Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery)

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Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery) Page 31

by Tracey Martin


  Heidi chuckled and everything inside of him stretched toward her, like a candle flame seeking the source of fresh air. The sweet sound of it, so distinctly and utterly feminine, captivated him. Sensuality blended with playful amusement and, he believed, the first glimpse of real affection he’d ever seen her express. She loved the little beast bouncing on her desk and ignored the papers Minion sent skittering everywhere.

  “Will you behave yourself?” Heidi asked the imp, stroking a finger down her wrinkled nose.

  “What fun would that be?” Minion snorted. But under Heidi’s gimlet eye, her ears flattened and she sighed with such melodramatic gusto he had to suppress a smile lest he betray his presence. “I’ll behave.”

  Her soft laughter filled the air and a look of utter indulgence filled Heidi’s expression. “You may go, but—” she held up a finger when Minion began to vibrate with glee, “—you will behave. You will follow the rules. You will not use your powers in public. You will stay with Kiki or—”

  “Or Fang Daddy, I got it.”

  He frowned, uncertain of the identity of this “Fang Daddy”.

  “His name is Richard, Minion. He’s the Vampire Prince of New York; you should give him a modicum of respect.”

  “Why?” Minion asked with an impudent lift to her chin. “He said I could call him Fang Daddy ’cause it makes Kiki laugh.”

  Heidi shook her head. Exasperation shimmered under that smile of hers. The expression curved her lips, the unguarded affection and joy locking the air in his lungs. He forgot the need to breathe, wary of disturbing the moment. “Fine. Call him Fang Daddy, but do behave. Now, do you want the spell or not?”

  “Really? You’ll really do it?” Minion clapped her hands together.

  “Yes, I will really do it.” So patient and kind. Heidi rubbed her palms together. The glide of her skin on skin rasped the air and a glow spread over her fingers, heating as she stared fixedly at the little one. Minion didn’t flinch, her trust so absolute in the powerful woman before her.

  Intimately aware of the power housed by this woman, the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up. Energy rippled out from the stage manager as she touched Minion’s face. The magic coalesced, falling on the tiny being like a gossamer web. The flaxen energy draped Minion until it coated her, and between one blink and the next, her ruddy skin vanished along with her tufted ears and too-long tail to be replaced by a young woman with blue-streaked blonde hair and warm blue-gray eyes—a girl who very clearly resembled the manager herself—dressed like any other modern teenager.

  Knowledge tingled in the back of his mind, some connection that seemed as obvious as it was elusive, but it vanished before he could fully grasp it.

  Minion launched off the desk and tripped over her feet, sprawling on the rug. “Ow.”

  “You’re taller now, silly. You need to remember that.” But he hadn’t missed the concern that flashed through Heidi’s eyes or the way her hands clenched. Still, she remained seated and let Minion pick herself up. Rubbing her hands against her new jeans, the young woman walked over to a mirror and inspected her appearance.

  “I like it.” The change was startling, even her voice had deepened by several notes. She turned back to Heidi with a grin. “But I can still ’port?”

  “Yes, but don’t do it too often. And never…”

  “Yeah, never in public. I got it. Thank you!” She started to bounce over, and then seemed to think twice about it, choosing to walk at a more sedate pace instead. Heidi rose from her chair and hugged her younger image. “Will you miss me?” The plaintive note tugged at something in his chest, but he ignored the irritating sensation.

  “Not a bit,” Heidi replied and leaned back to comb her fingers through the girl’s hair.

  “Liar.” Their matching grins aroused that elusive wisp of knowledge, but it skittered away before he could grab it.

  “Sometimes. Now, get moving. I have work to do before the girls wake up.”

  “Love you.” Minion kissed her cheek and then—bamf!—teleported out of the room with a much louder bang and heavier scent of sulfur.

  Heidi waved her hand to clear the air and sighed. Her smile faded and her sadness was so tangible it struck him from across the room. He took a half step forward without realizing it.

  The vulnerability in her expression vanished behind a shield of iron and her gaze narrowed on him. Frost iced over him at Heidi’s glacial glare.

  “Spying, Connor?”

  “Checking on my investments,” he countered. He gambled that the cloaking spell she’d cast had drained her and crossed over the threshold. No magic shoved at his shields or tried to push him out.

  “Uh-huh.” Gone was the tenderness she’d given the little imp, leaving only the brusque, impassive woman he’d sparred with for so long. She retrieved the scattered papers without another look at him. “What do you want, Connor? I have work to do.”

  He watched her silently, curious at the sensation of envy stabbing him. She rose, papers in hand, and stacked them together. Her dismissal flicked over him like a cool spray and disappointment rushed into the wounds made by the envy.

  “What?”

  He shook his head and embraced the cold comfort of his power. “Nothing. Is the new show ready? The theatre has been dark for over a week and the guests have begun to complain.”

  “We open Friday. On schedule.” Dismissal hung like stalactites from each word.

  Annoyed, he gave her a curt nod. “It better be.”

  Power shimmered along his senses. Her energy had returned and it wouldn’t be long before she gave him a shove out the door. Snapping his fingers, he teleported out without another word. In his own rooms high above the Arcana Royale, he looked down through the glass floor, surveying everything below him, every level, seeing all, save for the one blemish in his vision.

  The Midnight Mystery Lounge remained hidden, shrouded from his sight. An old anger awoke the Overseer within Connor and shuttered the man.

  Far below him, a new threat stepped through the front doors and the paranormal casino shuddered with awareness.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Dirty Little Misery

  Copyright © 2014 by Tracey Martin

  ISBN: 978-1-61922-183-3

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2014

  www.samhainpublishing.com

 

 

 


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