“You’re not going to get approval for—”

“I’ll get approval.” Santiago’s lips thinned. “Wish I wouldn’t, but I will.”

Cain grunted and shrugged his powerful shoulders. “All right, now that we all know it’s a new game, this is how it’s going to work.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The rules are simple, really. I hunt, my way. And I won’t stop until this bastard is brought down.”

“You back with us 100 percent, Lawson?” Santiago asked.

“No.” A pause. “I’m with her.”

And he was going to fight a vampire for her, again.

Talk about knowing how to sweep a girl off her feet.

“Miranda knows this guy,” Cain continued. “She lured him out once, and I’d bet a week of your pay, Delaney, that she can lure him again.”

Santiago rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay, then it’s your game, gato grande.”

Miranda blinked. Her Spanish was way rusty, but she was pretty sure the agent had just called Cain a big cat.

Cain smiled. “Then let’s start the hunt.”

Four

She was lying in her bed. The front door had been fully repaired. An FBI agent was sitting in his car outside, and Cain was asleep on her couch.

It was after midnight. Miranda should have been asleep hours ago. But her mind wouldn’t shut down.

Cain was too close.

Her body felt too tight, too hot. She kept thinking about the feel of his lips on hers. The touch of his hands.

Cain was too close.

And not nearly close enough.

Miranda shoved off the covers. Threw her legs over the side of the bed. Enough of this crap. Time to settle things between the two of them.

She turned on her bedside lamp and the glow of the light spilled into the room.

Miranda thought she was being pretty quiet. The thick carpet muffled her steps as she crept down the hallway. She turned the corner and—

“You know, these late-night visits are starting to become a habit for you,” he said from the darkness, his voice a deep growl of sound.

Miranda hesitated. She couldn’t see him. Could barely see anything. She inched forward, found a small lamp, turned it on with a snap.

Cain was on the couch. Hair disheveled, as if he’d run his fingers through the dark locks. Eyes gleaming. Muscled chest bare. There was no sheet over his body as there had been last night. Instead, he wore a pair of black boxers and nothing else.

Miranda gulped. The man looked good. “We, ah, need to talk.” Her sex quivered a bit as she stared at him. Damn good.

One black brow rose. “Is that really why you walked so softly all the way in here? To talk?”

“You could hear me?” He’d said he had good hearing, but she’d tried to be so careful and quiet.

Aslow nod. “Yeah, but more than that . . .” His nostrils flared just a bit. “I could smell you.” He smiled at her, showing a lot of teeth. “And like I said before, baby, you sure you came here to talk?”

I could smell you. Understanding dawned. Cain knew she was aroused. Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t flinch. “I wanted to thank you.”

If possible, the smile widened even more, revealing the curve of his dimple. “Ah, my thank-you kiss. And here I was thinking I wouldn’t be getting another one from you.” His voice flattened as he said, “What with my being a monster and you being such a good little human.”

Okay, he was still pissed. “I shouldn’t have left last night.”

A shrug. And for a second, a flash of—hurt? pain?—appeared in his eyes but vanished when he slowly blinked. “Hey, I’m the big, bad bogeyman. You were smart to run from me.”

No, she hadn’t been. “Shifter.” She said the word softly, testing it.

His smile vanished.

“That’s what the vampire called you.” And just what the hell was a shifter?

“Yeah, well, I guess your date had come up against my kind before.” He held up his hands, and claws, fiercely sharp and long, had replaced his fingernails. “These are usually a pretty good giveaway, as are the teeth.” His lips pulled back to show just a glimpse of fang.

He was trying to scare her. Miranda kept her chin up and took a step forward.

Cain dropped his hands. “Demons can sprout claws, too, but your vamp must have known that—”

“Uh, demons?” Just how many supernatural creatures were there?

“Yeah, demons.” He whistled softly. “Lots of ’em walking the streets. Using glamour to blend in with the humans. And those bastards can get pretty strong, especially the level tens.” A pause. “Not all of the demons are real threats, though. The weak ones, level ones or twos, hell, they can’t cause much damage at all.”

Right. Good to know.

Demons. He’d just told her that demons were real. She shook her head, tried to focus. “How many . . .” She licked her lips, swallowed, and asked, “How many of your kind are out there?” Another tentative step forward. His nostrils widened.

“There are hundreds of thousands of shifters. Men and women who can change into animals. Small. Big. Deadly. Course, then there are the charmers, the djinn, the—”

Her hand lifted. “Charmers?”

“The ones who talk to animals.”

She blinked. “The djinn? Would that be like—what? Genies?”

“Something like that. But it sure takes a hell of a lot more than some old dusty bottle to contain their power.”