More laughter. Too close.

Now she knew his plan. Wished she’d figured it out sooner. A setup. For her, not him. Paul had just wanted to get her alone.

And now he had.

Her fingers fumbled with the lock. Managed to twist the deadbolt. She jerked open the door, sprang forward—

He tackled her, his body slamming into hers and knocking her off the back porch and onto the ground with a thud.

Another scream burst from her lips. One full of rage and fear.

She squirmed beneath him, managed to turn toward him, and her nails went straight for his eyes.

He pulled back, and she gouged deep lines into his face, feeling satisfaction well in her at the sight of his bloodied skin.

“Like that, do you?” He licked his lips, catching a drop of blood that had trickled onto his mouth. “I thought you might.” Then he brought his mouth crashing down on hers.

She bit him as hard as she could.

His head lifted and he laughed. “Oh, you’ll do just fine.”

“Help!” Another full-on claw with her nails. Then a hard punch with her fist.

He didn’t even flinch.

Paul shifted slightly, and the weight of his body pinned her torso to the earth. The starlit sky was over them, the night seemed incredibly still in that moment, and—

She didn’t want to die.

Her fist thrust up for another punch, right along that angular jaw of his.

Miranda didn’t make contact. He caught her hands, the right one, then the left. Then he jerked her hands over her head and pinned them in the dirt.

“I planned to kill you.” His breath was hot and rancid on her face. His eyes were as dark as the night. “That first time, I was going to drain your body dry.”

His hold was so tight the bones in her wrists ground together.

Sam. He was coming. If she could just hold the vampire off, he’d be there. With his gun.

“Dying is easy.” His voice was soft. Deadly soft. Goosebumps rose on her flesh. “I know. Flash of pain. Fear. Then it’s over.”

He smiled again, fangs bared. “It’s not going to be that easy for you.” His nostrils flared, and the smile tightened on his face. “I can smell that damn animal all over you.”

“Then get the fuck off me and you won’t have to!” she snarled, bucking beneath him.

“Ah, but this is going to be fun.” He lowered his mouth to her neck. When his teeth raked her flesh, she let out a yell of rage and tried to jerk away.

“Relax.” The whisper of a lover, from the mouth of the devil. “I’ve decided not to kill you.”

Her breath caught and wild hope flared in her chest.

He pressed a kiss to her neck. She shuddered.

His head lifted and his eyes met hers. “Well, I guess you will be dead,but you won’t stay that way. Not for long.”

Oh, God. No.

“Tell me, Miranda, do you think your animal will still want you when you become the thing he hates most on earth?”

Something wasn’t right. Cain gazed across the street at Mancini’s Grill, aware of a sense of unease slowly trickling up his spine. A reservation had been made in the vamp’s name, so Roberts should be showing up soon.

And walking straight into their trap.

But Cain didn’t like the waiting. Didn’t like not having Miranda in his sights.

Didn’t like the feeling in his gut that things were slipping out of his control.

His cell phone vibrated with a silent ring. Never taking his gaze off the restaurant, he flipped open the phone, put it to his left ear. “Lawson.”

Static crackled over the line. “Guards . . . hurt.”

His body went stone-hard in an instant. “Sam?” he barked. “Sam, is that you?” The connection was piss-poor, as it usually was in Cherryville.

“Find . . . Mir . . . an. . . .” The line cut off.

Understanding dawned too late.

It was one hell of a fine trap all right, but not for the vampire.

For Miranda.

He took off at a run, the beast growling and the man fighting back his fear and rage.

Sam cursed and threw down his phone. The thing had never worked for shit, and he would be in his civilian car—with no damn police radio. He felt for the pulse on Deputy Forest’s neck. Weak, thready. Just like Dunn’s.

The men had been taken down, hard.

But they were still alive. Was Miranda? God, she’d better be.

The flickering porch light shone down on the officers. Their radios and phones had been smashed to pieces.

Taking a deep breath, Sam rose. He’d go inside, find Miranda, and they’d call an ambulance and some serious backup.

He wanted to shout out to her, but he knew better. Roberts, because he knew that freak was behind this, had to be around somewhere and he sure didn’t want to give away his location to the killer.

His gun was in his right hand. His left hand reached for the handle of the door. Unlocked. He glanced down, saw the faint scratch marks near the keyhole.

A scream pierced the night then. A scream that had him turning and running with his heart in his throat and his fingers tightening around his gun.

A woman’s scream. His mom had screamed like that. Just before his asshole father had stopped her screams forever.

He rounded the corner of the house, gun up and ready, and found a man pinning Miranda to the ground.

“Sheriff’s Department!” he shouted, and the guy’s head jerked toward him. “Get the hell away from the woman, now!”