Under a Spell (27 page)

“Uh, she’s the police. I’m the fireman. And this case is quite arsonistic, if you will. Very dangerous. Very secret. Can’t divulge too much. Probably said too much already. You’ve been a big help.”

Will and I backed out of the store with Meadow’s huge eyes following us.

“Arsonistic, Will?” I said as we slid into my car.

“Credit me one for thinking on my feet. We got what we were looking for, didn’t we?”

I looked back at the shop as we drove away. “Kind of. Fallon comes to the magic shop with a grandfather.”

“Maybe that’s the legacy we’re looking for?”

“But why would she buy the book of protection spells? I mean, if she’s partnering with, say, her grandfather—”

“That’s one horrible family tree now, isn’t it?”

“Why would she feel the need for protection?”

Will swung his head. “Don’t know. Also, is the geezer really her grandfather or just a crazy old bloke she hooked up with? Some birds kind of like that May-December thing you know.”

“Will, ew.”

“Oh, and it’s much less disgusting for you to think the girl is kidnapping her friends and delivering them to gramps for a little carving party?”

“The whole thing is just so messed up.”

“Okay, so what now? We go back to Fallon’s house, bust down her door, and demand she produce her grandfather? And by the way, why didn’t we ask the garden bird about Miranda? She had one of those spell books, as well.”

“Meadow. And we didn’t need to ask about Miranda because we know that she purchased the spell book and we know she purchased it there.”

Will sunk back in his seat. “Right. You told me she said it was a lapse in judgment as she was going for a love spell book.”

I nodded. “Right.”

“Did you notice where Chaparral kept the love spell books?”

“Meadow. And no, I just assumed they were right next to the other books.”

“They weren’t. The lovey books were all the way in the back. Big pink heart over the rack. Awful thing, really.”

“So? What are you saying?”

Will shrugged. “Just saying that it seems a little odd that your girl could miss a giant pink heart.”

I pulled the car to a stop at a red light and turned to face Will. “There is no indication—zero—that Miranda has anything to do with this. She has no connection to the girls other than knowing them through school.”

“And Fallon’s big connection is that she was friends with the girls and you think she’s a giant bitch. Seems a little weak to build a murder case on, love.”

“Are you defending her?”

“No, I’m standing up for parliamentary procedure. Innocent until proven guilty and all that.”

“We don’t have parliament,” I growled. “And there’s plenty more to indict Fallon. She works in the office and has access to all the girls’ personal information and class schedules. She’s a bully. Bullies are sadists. And she came in to the store multiple times with her grandfather.”

“She went out on an outing with her grandpa.”

“That’s a pretty creepily specific outing, Will. I—well, I went to magic shops with my Gram all the time, but my grandma—”

“I know, I know, love,” Will said, holding his palm toward me. “Your grandmother played mah-jongg with a pixie.”

I pressed the gas pedal down. “We’ll investigate both girls just to cover all our bases, but I’m pretty sure Fallon’s our perp. Or, one-half of our perp team. I just don’t get a good feeling about her.”

Chapter Fifteen

I turned the corner toward our apartment building and slid into a parking spot just as a carpet-covered van vacated it.

Will looked at me and smiled as I pushed the car into park. “Rock star parking. Maybe things are looking up for us.”

I had my hand on the door when a bolt of heat shot through me. “I’m not so sure. Look.”

Will followed my gaze to the girl sitting on the stoop in front of our building. She had her knees pressed up against her chest, her hands buried in the enormous sleeves of a charcoal-grey hoodie. Her head was down, and a very recognizable, fuzzy shock of hair slid out from under her beanie.

“Is that Miranda?”

I pushed open the car door. “Miranda?”

Her head rose slowly, the majority of her face hidden in the shadows. “Ms. Lawson? Mr. Sherman?”

“Yeah.” I rushed toward her. “What are you doing here?”

I could see from the slice of light over her beanie and hair that she was trembling.

“I probably shouldn’t have come here,” she said finally. “But I didn’t know where else to go.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Will slid an arm through Miranda’s and helped her up. It was then that I could see her face clearly. My chest tightened painfully and the familiar prick of tears itched behind my eyes. “My God, Miranda, what happened to you?”

A purple-red bruise peeked out from under her beanie and marred the left side of her forehead. Puffed red scratches shot dangerously close to her swollen eye. Her cheeks were flushed red and slick with dried tears. There were neat slices at the edges of her lips, and dried blood was caked all over. Though Miranda did her best to shrink back into her sweatshirt and shrink back into the cover of night, I could still see purpling fingers of puckered skin under her chin and circling her throat.

“Can you walk? Do we need to get you an ambulance?” I asked.

Miranda shook her head, her hair swinging. “No, thanks,” she said, her voice a near-whisper.

“Let’s get her inside,” Will said before Miranda had a chance to elaborate.

Nina snatched open the door before I had a chance to sink my key into the lock. “Lorraine?” she asked, before her eyes set on Miranda.

“Nina,” I said, steering Miranda and Will around her, “this is Miranda, a student from my class.”

“Here, Miranda.” I led her to the couch and she sat gingerly, wincing. “Would you mind giving us just a second?”

Her dark eyes went from me to Will and finally to Nina before she nodded silently. I pushed Nina toward my room and Will shut the door behind us.

“What happened to her?” Nina wanted to know.

I chewed my bottom lip. “We just found her downstairs like that.”

“We do plan on asking, right?” Will asked.

“Of course. It’s just—” I looked at Nina, who sucked in a breath and patted the air.

“I know, I know. I’m just your normal flesh-and-blood roommate who is not salivating in the least at the overwhelming scent of dried blood.”

“Can you let Vlad know about Miranda before he gets back?” I said.

Nina shrugged. “He never left.” She cocked her head, listening. “And I’m pretty sure he’s already discovered your student.”

“Christ.” I pushed out my door and was momentarily taken aback by Miranda sitting primly on my couch. It was like my two worlds had crashed together.

“Sorry, Miranda. Can I get you anything?”

“You probably could have offered her a glass of water before you disappeared on her,” Vlad said as he appeared from the kitchen, tall, filled glass in his hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him, before downing the whole thing.

I sat across from Miranda. “Can you tell us what—or who—did this to you?”

She turned to me and tears began to pour over her lower lashes. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know who it was.”

“She said she—”

I held up a hand. “Vlad, it’s okay. I’d like to hear it from Miranda.”

I’d expected him to growl or grumble something inappropriate before settling back behind his laptop to explode human arteries, but he sat next to Miranda—close to her—body-brushing close.

My heart thumped. He
liked
her.

Before I could swoon for teenage love and recoil at the vampire-breather consequences, Will quickly sat next to me and addressed Miranda. “I’ve got some paramedic training. What do you say you let me take a look and maybe clean up those injuries?”

Miranda looked around blankly, her eyes wide and heartbreakingly innocent. She pulled herself into her sweatshirt again. “It probably looks worse than it really is.”

I looked at Nina, who was perched on the chair-and-a-half. Even across the room I could see her nostrils twitch. She steeled me with a glance letting me know that the blood she was smelling was not fresh—or flowing—enough to be dangerous.

“Can you tell us what happened, Miranda?” I asked.

Miranda clasped her hands in her lap and stared at them for a bit before she cleared her throat. “I was leaving the school.”

I glanced up at the clock. “Wait. You were just leaving campus now?”

She shook her head. “No. No, I was trying to get on the three o’clock bus. I realized I left my book back in your classroom so I went back for it. But I still had enough time to make it back to the bus stop. Or I should have. Anyway, I went back to the main door. Janitor Bud let me in and I got my book. It’s
Wuthering Heights
—the one you saw me reading in the cafeteria. But it was weird—the door to your classroom snapped shut while I was in there. Like there was a breeze or something, but there wasn’t. I mean, all the windows were closed. And then . . .” Miranda shook her head and the tears started to fall again. She let them go and I could see Vlad watching as they rolled over Miranda’s nose and fell into her lap.

“It’s okay, Miranda.” I squeezed her hand.

“It’s going to sound crazy. You’re all going to think I’m crazy.”

Will and I exchanged a glance. “You have a long way to go before we would even consider that thought.”

“A long way,” Will added. “Your Ms. L there got locked in the toilet, and I didn’t think any less of her.”

I tried hard not to roll my eyes. “Just tell us what happened.”

“So the door shut, and I tried to open it. But it was like it was locked. I tried to fiddle with the lock, but that didn’t help. And then—all of a sudden—it was dark. Like, pitch black. I couldn’t see anything. Then there was a wind—a howling wind. Everything went floating around me and things were hitting me. It felt like fists—like people were there. Pulling my hair and”—she heaved, then pressed a hand over her bottom lip—“and punching me. There was like, lightning or something cracking and every once in a while that would make it light. There was no one there, Ms. L—no one but me, but I could feel people. And something was written on the board—it looked like, it looked like—”

“Get out?” I offered.

Miranda nodded, her eyes the size of teacups. “How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

“Then what happened?” Vlad asked her.

“Well, there was a giant crack. I was yanking on the door and as soon as I heard that, everything stopped. The room was normal again, there was nothing on the board, no wind. The door opened right up and I ran. I ran all the way out of the school and to the bus stop. I didn’t even know there was—” Miranda gingerly touched her fingertips to her puffed eye. “I didn’t even know there was anything on my face until the bus driver asked what happened.”

“What made you come here?” Will asked.

Vlad shot him a scathing look. “She was traumatized.”

“I’m just asking.”

“Yeah, what—I mean, I’m glad that you did—but why did you decide to come here?”

Miranda’s lower lip trembled and she looked into her lap again. “My mom works nights. I didn’t want to go home.” She looked up at me, her eyes desperate and imploring. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Not to a mate’s or something?” Will asked.

Vlad gritted his teeth. “She said she didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Miranda started to sniff again—another round of heavy tears.

“Look what you did!” Vlad snapped.

I nudged him away and slung an arm around Miranda, pulling her toward me. “You did the right thing coming here, Miranda. Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe now.”

Will steadied his gaze and I avoided it.

“There’s something else, Ms. L,” Miranda whispered into my hair.

“What is it, honey?”

Miranda pulled back and looked at Will and Vlad, then back at me. “We can go to my room,” I said, taking her hand.

I closed the door behind us, and Miranda started when ChaCha sprang from the covers and growled.

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” I said, snatching her up. “She’s my half-pint attack dog.”

The edges of Miranda’s lips quirked up into the beginning of a smile. “She’s cute.”

“You can pet her,” I offered, swinging ChaCha within arm’s reach. Miranda reached out tentatively, but ChaCha growled again, showing off her Tic Tac–sized bottom teeth.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry about her; she’s very protective of my bed.” I set ChaCha down and the terrifying thing buried her way into my covers, her little butt and stub tail disappearing last.

“Animals always seem to hate me,” Miranda said wistfully. “Even my gerbil ran away.”

We sat in silence for an uncomfortable beat until Miranda sucked in a breath. “I didn’t want to tell them.” She jutted her head toward the living room. “I didn’t want to show them.”

“What?”

She swallowed slowly and I could see her hands tremble as she pulled up her hoodie—slowly, painfully. There were fresh scratches on her hands, the deepest ones across her knuckles where blood had pooled and dried. Miranda dropped her sweatshirt on my floor, then slowly began to unbutton the blouse underneath.

Suddenly, there was no air. Everything pressed against me and the beating of my heart threatened to shatter me, to break me right open.

“Oh, Miranda.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes from the puckered flesh on her abdomen. The skin at the edges of the fresh cuts was turning up, the edges purple and fragile like the torn edges of paper. Everything swirled into a watery mess, and I stepped back, feeling my way to sit back on the bed as bile burned up the back of my throat and my own blood pulsed through my ears.

Miranda’s abdomen pulsed when she breathed, the freshly carved words,
you’re next
, a ghastly, skin-deep warning that chilled me to my core.

I cleaned Miranda’s wounds and then set her up in a pair of my old sweats. She was now huddled with Vlad behind his laptop, his hand over hers as her brand-new
BloodLust
avatar sunk its fangs into its first human flesh.