Fireworks at Midnight: A Witch's Night Out (1Night Stand)

by Tara Quan

  Stunned by his reaction to a girl less than two months over eighteen, he’d taken great care to keep his distance. But the lost moment forced him to sift through memories of their past, when she’d worn braces and walked around with paint smudges on her face. The nature of their bond shifted with such subtlety neither of them noticed, but, in hindsight, the truth was impossible to miss. Even in their youth, his feelings toward her hadn’t been platonic.

  And now she’d grown into a veritable head turner. Though she didn’t have an hourglass silhouette by any stretch of the imagination, he’d glimpsed subtle curves under her tank top and shorts. He’d gone hard at the sight the small dark circles topping her pert breasts, just barely pulled back his hand from touching her gorgeous golden skin. Silky smooth and glowing with health, the swells above her neckline invited a man to taste and mark, and he loathed the idea of any other guy getting his paws on her.

  His erection had strained the confines of his briefs the moment he showed up at her place and found her on the kitchen floor, her chest heaving and her shoulder-length hair spread in a dark halo behind her. Those doe eyes, framed by thick fringes of sooty lashes, had transfixed him for at least half a minute. Then he’d gotten distracted by the rest of her.

  He’d been thankful she’d refused his offer to help her up. If she’d touched him, he’d no idea what he might have done in that state. As he watched her curl onto tiny bare feet, his intention had firmed into hard resolve. His training had taught him the value of patience. He’d spend the next few months lulling her into a false sense of safety. Once she lowered her guard, he’d make his move.

  “Since when are you so obsessed with my love life? Leo’s my sister’s boyfriend, asshat. He calls me to find out what to bribe her with. Why are you at his law firm?” Thank God, talking to her on the phone took their explosive chemistry out of the equation. With her elfin face away from view, she remained the girl he’d grown up with—one of the few females on the planet he counted as a close friend. Instead of coming up with stupid excuses and scampering away, she’d talk to him at length with laughter tingeing her voice.

  “It’s my day job. You know how it works. The higher-ups can’t afford to pay anyone full-time.” Since this wasn’t a secure line, he left it at that. He’d tell her the details in person.

  She took the hint and switched subjects. “How’s your first day at work? Is it as shitty as I think it is?”

  Glancing at the austere white walls and piles of file folders on the worn carpet, he groaned. “Worse. It’s an effing plantation over here.”

  “That’s what you said about your…umm…night job.”

  He’d thought Enforcement was bad, but Clandestine Affairs made the overt side seem like the poster agency for equal employment opportunities. “I’m the token black lawyer—and by that I mean the only one. In the attorney pool, there’s me, thirty some white guys, and one woman. Wanna know the support staff breakdown?”

  “I already do. I’m pals with your HR person. They’re all chicks except for the mailroom people—brunettes with a sprinkling of blondes.”

  Disappointed, he sank into the backrest. He’d been looking forward to offloading his complaints. Even while they’d lived in different cities, they called each other at least once a week to catch up. He chatted with her more over the phone than any member of his actual family. “How did you and Ms. Mao even meet?” While in the same age bracket, the petite Asian witch seemed too serious to run in Sweets’ artsy circle.

  “Call her Mina already—Ms. Mao sounds like some Chinese dictator’s daughter. We took the same night classes a while back. By the way, I need you to confirm her story. Do they really use dictation machines there?”

  He glanced at the microphone on his desk. Mystery solved. “Yup. In full tape-recorder glory.” His focus shifted to the beginning of her statement. “You didn’t tell me you’re getting a master’s.” Though smart enough to complete a B.A. in three years while working full-time, she hated structured learning.

  “I’m not. Remember the business and accounting lessons I bitched about—the ones I took to keep Mamà happy? She’s still convinced Cat and I will both have PhDs one day. Talk about delusional.”

  Was it any wonder their mothers got along? “No sympathy here. I’m the one with two parents who both think I’m taking the scenic route to med school.”

  She laughed. Their families’ lack of understanding when it came to unorthodox career paths had always given them something in common. Out of love and respect, they’d both gone to great lengths to live up to unrealistic expectations. Remembering how difficult it had been to step off the pre-paved path, he admired the courage it took for her to chase dreams of her own.

  “I forgot to ask. Where’s your blind date?” He wanted to keep tabs on her tonight, but activating the GPS tracker on her phone seemed like overkill.

  “Georgetown, which is where I’ve pitched my stall. I have to say—I’m making bank. I might even pay you back tomorrow and buy you those espresso shots. When the partygoers start funneling into clubs, I’ll pack up and head over to meet the potential love of my life.”

  For once, the stars aligned to his convenience. “I’ll be at the waterfront working until around eleven.” He couldn’t envision this fake date lasting any longer than an hour. Once he verified the setup involved no mind control, he’d bail. “If the guy’s a loser, you can ditch him and come watch the fireworks with me.”

  Her forced laugh held a hint of nervousness. “I plan on getting tipsy long before midnight, boy-o. I’ll pass on the chaperone. Besides, this is a hookup. My standards are pretty low these days. This city’s the worst place to be single—they’ve done statistical studies to prove it and stuff.”

  He opened his mouth to start a lecture before biting his tongue. She’d dig in her heels if he sounded even remotely bossy. “How do you plan on getting back? I can’t drink on duty, so I might as well give you a ride home and save you the cab fare. Tell me where you’ll be.”

  “So you can stalk me, scare off my date, and stop me from having my first real drink in months?” she challenged, her voice a tad too high-pitched. “No thank you.”

  He scratched his head. She’d seen him in action a few too many times. “All I’m offering is to be your designated driver. Have as many wine coolers as you want.”

  “I’m twenty-one, not fifteen. I’m drinking champagne, and lots of it.” Her words tumbled out almost too fast for coherence. “Having your ugly mug staring at me from around the corner crimps my style. I remember what you did to any schmuck who came within ten feet of Shelley.”

  In his defense, none of those idiots had been good enough to sniff around his baby sister. “Why are you so gung ho about dating all of a sudden?” While Shelley had enjoyed wrapping unsuspecting males around her little finger growing up, Dulcina had always shied away from boys. She’d joined him for a Farscape marathon on her prom night after laughing off his offer to escort her to the dance, which she’d termed an overpriced excuse to bump uglies.

  “I want to make sure everything’s working down there.”

  Talk about too much information. “For my sanity, can you text me at eleven so I know everything’s on the up and up?”

  “Sheesh, fine. You have an actual sibling to get all weird around, you know?”

  “She can’t find trouble if she won’t leave the house.” Shelley’s condition came with a single perk. Sighing, he tried to slow his accelerated heart rate. The desk’s scratched wooden surface didn’t look like it could withstand a hard punch or tornado-force winds. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m off the clock. Don’t do anything stupid.” Or sleep with the guy, unless she wanted the unfortunate fool to end up dangling from the top of the Washington Monument.

  “My phone’s on and charged, and I’ll run home if the man even talks funny, all right? Gotta go. I spot Japanese tourists with fancy cameras and money to burn.”

  Staring at the old phone long after it disconnected, he pul
led out his Enforcement cell and dialed headquarters. After all, she belonged to the magical community he’d been sent here to protect. What was the harm in gaining access to her cell’s GPS on the off chance she’d need his help?

  ***

  Walking out of the 24-hour ATM booth onto the busy street, Sweets wrestled with the urge to lift her arms, shake her booty, and do an impromptu performance of “Who’s Your Daddy?” After observing the crazy club-hopping crowd around her, she took a moment to indulge the impulse. For good measure, she topped off the short dance by leaping into the air and yelling, “Woot!”

  It wasn’t even midnight yet, and this had turned out to be the best New Year’s Eve ever. The cash she’d deposited more than covered Flowers Forever’s expenses for the next two months, and that didn’t include the credit card transactions. All the coeds pre-gaming midnight frat parties had been in the mood to add some last minute oomph to their outfits, and what better complimented fireworks than jewelry? Having dispensed with most of her stock, she didn’t even need to lug around cardboard boxes. The leftovers had all fit in her backpack.

  Checking her watch, she marched down Wisconsin toward M Street and crossed her fingers Madame Eve’s mystery one-night stand wasn’t the punctual type. Already a quarter past ten, it would take her at least ten more minutes to get to the Castillo Waterfront, which meant she was on track to being half an hour late.

  When her feet protested the brisk pace, she shrugged and slowed down. Rather than risk twisting her ankle in the thigh-high stiletto boots, she’d rather never meet the guy. It would be his loss, and alcohol at this point would put her to sleep anyway. She could always go home, tell Shelley the good news, and watch the fireworks on TV with some spiked coffee.

  As she reached the crosswalk, red lights from a parked Metro police car glinted off a side mirror and flashed over her face. Losing her balance, she stopped and leaned against a shop window. Lowering her lids, she let the premonition wash over her.

  Unlike the time she’d been in Mikal’s car, she observed the event from a distance. A skinny teenage girl with ebony hair and light-brown skin struggled as a group of boys dragged her toward a dark alley. One guy had a hand over her mouth. The other four formed a human wall around them. Despite the throngs of people on the street, no one registered the attack.

  They pushed her across ice-slicked pavement before shoving her onto snow-covered dirt. The following exchanges took place in a muted fast forward. Then a white flash filled her vision, followed by several strokes of lightning. When the dust cleared, five charred bodies formed a semi-circle around a screaming girl.

  When the burst of foresight released her, Sweets looked up at the sky and pointed her middle finger in the air. “One night off, that’s all I’m asking. It’s New Year’s fucking Eve.”

  Pulling an elastic band out of her coat pocket, she tied her hair into a high ponytail. No wonder she had a nonexistent sex life. It wasn’t like she could take a personal day off from precognition, and once she foresaw something bad happening, she didn’t have the heart to walk away. Add these incidents to her busy schedule and tendency to compare every man to Mikal, and she had the recipe for a twenty-one-year-old virgin.

  Turning on her heel, she strode toward the high-end electronics store she’d glimpsed when her premonition began, having recognized it from her countless visits to Georgetown. About to turn into the adjacent alley, she hesitated. Since the city housed several universities, New Year’s Eve brought law enforcement out in full force. With patrol cars parked at the corner of every second block, how was she supposed to handle a bunch of jocks without drawing attention? The police weren’t equipped to tackle an elemental mage’s electrified meltdown. Involving them risked more lives and could expose the magical community. If even a hint of this incident hit the news, the teen witch she was trying to save would land in a shitload of trouble.

  While she could kick ass with the best of them, she’d come close to getting caught often enough to realize her limits. She could handle two, may be even three bad guys without too much of a ruckus. Five pushed the limits of the ten Krav Maga classes she’d taken three years ago.

  Then she remembered Mikal’s recent transfer. As much as she wanted to avoid him tonight, circumstances limited her options. Pulling out her phone, she called the one person she could always count on to bail her out of a jam.

  “How’s the date going? Need me to rescue you yet?” He sounded so eager, she almost hung up.

  “Haven’t got there. Look, I’m heading toward the Apple Store in G-town, the one off Wisconsin. Shit is about to happen, I’m going to stop it, and I need you to make sure the cops don’t show.”

  “Whoa there. Stop and rewind. You’re doing what?”

  Did she have to explain everything? “Five stupid assholes are going to attack an elemental kid who can’t control her powers. If I don’t stop it, she’ll fry them. If I stop it, the capital police will show up, and the dickwads will blab about me knocking them around with no hands. Pull some Enforcement strings to keep this off the radar until I can grab the girl and haul ass.”

  “Like hell.” She moved the phone away from her ear before lowering the volume. Technology had its perks. “You’re going to sit your skinny butt down where you are and wait fifteen minutes for me to take care of this.”

  She’d learned a decade before the best way to deal with the man’s overprotectiveness was to ignore it. “This girl doesn’t have fifteen minutes. Stay where you are. I’ve got this.”

  Hanging up and putting the phone on silent, she grabbed a mask from her coat’s breast pocket, positioned it on her face, and tiptoed into the alley. As she got farther away from the busy street, she heard hushed voices. Dropping her backpack behind a dumpster, she morphed into a cat and continued forward. No time like the present for a magical recharge.

  The potential disaster didn’t appear as bad as she’d thought. None of the parties involved looked over seventeen, and the elemental girl held her ground. The lanky blond gang leader drank from a bottle of peach-flavored Smirnoff Ice, which made it impossible for him to appear menacing. “I saw you do your Cherokee Shaman voodoo shit in computer lab. They said it was a power surge, but the sparks came from your hands. Fry the security system, and maybe we won’t beat you up.”

  What type of idiot tried to bully a kid who could summon lightning? This must be nature’s way of weeding out the dumb ones.

  The girl crossed her arms. “I’m Indian—as in from India, the country in Asia with billions of people. And I’m Hindu, not Voodoo. Let me go before I call the cops.”

  A Miller-Lite chugging ginger sidekick stumbled foreword, reached into the girl’s jean pocket, and took her phone. After dropping it on the ground, he broke it with a stomp. Talk about imbecilic, drunk, and wasteful. “I don’t care if you don’t eat pork. Blast the door so we can get new iPhones.”

  And what was to stop the girl from “blasting” him? More importantly, how could this possibility not occur to at least one of the five under-developed brains?

  Little Miss Smarty Pants, who’d handled the situation with aplomb thus far, jabbed her finger into carrot head’s chest. “It’s beef, fudge brain. And you can’t activate stolen phones anyway. How moronic are you?”

  These guys fell into the too-stupid-to-live category. She only stuck around out of concern for the girl’s potential PTSD.

  Ginger grabbed his victim’s wrist. “Do as you’re told, bitch.”

  The kid kneed him in the balls. Howling, he fell to the ground, clutching his crotch. She must have put some power behind that move since the guy’s face turned bright red. Sweets doubted he’d get up any time soon.

  Turning to face the other four, the girl placed her hands on her hips. “I’m required to issue a warning before I do anything nasty. This is it. Find some other way to get arrested and leave me out of it.”

  A black-haired goon with a beer gut burped. “What’s she talking about?”

  She threw her ha
nds in the air. “Urghh….”

  At this point, the kiddy gang’s drunk alpha reasserted his authority. Grabbing the girl by her waist with one arm, he dragged her to the metal door and shoved her face-first against it. He then proceeded to pour his wine cooler over her head, seemingly oblivious to the white glow emanating from his captive’s hands. “Open it, freak, or I’ll shove the bottle up your—”

  There seemed no time like the present for a nice little telekinetic blast. Launching the boy up in the air and dropping him into a nearby dumpster, Sweets assumed her human form and stepped out of the shadows to face the remaining goofballs. “Two down, three to go. Sure you want to keep playing?”

  Liberated, the sputtering mini-witch turned and shrieked, “I’m going to fry your—”

  Sweets rushed to the kid’s side, grabbed her electrified hands, and pulled the energy into her body in the nick of time. The rush of power almost knocked her out. “Not an expert here, but murder charges don’t look good on college applications.”

  The threat worked. The girl’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping such that her mouth formed an O. Then she glanced over Sweets’s shoulder. “Look out!”

  Foreseeing the blow, Sweets turned and aimed a perfect throat punch at the kid coming at her with a wine-cooler bottle. Dropping to her haunches to avoid his friend’s swinging backpack, she swept one leg in an arc and kicked the boy’s legs out from under him. As he joined his hacking compatriot on the icy soil, she sprang up to head-butt bozo number three’s chin.