The vampire spun around, caught the limb with one hand. “Dammit, bitch, do you want your turn already?” Blood stained his teeth. His blood. Sam’s.

He shoved Sam back against the wall and she heard the sickening thud of his head connecting with the Sheetrock.

“Leave him alone.”

Paul shrugged. Sam’s body slid to the floor. “Don’t like the taste of men, anyway.”

Fear had dried her mouth. She could see the blood trickling from the wounds on Paul’s chest, soaking his shirt, but the vamp seemed just as strong as before.

So damn bad for her.

She grabbed a lamp and threw it at his head.

He ducked, made a faint tsking sound. “I’m getting real tired of your shit, Miranda.”

It wasn’t shit. “This is my life, asshole!”

“And I’m going to let you live forever.” His eyes were so black. Soulless. “You should thank me. I’ve given no other this chance.”

Paul was stalking her as he spoke. Mirroring each step she took. “I’m not thanking you for killing me!”

“Death is brief. A bare moment when you’ll see heaven or hell and know that it has to wait.”

A moan slipped from Sam’s lips. Her head jerked toward him, and Paul struck. He grabbed her, pulling her tightly against him, drenching her clothes with his blood. His hand tangled in her hair, and he used his painful grip to yank back her head and bare her throat.

“We’ll see if he wants you now,” he rasped and his teeth sank into her neck.

She kicked him in the groin as a white-hot agony lanced her. Miranda twisted. Cursed. Scratched. Punched as hard as she could.

But he wasn’t letting go this time. Paul drank deeply, and her body began to sway. Her hands dropped away from him. He was taking too much. Black lights danced before her eyes.

And the furious snarl of a jaguar echoed in her ears.

Paul’s head jerked up, his teeth slicing across her skin. She blinked, looked over his shoulder, and saw a giant black jaguar leap through the broken window.

“No!” Paul spun toward the beast, and Miranda’s knees gave way as she fell to the floor. She hit hard, landing right on her ass.

The jaguar caught Paul in the chest with his claws, digging deep, ripping flesh.

The vampire fought back, swiping with his own claws and managing to dislodge the jaguar with a fierce toss.

The cat rolled in midair. Turned. Landed lightly on his feet. His teeth were bared, ears back, tail down. Then he was lunging toward the vampire.

The vamp tried to run, but the jaguar caught him, locking those deadly teeth around Paul’s leg and yanking him down. Then the cat’s long pink tongue snaked out, rasping over the vamp’s flesh, again and again, and Paul screamed.

A few swipes of that cat’s tongue could peel theflesh right off your hand. Santiago’s warning echoed through her mind. Miranda swallowed and tried to fight the nausea roiling in her belly. She inched toward Sam. Maybe she could find his gun. Then she could help Cain.

Although Cain didn’t particularly look like he needed help. He appeared to be giving the vampire one serious ass-kicking, for which she was damn grateful.

Sam’s lashes fluttered open. “M-Mir . . . an . . . da?”

“It’s all . . . right.” Damn, but her voice sounded nearly as bad as his did. She cleared her throat. Coughed. Felt the strain as she rasped, “C-Cain’s here.”

His bleary eyes darted around the room. “Wh-where?”

The jaguar let out a fierce cry, an unholy, deep, rolling roar of sound that seemed to shake the house.

Right there. And he’s really, really pissed off.

Her head was spinning and Miranda was worried that she’d pass out at any minute.

Not until I know Cain is safe and Paul isn’t a threat. Dammit, I can hold it together! I can!

The jaguar circled the vampire. Paul staggered but held up his claws. “I’m . . . stronger . . . than you,” he managed, panting.

Not from where she stood.

“I’ve . . . got . . . her blood.” He seemed to straighten a bit, and Miranda tensed, worried that Paul was faking weakness in order to lure Cain in closer to him. “And . . . soon, I’ll . . . have her.”

Cain sprang forward.

“Cain!” Her warning came too late.

The vampire leapt aside, raking the jaguar’s back with his claws, then driving them deep into the black fur.

Then Paul was running, jumping through the window and fleeing into the night.

The cat’s muscles tensed, his gaze locked on the window.

Then shot to Miranda.

In those wild, golden eyes, she saw his fury. And his fear.

For her.

“I’m all right,” she whispered because she really couldn’t manage much more than a whisper. “Go! Finish . . . it.” She didn’t want to spend another night fearing an attack from the vampire.

The jaguar’s head moved in the smallest of nods. The bright light shone down on him, and Miranda had one thought as she watched him.

Beautiful.

He was the most beautiful animal she’d ever seen. Dark fur. Powerful muscles. Eyes so wise and mysterious.

She’d thought him completely black the first time she’d seen him. Now, in the light of her home, she could make out the pattern of markings on his body. Large rosettes lined his fur, and the designs encircled smaller dark spots.

Absolutely beautiful.

His claws dug into her carpet. His back legs curled, and he leapt through the broken window, charging off to track the vampire.