When He Was Bad (15 page)

Her head lifted, and he caught sight of the bruises, scratches, and
bite
marks on her neck. His hand clenched. Oh, yeah, he’d be finding that vamp. Very, very soon.

“You didn’t catch him,” she said, and sounded both alarmed and disgusted by that fact.

Of course they hadn’t. Humans weren’t equipped to track vampires. Not like he was. Cain knew he should have run full force into those woods after him, and if the deputies hadn’t trained their guns on him, he would have.

Then Miranda wouldn’t be sitting there looking furious and afraid.

But neither he nor Miranda had confided to the deputies about her date’s true nature. Cain hadn’t spoken up because he knew the uniformed men wouldn’t believe him.

Was Miranda keeping silent for the same reason? Or was something else holding her tongue?

Sam crossed to her side and put a hand on her shoulder.

Cain frowned at the man.

“I can keep a patrol car in the area. We’ve got an all-points bulletin out for him—”

Like that would do anything.

“We’ve fixed your door—”

Okay. His fault. Cain winced at the reminder. But when he’d heard Miranda’s scream and caught the scent of her blood on the wind, he’d been frantic to get to her side.

He barely remembered kicking open the door.

“You didn’t fix it,” she muttered. “You pretty much just nailed the thing shut.”

A cough from Sam. “Well, you can go in the back, can’t you?”

Miranda sighed and shrugged off his hand. Then she rose, holding tight to the railing.

“He’s not going to come back, Miranda. He’d be an absolute fool to head this way again.”

Unfortunately, most of the vamps Cain had met were fools. Or sadistic killers.

“I—It’s all right,” Miranda said. “I’ll put on the alarm and—”

Oh, hell, no. Cain marched toward her. Breathed in the sweet honeysuckle scent the woman carried, caught the richer smell of her blood. “You’re not staying alone.” Not until he’d caught that vampire.

A frown appeared between her brows. There was only a little moonlight trickling down on them, but her porch light shone brightly on the small area.

Yet even if it had been pitch black, he would have been able to see her almost perfectly. One of his kind’s little gifts.

He caught her hand. Became aware of just how small and delicate she was. He could crush her bones with a careless touch.

But he’d never be careless with a human female.

And certainly not with
her.

She licked her lips and the sensual swipe of her pink tongue had his cock swelling. “Wh—what are you proposing?”

The deputy glared at him.

“My place.” His bed, but they’d get to that later. “You can have the guest room, and you won’t have to worry about that vam—ah, jerk coming back.”

She blinked at him. Damn, but he loved that woman’s eyes. “That’s very kind of you—”

Kind.
He snorted. If the woman knew just how many hot and heavy fantasies he’d been having about her, the last word she’d use to describe him would be
kind.
“Baby, I want you safe. I don’t care what Sam here says”—he jerked his thumb toward the glowering human—“but that creep could be back.” And he didn’t want to take any chances with Miranda’s life.

Damn. Why had the woman been with that guy?

“There’s no reason for him to come—” Sam began.

“Miranda’s the reason.” The perfect temptation. Sensual woman. Sweet blood. How could the vampire resist?

How could he
? Especially once he got lovely Miranda locked inside his house?

The beast within began to growl.

He could easily hear the sound of her indrawn breath. Even over the dizzying call of the insects. The mutters of the men. The racing of his own heart.

Then she was pulling her hand away. Easing down the steps.

Running?

Forcing his gaze to break its lock on her, Cain surveyed the area. A large lake separated his place from Miranda’s. The woods surrounded their homes, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the town.

To the right, the way the vampire had fled, waited swamps. Alligators. Snakes.

If he was lucky, maybe one of them would attack the parasite.

Maybe.

“Miranda, if you want to stay with someone, you can stay with me,” Sam said, raising his voice and catching Cain’s attention.

Oh, hell, no. Not one of his options. Bad enough he had to compete with a bloodsucker to get the lady’s attention. He didn’t want to go against some kind of hick deputy.

“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 Smith Swamp 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.

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.”

Oh, damn. Now her knees were shaking. And was he staring at her with hunger in those golden eyes?

He kissed her hand again, and for a second, she felt the warm brush of his tongue against her fingers. Miranda tensed. “I—I should be going to bed.”
Alone.
Because while her hormones might be jumping on the adrenaline party, she wasn’t about to go falling into bed with her neighbor. Even if he had quite probably saved her life.

And even if he was sexy as all hell.

And even if just the sight of him did have her whole body tightening with arousal.

She pulled her hand away from Cain’s warm grasp and stepped toward the guest bedroom he’d shown her earlier.

“If that’s what you want…” The words were soft.

For an instant, she imagined him following her into that dark room and stripping.

Miranda swallowed, felt the faint sting along her throat. “Thank you, Cain. Really.” Her fingers wrapped around the doorframe.

He gave a faint nod.

Miranda turned away from him, stepping over the threshold.

“Just got one quick question for you, baby,” he murmured, and the floor squeaked beneath his feet.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she waited.

His dark brows pulled down low over his eyes. “Why the hell were you out with a vampire?”

Her jaw dropped open.
Again with the vampire talk
.

“Those bastards are sick. You can’t trust them, not one damn bit. Parasites. And they all fucking smell like the grave.”

Her head shook, although she wasn’t sure if she was denying his words or her own fears. “Paul isn’t a—a vampire.” There had to be another explanation for what happened. Because vampires weren’t real. They were on TV. In the movies. In books. But they weren’t real.

Some sicko with a blood fetish had attacked her. Simple as that. No vampire. No monster. No—

“Bullshit. That jerkoff was undead, and if I hadn’t gotten to you, he would have drained you dry in less than five minutes.”

Not a good image.

“Y—you’re wrong—”

“Oh, he would have. I’ve seen the bodies his kind leave behind.”

He was just trying to scare her.

And it’s working.
“Vampires don’t exist.” Said with more certainty than she currently felt. The wounds on her neck seemed to burn.

Cain stared at her, then slowly shook his head. “Baby, just what do you think happened tonight?”

“I was attacked.” Her shoulders straightened. “By someone very, very sick.” She didn’t want to think about the rest just then. Didn’t want to think about the white flash of Cain’s teeth or that terrible moment when she could have sworn that his nails lengthened into claws.

Because that couldn’t have happened.
Could. Not
. She’d been stressed. Things had been moving fast. She’d been confused and—

And she didn’t know what the hell was going on, but Miranda knew she was scared.

Maybe staying with Cain hadn’t been the best idea.

Sanity had decided to raise its annoying head too late.

Cain growled. Stepped toward her. “That’s the way you’re gonna play it, huh?”

“I’m not
playing
anything.” The words sounded false. Miranda had the sudden, stark feeling that she was standing on a precipice. And if she moved, if she stepped forward and saw what waited over that deadly edge, she’d fall and her life would change. Forever.

Cain’s eyes were on her. Seeing far too much. “There’s something I need to show you.” Then he grabbed her hands and all but jerked her back into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” She tried to dig in her heels but the man was strong. Crazy strong. Miranda remembered the almost effortless way he’d tossed Paul across the room.
Uh-oh.
Okay, so she hadn’t imagined that part of the night.

He shoved open a white door. Stepped inside a bathroom. He freed her hands and hit the light switch, then he pushed her in front of the mirror. Cain caught her hair and pulled it back, exposing the savaged column of her throat. “Take a long, hard look.”

She did. Scratches. Mottled skin.

And two tiny puncture wounds.

Her hands flattened against the sink and she rocked forward, straining to get a better view. She’d expected to see the imprint of a man’s teeth. This was—

Oh, God, what the hell was this?

Two puncture wounds. Deep. Spaced about an inch and a half apart.

Just like a vampire bite in the movies.

He’d had fangs. Two-inch-long fangs.

She closed her eyes a moment. Saw that damn precipice again. Then felt her body being shoved right over the edge.

“Still think vampires don’t exist?” Cain asked, his breath feathering over her right ear. Her eyes opened and met his in the mirror.

“They aren’t supposed to be real,” she whispered and felt a desperate pounding in her temples. Would this night never end? Cain’s scent—man, slightly woodsy—wrapped around her. For a moment, she was tempted to lean back against him. To let her body melt into his.

Then he spoke. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a news flash for you. Vampires aren’t the only creatures running around on this earth that ‘aren’t supposed to be real.’”

“I—I can’t deal with this.” She needed to think.
A vampire. A real blood-sucking, creature-of-the-night vampire.
And she’d picked him off the Internet for a date.

Her luck just
sucked.
Strike three for her in the romance department.

Miranda turned and stared up at Cain’s hard features.

Good-looking, yes. Undeniably so. Sexy. With those gleaming eyes and that sinful mouth. But there was power there, too. In the lines of his face. In the strong brow, the square jaw.

His head lowered toward hers.

Her lips parted.

“You didn’t know what he was, did you?”

“No.” A whisper.

“A lamb to the slaughter,” he muttered and his mouth tightened.

“What?”

His hands wrapped around her upper arms. She was pinned between him and the bathroom counter. He stepped closer, bringing his body flush against hers.

His
aroused
body. Miranda sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the heat of his erection pressing against her.

“You have to be more careful.” His body felt good against hers. Right. His voice was soft when he said, “You never know what’s out there, just waiting to take a bite out of you.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “And you are so damn tempting.”

“Cain—”

His lips took hers. The kiss was hot, wild. His tongue pushed past the entrance of her mouth, thrust against hers. She responded instantly, heat flaring through her body as her tongue met his.

He lifted her, settling her along the edge of the countertop, then his hands were on her thighs.

And still he kissed her. Tasted her.

His fingers curled around her thighs. Her sex began to quiver and her mouth became more demanding against his.

He spread her legs with his grip. Settled his hips in the cradle of her body, and Miranda arched toward him, feeling the hard length of his jeans-covered cock against her sex.

Talk about a temptation.

She wondered what it would be like to strip those jeans off him. To yank off her own pants and underwear. Flesh to flesh. Sex to sex.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

Cain ripped his mouth from hers. Stared down at her with blazing eyes. “I can smell your desire.”

What? Was he—

“Your scent is fucking driving me wild….” He kissed her again. Harder. With need and with a stark possession.

Her breasts pushed against his chest. The nipples were tight, pebble-hard. She wanted his hands on them. His mouth.

God, when was the last time she’d been this turned on by a kiss?

Certainly not with either of her two ex-fiancés. Or the handful of men she’d dated in the past year.

She was literally panting now. Squirming against him, her sex creaming.

And all the guy had done was kiss her.

But he was making her need so much. Building a fierce, wild lust within her.

His hands drifted up her thighs. Squeezed the flesh. Caressed. So close to the center of her need. So close. Just a few inches more—

Cain pulled away from her and Miranda could have snarled in frustration.

“You—shit, you don’t want this now.”

Her body did.

“You’ve been through hell tonight.” His hands clenched, and Miranda noticed that his face looked a little different. Tighter. Sharper.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, not now.”

But she’d wanted him to, and she was woman enough to admit it. “You—you don’t have to apologize.” She’d wanted his mouth on her, still did. But with his withdrawal, that damn sanity—and its friend control—were coming back.

His gaze bored into hers. “There’s something here, between us. Make no mistake about it.”

A nod was her only reply because Miranda didn’t trust herself to speak just then.

“Things aren’t ending here. They’re just starting.” Those golden eyes raked down her body and she saw the lust that flared in his gaze. “And you should know that I always finish what I start.”

Good to know.
Her heart was drumming too hard and way too fast against her chest. Her fingers clamped over the edge of the countertop. The urge to reach out to him was strong, but now wasn’t the time.

Not yet.

“Get some sleep.” He turned toward the door, hesitated. “If you need me—”

Oh, but she did.

“—for anything, I’m just down the hallway.”

He’d be waiting in bed.

She exhaled heavily.

Then he was gone and Miranda was left alone with the hunger he’d stirred within her.

He smelled her as he slept. The sweet, tantalizing scent of female flesh. The rich temptation of her sex’s cream.

He’d had her within his grasp. Moaning. Twisting against him. Breasts close enough to kiss. Sex close enough to touch.

And he’d let her go.

With his eyes still closed, Cain reached out and caught the sheets in his hands. A faint ripping filled the air and he swore, knowing that his claws had slashed the fabric.

But his control was weak. Because
she
was so close. And because despite the performance he’d given earlier, he sure wasn’t a gentleman.

He was much more of a taker and he definitely wanted to take Miranda.

The perfume of honeysuckle and woman grew stronger in the air. Cain tensed.

Then he heard the soft creak of the wooden floor.

His cock, already half-erect, begin to swell in anticipation.

She was coming to him.

He’d tossed and turned for hours thinking of her, caught in a world of fantasies and feverish dreams and
she was coming to him.

His eyes opened. He could see her perfectly even in the darkness of the room. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, clad in one of his oversized white T-shirts. Her legs were bare.

That would make things infinitely easier.

“Cain…” A whisper, the sound hesitant and…afraid?

He sat up slowly, drawing in more of her scent with a deep breath.

“I have to…” A step closer. “I have to know…” More slow movements across the floor.

The bedsheets were around his hips. Hiding his arousal, for the moment.

Cain reached over, flipped on the bedside light. For her benefit, not his.

She blinked, hesitated a moment at the flood of light. Then she inched toward him, stopping at the side of the bed. Her wide eyes gazed down at him. “When you first came into my house, you—you looked different.”

Hell.
He’d known this would come, sooner or later. Cain had just been hoping for much, much later because when she learned the full truth about him, his fantasies would die a quick death.