Page 70 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

A million dollars? What?

Mother laughs like any of this is funny. “That was eight years ago, Nora, inflation. That million dollars is gone. I kept my end of the deal. I let you pay her tuition and remain in one school to finish high school and let her attend college where she wished. I put up with her visits until she turned twenty-one. I didn’t interfere. I wouldn’t be here now if your brat of a daughter didn’t poke her nose into my business. But she did, and here we are. If I’m inconvenienced, then you will be too.”

“She’s an adult who can make her own choices. Why should I give you anything?” Nora asks.

“Can she really make her own decisions? You know she wants to please me. She always has. Desperate for her mummy to love her. Pathetic.” Mother shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, like none of this matters. “I told her how you didn’t want her anymore and insisted we take her away. How she wasn’t safe with you. How she didn’t see a unicorn and to stop lying. I’ve told her lots of things, and she believes me.”

Tears slip down my cheeks. Trevor hugs me from behind, and I grasp his arms like they are my lifeline. In a way, they are. Sophie is gasping and sputtering over being called a brat. Like that’s the worst thing in the world. Teagan snaps her fingers again, and a box of tissues appears. I wish I had witch powers, being able to conjure up French fries or cookies whenever I want would be handy. Especially on days you hear your mother hates you and lies to you like it’s her hobby. But…I do have powers. But my mother has been suppressing them and the suppression is slipping since I caused Brick to shift. I look at the glass of whisky—empty. Would Teagan snap me another if I asked? Before I can, she snaps, and it’s refilled. I take a grateful sip.

“Give me the money, and Miranda and Declan can get married, give you the grandbabies you want. Live their boring happily ever after. Don’t give me the money and I’ll introduce Miranda to people I know from the racing circuit. I know lots of men who would like an innocent like Miranda. She wouldn’t be innocent for long. Not that she is now since your son tarnished her, but she’s still innocent enough they’ll enjoy breaking her in.”

I retch. The whisky threatening to come back up. I can’t believe what my mother is saying. Trevor is growling like Declan does. Like Declan did. Sophie is silent. I think she’s finally shocked.

“And it’s not only Miranda who will be affected. Declan’s hand is broken. It would be a shame if Sophie’s dance career was ended by an injury that never healed properly. You know, maybe five million isn’t enough. I think ten million is more than fair.”

I’ve heard enough. “Remove the barrier,” I tell Teagan in a low voice, handing Carter my tumbler. He gulps down the remainder and bends to place the glass on the carpet.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

I nod. Before she does, she hands Trevor the tissues and takes my hands in hers. She murmurs some kind of incantation, and power ripples from her hands to mine and through my body. I don’t know if it’s a protection spell or something else, but I have strength and confidence in what I’m about to do.

The air shimmers as Teagan removes the barrier and I enter the suite. Mother spins around and gives me a loving smile.

“Miranda, you’re back early. Have you had lunch? Nora and I were discussing where we could take you and Sophie for a treat. Weren’t we, Nora?”

How can she lie this smoothly? If I hadn’t heard what I did, I would have believed her.

“Actually, Mother,” I say coolly, walking toward her, “I’ve been here for a while. I heard everything you said. I’d ask how you could do that to me, but you’ve already explained how I was essentially an annuity for you, and you hate me. Is there anything else to say? I didn’t want to believe people who told me you were a narcissistic piece of shit, but I guess I should have.”

“How dare you speak to me like that,” Mother shrieks and raises her hand to strike me. Before she’s able to land the blow, Sophie shouts, “No!” and holds her hand up with her palm facing us. Mother’s hand stops in mid strike like it hit a wall and she wails in pain.

“That’s for Declan,” Sophie says with a nod.

I want to give her a high five, but she’s been a bitch to me, and the temptation is to make it a high five to her face. I’m not going to risk it.

“You bitch,” Mother shrieks and lunges toward Sophie. Trevor steps in front of Sophie to protect her. Like she can’t protect herself, but the intention is sweet.

“Mother, you aren’t getting a dime from anyone, and you are to pack your things and leave. You are to never contact me again…”

“You’re dead to me. I wish you had never been born,” Mother shouts.

“Yes, well, whatever. I consider myself an orphan since Father never stepped in to stop you so, pretend you never knew me. Hopefully, with enough therapy, I can pretend I never knew you.”

Hotel security enters the suite. Teagan must have summoned them. Sophie, Nora, and Teagan join hands and cast some kind of protective spell. I barely hear it with the blood rushing in my ears. I feel faint, like an adrenaline rush has suddenly run out. Trevor guides me to the sofa and gently pushes me forward to guide my head between my knees. He strokes my back and murmurs soothing words as sobs rack my body. Nora sits on my other side and runs her fingers along my scalp. Cocooned between the two of them, I could easily be lulled to sleep. I hate showing weakness before my—I stop myself from thinking of that…creature…as my mother—her.

“You’re behind a cloaking spell. She can’t see us,” Nora says as if she can read my mind. Maybe she did. I don’t know anything any longer.

Teagan announces, as head of the Atlantic County Coven of the New Jersey Association of Covens, under whose jurisdiction Doreen falls as a resident witch of New Jersey, she is performing the witchy version of a citizen’s arrest and suppressing Doreen’s powers because of her continued assault against my magic. She will have a trial before the Witches’ Council. Who knew witches had a council, too? I guess everyone gets one? I picture Oprah pointing, saying, “You get a council. And you get a council,” to an entire room full of paranormal folk and giggle. I think it’s more from shock than from humor. Then, I groan because giggling jarred my brain and makes my head hurt more. In a matter of minutes, Doreen is marched out of the suite, hopefully right back to the rock she slithered out from. My head is pounding.

“You’ve had quite a shock, dear. Come to my suite and lay down,” Nora says. I would have nodded in agreement, but my head couldn’t take it.

I’m about to rise when suddenly Bedard is in the doorway. “Don’t drink the tea,” he exclaims, slightly out of breath.

“What?” I ask. What the hell is he talking about?

“The tea from your mother,” he says, “It’s not good for you. There’s an herb in it that makes you susceptible to the power of suggestion.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Could this get any weirder?

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