Midnight Hour

  The armadillo faded. The light vanished. Then Holiday walked through the wall of water.

  “Are you okay?” The fae’s wide eyes told Miranda her tattoos were back.

  Miranda stood. “I’m fine.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like to talk—”

  “Not now,” Miranda blurted out. She didn’t like keeping secrets, but she knew as clear as she knew her name, the armadillo hadn’t been lying. If she told anyone, people she loved would die. “I asked Kyle and Della not to bother you.”

  “They didn’t. I just came down for a visit.” Holiday hugged her. “Did you learn anything here?”

  Miranda couldn’t lie. “Yes. But I’m still digesting it.”

  After a few minutes, Miranda left. Her two best friends, like Holiday, respected Miranda’s requests not to talk. As they walked back, she attempted to cling to the peace she’d found. Unfortunately, all but a little of it slipped away like an old memory fading with time.

  However, she drew some peace by focusing on the trees. You draw strength from them, and them from you.

  But she couldn’t lie to herself. The thought of leaving Shadow Falls, without telling anyone, already felt like a betrayal.

  When they rounded the turn to their cabin, she saw Perry on their porch.

  Her true love.

  She took off running. She ran right into his arms. He must have showered, because he smelled of man’s soap, of wind. But he felt like pain.

  * * *

  For two hours, Perry helped Miranda study. She’d tried asking him about his day—his pain—he’d avoided answering. As much as she resented it, she couldn’t fuss. She wasn’t talking about everything, either.

  He’d asked her why she was wet. She told him about the falls, she’d told him how beautiful it was, and how she’d sensed Tabitha would be okay.

  Later that night, her pajamas on, his shirt off, they resumed their position in bed. She felt his heart beating against her ear. With every thu-thump she felt his pain. She remembered what the armadillo had said about her feeling other’s emotions.

  “Are you okay?” She lifted her head.

  He shot her a smile, one that wasn’t a complete lie, but he used his smiles to cover his pain.

  “Hard day,” he said. “But now I’m good.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  He spoke quickly. “No. It’s not that I don’t want to share, Miranda, but I don’t want to go back there right now. I don’t want that here.”

  She placed her hand on his chest, knowing his heart hurt. “We don’t have to tell each other everything. Not right away. We can tell each other later.”

  He kissed her. It was the first real kiss he’d given her in a few days. It felt good, so good she shifted, rested on top of him, and let the kiss deepen. She ran her fingers over his abs, loving the ripples. He slipped his hand under her pajama top, touching her naked back.

  Loving it. Needing more. She sat up and pulled her top off.

  They touched, they tasted, they kissed. They’d set these rules and abided by them in the past. Anything above the belt. Lost in the magic and the delicious feeling, she wanted more. She started to slip off her pajama bottoms.

  He caught her hand, broke the kiss, but leaned in so close they breathed the same birthday-cake scented air. “No. Not like this. Soon though.”

  He smiled then. A real smile. One that reached down inside her and made her happy. Hopeful.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he slid her top over her head. When he did, she noticed—as Della had put it—she had her tattoo groove on. But she wasn’t the least bit self-conscious. She saw the way his eyes watched the shirt lower over her breasts. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “I love you, too,” she said, then giggled. “More than ice cream.”

  He countered. “More than flying.”

  She brushed her finger over his smile. “My Peter.”

  He lifted up on his elbow. “That reminds me. How did things go with your mom?”

  She told him about the conversation with her mom, and even got teary-eyed. “But the good news is, you’re not the only one who comes from rough stock.” She told him about the rape and the murder.

  Afterward, he told her about his mom’s pimples.

  “I didn’t do that. I swear.”

  “Yes you did.” He kissed again. It got hot again. Hands went back to touching. But her shirt stayed on.

  He finally pulled away, breathing hard. Everything about him … hard.

  “We need to sleep,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

  Coming back down from that high, and staying down, was hard. Especially with him, still shirtless, pressed against her.

  As she lay there listening to him breathe, she couldn’t help but think about what the armadillo had said and worry about how it would go down.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  On Tuesday before lunch, Shawn walked into the hospital. This could be a big mistake. But damn it, he kept hearing Miranda. Then decide what you want. Don’t let your mother’s opinions override what you feel.

  Was his reluctance to get involved with anyone other than a Wiccan because of his mother? She’d certainly preached it to him all his life. So yeah, maybe it was?

  He didn’t like that answer, so he decided to play with fire. He’d decided to stop avoiding Lily. See what happened.

  He’d even asked Burnett for this assignment. Mr. Crow had gotten out of the hospital a couple of days ago. And now Lily was being discharged, too. Burnett had put a guard 24-7 on the house.

  They’d told the Crows the truth. Or part of the truth. They suspected it was Lily’s family behind the robbery. Until they were caught, a guard would be watching them. Since the two goons Jax had hired to kill her had been caught, some of the pressure was off. But not completely. Jax could send someone else.

  When he got to her door, Lucas was standing guard.

  The were nodded. “They’re bringing her walking papers any minute. You got it from here?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Shawn had noticed a little awkwardness from both Lucas and Chase as if they worried he might somehow blame them for not warning him about Perry and Miranda. Yeah, it dinged Shawn’s ego a bit, but he wasn’t going to let it affect their friendship. Or work relationship.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

  Lily sat in the bed dressed to go. When her gaze found him, her eyes widened. He couldn’t tell if it was from anger or surprise.

  “Well, look who the dog dragged up.” Her words came off angry, but her tone wasn’t. Color him confused.

  “I’ve been putting in a lot of work hours.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “I bet.”

  Her backpack, opened, was beside her. He remembered when it had been full of money. Remembered he’d been responsible for a lot of her pain since.

  “Need help packing?”

  “Nope. It’s done.” She studied him. “You the one giving me a lift home?”

  He nodded, prepared to be slammed with insults.

  She smiled. “Should I go ahead and take a pain pill now?”

  He bit back a smile. “I know you don’t believe this, but I’m really a good agent. When I’m around you I…” He paused, unsure how to say it. “I end up thinking more about you than what I need to be doing.”

  Her eyes widened. “So I should take the pill now?”

  He laughed. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

  They left the hospital, and while he never stopped checking their surroundings, they made small talk. Weather. Where she’d traveled. Their favorite restaurants.

  Right before he turned down her street, she asked, “Did your girlfriend love the bracelet?”

  He pulled into her driveway. A black sedan sat outside the house—the agent on duty. Shawn ran his hand over his steering wheel.

  “We broke up.”

  The tension in the car rose.
br />   Then she chuckled. “Why? Did you put her in the hospital, too?”

  He laughed. “No. I think I was a rebound relationship for her. The guy came back and she bounded right back to him.”

  Lily made a sad face. “Sorry.”

  “I’m okay with it. There was something missing between us.”

  She tilted her head to the side a little as if listening to his heart. Then she met his gaze. “Maybe we’ll see each other later.” She got out of the car before he could say anything.

  Shawn watched her until she got in the house and knew she was safe. “Yeah.” Smiling, he pulled away. “Maybe we will.”

  * * *

  Wednesday evening, Perry drove Burnett’s new car to Mrs. Conner’s. He’d seen her yesterday at the agency and she’d all but threatened to neuter him if he didn’t show up for dinner. Then today, during lunch, she’d called to remind him. He’d gone to her house before, but to make sure, he’d taken down her address.

  He hoped she didn’t plan on a late evening. He missed Miranda so badly his toenails hurt. They’d spoken on the phone for two hours last night, but he hadn’t gone to her place—hadn’t slept with her in his arms. Not just because he’d been exhausted from running down leads but because of how hard it had been to hold back with her the night before.

  She’d asked him to wait until this was over, and by damn he was going to wait. Tonight he hoped she’d be wearing something really ugly to sleep in.

  Glancing down at the files on the passenger seat, Perry’s hands on the steering wheel tightened. All of his leads on Caleb and the warlock gang had been a wash. They had a few more addresses to check tomorrow before Perry would admit failure.

  And his dad had texted to say Jax wanted to meet tomorrow night.

  The thought of turning up empty-handed at Jax’s hurt like a toothache. Not because he gave a damn what his asshole half brother thought, but because he needed to win his trust so he’d hand over information about the warlock gang.

  The plan was if they didn’t get anything in the next two days, they’d storm Jax’s house and hope like hell Jax, or one of his men, would turn over the information on the gang that held Tabitha. His worry was that Jax or his men wouldn’t turn over anything. Perry had to find something out and fast. But how? How could he get his brother to trust him enough to tell him things?

  Perry reached into the backseat for the flowers he’d bought for Mrs. Conner. When he told Miranda about his dinner tonight, she’d suggested he bring flowers. Call it silly, but he liked her making sure he did the right thing. It made them feel like … a real couple again. Probably because he’d heard Holiday tell Burnett things like that.

  Getting out of the car, Perry went around and checked all the locks. The fact that Burnett had offered to let him use his classic Mustang said a lot. The man loved his cars.

  At times Perry wondered how he could tell an undemonstrative vamp how much he cared without sounding mushy. Maybe he should ask Miranda.

  He rang the doorbell.

  Mr. Conner, also a were, greeted Perry at the door. “I’m glad you came. She was going to send me after your butt if you didn’t. She purposely left out garlic from the meatballs just for you.”

  Perry laughed. Mr. Conner still had a couple of inches on Perry. Everyone described the couple as Mutt and Jeff. He was a gentle giant, his wife was a tiny spitfire.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Perry said. “She threatened to have me neutered if I did.”

  “And she’d probably do it, too,” the old man said. “She got me neutered after our fourth kid.”

  “Is it Perry?” Mrs. Conner called from the kitchen.

  “Yup,” Perry answered.

  “Come and let me show you my spoon collection now that I’ve got them all up!”

  After oohing and aahing over the spoons and the photos of her grandkids, she found a vase for the flowers, and they sat down for dinner. Her table was set with expensive-looking white plates and cloth napkins, but Perry would bet no one tried to put the napkin in his lap. Mrs. Conner told a few stories about when she worked the field as an FRU agent. The woman might stand less than five feet, but Perry didn’t doubt she’d been good at the job.

  They had finished eating salad when the doorbell rang. Mrs. Conner stood up. “I hate it when my dinner parties are interrupted. But it’s probably another Girl Scout selling cookies. And I can’t say no.” She grabbed her purse on the way out of the kitchen.

  Voices came from the other room. Perry couldn’t distinguish what was being said.

  Mr. Conner suddenly dropped his fork and shot out of his chair. He hadn’t gotten around the table when he stopped and gasped.

  Perry looked up. His breath caught, and he gripped the edge of the table. Caleb had Mrs. Conner and was shoving her into the kitchen. He didn’t hold a weapon, but with his arm around her neck and a hand on the opposite side of her head, it was evident how he planned to kill her. One jerk could break the elderly woman’s neck.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” Caleb tightened his arm around Mrs. Conner’s neck. Her face reddened from the lack of air flow.

  “What do you want?” Perry asked, feeling his pulse thump against his tonsils.

  “To prove to Jax that he’s wrong about you and that ass of a father you’ve got. And now I’ve got the proof. He’ll make me his top man. And he’ll make you … dead.”

  Perry wasn’t sure what proof Caleb meant, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. It wasn’t even himself he was concerned about, it was Mrs. Conner.

  Mr. Conner leered at the man, his gaze bright orange.

  Perry stood up, slowly. “Let her go,” he seethed. “She’s not part of whatever proof you need. Let’s you and I go outside and play.”

  “But it’s dinnertime.” Caleb’s eyes zeroed in on Perry as he pushed Mrs. Conner to move in a few more feet.

  Fear filled Perry. Caleb was going to kill her. Kill her right in front of Perry. No.

  He hadn’t decided his next move, when Mrs. Conner extended her hand out, snagged a knife from the counter, and drove it into Caleb’s stomach.

  She cleared her throat, yanked the blade out, then glared up at Caleb now leaning against the wall. “No one interrupts my dinner parties! Except Girl Scouts.”

  Hatred filled Caleb’s eyes. An iridescent bubble floated up.

  “Back up!” Perry flew across the table. Knowing he had only a fraction of a second to strike—the word “strike” giving him the idea—he morphed into a red spitting cobra.

  The venom hit Caleb’s face. Blinded, he shifted slower. Perry sank his teeth into the man’s arm, but too late to stop the morph. Caleb in Big Foot form rose to eight feet.

  Perry, knowing the stab wound and venom would at the least slow the beast down, tried to strike again. The beast dodged him, then, accepting his weakened state, turned and shot out the door.

  Perry gave chase, slithering through the living room at top speed.

  Caleb crashed through the closed door, sending wood splintering, but wavered as he ran. The venom must have done more damage than Perry realized.

  Darting forward, Perry hoped to bring the beast down with another bite, but the damn creature leapt off the porch. Perry slithered after him. Caleb made it to the road, then reached for …

  Not Burnett’s Mustang!

  Too late. Caleb picked up the car and tossed it. Perry raced through the grass, barely escaping the car. The sound of metal crunching rang loud as the car rolled forward and landed upside down.

  Caleb turned to run. Perry rose up and threw himself, hoping to sink his fangs into the beast’s shoulder. Right before he made contact, Caleb swung around and caught Perry around his upper body. The beast squeezed, his fat fingers sinking, damaging the snake’s vital internal organs. The beast won. Perry could morph back to human, unharmed, but that would be when Caleb would come in for the real kill. Perry would die.

  Knowing he had seconds of snake life left, he lunged his head forward and sa
nk his fangs into Caleb’s neck, sending venom into his carotid artery.

  The beast dropped to his knees. Bubbles started popping off of him.

  Perry clung to stay alive, the pain almost unbearable, hoping he had enough venom to stop Caleb if he came out of the shift unharmed.

  One, two seconds later, the beast disappeared and Caleb lay there. His breathing was shallow, his eyes closed. Blood oozed from his gut where he’d been knifed.

  Perry, unable to hold back any longer, shifted. The pain in his ribs made breathing impossible, but he managed to grab his phone and dial Burnett.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Perry sat in Holiday’s office across from Burnett. Help had been sent to try and save Caleb. He died as they rushed him to Dr. Whitman’s office. Dr. Whitman concluded the cause of death had been the snake bite—the one Perry had given right before Caleb had shifted.

  “Maybe we should reinstate Mrs. Conner,” Burnett said.

  Perry forced a grin. He knew what he’d done was right. Caleb would’ve killed him and the Conners, and he’d already killed Bell. Still, knowing he’d taken a life didn’t sit well on his empty stomach.

  He gripped his hands in his lap. “My dad said Caleb had wanted to follow me to have a reason to turn me over to Jax. He must have followed me there. But how … Shit. Mrs. Conner made me repeat her address back to her today. Caleb must have been around. I never even sensed I was being followed.”

  “I didn’t sense him, either,” Burnett said.

  Perry looked up. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Burnett asked.

  For killing someone. “Your car?” He tried to make light of things. Change the subject.

  “At least it wasn’t your Ferrari,” Perry said.

  “Sold it.”

  “You loved that car.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Maybe you’ll start driving the Porsche now,” Perry said.

  “Sold it, too.” Burnett glanced at him as if he sensed what Perry was doing, but he obviously decided to let it ride. “Holiday and I bought twenty-five acres next to the camp. We want to expand to take in more students. There’re thirty chameleons applying this fall. We still had to apply for a loan to finance the cabin construction. We’re hoping it clears and we can get everything up and running before September.”