Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(62)

They had arrived in Paris that morning. Her mom wasn’t supposed to arrive for two more days. Miranda was jetlagged and emotionally exhausted. Out of precaution, Burnett had taken them to an apartment, not the designated hotel where all the contestants were to stay. As silly as it sounded, Miranda has been relieved that the apartment building didn’t have gargoyles. She hated gargoyles and just walking over here, she’d shuddered at the sight of several glaring down at her from the neighboring buildings’ eaves.

They had crashed for about six hours. But upon waking up, Miranda had begged Burnett to let them go out.

In his normal overly protective fashion, Burnett refused. Miranda had been about to protest, but Della beat her to the punch. She insisted they hadn’t come all the way to Paris to stare at an apartment’s white walls. The vamp had complained since they’d landed in France that Burnett wasn’t letting her take off to DeVille to work on her own investigation. Burnett relented with one condition: they’d take a tagalong. Hence, Shawn, following them like a lost puppy. She wished he’d stop staring at her. The temptation to zap blinders on him tickled her pinky.

Miranda wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do. Oh, hell, she did know. She wanted to go see Perry, but she just wasn’t sure it was the right thing.

She’d bit her tongue a hundred times to stop herself from asking Burnett if Perry knew she was coming. But if he knew, it would break her heart because he hadn’t come to see her yet. Did he not miss her at all? Did he not care anymore? Were all the things he’d told her these last six months lies? How could he just stop caring?

The damp cold seemed to sneak beneath Miranda’s pale green jacket and her heart ached a little more. Reaching up, she touched her spoon-pendant necklace then pulled the coat around her a little tighter.

“Oh!” Della seethed. “I just stepped in dog crap. Isn’t there like a poop police?”

“Can’t you just enjoy Paris?” Miranda snapped.

“Look who’s talking, you can’t look at any of the buildings because the gargoyles scare you.”

“So I’m afraid of gargoyles. Did you know some of them are actually demons?” Miranda snapped back with sass and regretted confiding her fear with them.

Looking away, she went back to staring up at one of Paris’s biggest attractions. After several long moments, she felt Della’s and Kylie’s gazes on her as if waiting for her to say something. Deciding to at least try to be compliant for once, she offered, “It’s a big tower.”

“Why the hell are we here?” Della asked. “We all know what you want to do.”

Miranda knew exactly what Della meant, but it pissed her off that Della herself didn’t want the same thing. Perry hadn’t come alone to Paris. With him was Steve, Della’s sort-of ex.

How could Della not be aching to see Steve? Had Della given up on Steve the way Perry had given up on her?

“Yeah,” Miranda smarted back. “Let’s go to the Louvre. Seeing some chubby-cheeked lady with a fake smile is more exciting.”

“Get your head out of your ass,” Della snapped. “If you want to find Perry just say so and let’s get it over with.”

Miranda shot the vamp a cold glare. “I don’t know if I want to see him.”

“Please,” Della said. “I’d bet my best bra that’s the reason you won. Just to come here to see him.”

“What?” Miranda asked. “You want me to say I have to see Perry so you can see Steve? Why don’t you just grow some fangs and admit you want to see him?”

Della’s eyes grew bright with anger—probably the fangs slur pissed her off—but the vamp was always throwing witch insults at Miranda. Or maybe it wasn’t the vamp criticism, but her friend was as miserable about Steve as Miranda was about Perry. Miranda almost felt guilty.

“If I wanted to see Steve, I would be there now! I’m not the coward,” Della snapped and her tone pushed Miranda’s guilt back. “You pinky-twitching little twit.”

The last comment validated Miranda’s anger and she rolled her eyes, waiting for Kylie to tell Della to cool it. Kylie was the mediator, the peacekeeper. When she didn’t do her job, Miranda turned her eyes on blondie. “Aren’t you going to tell her to behave?”

Kylie made a funny face. “Nah, I thought I’d let you two just kill each other and get it over with. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Can I? Can I kill her?” Della smarted off again. “Please. I know! What if I feed her to the gargoyles?”

“Not funny!” Miranda frowned and looked away from her friends. A part of her knew she was being a bitch, but damn it, she was hurting too much to be anything else. Right then, she felt it. The ominous feeling she’d gotten when she’d been on stage.

“It’s back,” she said and looked around.

“What?” Della asked.

“Trouble. Trouble’s back.”

“Define trouble,” Della said.

“The kind that brings fireballs.” Miranda looked around, left and right, and there, behind a group of Asian tourists, she spotted a mane of red hair. Tabitha stood fifty feet away staring up at the Eiffel Tower. Did that mean she was conjuring it?

“We’ve got company.” Della lifted her nose in the air.