When He Was Bad Page 53
“I don’t need to stay with you, Sam.” Her voice was clear.
“Then I’ll send the patrol and—”
She met Cain’s stare. “My neighbor has room for me. I’ll be staying with him.”
His blood seemed to heat. Miranda in his house. Perfect.
“Ah, hell,” Sam muttered. “Cuz, you know what you’re doing? You just had one guy who hurt you—”
Her chin lifted, but her gaze never wavered. “And one guy who saved me. Yeah, I know what I’m doing.”
Cuz. Cousin. Cain relaxed muscles he hadn’t even realized that he’d tensed.
“I’m still sending out my patrol.”
Cain gave a slight nod. “Good. And make damn sure that the men you send out are well-armed.” Not that a normal bullet would be able to do much damage to one of the undead but—
It would sure sting like a bitch.
“And you come in to the station first thing tomorrow, Miranda, you got me? You come in, finish this report, and then we’ll get Stan to come out here and put up a new door and a damn sight better security system.”
“No arguments there,” she said, and again lifted her hand to press lightly against her throat. When she winced, Cain ground his back teeth.
“You need to go to the hospital.” Sam was tapping his foot against the stone steps as he made this decree.
“I’ve told you five times already, I’m not going. I let that crime scene guy photograph me, but that is it! I’ve got a few scratches, I don’t need to drive forty minutes to get to Springs Memorial to have a doctor tell me I’m fine,” she snapped.
Cain blinked. Oh, but the lady had a nice temper on her. He liked that—a lot.
“Okay, calm down.” Sam motioned to the other deputies.
“I am calm!” she yelled. “I’ve just had one hell of a night and I really, really just want to get in bed now and try to pretend that all of this crap never happened!”
That’s what the humans usually did. Made excuses for the things they saw. Tried to act like reality wasn’t some screwed-up mix of heaven and hell.
Sometimes those lies worked.
Sometimes they didn’t.
Sam hugged Miranda. “Fine, but I’ll be close. Call if you need me.”
She brushed his shoulder a bit awkwardly. “Okay, uh, thanks.”
He turned his attention to Cain. “Watch her, and you damn well don’t even think of taking advantage.”
Well, other than his plans to rip apart the vampire, taking advantage of Miranda was the only other thing occupying his mind. Not that he was going to confide that little tidbit to the uniform, but—
“All right, guys, let’s pack it up and get out of here. I want to search SmithSwamp and get the status on the men in the woods,” Sam said, snapping out orders as he walked away.
A few minutes later, the cars disappeared in a swirl of blue and white lights.
Cain was left alone with Miranda.
Finally.
Two
She had to be crazy. Miranda paced the length of Cain’s living room, spared a brief glance for the unpacked boxes lined neatly along the left wall, and tried very hard to make her hands stop shaking.
Alone with Cain Lawson. Jeez. Had she taken leave of all her sanity? She should have gone with Sam or locked her house up tight and—
“You’re safe with me, Miranda. Relax.” His voice sounded from right behind her and Miranda spun around, surprised to find that Cain had crept silently from the kitchen.
He held up two glasses, each filled with a dark, amber liquid. “Here, drink some. It’ll make you feel better.”
Well, since she doubted that she could feel any worse . . . Miranda took the offered drink and downed the fiery contents in two deep gulps.
When she handed him the glass back, her hands weren’t shaking any longer, but her gut seemed to be on fire.
He smiled at her and damn if the man didn’t have the sexiest dimple she’d ever seen along his right cheek.
Get a grip. You’re running on adrenaline and fumes right now. Stop lusting after the man next door.
Cain set the glasses down with a soft clink on a nearby table.
Miranda exhaled slowly. “I, um, didn’t get a chance to thank you before.” When Sam had appeared with his sirens wailing, there’d been no time at all to speak privately with Cain. It had been a mad rush of explanations, searches, and general chaos.
No, there’d been no time to thank Cain for saving her life. And there’d been no time to ask if he truly thought Paul Roberts was a vampire.
And what about Cain? For a while there, he’d been sporting teeth a hell of a lot sharper than the ones he showed now.
Hadn’t he? She rubbed her brow, suddenly confused.
“You don’t have to thank me.” A deep rumble of sound, almost like a growl.
The man had the deepest, roughest voice she’d ever heard. One that made her toes curl and her thighs quiver.
Down, girl.
Her hormones were going crazy and her mind was turning into mush. Had to be the excitement of the night.
“I did what any man would have done.”
She shook her head at that. “Uh, no.” Miranda could still see the men locked in brutal combat. “I don’t know many guys who would have kicked down a door to save me.”
He caught her hand. Brought her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. “Then you don’t know the right kind of men.”
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