Trapped

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Trapped Page 7

by Amanda Byrd


  “At least this time you made sure we won’t have to worry about a vengeful spirit coming back,” Teddy remarked rather coldly.

  “Oh bite me. You act like vengeful spirits aren’t something I’ve faced before. Calm down. Oh, and thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek after wiping the blood from her face. She then licked every last bit from her hand.

  “All clean. Time to go back to the suite.”

  They got back in the rental Mini and drove back to their hotel. MIRANDA! That was the best yet! Tell us you have much more fun like this planned? Of course I do, idiots. That was a lot of fun. And the taste! Oh my god that was delectable! But we have to wait until we get home. I don’t need Interpol up my ass for this.

  As soon as they entered their suite, Miranda fell onto the bed, elated yet spent. She closed her eyes and fell asleep immediately, fully dressed.

  Nine

  Their time in England had quickly come to an end and Miranda was surprisingly grateful for that. She was excited to return home to Margot, Will, Emperor Bête Noir, and King Nightmare. Considering they had never unpacked their bags, packing to leave was a simple matter, taken care of in short order. Miranda and Teddy decided they would take their own bags down to check out and wait for the taxi. Miranda was in no mood to interact with too many other humans today; she needed blood and had to wait the full flight back on top of the time waiting at the airport. She knew she could not successfully nibble another human at the airport, so secure were they any more.

  The taxi arrived while Miranda was signing the final paperwork, so Teddy grabbed her luggage and took it outside. Outside, the bellhop tried to intervene, insisting he should be the one taking the bags, but Teddy said something Miranda could not hear, the man bowed, and came back inside. Miranda thanked the woman at the desk for a lovely stay and exited the building to the waiting taxi. She was blood-hungry but had to force herself to wait—impatiently—until they got to home to do something about it. The more you consume, the more the hunger consumes you. Shut your mouth, er, voice. I’ve figured that much out already. I feel her again. It really pisses me off that I can never see her, though. Can either of you? A moment of pure silence rolled through her brain, scaring her, because that just never happened; she was always thinking about something. Nope, we don’t see her. Or do you and you’re lying so I don’t launch into full attack mode? No, really, we can’t see her. Little did anyone know, Elisonde was perched on her chimera, Interment, on the roof of a nearby high-rise.

  Interment was an appropriate name for the chimera—it had three heads: dragon, lion, and ram, and was fully armored with dragon scales, wings, and tail—and Elisonde preferred to let the dragon take its fiery aim at her victims. Miranda knew none of this, yet, but she suspected she would learn more about Elisonde as the months went on. The nagging feeling that Elisonde would show up in Tampa simply would not go away. Miranda shook the thought out of her head, a little too forcefully, she thought, because Teddy noticed.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I was just lost in my mind, which we know is one dangerous place to be lost,’’ she let out a bit of a sarcastic laugh, but not enough so as to be called a laugh.

  They rode the rest of the way to the airport in silence. When they got there, Teddy got out immediately, almost intentionally avoiding conversation with Miranda. She paid and tipped the driver and got out. Teddy was waiting curbside with their luggage, Miranda grabbed the handle of hers, and started off to check in for their flight home. Teddy barely spoke a word. This was not Miranda’s Teddy. What’s with him? Why won’t he talk to me? Hmmph. I’ll find out one way or another. Miranda, we think he may feel a little, umm, slighted, by what went down in the pub. How the hell else am I supposed to lure drunkards? My charm is part of the act to make them come home to play. I can’t just keep kidnapping people. Jail is not somewhere I want to be. What the hell, you two? We know, but maybe Teddy doesn’t see it that way? Okay, I’ll let him know I know he probably feels weird, especially watching, but he will understand that we can’t keep kidnapping people. We can have the full conversation when we get home. Shit! That reminds me, I have to call Frank to let Billy know to clean King and Emperor when they get there. And that damned pool had best be done. I can only imagine the humidity right now. Checking in, security, and customs were all much different here; much more thorough and Miranda appreciated that. Sure the quick check was appreciated and all, but how thorough was it really? This check was everything except strip search, though it sure felt as though it could quickly turn into that. Once they were through having their passports triple checked, they were off to the bar, having arrived an hour and a half early again. At least Miranda would not have time to throw back thirteen Long Islands again. Do bars here even have Long Islands? She quickly called Frank to find the pool finished and instructed him to relay to Billy the cleaning of the gargoyles.

  Teddy chose a bar close enough to their gate, even though they only had to be there about twenty minutes early. Teddy ordered a lager of some type and Miranda ordered Beck’s Dark. It had been many years since she had one, so she wanted to see if it still tasted as good as it used to. While it was as delicious as it used to be, it did not hold the same appeal it used to. Her next beer would be a whit beer, which she preferred anyway. She looked at the various taps and found a German whit beer and selected that. It was truly lovely. Turning to Teddy, she studied his face to determine his mood before she spoke.

  “Babe, are you okay?”

  “Not really,” came his curt response.

  “Okay. I think I may know what the problem is.”

  Teddy swiveled his head to her, an inquisitive, almost challenging look on his face.

  “You’re mad you had to watch me shamelessly flirt with,” she lowered her voice here, almost a whisper, “potential dinners.”

  “Hit the nail on the head.”

  “I’m sorry babe, but how else were we, was I, supposed to pull that off? I sure couldn’t have had a cab waiting. How does one explain ‘Oh I’m just carrying the guy I showed up with’s dead body to burn it’? You can’t. You can’t. No one can. Accident, maybe, but with the guys throat and heart ripped out? No way. How about we celebrate our castle now and we can finish this when we get home, where the only ears are King Nightmare, Emperor Bête Noir, Margot, and Will?”

  Heaving out a sigh, Teddy reluctantly agreed.

  “Besides, it would seem we may have bigger things to deal with once we get home,” Miranda said as she ordered another round.

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “Elisonde. I’ll fill you in on the plane or at the gate. Not here. I feel her watching and she has been since we got here. I don’t know what the hell I ever did to her, but she wants me dead, and you and I both know that won’t happen.”

  Teddy got a good laugh out of that. He knew Miranda had yet to be bested in battle and probably never would be. Hell, even her human self was vicious. She poked and prodded and dug deep, and that was just during an argument! But he could see the worry on Miranda’s face—that she was thinking things he did not want to know. I mean, seriously, you guys. She could be planning some kind of set-up to have me killed or worse, arrested. That shit just ain’t gonna fly. Tampa is MY city and that bitch will rue the day, at the very least, that she decided to screw with me. I have two monsters in me AND two gargoyles. Who does she think she’s playing with? Bitch is crazy, that’s for sure. Don’t worry about her now. Feel and plan, now and when we get home. Miranda, she has no hope of beating you. Ever. Another round and the voice sounded throughout London Heathrow that their flight was thirty minutes from boarding. Teddy paid but the bartender refused the tip—one of those European things where tipping is not allowed. Together, arm in arm like nothing was wrong between them, they walked to the gate.

  Twenty minutes later, the flight attendants announced boarding would begin. They got in line, walked through the tunn
el, and entered the plane where a male attendant greeted them warmly, directing them to their seats. Miranda offered Teddy the window, but he declined, opting to sit in the middle seat again. The flight was quite uneventful and dull, however, it did allow Miranda to put a dent in her to be read pile—she did bring one or two books from that pile to read in-flight. She knocked out both books and fell asleep. It was a fitful sleep, full of a normal human’s nightmares, but her usual. It even contained one of the images imparted to her by Emperor Bête Noir, the raining down of blood around a ring of fire in an empty field, Miranda flying on Emperor, while King attacked a blurry figure. She awoke just before they landed in Atlanta for their thirty-minute stopover. What the crap was that?

  She and Teddy were practically forced to jog to the next gate, all the way at the other end of the airport, to catch their flight back to Tampa. Breathing heavily—at least Teddy was—they had their boarding passes checked, and got on their last jet for some time. Again Miranda offered the window and again Teddy chose the middle. As soon as the lights went out for their seatbelts, Miranda fell back to sleep. A comfortable, deep sleep, that lasted an hour and a half until they touched down in Tampa. They got off the plane and went to the carousel to wait for their luggage. When it came around, they grabbed it and headed straight for the car they had waiting for them.

  Ten

  Their conversation that started in London finished in the car. Teddy talked about not having to watch Miranda flirt with prey and Miranda truly had no defense, nor did she want one. Miranda apologized and promised it would never happen again. And why should it have to since they were now home and had no plans on taking another trip? Besides, she had her new practice for that—an office specifically for that. Patients were already scheduled and waiting, as was the usual for this city.

  People here actually care about their mental health. This feels like a dream but I have won awards and am highly recommended, so a waiting period is perfectly normal. Miranda, you’re a great doctor and an even better predator. We couldn’t have chosen a better host. When do we feast again? I don’t know, damn. You two need to calm down on that, by the way. We have to carefully vet these patients, remember? We can’t just keep letting the bodies pile up, so to speak. Which reminds me, we have to find the bones of that last rando we toyed with to salt and burn them. I really don’t feel like dealing with a vengeful spirit.

  “Teddy, I swear on the new additions to the family . . .”

  “I already said fine, jeez,” he said laughing, “I get why it was necessary, I do. It just bothered me the more I thought about it is all.”

  “I know and I really am sorry. I couldn’t figure out another way.”

  Miranda hung her head in shame. Teddy put his hand under her chin, pulling her head up and turning it to face his. He kissed her and smiled. Miranda smiled back a sheepish smile. She really did feel awful for how her feasting in London happened and there really was no excuse, but Teddy agreed to it. What had been done could not be undone. She decided to take it as a learning experience and move on.

  As the conversation ended, the car pulled into the driveway. Miranda looked at the stone pillars that were to hold her new children and smiled an evil and prideful smile only she could. In just one more day they would be here enjoying a bath from Billy. This thought also reminded her that he and Frank had to be paid so they could move on and she could be rid of them. It amused her that Frank was so terrified of her from phone conversations. He had never been able to figure out why either. Perhaps he simply felt the monsters that dwelled in her. Regardless, he had done what she required and this was goodbye. New contractors would be called upon each time she had a new project.

  They took their luggage inside and Miranda went straight upstairs. It was getting close to ten and she had to check in with her new receptionist in the morning to get the basics of her schedule in her planner. It was only a phone call to the girl’s cell phone, but she was exhausted, particularly from trying to figure out Elisonde’s motives and when she would conveniently run into her again. Sadly, she knew it would not be at her convenience. She was also excited for the boys to arrive but that excitement was overrun and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

  Dreams of feasts, bloody and warm, flitted across the inside of her eyelids as the alarm made its obnoxious noises above her on top of the headboard. She picked it up, without opening her eyes, and threw it across the room and out the door. Teddy snapped one eye open, glaring at her. She felt it and opened both of her eyes in response, a grin across her lips. Immediately following her eyes opening came the screams of Will. A hungry cat always knows when its human’s eyes are open. She just rolled her eyes and let out a decent size sigh, then looked at Teddy.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming you two.”

  Miranda giggled because she knew she could start getting ready for the day and Teddy would be back bearing a cup of coffee for her, along with his. She kissed Teddy and got out of bed as fast as her body would let her, which was surprisingly fast, given she still felt exhausted from their trip. Why am I still so worn out? Guys, a hand here? Seriously, what gives? Miranda, see . . . Come on. Give it up already. I don’t have time for this bullshittery. Spill it. Now. Well, your body listens to us, but honestly, you’re just not used to this life yet. Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Wow. Total and utter nonsensical bullshit. Whatever. I’ll find that cure, just you wait. I’ll be rid of you morons soon enough. If you say so, Miranda. Did you just laugh at me? You did! Jerks.

  True to form, Teddy arrived with Miranda’s coffee while she was brushing her teeth. She was glad for that, considering it was still a touch too hot for her to drink. When she finished, she went into the closet to choose the outfit for the day. First-time patients required a good impression be made. That was not to say she typically dressed like a hobo but she did not want to be a stuffy suit type either. She pulled out some leggings and a dress that looked like it could double as an oversized shirt. Comfort was key, especially given that most of her day was spent sitting. Even jeans rode up into an uncomfortable and unwelcome place. She shook that thought away and continued on getting herself together for the day.

  Before heading to the garage, Miranda grabbed a black trash bag from the kitchen to dispose of her particular brand of juice pouches. In the garage, she opened the warmer, picking out four bags to sustain her for what would be a long day. She figured she would return home around seven that evening. She pet Night Chariot before getting in, admiring the softness of the paint and the beauty inherent in the vehicle’s engineering. She got in and headed for the office. The thought of vetting patients to allow admission to her home office was tiring, so she popped a hole in one of her blood packs and drank happily, finishing it by the time she was three minutes from the office.

  She parked in her designated spot and stopped. Shit! I forgot something to carry these packs in! She called her receptionist while pulling out of her parking spot and told her she would be a few minutes late. There was a store, Wal-something, she did not care, where she could find a lunch tote, down the street. She selected a solid black one and was back on her way. When she parked again at her office, she quickly stuffed the packs into the tote and just about fell out of Night Chariot in her rush to get inside. Dammit! I hate being late. I’ll bet this first one won’t come back. I know I wouldn’t if it was my doctor. Miranda, your psychiatrist is ALWAYS late. Shut it. You’re only allowed to speak—is speak the right word?—when we find the ones allowed to come to the home office. Now hush.

  Miranda ran into the building, bursting through the office door.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she huffed as she glanced at her watch, “Only three minutes, but I usually don’t like being late. I’m so sorry.”

  Miranda motioned for the first patient to follow her, muttering something along the lines of follow me, as she walked briskly to her office door and opened it.

  “After you,”
and she held the door open until the patient was inside.

  Male, physically fit-ish, unkempt . . . This could be a good one or not. Let’s see what he has to say, shall we kids?

  “I’m Dr. Miranda van Wolfe,” she introduced herself, shaking the patient’s hand and sitting in her own chair across from him, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me about yourself . . . William.” She was flipping through his new patient paperwork as she spoke, going over the information he had written down. Atrocious handwriting, balls. No emergency contact . . . You said what? He has no one? Oh this is going to be lovely. Insurance? No, none of that either. Well then, I think we found our next plaything, err, dinner. William started talking, or that is what Miranda thought he was doing, though it did not sound like talking. More of a mumble than anything.

  “William, I can’t understand you. You have to speak up and not mumble. You want help for your . . .” she glanced at his paperwork again, “what you call severe social anxiety, right? How am I supposed to help you if you don’t speak so I can hear and understand. Look,” she bent over and put her elbows on her knees, looking him in the eyes, “I promise I know how hard this is. I suffer many anxieties, too. Just talk to me and we can figure this out, okay?”

 

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