Spellbinder (12 page)

Miranda closed her eyes. Thinking of her mom as a slut, the other woman, was only slightly better than thinking of her as a murderer. Didn’t her mom have more pride than that?

“Do you not want to talk about it?” Kylie asked.

Miranda, knowing she was talking to her, pushed her head deeper into the pillow. “About what?”

“Please!” Della snapped. “You are so cram-packed with crap it’s oozing out your ears. And I’m so close to you, it’s grossing me out. Just spill it, witch.”

Emotion tightened Miranda’s throat and she turned her head slightly to stare through the dark room at the crude vamp. “Spill what?”

“Two things,” Della said. “Why did you lie to Burnett? And what happened with you and Mr. Perry?”

Miranda’s breath caught. “Did it come off as a lie?”

Kylie shifted again and the light came on. “Not exactly.”

“We just know you,” Della offered. “When you’re trying to cover up something, you always shuffle your feet like a cat trying to cover up a deposit in his litter box.” She paused. “So what’s up?”

“Why is it that you think I’m supposed to share everything with you and you never tell us anything?”

“It’s too late to argue,” Kylie said. “If you don’t want to talk, we’re just gonna sleep.”

When no one spoke up, the light went off. The mattress shifted as Kylie got comfortable again.

“What have I not told you?” Della hissed into the darkness and shifted onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow.

“Steve,” Miranda said. “Or are you gonna pretend like you didn’t see him?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m pretending, so leave it alone.”

“Do you still love Chase?” Miranda asked.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel anything for him. He lied. Over and over again.”

“But…?” Miranda asked as Kylie sat up and rested against the bed’s headboard again. This time, however, she didn’t turn on the light.

“It’s the bond thing,” Della said. “It must be. I don’t feel … right. Like part of me is missing.”

“Love feels a little like that,” Kylie said. “I’ll bet I’ve called Lucas six times since we’ve been here.”

“Lucas hasn’t deceived you,” Della said, hurt sounding in her voice.

“Yeah, he did. He was going to get engaged behind my back. So he sort of did deceive me,” Kylie said. “But you forgive because you love them.”

“Maybe she doesn’t love Chase, but she loves Steve,” Miranda said and looked at Della. “Could that be a possibility?”

“I don’t know.” Della ran her hands through her hair. “At this point, I’m not sure I want to love anyone. I hate feeling my happiness depends on someone else.” She went to the window and pulled back the curtain and stared out into the night.

“I know the feeling,” Miranda said with a sigh.

Della turned around and looked at her. “So you and Perry didn’t jump back on the merry-go-round of love?”

“He kissed me,” Miranda said.

“And what kind of kiss was it?” Della asked.

“Good. And bad. I’m still so mad. It’s like I can’t turn the mad off. I know I love him, but I still want to hurt him for what he did to me.”

“Maybe you should. Give him an ass kicking.”

“No,” Kylie said. “Your anger will go away. It just fades.”

“Maybe it doesn’t happen like that with everyone,” Della said. “You are just the sweet, forgiving type.”

“I’m not that sweet,” Kylie said. “I hate it when you act like I’m a goody-two-shoes.”

Miranda and Della looked at each other and then back at the chameleon. “When the shoe fits,” Miranda said and offered Kylie a sympathetic smile. “But we wouldn’t change you if we could.”

“Too sweet.” Della pointed to Kylie, then moved her finger to Miranda. “Too flighty.” And then pointed at herself. “Too pissy. We’re quite a team.” Della giggled and dropped back on the bed. “I feel as if we should be sitting at our kitchen table with Diet Cokes.”

“That’s a good idea.” Miranda zapped them three Cokes. They all leaned back on the bed’s headboard and the sound of the three cans being popped open sounded in the dark room.

“So what’s up with your mom?” Kylie asked Miranda.

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me she was here. She sorta let me believe she wasn’t. And there has to be a reason.”

“What reason?” Della asked.

“I don’t know. I just sugarcoated my answer to Burnett because I didn’t want him to think she had anything to do with the murders.”

Della shook her head and sipped from her can. “Your mom’s a bitch, but I don’t think she’d kill anyone any more than I think my dad would.” Della downed a big sip of soda.

“Thank you,” Miranda said. “Except for the bitch part.” She frowned. “It probably has to do with Tabitha and her mom. Maybe they met somewhere to hash it out.”

“That would be fun to watch,” Della said.

Miranda rolled her eyes at the vamp.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Kylie said and shot Della a warning look. Then her gaze went back to Miranda. “Why don’t you try to call her?”

“I think I need to see her in person.” Miranda let her gaze shift to the window. “Is that the sun rising?” she asked. “Tell me it’s not morning yet.”

“It’s not morning yet,” Della said. “See, I like you enough to lie to you.”

Miranda rolled her eyes.

“What time do you have to be at practice?” Kylie asked.

“Noon.” She moaned and leaned back on the headboard, exhausted.

“Then why don’t we try to sleep? You’re gonna need it. You have to win and become a high priestess.”

“Yeah,” she said and handed Kylie her Coke to put on the bedside table. Then she wiggled her butt until she slid down on the mattress.

“Don’t you want to win?” Kylie asked. Both her friends sat up, looking down at her.

“I didn’t think I did, but now … Yes, I want to win.” She admitted something, not only to them, but to herself. “I want to win so bad I can taste it. I never wanted to say it, because I didn’t think it was possible. But now…”

“What?” Della asked.

“The Perry thing and now this whole Tabitha thing, both of them hurt, and it’s stealing away my joy.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think,” Kylie said. “Tabitha could be wrong about things. You won’t know until you talk with your parents.”

“Yeah,” Miranda said, but in her heart she knew it was true. She just didn’t know how she was ever going to forgive her parents for all the lies.

She closed her eyes and then opened them and glanced from Kylie to Della. “I love you. You two are like sisters I never … Damn!” She hit her fists on the mattress.

“What?” Kylie asked.

“Tabitha’s my sister. My sister is sleeping in the next room over.”

Della stared at her and her brows tightened. “You … you knew that already.” Della glanced at Kylie. “Is she losing it?”

“No, I’m not losing it,” Miranda snapped in a sleepy voice. “It just hadn’t sunk in all the way. I mean, all my life I begged my mom and dad to make me a sister. Sometimes I felt all alone and I didn’t even have to be alone, because I already had a sister.” Miranda paused. “And she hates me.”

“If it makes you feel better, sometimes my sister hates me.” Della butt-scooted farther down on the mattress. Her shoulder met Miranda’s.

“I guess.” Miranda let her eyes close and waited for sleep. The last thought whispering across her worried mind was the kiss. The soft and painful kiss she’d gotten from Perry. And then another kiss entered her brain, the kiss she’d gotten years ago at a masquerade party.

“I’m so messed up, guys.”

*   *   *

Voices. Miranda heard them and pulled the pillow over her head. Sunshine still snuck in the tiny slits of her closed eyes. Her mind raced to orient her. She wasn’t at her cabin.

She remembered.

Paris.

Perry.

Rogue vampires.

Lying parents.

A sister.

A practice competition.

Ugh. She buried her head deeper into the pillow.

She heard the bedroom door swish open.

“Miranda?”

She expected to hear Kylie or Della urging her to wake up. The last person’s voice she expected to hear was …

She tossed the pillow off her head and sat up. Her gaze met his blue eyes, and emotion tightened her gut. She hadn’t been ready to speak to him on the phone last night, she certainly didn’t feel up to a face-to-face with him.

But it looked as if she didn’t have a choice.

“Daddy?”

Chapter Fourteen

Miranda’s chest filled with pain. She had to swallow, twice, to keep the tears from climbing up her throat.

“What … are you doing here?” She looked up at him, seeing him differently for the first time. Seeing him as someone else’s dad. It hit then. Tabitha had gotten more from her father than she had. Her half-sister inherited his red hair. And his blue eyes. While Miranda was stuck with hazel eyes and blond hair with only red highlights.

“I thought you didn’t do competitions?” The words came out with sarcasm and a ton of hurt. He was her daddy. She didn’t want to share him, but she had been … sharing him. She just hadn’t known it.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. He always did that when he was nervous. But about what? Then she quickly became aware of his gaze shifting to her and then back to the wall.

He knew.

He knew she knew.

Had Tabitha told him?

“I know this is hard.” His words were tight, and filled with what sounded like regret. A little too late for that, wasn’t it?

She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. What kind of explanation could he offer? She couldn’t think of one that made this acceptable. And yet he was here to try. Didn’t that mean something?

It might, but emotionally right now she couldn’t feel any reprieve. Lies. Everything she’d thought about her family had been a lie.

“You mother called me,” he said. “Then Tabitha called.”

That achiness in her chest exploded and flowed into all her limbs. Tears filled her eyes.

“So it’s all true?” she asked.

His hand swiped down his face, almost as if buying a few seconds to think. For a few minutes, he didn’t have to look at her.

Did he consider her a mistake?

“I don’t know what all you know, but…” He paused and seemed to notice the tears streaming down her face. “Don’t cry. It kills me to see you cry.”

“Is it true?” she demanded and when he didn’t immediately answer, she spelled out what she meant. “Is Tabitha my sister?”

“Yes.” He looked back at the wall.

She blinked and more hot tears rolled down her cheek. “Are you married to her mom, and not to my mom?”

He glanced back at her. His gaze, his posture, everything about him looked heavy as if the guilt weighed him down. But she wouldn’t let herself feel sorry for him.

“Yes,” he said. “But … it’s not like it sounds.”

She ignored his remark and tossed out another question. “Did my mom know? Did she know you were married when you met her?”

She didn’t know why she needed that answer, but she did. Perhaps, she needed to know how much to blame her mom for this. If she had known, then …

“Miranda, I know this sounds terrible, but—”

“Did you lie to my mom?” She spit the question out again.

He inhaled. “Yes, in the beginning I lied to her. But it’s not like you think.”

“What’s not like I think, Daddy? I don’t even know your real name. How could you do this to me? To us? Mom and me?”

He hung his head and didn’t move. Finally, he looked up. “Divorce was almost impossible to get in Ireland, Miranda. Mary Esther and I had separated. I was considering fighting to get the divorce, but … Her grandfather turned my uncle against me. My uncle was in charge of my trust fund.”

He shuffled his feet. “Back then, I was nothing more than a spoiled rich kid. I’d lived off my family’s money. If I had pursued a divorce, all of my inheritance would have been lost to me. In the beginning I was willing to sacrifice it, but then I learned Mary Ester was pregnant. While I might have been spoiled, I did not want to turn my back on my child. While I loved your mother with all my heart, I was actually planning on walking away from her, because I felt she deserved better. The day I was going to break up with her, your mother announced her own news. She was pregnant with you. Then I was nothing more than a stupid kid, with two children to support. I couldn’t reject what was my only source of income, which was my trust fund. I told your mom the truth. It took a while, but she forgave me for lying and accepted what I could offer.”

“So you just lived with both wives? How gross and sick is that? I seriously think I’m going to throw up.”

Shock widened his eyes. “I do not live with Mary Esther as her husband. Yes, I have a place next door to her. For the most part, I support her, and Tabitha. I am as big a part of Tabitha’s life as I am yours. And I know your mom hates that, but I can no more turn my back on Tabitha than I could you. Mary Esther was a mistake, but Tabitha is still my child.”

And what am I?
The question sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t ask it.
A bastard child?

“I love your mother, Miranda. I know this life has not been easy for her, and I regret that. While there is no legal paper calling her my wife, she is the love of my life. Together we made you. We are a family. I love you. We love you.”

“Then why the lies? Why not tell me? Why not give me your real name?”

“In the beginning it was to protect my trust fund, if my uncle had found out I wasn’t … living as Mary Esther’s husband, he would have happily cut me off. Then when he died four years ago, I actually wanted to come clean, to have you two girls meet and get to know each other. But your mother and Mary Esther had too many grudges. It became easier to live the lie than to come clean. I never meant to hurt you.”

Miranda swiped the tears from her face. “Well, you failed. Failed miserably. This, the lies, the secrets, it hurts.”

“I can see that, and don’t for one minute think it isn’t killing me. I want to fix it. That’s what I’m here to do. You both are such neat people. I’m so proud of both of you. This afternoon after the practice, we are all getting together. I know it’s hard and I regret not doing it earlier, but I want you and Tabitha to get along, to love each other.”