Page 3 of Wicked Ways

Paul was just a few feet away. The men were both pretty much ignoring her now, and if Paul kept his advance going, he’d be in front of her in seconds.

“Do you think she’s going to be yours?” Paul asked, voice that of the dull, annoying gentleman she’d had dinner with that evening. “Women like her don’t go for animals.”

Cain flexed his hands. “Yeah, well, they don’t tend to go for sadistic parasites, either.”

Miranda had no clue what they were talking about. Parasites? Animals? What? Keeping her gaze darting between her would-be rescuer and the biter, she began to edge to the left. Toward the very, very big crystal vase that Grandma Belle, rest her sweet soul, had given her when she’d first moved into the house five years ago.

Her fingers wrapped around the crystal. Tested its cold weight.

“I can have any woman,” Paul boasted. “They all beg for my bite.”

Now Miranda was the one choking back a growl. The bastard was almost in range. She lifted the vase, heaving it over her head.

He took another step forward.

Then he spun toward her with his face twisted in fury.

She didn’t hesitate. Miranda hurled the vase at Paul, slamming the crystal right at him.

The vase shattered with a crash. Shards of crystal littered the floor. Blood covered Paul’s face, trickling down his already-battered cheeks and his chin.

But the man didn’t fall. Didn’t so much as stumble.

He smiled at her. “I knew you’d be special.”

Special? She’d just tried to brain the guy!

His hands lifted toward her, and her stomach tightened.

Then Cain was there, clenching his hands around Paul’s shoulders and throwing the bloody bastard against the wall. The impact seemed to shake her small house.

And Paul didn’t get up.

Cain stared at her. Those mysterious golden eyes of his gleamed with a feverish intensity. “You all right?”

Not really. She suspected she might be minutes away from a breakdown and⁠—

“Why the hell are you dating a vampire?”

Uh, no, she wasn’t. Because vampires weren’t real and⁠—

And her date had just tried to bite her and drain her blood. Like a vampire.

Vampire.

Her knees buckled. Miranda hit the floor, almost as hard as Paul had just hit the wall.

Cain leapt over the couch. “Miranda?” His gravelly voice was tinged with a faint drawl. One that had made her think of cowboys the first time she’d heard that deep rumble.

“I—I just need…a minute.” Or maybe an hour.

He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and pressing her against the soft front of his T-shirt and that rock-hard chest of his.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now⁠—”

Yeah, well, she wasn’t exactly ready to believe that one yet.

“He didn’t drain you. And he didn’t give you an exchange, right?”