No one was in the hall, but a light flashed from the kitchen doorway as if someone opened the refrigerator. She moved her sock feet down the wood floor to see who was raiding the fridge.
As she inched past the door to another bedroom, the one where Tabitha and Sienna had taken refuge, she heard someone talking. She stopped, half considering knocking and insisting Tabitha come out and talk. But then she heard Sienna say, “Look, Mom, I can’t do anything about it. That FRU agent says I have to stay here. Fine, call him and tell him you’re picking me up and I’ll go.”
Was Tabitha asleep? Or was she the one in the kitchen?
Right before stepping into the doorway, she realized it might be Shawn. Oh, damn! There was a good chance it was Shawn. And considering the time, he could be … well, half naked. Did she want to have a late-night encounter with a partially clothed Shawn?
Her heart did a couple of somersaults. The answer was both a yes and a no. She considered turning around, but decided to just take a peek and make sure it wasn’t Tabitha before running. It had nothing to do with her trying to envision Shawn half naked.
Moving her head past the door frame, she peered inside. Not a half-naked Shawn. Not that she could see the face. Yet the person who had their head buried in the fridge wore a light blue nightgown. Not Shawn.
The person stood up, and red hair swung down her back.
It was time—time for her and Tabitha to have that talk.
“Hey.” Miranda stepped into the room.
Tabitha, obviously startled, yelped, swung around, and hurled a condiment bottle at her.
Miranda ducked. The bottle whizzed over her head and smacked against something.
She turned around. The bottle had landed on a half-naked Shawn—a very nice-looking half-naked Shawn. Wearing only a pair of boxers, he held a bottle in his hand. Across his bare and gorgeous chest was a spray of red goo.
Ketchup.
“Sorry,” Tabitha offered and then let out a sudden snicker. “I … she startled me.” She pressed a hand over her lips.
Miranda couldn’t help it. She chuckled as well.
Shawn glanced down at his chest, moved into the kitchen a few steps, and placed the opened bottle on the table. He looked up, and his blue eyes settled on Miranda. His warm gaze swept down and up her body. Hadn’t she deemed this nightshirt decent? Why did she suddenly feel half naked herself?
“I’m glad I could entertain you two,” he said in a sleepy voice and walked out.
Miranda watched him leave, noting he looked as good going as he did coming. Then she wanted to cover her eyes thinking she shouldn’t have noticed.
“It’s nothing.” Shawn’s voice echoed from the hall. “Just ketchup.” Footsteps continued, two sets. One leading away and one coming closer.
Kylie appeared in the door frame. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Miranda said. “I surprised Tabitha, and she … threw a bottle of ketchup. It hit Shawn.”
“Oh.” Kylie leaned back on her heels and looked down the hall as if watching Shawn go. When she turned back a smile was on her lips. “Did he get mad?”
“Just a little annoyed.” Miranda grinned. Then she tilted her head to the side, cutting her eyes at Tabitha, hoping Kylie would understand that she wanted to talk to the redhead.
Kylie must have gotten the message. “Okay, I’ll go back to bed.” She walked away, leaving Miranda and Tabitha alone.
Miranda turned and faced Tabitha. Her hair hung loose, and without any makeup, she looked younger … and … familiar. Suddenly, Miranda could see what Kylie had mentioned earlier. She and Tabitha did sort of look alike.
Were they cousins? If so, how sad was it that they’d been kept apart all this time. And for what? An argument between sisters?
Tension seemed to rise from the tile floor and crowd the room.
“Why did you do it?” Tabitha asked.
“Do what?” Miranda shifted on her feet.
“Save my life. Why?”
Miranda considered the question and then shrugged. “It wasn’t as if I thought about it. I saw the fireball and just did it.”
“Are you sorry you did it?” Tabitha asked.
“No,” Miranda said and tried to find a way to figure out if she was right about them being related.
Tabitha frowned. “Then you are a better person than I am, because I don’t know if I’d have done it for you.”
“Nice to know,” Miranda replied, trying not to be too offended, but how could she not? The girl would have let the fireball fry her butt.
“You hate me that much?” Miranda asked.
“I hate your mother that much.” Tabitha clutched her fists at her sides.
“Why? Just because your mom hates my mom, you hate her?” Miranda asked. “Don’t you think—”
“That’s only part of it.” Tightness deepened her tone.
Miranda tried to make sense of what Tabitha was saying, and finally gave up. “What’s the other part? What happened between them?”
Tabitha just stared. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“I think I do,” Miranda said and when Tabitha didn’t chime in, Miranda decided to say it. “It’s apparent that we share talents, so that would make us blood.”
Tabitha nodded, slowly, her expression one of pain as if admitting it hurt. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
Miranda rolled her eyes. The girl could just kiss her grits! Miranda wasn’t all that crazy about being related to her either.
“So our mothers … they were sisters, right?” Miranda asked.
“What?” Astonishment flashed in Tabitha’s eyes. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know … what?” Miranda asked. When all Tabitha did was gape at her, Miranda added, “Holy hell! Just tell me.”
She would have loved to fake it, pretend she knew the secret. Frankly, Miranda didn’t like feeling ignorant, but her need for answers wiped out the embarrassment.
Tabitha shook her head as if in pity. “How could you not have figured it out? Are you stupid?”
Chapter Eleven
Stupid? Oh, Miranda did not like that word!
“Well, Miss Smarty Pants, why don’t you just fill me in!” Miranda seethed. She cupped her hands at her sides to keep from wiggling her pinky at the girl to give her pimples.
“They aren’t sisters. We are!”
Miranda’s breath caught. She remembered what Kylie had said. Now that I consider it, you and Tabitha sort of look alike. I mean, she has red hair and blue eyes, but if you just compare facial features, you two could be sisters. Her mind started spinning. “How … how could that be possible?”
“Your slut of a mother had sex with my dad, that’s how!”
“My mom’s not—”
“Please! Figure it out, or do you suck at math, too? I’m five months older than you.”
“Whoa! Stop!” Miranda held up her hand, her pinky itching to send some nasty spell Tabitha’s way. “First, my mother’s not a slut and second…” She didn’t have a second. Yes, she did. “My parents have been married since—”
“They aren’t married! He’s married to my mom! She was pregnant with me when your mom threw herself at my dad.”
“No,” Miranda said, realizing how stupid this all was. “My dad’s name is Kane and yours is—”
“Yeah, I know he also goes by Austin Kane, and your mom had her name changed to Kane. Hence, you are a Kane. But his real name is Austin Evans. I know because I’ve seen his birth certificate. He was born in England. My mother is Irish. They met and married there.”
“No,” Miranda snapped. “You’re lying. This is like a mean trick, or something.”
Kylie appeared in the doorway behind Tabitha. No doubt the arguing had roused her again. “What’s wrong?” Kylie asked.
Tabitha ignored Kylie. “This is no trick! Don’t be a fool.” Tabitha’s voice rose with anger. “What does he tell you when he leaves? That he’s working? Because that’s what he tell
s me. Of course, unlike you, I’m not foolish enough to believe it.”
Everything in Miranda’s life suddenly felt like a lie. She felt like a fool. “If you’re lying to me, I swear I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Turn me into a skunk, like you did to your friend’s cat? Or are you going for a kangaroo, this time? Not that it matters. Because I’m not lying. And I can see in your eyes that you already know I’m not. Accept it, Miranda. Your mother is a slut and you’re nothing more than a bastard child.”
Fury rose through Miranda. She clutched her fists. She wanted nothing more than to twitch her pinky and turn the twit into something nasty—something worse than a skunk. And she would have if there wasn’t doubt eating away at her heart. As much as she hated to admit it, there was truth in this witch’s words.
* * *
“You don’t know if it’s true,” Kylie said as she followed Miranda back to the bedroom a few minutes after Tabitha took off to hers. “It could just be a lie.”
“Do you think so?” Miranda wanted to believe it. Wanted it so badly that her heart trembled. But damn it, it made sense. Her dad’s work schedule, her mom hating Tabitha’s mom. It had never been about cookies. Did that mean…? No, she couldn’t believe the part about her mom being a slut. She could not believe her mom would be happy being the other woman. Then again, there was the fact that Tabitha was five months older than Miranda. Oh, hell, maybe my mom is a slut! Tears stung her eyes.
She snatched her phone from the bedside table. “I’m gonna find out.”
She went to contacts. Found the word “Daddy.” Her finger hovered right over the word. Those tears that had stung her sinuses now filled her eyes and she felt the warm drops roll down her cheeks. How could he have lied to her all this time? How could her mom accept his lies? How could Miranda love the man and know so little about him?
“How do I ask him?” She looked up at Kylie, blinking away the blurry wetness.
“I … don’t know. Just ask.”
“And say what? Hey, Dad, do you have another family you haven’t told me about?”
Kylie, sensing her emotion, dropped down beside her and hugged her tight. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Miranda said, even as the calm emotion flowed from her friend’s touch, but it wasn’t enough to stop the knot of pain throbbing inside her. “Tabitha’s right, I’m a fool not to have figured this out. He’s only home a couple of weeks a month.”
“Look, I know how you feel. It’s hard to realize that our parents aren’t the people we grew up thinking they are. I learned my dad was really just my stepdad, and he was boinking his intern who was only a few years older than me. My mom had been lying to me about who my dad was, and keeping me from my real grandparents. But believe me when I tell you that while it hurts realizing they aren’t the perfect people we want them to be, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. If anything, learning the truth has helped my relationship with both my mom and my stepdad.”
Miranda wiped her eyes. “Having an affair is one thing, but having another family is … is … How can that ever be okay? If what Tabitha says is true, I didn’t even know my own father’s real name.” A moan left her lips. Even to her own ears, it sounded pathetic, but she couldn’t help it.
She felt pathetic.
Glancing down at her phone, she touched the word “Daddy.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Kylie stood up.
“I don’t care,” Miranda said. “I’ll tell you everything anyway.” She always did. She and Della were her sounding boards—sometimes she didn’t even know how she felt about things until she talked to them.
She put the phone to her ear, and held her breath waiting for the phone to ring. Her heart started to race with the first ring. She looked up at her friend. “Shit! What am I going to say to him?”
Kylie simply made a face as if to say she didn’t have an answer. “Maybe you aren’t ready to talk to him yet.”
As tempting as it was to hang up, Miranda didn’t. Turned out, she didn’t have to. On the fifth ring, the call went to her dad’s voice mail.
A big wave of relief washed over her. Kylie was right. She wasn’t ready to tackle this. Not with her dad at least. But there was one parent she was accustomed to arguing with. One that was possibly a home wrecker.
She hung up and immediately started to call her mom, but then quickly changed her mind.
Tossing her cell down on the bed, she reached for a pillow to hug. As crazy as it was, her first thought was that she wanted Perry. To have him hold her. To hear him tell her it would be okay. His touch, his tenderness, his kisses, they always made her feel okay. Even more than Kylie and Della, Perry had felt like her soul mate. Now her soul mate was gone and he hadn’t even bothered to call her. Hadn’t even come to see her and she was here in Paris.
Rolling onto her side, she looked up at Kylie, who stared down at her with empathy.
“I used to think I was the lucky one,” Miranda said. “Your home life was crazy and then Della’s dad being accused of murder. Sure, my mom can be a bitch about me not being high priestess material, but I thought at least I didn’t have the crazy kind of problems you two did. Now I realize I’m not the lucky one, I’m just the stupid one who didn’t see it.”
“You are not stupid!” Kylie dropped back down on the bed. “You trusted them. Trusting people you love doesn’t make you stupid. I know, because I trusted my parents all those years, and they were hiding stuff, too.”
Miranda closed her eyes, hoping to hide the tears she felt forming. “I trusted Perry, too.”
Kylie put her hand on Miranda’s shoulder. Warmth and peace flowed from her touch. “Love makes us vulnerable,” Kylie said. “But to live without it makes us miserable.”
“I’m miserable now,” Miranda said.
“I know, but it will pass. I promise.”
Miranda just lay there with her eyes closed, her arms wrapped so tightly around a pillow that even it longed to breathe. As a few more tears slipped from her closed eyes, she craved the numbness of sleep.
* * *
Miranda found some reprieve with slumber, but only for a bit when something caused a big shift in her mattress. Shooting up, thoughts of rogue vampires chasing away the calm of sleep, she saw a figure sitting on the end of her bed and knew she was only partially right. Vampire, yes. Rogue, no.
“Hey,” Della said and Miranda spotted a look of defeat in her eyes.
“You’re back,” Kylie said, sounding sleepy, and leaning up on her elbow.
“Did you find your uncle?” Miranda asked.
“No,” Della said, a frown pulling her lips. “It appears he had come and gone by the time I arrived. But you want to know something crazy? I could swear I got a weak scent of Chase when I got close to this building.”
“You think he was here?” Kylie asked.
“No, I’m sure it’s just someone with similar DNA.”
“Sorry,” Miranda and Kylie said at the same time.
“It’s okay,” Della said without a lot of confidence. “I’m not giving up. I can’t. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” Della tilted her head to the side and studied Miranda. “You look upset. Is everything okay?”
Knowing that lying to a vampire was useless, Miranda shook her head and tears formed in her eyes. “No, it’s not okay. My daddy has another family. Tabitha is my half-sister.”
“No shit!” Della said. “Wait, Tabitha, is she the horse-crap bitch?” Della asked.
Miranda nodded. “My whole life is a lie.”
“Wow, that does suck.” Della made an odd face and glanced at Kylie and then back to Miranda. “Yikes … uh … this might not be a good time, but I found something else while I was away.”
“What?” Miranda asked, hoping she sounded more interested than she felt. Down deep, all she wanted was to go back to sleep.
Della’s gaze shifted back to Miranda. “A huge pterodactyl with bright blue eyes.”
&
nbsp; Miranda’s breath caught. “You … you saw Perry.”
Della nodded. “Yup.”
Tears prickled Miranda’s eyes. “Did he even ask about me? Wait!” She threw up her hands as if to block any words. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “To me, he doesn’t exist anymore. He’s a nonissue. Not important. Doesn’t matter.”
“Actually … it does matter. You see, we have a little problem.” Della frowned. “And it’s not exactly little. It’s about six feet tall and weighs in at—”
“What?” Miranda asked. “I’m too tired to handle riddles. Just tell me.”
“All righty … it’s Perry … he kind of followed me here.”
“Kind of?” Miranda asked.
“Okay, he followed me.”
“He’s here?” Miranda jumped up and stood on the bed. “Here? Now?”
“Yup.” Della glanced up at Miranda, who was bouncing up and down on the mattress in excitement. “In the living room. He wants to see you. He’s been away a few days and didn’t know you were here. Do you want me to chase him off? I’ll probably have to hurt him because he was pretty adamant about seeing you. But for you, I’ll do it.”
“No.” Her mind spun. “I need clothes.” She jumped off the bed and yanked open her suitcase, which was on top of the dresser. She tossed clothes over her shoulder, looking for her perfect blouse and jeans. The ones she knew Perry liked. The ones she packed especially to wear when she saw him.
Her heart thumped with excitement. Her skin felt supersensitive.
After almost four weeks, she was finally going to see him.
As crazy as it seemed, she recalled the game of killing the blue-eyed shape-shifter. Then she remembered that in the end, that shape-shifter lived but had killed her. Stabbed her, right in the heart.
Like it or not, she knew Perry still had that power to hurt her.
Chapter Twelve
As Miranda stepped out of the bedroom, she heard voices. Even with her heart on the chopping block, her palms itched and the air tasted sweeter as she took the last steps to the doorway.
Perry was here. He wanted to see her.