Previously on Trancing Miranda
Nick and Miranda meet. Miranda chooses a sunny restaurant because most vampires are unable to compel people in full sun. While this is not true of Nick, he likes that she’s strategic. He notices that she is wearing an authentic fae amulet. Hoping to secure her cooperation, he tells her he is with the Vampire Council and that her attacker, Tony Gyari is dangerous, and must be stopped. Nick asks Miranda to take him to see Layla Peterson because Layla knows Tony. Miranda doesn’t like the Council and wants to know what’s in it for her.
Wheeling and Dealing
Miranda agreed to take the blueblood to see Layla, but she insisted on taking her own car. Now she was sitting on the hood of the ancient Honda Civic, scrolling on her phone while she waited for him to park.
She didn’t see him find a spot or get out, but she caught his energy from down the block. Pretending she hadn’t noticed him, she kept her eyes on her phone until he was directly in front of her.
“You’re going to ruin the paint job,” he said.
Miranda uncrossed her legs, and the heel of her boot made a long black streak on the faded silver hood. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s already ruined.”
He smiled, and it was a nice smile. Bright and charming and surprisingly normal.
Nick Markovich handled sunlight better than any blueblood she’d ever met. He was casting an actual shadow, completely at ease. And, creature of the night or not, daytime suited him.
The sun warmed his dark hair, reflected off the black wraparound sunglasses, and caught the pale gray threads in the trendy charcoal-colored suit.
The suit looked built for him instead of tailored, reminding Miranda of Russian TV mafia, or old money, or some magazine guy in an overpriced cologne ad.
None of which was bad.
“Is that it?” he asked, nodding at the shop across the street, and Miranda looked too, even though she’d seen the place a hundred times before.
It wasn’t much to look at.
One of the stained glass inserts flanking the door was cracked and the whole shop seemed to be listing a little to the left, as if something was weighing it down.
Under a ratty burgundy awning, the front window was crowded with statues and books and colored bottles of various sizes. A faded purple banner dangled just behind the merchandise.
Conjure Moon. Come on in and shop for a spell.
“It’s where she works,” Miranda said. “Her name is Layla Peterson. She’s friends with my sister, Violet, or was before Violet went away to school.”
On Daniel’s dime, which was kind of funny, given how much Violet disliked him.
“Okay.” Nick pulled out his wallet and counted out the 500 agreed-upon dollars. “But you owe me another lead if this one doesn’t pan out.”
“No.” Miranda twisted to shove the money into the back pocket of her jeans. “I don’t owe you anything. I give you the info. If you don’t know what to do with it, that’s on you. If you need more help, you have to ante up—and it can’t be today because I have work.”
“You just made 500 dollars.” He frowned. “Why not take a day to get back on your feet?”
It was a nice thought, but Daniel would make some kind of crack and she didn’t want to hear it. And if she got through one shift, she could get through another.
“Not your business, Nick.
Trancing Miranda is finished. New installments now posting weekly!
© 2025-2026 Barbara Graver. All rights reserved. This is an original work of fiction. Do not reproduce or redistribute without written permission.
Their transactional, high-stakes banter is so fun to watch.