Midnight Hour (Shadow Falls: After Dark #4)(4)

Not that she was ashamed of that. Face it, she could’ve found a volunteer to help change her status. But call her old-fashioned, she believed

sex should be special, and with someone special.

Shawn was special.

She cared about him. He was … wonderful, kind, and patient. He had the looks that had girls staring—kisses as sweet as cotton candy. He had

the attributes that not only made him hot boyfriend material, but life-mate material.

But it wasn’t what he was or had that made her question her decision. It was what he wasn’t and didn’t have.

He didn’t have that sneak-up-on-you effect that made her stop paying attention in class just to write his name over and over again. His smile,

while sweet as soft rain, didn’t have that melt-me quality that made her feel shaky, silly, and slightly dizzy. His presence, as fulfilling as

it was when he was there, wasn’t making her feel devastatingly empty when he wasn’t. While his qualities were perfect life-mate material, her

heart wasn’t screaming soul mate.

He wasn’t making her feel what a certain shape-shifter had made her feel not so long ago.

Was it because it was new? Did her feelings for Shawn just need time to grow? Was it because she was older and adult love felt less consuming?

Or was she just scared to let herself care that deeply again?

She had a thousand reasons why this relationship building with Shawn would feel different from what she’d had with Perry—even more reasons to

put her trust in Shawn. And that was what she had to remember.

Right?

The witch waved the smoky fumes up into her face and inhaled, then she put her hand over the bowl and smothered the flames.

“Hand me your palm.” The witch’s gnarled hand reached for Miranda’s wrist.

“Why?” Miranda’s one-word question hung in the air.

“Just do it,” Tabitha said. “It won’t hurt, I’ve had it done numerous times. This is how I knew Brady was cheating on me.”

Shawn wasn’t cheating on her. Miranda knew that with all her heart. He was the most loyal guy she’d ever met.

The witch looked up at Tabitha and frowned. “And if you’d come to me before you got with him, I would have warned you of him and the death of

that relationship before it ever started. The guy was a weasel.”

“I wanted to trust my heart,” Tabitha said.

Her sister’s words gave Miranda’s own reservations more merit. Wasn’t that what Miranda wanted? She didn’t need an old witch’s answer to

confuse her. Her heart was confused enough.

“Never trust that fickle organ,” the witch said. “It beats merely to lead you wrong, just so you feel it break and know it’s there.” The

witch looked back at Miranda. “Now, give me your hand!”

Feeling optionless, Miranda did as ordered. The witch placed Miranda’s hand on top of the bowl then turned it over. The warm ashes fell

against her skin but didn’t burn. Quite the opposite actually. A cold unnatural shiver ran up her arm and down her spine, leaving footprints

on her very soul.

The witch continued to hold Miranda’s wrist, but removed the bowl. Miranda felt it then. The power, the undeniable sensation of magic.

Whatever the woman said would be the truth. Black magic or not. This woman’s words would not be a lie.

And then what? Her heart thumped out the question. Would she walk away from Shawn? Would she completely give up on Perry? Was she really ready

to hear this?

She glanced down. The ashes had created a pattern on her palm, almost like a henna tattoo. She watched as it spread up her wrist and midway to

her forearm.

The armadillo rushed across the witch’s feet, his tiny paws and overgrown claws tapping against the old wood floor. Miranda heard the old

witch gasp. She dropped Miranda’s hand and lurched back.

Tabitha reached for Miranda’s arm. “Why did her marks spread like that and mine never have?”

The witch stumbled a few more steps back and looked first at the freed creature, then back to Miranda’s arm. The white of her eyes grew

larger. But from what? Fear? Shock? Anger that her armadillo was free? What was she thinking?

“You should go!” Her gravelly voice rang in the dark, followed by a sound of distant thunder.

“Go?” Tabitha asked, the single-word question punctuated with a low back-of-the-throat sound of disapproval. “Not until you read me. I need

to know about Anthony. My mom hates him, but I think he might be my life mate.”

“Go. Now!” The witch’s gaze shot back to Miranda. Fear and something else flickered in her eyes.

Was she pissed because Miranda had freed the animal, or were … were Miranda’s markings making the witch panic?

Before Miranda could decide which it was, encroaching thunder shattered the silence. The walls, the drapes, the table, everything in the room

started trembling. The approaching storm drew closer as if something in this very room called it.

The candles on the table shook, their flames reaching up higher and higher. Miranda held out her pinky to calm the chaos, but no magic came

out.

Oh, crap!

She saw Tabitha attempt and fail with the same calming spell.