren’t so dire—and if Miranda weren’t in the thick of it.
But as newly appointed liaison, she needed to be involved. Her people needed to see her doing her duty. Mag vowed he’d be at her side at all times. The two liaisons wouldn’t go anywhere separately.
To that end, Mag and Miranda were pre-positioned in a hotel suite from which the evening’s operation would be launched. Miranda was working the phones, setting up the coverage areas for the bloodletters while Mag kept the shifters updated on what the vamps were doing.
“Tony’s people are ready,” he told the gathering in the next room. Steve, Trisha, her dad and brother were all waiting for the signal to move. Once the vampires were in place, they could go at any time.
The bloodletters had been asked to use their psychic abilities to steer traffic away from Trisha as she walked down the Las Vegas strip. It was pretty well known that they could alter perception and influence what people saw—or didn’t see. The idea was to draw the bad guy out into the open using Trisha as the lure. Then they’d move in and capture him, all while using the vampire’s psychic gifts to keep regular humans unaware of the magical battle that took place right on the street.
Mag had thought it was a pretty tall order when the admiral had first suggested that part of the plan, but Miranda had merely nodded. She knew what her people were capable of and apparently, so did the admiral. Tony had agreed to the request and set Miranda on the task of organizing everything. Even Mag had been impressed by her ability to manage so many moving parts.
Miranda and Mag had to play their roles and stroll down the strip so her people could see her—see them both—as liaison. Mag kept a close watch over her, and he knew she was doing her part to steer regular folks away from the action on the sidewalk. They were about a hundred yards from Trisha, on the other side of the wide boulevard. Steve was out of sight, further up the road, but he’d be close if and when the trap was sprung. For now, Miranda was out in the open, aiding in the psychic deception.
Mag learned a lot that night. He saw how the bloodletters were able to target exactly who could see reality, versus the rest of the world that saw the illusion they created. He also learned about the different flavors of magic, and how vampires worked on a whole different level than most human magic users or most shifters, for that matter.
When the action really started, Miranda couldn’t see much. She was busy actively steering humans out of the way and clouding their minds. But she did notice when two heavily armed men seemed to surf a giant wave out of the man-made lake behind Trisha. Whatever kind of magic those guys possessed, it was something she’d never seen before.
Then Trisha dove into the lake and did the same surfing thing on the way out. She had to be related to those military guys—or at least part of the same magical race. Miranda watched, working her own kind of magic on the humans all around, making sure her fellow bloodletters were doing the same.
When it looked like things had been resolved, Tony appeared. He greeted Miranda with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, like an old friend.
“You’ve done good work here, Miranda. I’m very impressed with your organizational skills.” That he took the time to compliment her in the midst of so much tumult touched her greatly.
“I was glad to help,” she murmured.
“I think it may be time to cross the street and offer our assistance,” the Master said, his gaze straying to where Steve and Trisha stood on the pavement across the wide road.
Miranda kept up her psychic work while they crossed through traffic and made their way to the couple. Mag stood behind her, nodding at his brother’s greeting but didn’t make introductions, so Miranda took it upon herself.
“I’m Miranda,” she said, reaching out to Trisha. “Your power is impressive.” Miranda smiled, hoping to put the other woman at ease. After all, they were going to be sister-in-laws, of a sort, if Mag was to be believed.
“Indeed,” Tony added, chiming in. “I suggest we move off the street. My people have strong influence over mortals, but we cannot be sure there are not Others watching our every move.”
That seemed to sober everyone up and they walked as a group back toward the hotel from where they had started earlier that evening. They were silent until they’d reached the safety of the suite of rooms they had used earlier. There was already a bit of a crowd gathered there but Trisha and Steve stayed with Mag and Miranda for a moment while Miranda introduced them to the Master.
He was formal at first, but after a few moments of conversation, he seemed to mellow and invited them all to call him Tony. That was a bit of a surprise. The Master didn’t often invite such familiarity. It meant he respected them and felt they were if not exactly equals, then at least powerful enough to have earned the right to use his given name.
When the two military guys from the lake arrived with an older man, Trisha moved away to greet them with big hugs. They were, no doubt, her family. Miranda could see the resemblance now that they were standing closer.
“Those are some very powerful beings,” Tony observed quietly, still standing next to Miranda.
“What are they? I’ve never seen anything like what they did back there,” Miranda admitted.
“Water elementals of some kind,” Tony said, watching the three men closely as he spoke. “Very magical in a way that we can never be. Such creatures usually don’t become so heavily involved in mortal matters. It’s strange to see them so ingrained in the human military.”
“Really?” Miranda wanted to know more and the Master seemed in a talkative mood.
“If they show themselves in the mortal world at all, it is usually as environmental champions. Their power is tied closely to the elements and they have a vested interest in protecting the Earth.”
Miranda saw the sense in that. She would have asked more, but the room was full and the after-action meeting was starting to take shape. Miranda listened with interest as they talked over the events of the night. Grif started by thanking everyone—especially the Master—then asked Tony to start the discussion by telling them all how much damage control they would need to do among humans who might’ve seen something.
“Certainly,” Tony replied with his typical, engaging smile. “The elders of my forces were engaged in active illusion while the younger and less adept with such things were set to watch. We had only three instances where otherwise normal humans noticed some of the action. Each was intercepted and evaluated. Two were bespelled into forgetfulness. The other is still with one of my operatives. It is a woman. Her mind is resistant.” The Master frowned as he reported that last bit. “I will go have a look at her as soon as we’re done here and see what I might be able
to do to mitigate the problem. Maybe one of your people would like to accompany me? The snowcat or his mate, perhaps?”
Kate and Slade agreed readily, so the Master went on. “Other than the three humans, only agents of the enemy saw what happened. All of those are accounted for—either dead or awaiting our questioning. They have been taken to a remote location and will remain under guard there until we are ready to talk to them.”
It became clear that Slade and Kate would be in on the interrogation of the prisoners as well, and the meeting went on from there. Miranda leaned against Mag, her energy fading a bit. Even though she was feeling much better each day, when she used her powers for an extended period of time, she tired more easily than she should. It would take more time to build up her psychic muscles again to where they’d been before she was taken. Her skills were there, it was just the stamina that was lacking.
When the meeting broke up a short while later, Miranda was glad. The evening had been an adventure. It had ended well, and nobody was really hurt on their side. They’d even struck a blow for the good guys. All in all, it was a satisfactory result, but she was still exhausted.
Tony made a point of complimenting her work once more before taking his leave. He left via the balcony, alongside some surprised raptor shapeshifters. Apparently they’d never seen a vampire turn to mist before. Tony was old and powerful enough to have perfected the trick, and apparently wasn’t afraid to show off a bit in front of the shifters.
Miranda and Mag left the old fashioned way—through the door and down the elevator to his waiting car. He drove them home while she relaxed. Before she knew it, they were back at the house in the desert and the night was half over.
Mag was a romantic at heart and he proved it yet again by carrying her into the house. He didn’t stop until they were in the bedroom. He settled her gently on the bed, then left the room to make sure everything was locked up for the day. When he returned, expecting to find Miranda asleep once more, he was surprised instead by a naked sex kitten purring on his bed.
Apparently Miranda wanted to play a bit before she went to sleep. Mag didn’t mind at all. He grinned as he stripped off his clothes, liking the way her gaze followed his every move. He drew out the process, doing a little strip tease of his own for her benefit.
“I hope you’re enjoying this.” He sent the words to her through their link, experimenting. Talking mind to mind was still so new to him.
“Mm. You know what I like,” she sent back, the purr in her voice communicating through their minds. His little she-cat was turned on all right, and he wasn’t far behind.
“This?” He asked as he stroked his hands over his torso, working downward. He pushed off his pants and boxers, then grasped his cock which was already hard and ready for action. “Or this?”
“All of it. Especially that,” she teased with her words, her gaze zeroing in on his erection. “I guess you’re really happy to see me, eh?”
“I’m always happy when you’re naked in my bed, Miranda. You should have figured that out by now.” He stepped out of the pile of his clothing and leapt onto the bed.
It was a simple jump for a man who shared his soul with a cat, but it seemed to take Miranda by surprise. She laughed and he loved the sound of her joy. He’d been so afraid for so long that she wouldn’t be able to recapture the part of her soul that experienced happiness. Her ordeal had marked her in subtle ways, sure. It had changed her on a fundamental level, tempering her like a fine blade, making her stronger, but it hadn’t taken away her ability to have fun. That pleased him more than he could say. Big cats liked having fun—especially with their mates.
He loomed over her, enjoying her petite form under him. She was so ladylike. So delicate looking. Yet, he knew, she had physical strength that nearly matched his own. Vampires were fast too. Even faster than shifters in some ways. She was his match in every way. Magical, strong, fast and yet soft, feminine and so very welcoming.
She opened her legs, making room for him between them. They didn’t have to speak, not even in their minds. They were both clearly thinking the same thing. They both wanted to be as close as to people could physically be. Mag took his time, enjoying the moment of joining, knowing from the flavor of her thoughts that she loved it every bit as much as he did.
They came together and all was right with the world for one very long moment out of time. It couldn’t last forever. Nothing ever did. But for this one moment, everything was as perfect as it could possibly be.
Mag would remember this moment—and many others just like it—whenever problems presented themselves. Which was far too often, as far as he was concerned.
Chapter Thirteen
The instant Miranda opened her eyes one night a few weeks later, she knew something was desperately wrong.
“Mag?”
“Here, love.” He walked into the room from the adjoining bath, clearly having just stepped out of the shower. He had a towel wrapped around his lean hips and looked as edible as always, but she couldn’t stop to admire him now. Something was seriously wrong.
She sat up, her gaze sliding over every object in the room as she sought the feeling of wrongness, and tried to figure out where it was coming from. Mag went on alert, the sexy grin sliding from his face to be replaced with a look of concern as he positioned himself between her and the door. He grabbed the tablet from the bedside table and quickly checked through the security screens.
“Nothing showing here. What do you sense?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure…”
Her cell phone rang loudly in the stillness. Miranda jumped. She couldn’t help it. Her nerves were on edge, anticipating bad news. Mag reached for the small phone, glancing at the face of it before handing it to her.
“Blocked number,” he said quietly, his brows drawing downward in concern.
“This can’t be good.” Miranda handled the phone as if it were a live grenade, knowing already that she wasn’t going to like hearing whatever would be said in the next few moments.
Mag grabbed his own phone and hit speed dial. She heard him talking in low tones with his brother Steve, the security expert, while her phone rang again. Then Mag addressed her.
“Answer it. Try to keep them talking as long as you can. Steve will run a trace.”
Miranda would be impressed later, when she had time to breathe. Right now, she had to deal with whatever was waiting at the other end of the line. Sucking in a deep breath, she hit the button that would connect the call.
“Hello?” She did her best to sound as normal as possible.
“Miranda van Allyn?”
She didn’t recognize the voice, and it had a slightly digital quality to it. Whoever it was, they were using some pretty high-tech equipment to try to disguise their voice, which said either it was someone Miranda should recognize, or someone obsessed with anonymity.
“Yes, I’m Miranda. Who is this?” She figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask, and might add a few seconds to the call.
“That’s not important,” the caller replied. “What is important is that I have something you might be interested in.”
“And what might that be? I can’t think of anything I really need at the moment.” She tried to sound bored, as if she had the upper hand, but deep down, she knew she didn’t.
“It’s not so much a what as a who. We know about the wine bar and the songbird. She’s here now, as a matter of fact. Sadly, she’s not very happy about being here.”
Miranda began to shake—with fear or fury, she wasn’t sure. “Let me get this straight.” She stalled for time hoping to the Goddess that Steve was able to trace this call. “You’ve kidnapped one of my business partners? What do you hope to gain from such an action?” She didn’t dare betray her true concern. The caller didn’t appear to realize that Miranda was related to Mel. Miranda hoped to keep it that way.
“Go to the bar. Bring your phone. We’ll call with further instructions. If you bring your pet, we’ll know, and we won
’t call. In that case, the girl will die. It won’t be pretty. Do you understand?”
“If this is about money—”
“Do you understand?” The voice cut her off angrily.
“I get it. Go to the bar and bring my phone.”
“And no shifters. Not a single one, Miranda. You bring an animal with you, all bets are off and your friend dies in a really bad way. Got it?”
“Yes, I understand, but I need proof of life before I go anywhere. I want to talk to her.”
“Good girl,” the thought came clear as a bell into her mind from Mag. Their bond was strengthening.
There was a fumbling noise on the other end of the line and then a shaky, female voice came through the speaker.
“Hello?”
Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. It was Melissa. Thank the Mother of All.
“Mel? Is that you?” Miranda played for time.
“Yes, it’s me. Randi? What’s going on? Who are these people?” Her voice rose with her anxiety and Miranda cringed. They had to get her out of there. Wherever there was.
“It’s all right. Sit tight, kiddo. I’m going to negotiate your release. Just be careful and stay alive for me, okay?” She wished she could say more but Melissa was utterly ignorant about the paranormal beings that surrounded her.
“Alive?” Mel’s fear ratcheted up another notch. Damn. Miranda hadn’t meant to scare her, but she needed to know the stakes here were very high. The highest, in fact—life or death. “Okay.” Amazingly, Melissa calmed a bit, all on her own. That’a girl. “I’ll do my best. Randi, I—”
Whatever she would have said was cut off as the first voice came back on the line.