Page 53 of Wicked Ways

If the vampire would just stay down.

Just what would it take to kill one of his kind?

She was about to find out.

But first, she was gonna have to crawl through that window, because there was no way she’d be able to move the furniture barricaded before her door. Not in her current condition.

I’m coming, Cain.

Chapter Nine

The pads of his feet pounded against the ground. He had the vampire in his sights. The world around him shifted into a deadly red hue.

Rage.

The jaguar had only one purpose. To kill.

The scent of Miranda’s blood was in the air, mixing with the vampire’s. The stench of the undead killer burned his nose and had his whiskers jerking.

This time, there would be no escape for Paul Roberts. No mercy. The jaguar had none, and neither did the man.

In one bounding lunge, he tackled the vampire, sending Roberts crashing to the ground with the crunch of bones and the thud of flesh hitting earth. Roberts screamed in pain and rage, and twisted beneath him.

The jaguar let the vampire roll. He always liked to look into the eyes of his prey. The better to let the quarry know what hell waited.

The vampire’s lips twisted into what probably would have been a smile. Blood dripped down his chin. “Five more minutes…shifter. I’d…have…ch-changed her. Th-then she would have been mine.”

He snarled.

“Wh-what would you have done…then?”

Loved her anyway. The answer came from the heart of the man.

“I’ll…get her.”

Cain’s claws embedded in Paul’s chest.

The vampire coughed. Choked. “I’ll…g-get free…go af-after⁠—”

Never play with prey. His mother had taught him that.

Cain knew exactly how to kill a vampire. It was all too easy with his teeth and claws.

Roberts screamed again when Cain moved in for that final attack.

Then…silence.

He jumped away from the severed head and the body. Didn’t look at the remains of the vampire’s chest. And he caught the scent of honeysuckle on the wind.

No, not now, not⁠—

His head whipped to the right, and she was there. Standing in the light of the moon, her hair a dark, wild tangle around her pale face. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were on the vampire’s body. Or what was left of it.

Her right hand gripped a gun, one that was pointed at him.

She’d seen the beast kill. Seen him kill. He’d been so caught up in the red fury of bloodlust that he hadn’t even sensed her. Miranda had seen him as he’d never, ever wished her to see him.

Predator. Savage. Killer.