Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(52)

Hence one of the reasons Miranda hated competitions. Winning felt good, watching others not win always stung a little.

“Miranda Kane.”

Hearing her name fill the silent auditorium had her earlier confidence leaking from her pores. She stepped forward. Taking a deep breath that filled her chest to the brim, she held out her arm and began … “Cat, oh feline friend of mine, find your true colors of black and white, turn to creature that lurks at night—one that no one dares to anger thee, or skunked they will be.” One twitch of the pinky and the thought ran amuck in her head. It’s in the bag. In the bag.

The cloud of magic surrounded the black cat. Then faded. Miranda’s breath hitched when she saw what she’d done. Oh, shit!





Chapter Four


There, on the table, sat a burlap bag. In it, something wiggled and rolled. Soft growling noises came from the cloth sack.

Voices of confusion arose. Stepping forward, praying her only screwup had been invoking the bag, Miranda loosened the string. The room fell quiet. Not even the air stirred. A black pointed nose appeared, and then the beautiful black-and-white skunk emerged in all his glory. It pranced the length of the table and then back. Then turning away from the judges, it raised its tail.

Soft laughter pushed away the silence.

“Change it back. Now!” one of the council insisted.

Reciting the reverse spell, the skunk returned to feline form. Miranda waited to hear if her bag would cost her any points. With her ten-point deduction for not tattling, she really needed to ace this one.

The unhappy-looking judges whispered amongst themselves.

Even the air Miranda breathed quivered with nervousness.

Finally, the head priestess leaned forward and locked gazes with Miranda. “You accomplished your task, and while the bag was extra, we vote not to deduct points.”

Miranda held her exhilaration in check, but heard a loud victory whistle coming from the audience. Her gaze cut to the crowd and she saw Della standing up, one fist pumped in the air, and a huge best-friend smile on her face. Kylie sat beside her, tugging at her shirttail, as if trying to let her know that cheering wasn’t common practice at Wicca competitions.

“Please, no outbursts,” said the ol’ biddy judge, staring into the audience.

Silence filled the room. Miranda, not at all upset at Della, bit her lip to stop from smiling. But Della had just earned herself a big hug. Sure, the vamp claimed she didn’t like hugs, but Miranda knew better.

“Tabitha Evans,” a judge announced, moving the competition along.

The name of her nemesis brought Miranda back to the present.

Tabitha shot Miranda a scowl as she moved forward. Right then, it occurred to Miranda what Tabitha might have meant by “Stop it.” Did she think Miranda was creating the mood spell? If so, that meant that Tabitha hadn’t set it. Was real shit, not just horse crap, about to hit the fan?

No, Miranda seriously doubted it.

On the wave of that thought came another trickle of danger and impending doom. Cutting her eyes around at the other girls, she tried to see if any of them wore a mask of guilt. Was one of the other competitors doing this? But if this was a true mood spell, why wasn’t everyone reacting?

Sure, mood spells could be cast on individuals, but it took a pretty strong spell to target it like that. And if targeted, then why her and Tabitha? And if it wasn’t a mood spell, but actually Miranda’s gift of forewarning, then why was Tabitha reading it as well?

Miranda’s ability of forecasting trouble, inherited from her father’s family, wasn’t that common. Ha, wouldn’t it totally suck to find out that Tabitha was some distant cousin?

Actually, more sucky, would be if the foreboding were real. Her gaze shifted to the audience and to Della and Kylie. If trouble plopped its butt down on her, at least she’d have help. Man, she’d lucked out getting those two best friends.

Tabitha began to speak. Her words rang loud and with confidence. “Feline of black, feline are you, change now to resemble Pepé Le Pew.”

Miranda frowned. She didn’t have a copyright on skunk transformation, but why her archenemy cared to mimic Miranda’s spell was disconcerting.

The condensation of the spell descended from the ceiling. It swirled around the feline, stopped, and then started again. When it evaporated, a skunk … well, a skunk with tall, skinny feline legs, centered the table.

Tabitha’s sigh of discontent came just before the murmurs of the audience.

The judges leaned toward each other to compare notes. When they settled back in their seats, the spokeswoman stood and addressed Tabitha. “You will only receive seventy percent of your points. Let this be a lesson to you to use your own spell and not borrow the creativeness of others.”

Miranda should have been happy about the girl’s comeuppance, but nope. Screwing up in front of your peers and an audience was bad enough. One didn’t need to be chastised as well.

Ten minutes later, the second round of competition was over. Only the top ten finalists would move forward. The judges read out their tallies. Miranda’s stomach knotted when she heard she fell into fifth place and the four ahead of her held perfect scores.

Normally, she’d have been thrilled, but it meant Miranda would have to get 100 percent on her next spell and everyone else would have to be docked points, to take first place. For once she was channeling her mother, and not accepting anything but a complete win.