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 ground. 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?”

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—

“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 forSam 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.

Cain rushed after him, only to be brought up short when Sam brandished his gun and yelled, “Freeze, asshole!” Then he turned to the group of 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!”

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 knocked in her door.

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. He’s the one who—who”—bit—“attacked me.”

Sam swore and lowered his gun.

“You’re not gonna catch him,” Cain muttered, dropping 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, that gaze would dart away.

The lady was afraid of him. Figured.

But he hadn’t been the man trying to kill her. Shit. He’d saved her life. Didn’t he at least merit some kind of hot-and-heavy thank-you kiss for that?

Ah, Miranda Shaw. The sexy lady next door who’d brought him a dozen cookies when he’d moved in beside her. The computer teacher at the local high school. The teacher with the long, slender legs. With the softly curving breasts and the mouth that he ached to taste.