Spellbinder by C. C. Hunter
“This man is ruining your victory!” her mom spouted out. “You deserve your five minutes of fame!”
“It’s okay,” Miranda said. She didn’t need fame—she wasn’t even sure she wanted fame, period—but this was what her mom lived for. “I won, that’s what matters.” She hugged her mom, hoping to calm her and prevent Burnett from wringing her neck. Arms still wrapped around her mom, she spotted Kylie and Della standing in the doorway.
Kylie smiled with concern. Della looked half pissed. The vamp didn’t like Miranda’s mom. Not that Della’s parents were all that much better.
The clearing of a throat had Miranda dropping her arms from around her mother. “Sorry, Ms. Kane,” Shawn said as he stood from his chair. “I’m about to really upset you.”
Oh, great! Now Shawn wasn’t afraid of her mother. Miranda eyed Shawn with warning. What was he up to?
He met her eyes briefly and then turned to her mother. “You see, your daughter needs to recuse herself from this competition.”
Miranda’s jaw dropped open. “We already talked about this.”
“Are you insane?” her mom snapped.
Miranda ignored her mom and stared daggers at the blond warlock.
He wiped his face with a palm then took a step back from her mom. Fear flashed in his eyes. And rightfully so.
Shawn glanced back at Miranda. “Yeah, we talked, and I disagreed with you.”
Miranda dropped a hand on her hip. “You didn’t say you disagreed with me.”
“I didn’t say I agreed with you either.”
She felt a bit speechless. “As if that matters. I don’t need you to agree with me.” Miranda shook her head and then glanced back at Burnett. “I’m not recusing myself from the competition. It will just put someone else in danger.”
“That’s a hell no! My daughter will not recuse herself,” her mom added and came to stand by Miranda as if to create a solid front. Then she turned and looked at Miranda. “Wait. Why would it put someone else in danger?”
Before Miranda could address her mom’s question, Shawn countered with, “Then I’ll have to confess to the council.”
“Confess what?” Burnett asked.
“You will not!” Miranda said, and her hot tone now sounded a bit like her mom.
“Confess what?” Her mom repeated Burnett’s inquiry.
“Your daughter got some outside help with the competition.”
“My daughter does not cheat!” Her mom started moving toward Shawn.
Miranda caught her arm and held on for dear life. Her mom did Pilates and aerobics three times a week, so it wasn’t easy.
Burnett shot between Shawn and her mom as if fearing for his junior agent’s life. About time Burnett realized what he was dealing with.
“What are you saying?” Burnett asked Shawn, holding out a hand in case her mom got free.
“I sent her a surge of calm.”
“You? You sent it?” her mom seethed and yanked out of Miranda’s hold.
“Yes,” Shawn said.
Her mom cut her eyes back to Miranda. “Did you ask him to send that to you?”
“No,” she and Shawn said at the same time.
“Good!” Her mom stretched out her hand and pointed her pinky.
“No.” Burnett moved closer to her mother and ever so gently lowered her arm. “Can we please calm down and let me figure out what’s going on?”
“Winning this competition puts your daughter’s life at risk.” Shawn moved around Burnett.
“Why would it put her life at risk?” she asked, and when Shawn didn’t answer, she turned her head and glared at Burnett. Miranda knew that look. It was the same one her mom shot her dad before she turned him into a baboon.
“You,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “You had better start talking before I render you mute.”
Damn it! This was just going to get worse.
* * *
Burnett told her the whole story about the two girls who’d been murdered. Miranda’s mom, her face lacking color, dropped down into a chair. Miranda went and stood beside her.
Her mom looked up at her and then reached over and took Miranda’s hand.
“Do you know who … who is doing this?”
“Not yet,” Burnett said. “The problem is that it doesn’t necessarily have to be the finalists here in the U.S. I’m told there will be twenty finalists from all over the world. I’ll be contacting them or their families to confirm nothing has happened to them.”
“The thing is, Miranda has a reason to recuse herself,” Shawn spoke up. “Right now it appears the killer is taking out contestants. Right?” He focused on Burnett.
“It appears—”
Shawn didn’t let him finish before starting up again. “So if she drops out now, the chances are she won’t be in danger. She won’t have to go to Paris,” he continued, driving home his point.
A point she didn’t appreciate. “No,” Miranda snapped. “I’m going to Paris.”
Her mom looked up. “Not if your life is in danger, you aren’t.”
Miranda heard the words, but couldn’t believe them. Winning, or rather, Miranda making high priestess, meant everything to her mom. Miranda’s chest squeezed and she felt a knot rise in her throat. For the first time in years, Miranda felt loved. And for some crazy reason, the emotion tightening her throat and making her chest ache made the thought of disappointing her mom almost unbearable.
“I’ll be okay.” She pushed the words out. “Burnett will protect me.”
“But, baby, if something happened to you, I … I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Nothing is going to happen. He won’t let it,” Miranda insisted and waved a hand toward Burnett.
Everyone turned and looked at Burnett as if for confirmation.
He sighed. “If I thought by dropping out you would be out of danger, I would have already gotten your name off the list. You see, we just found out that one of the girls who was murdered had dropped out of the competition three days ago. And since I’m going to be going to France, I would rather you be near me than here.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m going, too,” Kylie spoke up, looking directly at Miranda’s mom. “I won’t let anything happen to her.” Kylie’s blue gaze shifted from her mother to Miranda. Warmth filled Miranda’s lungs. Nothing like best friends.
“She’s a protector,” Miranda spoke up. “More powerful than anyone when someone she loves is in danger. So you see, it’s going to be fine.” She glanced at Della. “You’re going, too, right? Mom’s paying for it.” Miranda looked at her mom for confirmation. Her mom nodded, then Miranda refocused on Della.
“I…” Della’s frown gave Miranda her answer and she didn’t like it.
“I just really want—”
“Yes, she will be going.” Burnett took a step forward.
Della turned her confused gaze on the big bad vampire and shook her head. “With what’s going on here with my dad, I don’t think…”
“You need to—”
Della shook her head and spoke again. “I’m sure between you and Kylie, you can—”
“Hear me out,” Burnett said with a growl. “A lead in the case you’re working just popped up in DeVille, France. You’re going to want to go.”
“What lead?” Della snapped. Her eyes widened with interest. “Chase?”
Miranda knew the case that Della was working was about her father’s murder conviction—the eighteen-year-old murder of his own sister. And the person who might have info on it was Chase, another super vampire, who had saved Della’s life by blending his blood with hers when she went through the second turn. Supposedly, the blending of blood had bonded the two together. But then Della found out he’d been lying to her and had connections to her father’s brother who was a possible rogue vamp, who the FRU, and Della, believed to be the real murderer.
“Is it Chase?” Della insisted when Burnett didn’t answer immediately.
He nodded. “I go
“Wait,” Kylie spoke up. “You don’t think these two cases are connected, do you?”
“Not that we can see right now,” Burnett said. “But I agree, it’s almost too much of a coincidence.”
Della’s chest expanded and her eyes brightened with emotion, though what emotion, Miranda couldn’t say.
Della glanced back at Miranda. “Looks like I’ll be going.”
* * *
Two days later, the cool afternoon wind whipped Miranda’s hair around her face. She stood on a small patch of grass and stared up at the Eiffel Tower. Kylie and Della stood beside her. Her two best friends in the world, but even their presence wasn’t offering the comfort she longed for.
And hanging back about a hundred feet was the blond warlock. Miranda could feel his gaze on her. She hadn’t spoken to him since the competition. It still pissed her off that he’d gone against her wishes and threatened to get her thrown out.
They had arrived in Paris that morning. Her mom wasn’t supposed to arrive for two more days. Miranda was jetlagged and emotionally exhausted. Out of precaution, Burnett had taken them to an apartment, not the designated hotel where all the contestants were to stay. As silly as it sounded, Miranda has been relieved that the apartment building didn’t have gargoyles. She hated gargoyles and just walking over here, she’d shuddered at the sight of several glaring down at her from the neighboring buildings’ eaves.
They had crashed for about six hours. But upon waking up, Miranda had begged Burnett to let them go out.
In his normal overly protective fashion, Burnett refused. Miranda had been about to protest, but Della beat her to the punch. She insisted they hadn’t come all the way to Paris to stare at an apartment’s white walls. The vamp had complained since they’d landed in France that Burnett wasn’t letting her take off to DeVille to work on her own investigation. Burnett relented with one condition: they’d take a tagalong. Hence, Shawn, following them like a lost puppy. She wished he’d stop staring at her. The temptation to zap blinders on him tickled her pinky.
Miranda wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do. Oh, hell, she did know. She wanted to go see Perry, but she just wasn’t sure it was the right thing.
She’d bit her tongue a hundred times to stop herself from asking Burnett if Perry knew she was coming. But if he knew, it would break her heart because he hadn’t come to see her yet. Did he not miss her at all? Did he not care anymore? Were all the things he’d told her these last six months lies? How could he just stop caring?
The damp cold seemed to sneak beneath Miranda’s pale green jacket and her heart ached a little more. Reaching up, she touched her spoon-pendant necklace then pulled the coat around her a little tighter.
“Oh!” Della seethed. “I just stepped in dog crap. Isn’t there like a poop police?”
“Can’t you just enjoy Paris?” Miranda snapped.
“Look who’s talking, you can’t look at any of the buildings because the gargoyles scare you.”
“So I’m afraid of gargoyles. Did you know some of them are actually demons?” Miranda snapped back with sass and regretted confiding her fear with them.
Looking away, she went back to staring up at one of Paris’s biggest attractions. After several long moments, she felt Della’s and Kylie’s gazes on her as if waiting for her to say something. Deciding to at least try to be compliant for once, she offered, “It’s a big tower.”
“Why the hell are we here?” Della asked. “We all know what you want to do.”
Miranda knew exactly what Della meant, but it pissed her off that Della herself didn’t want the same thing. Perry hadn’t come alone to Paris. With him was Steve, Della’s sort-of ex.
How could Della not be aching to see Steve? Had Della given up on Steve the way Perry had given up on her?
“Yeah,” Miranda smarted back. “Let’s go to the Louvre. Seeing some chubby-cheeked lady with a fake smile is more exciting.”
“Get your head out of your ass,” Della snapped. “If you want to find Perry just say so and let’s get it over with.”
Miranda shot the vamp a cold glare. “I don’t know if I want to see him.”
“Please,” Della said. “I’d bet my best bra that’s the reason you won. Just to come here to see him.”
“What?” Miranda asked. “You want me to say I have to see Perry so you can see Steve? Why don’t you just grow some fangs and admit you want to see him?”
Della’s eyes grew bright with anger—probably the fangs slur pissed her off—but the vamp was always throwing witch insults at Miranda. Or maybe it wasn’t the vamp criticism, but her friend was as miserable about Steve as Miranda was about Perry. Miranda almost felt guilty.
“If I wanted to see Steve, I would be there now! I’m not the coward,” Della snapped and her tone pushed Miranda’s guilt back. “You pinky-twitching little twit.”
The last comment validated Miranda’s anger and she rolled her eyes, waiting for Kylie to tell Della to cool it. Kylie was the mediator, the peacekeeper. When she didn’t do her job, Miranda turned her eyes on blondie. “Aren’t you going to tell her to behave?”
Kylie made a funny face. “Nah, I thought I’d let you two just kill each other and get it over with. It’s been a long time coming.”
“Can I? Can I kill her?” Della smarted off again. “Please. I know! What if I feed her to the gargoyles?”
“Not funny!” Miranda frowned and looked away from her friends. A part of her knew she was being a bitch, but damn it, she was hurting too much to be anything else. Right then, she felt it. The ominous feeling she’d gotten when she’d been on stage.
“It’s back,” she said and looked around.
“What?” Della asked.
“Trouble. Trouble’s back.”
“Define trouble,” Della said.
“The kind that brings fireballs.” Miranda looked around, left and right, and there, behind a group of Asian tourists, she spotted a mane of red hair. Tabitha stood fifty feet away staring up at the Eiffel Tower. Did that mean she was conjuring it?
“We’ve got company.” Della lifted her nose in the air.
“I know. I already see her,” Miranda said, and when she turned back to Della, she spotted two other familiar faces. The twins, Candy and Sandy Gleason, about three hundred feet away caught in the middle of another group of Eiffel Tower admirers.
“Where?” Della snapped.
“Tabitha’s there and then—”
“No,” Kylie said and raised her face to sniff the air. “She means vampire. There’re several close by and they reek of old human blood.”
“Yeah, but they’re still probably nicer than Tabitha.” From the corner of Miranda’s eye, she saw a blurry figure swoop past, and it flew around the six Asians with their cell phone cameras focused on the tower.
Miranda watched in horror as the figure swooped down on Tabitha.
“There,” Miranda screamed and took off.
Forget being the first to spot the vamp or the first to run, Kylie and Della surged forward, followed by Shawn, and the three of them passed her in a fraction of a second.
Hating her lack of speed, Miranda stopped and watched in horror as the scraggily looking vampire stopped behind Tabitha, reached one hand around her chest, and pressed his other hand on the side of her face. She’d seen it in the movies, the scary-looking position that made it easy to twist and break someone’s neck. Fear rose in Tabitha’s blue eyes. The same fear clutched Miranda’s stomach.
Chapter Eight
Archenemy or not, her heart ached for Tabitha. Regretting her snarky comments about the girl, she recalled preschool when she and Tabitha shared a love of the same cookies, the same nursery rhymes, and anything princess related.
“Stop him!” Miranda screamed. She raised her hand to throw a spell.
“Let her go,” Kylie said, her voice a deep rumble as Miranda’s spell went on hold. Kylie, the p
The greasy, dark-haired vamp laughed as if nothing was going to stop him. His dirty clothes and overall appearance marked him as rogue.
The yellow-toothed smile of confidence just meant he didn’t have a clue he was up against a protector and a super vampire. He pressed his hand roughly into Tabitha’s cheek, but before he could get any rougher, Kylie caught his arm. With little effort, she slung him up and over her head and he landed with a dark thud on the cold ground. Della shot forward in case he tried to get up.
Screams rose from the crowd of tourists and they scurried about like rats without a maze. Then it started raining vampires. Two, three, four. Della and Shawn charged, each taking on two. Kylie took on three.
Miranda’s gaze flipped from one fight to the other, then landed on Tabitha. The girl dropped to her knees and ungracefully lost the contents of her stomach. Miranda got about twenty feet from the girl when the feeling of danger increased. Warning chills ran down her spine. She glanced up and saw the cannon-sized fireball barreling from the sky. Barreling right at Tabitha.
Knowing Della, Shawn, and Kylie were too busy dealing with rogue vamps to see the fireball, Miranda raised her hand, wiggled her pinky, and shrunk the size of the ball to a dime. It hit the ground about two feet from Tabitha. The girl screamed and stood up as if to run.
Shifting her gaze around to see if any more trouble had arisen, Miranda spotted Shawn, now fighting three vamps with a glowing sword. She’d heard about honor swords given to a few warlocks who were gifted with strong integrity and an abundance of magic.
When the fourth vamp came up against Shawn, Miranda decided he could use some help. Holding out her arm, trying to think of a spell that wouldn’t be noted by humans, she saw a large, black-and-tan German shepherd and two French bulldogs. “Got this,” she muttered. “Attack him.” Right as her pinky twitched, she realized her mistake. The last detail she’d held in her dyslexic mind had been Della’s comment about all the poop, not the dogs.
In horror, she watched as piles of dog excrement rose from the grassy knoll and were slung at the fourth vamp.