Page 4 of Wicked Ways

She blinked up at him. “An exchange of what?” She hadn’t even kissed the guy, so it sure as hell wasn’t like they’d exchanged anything. He’d asked if he could come inside to use her bathroom, so she’d let him into her house. The next thing she’d known, his teeth had been in her throat.

“Shit.” Cain stiffened against her. “The cops are here.”

No, they weren’t, but the local deputies would probably be on their way soon, provided the dispatch caller had managed to get someone at the sheriff’s office and⁠—

The shrill cry of a siren reached her ears.

“They aren’t equipped to handle him.”

She pushed away from Cain. Painful that, because the man sure felt good. Her gaze darted back to Paul. He was still unconscious. Should be easy enough for Sam Michaels and the other deputies to handle.

Paul’s eyes snapped open. Only they weren’t the light blue eyes he’d had before. They were pitch black. Blazing with fury.

The guy seemed to fly to his feet.

Cain shoved her back.

But Paul didn’t come for her. He ran for the broken door. Dripping blood. Swearing.

Cain followed right on his heels.

So did she.

Just as she reached the edge of her porch, two patrol cars roared up the gravel drive and braked in a cloud of dust and rocks. Paul ran straight toward them, then over them as he jumped onto the hood of one car and then appeared to soar over the other.

Deputies burst out of the vehicles, and Miranda was relieved to see her cousin, Deputy Sam Michaels, on the scene.

Cain rushed after her wild date, only to be brought up short when Sam brandished his gun and yelled, “Freeze, asshole!” Then he turned to the deputies, muttering, “Dammit, where the hell did that other bastard go?”

But it was too late. Paul had run straight into the woods. His abandoned SUV waited near the side of her house.

“Go after him, now!” Sam ordered.

Two men scrambled to obey.

Cain stood before her, hands up. “Uh, Miranda, tell him I’m not the bad guy here.”

For an instant, she remembered the brutal look on his face when he’d burst into her home. He’d sure looked pretty bad then. And he’d more than left his mark on Paul.

“Miranda…”

But he’d saved her ass. “Th—the other one, Sam. The other one is the one who—who”—bit—“attacked me.”

Sam swore and lowered his gun.

“You’re not gonna catch him.” Cain dropped his hands. “The bastard will be long gone before your men can even catch his trail.”

Now Sam’s already tense face hardened even more. “Oh, yeah, and just how do you know that, buddy?”

“Because scum like that is used to running and hiding. You won’t find him.” He glared at the dark woods. “But I will, and that asshole can count on it.”

* * *

The pretty schoolteacher looked pale. Too pale.

Miranda Shaw sat huddled on her porch steps. Her small shoulders were slumped. Her dark hair was a tangle around her heart-shaped face. She kept glancing at him with those big, blue bedroom eyes of hers. She’d look at him, then when he caught her staring, her gaze would dart away.

The lady was afraid of him. Figured.