Previously on Trancing Miranda
Miranda and Nick go to Conjure Moon to question Layla about Miranda’s attacker Tony Gyari. When Layla threatens to call Regio Security, Nick stops her with vampire magic. Still under the power of the spell, Layla writes down everything she knows about Tony. Miranda leaves with the Our lady of Guadalupe statue she saw in in the window display.
They were standing next to the Honda. Miranda was balancing Our Lady of Guadalupe on one hip. Nick was reading what Layla had written.
The statue was plaster and heavier than it looked. It would have been smart to let the superhumanly strong vampire carry it out, but Miranda had been determined to do it herself.
“I don’t know why you wanted that,” he said without looking up.
“You dropped three hundred dollars. I had to get something.”
“There were plenty of skulls.”
Miranda shifted the statue so she could get to her keys. “She looked sad.”
He laughed. “Probably because she’s cursed.”
He wasn’t wrong. The air around the statue shimmered like asphalt on a hot summer day.
Miranda got the trunk open. The interior was filled with stuff she’d meant to take to the thrift store, but hadn’t. It was a mess. Just like she was.
It was hotter now than it had been when they went in, or maybe it was the weight of the statue. Either way, Miranda’s face was sweaty, and a flyaway spiral of hair was stuck to her cheek.
“That bag is full of old towels,” she said. “Could you put away the papers and lay one out?”
Nick folded the notebook pages and put them into his pocket. “I’m not kidding about the curse,” he said as he spread out the towels. “I don't know where they got that stuff but a lot of it was enchanted.”
He could sense energy, then, pretty specifically for a vampire, and stick wounds together and stop people from bleeding out—which was all unusual. “I’ll get her blessed tomorrow.”
Miranda put Our Lady of Guadalupe down carefully in the space Nick had made. The statue was old and well-executed and surprisingly true to life, with mournful brown glass eyes and a green cloak covered with stars.
“Can I read what Layla wrote?” she asked.
“If you tell me why she’s afraid of you.”
“No idea.”
“If you say so.” He checked his phone. “I have to run, but maybe we could catch up later? I could stop by your work, if that’s okay?”
It was a question. He had asked for her permission. Blueblood vampires never asked—and this one hadn’t only asked, he was actually standing there waiting for an answer.
It was so unexpected that Miranda wanted to tell him to stop.
Stop acting human. Stop being nice. Stop trying to play me.
Another, dumber part did not.
Dumb won.
“I guess.”
He grinned—a nice, normal human grin that made him look like a nice normal human guy, aside from the crazy silver-gray eyes.
And Miranda wondered what it might be like to just sit on the couch with Nick Markovich and eat popcorn and watch TV and feel him next to her, warm and safe and solid.
Then she thought of Layla and her awful frozen smile.
She slammed the trunk on Our Lady of Guadalupe.
“I should go.”
Trancing Miranda is finished. New installments now posting weekly!
🔔 Please note: All installments post as noted but I may skip an installment from time to time to send out an essay, media post or piece of creative nonfiction.
© 2025-2026 Barbara Graver. All rights reserved. This is an original work of fiction. Do not reproduce or redistribute without written permission.
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