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Sam jumped forward, gun ready. He fired.

Paul attacked. He was on Sam in less than two seconds. “I don’t fucking like getting shot!” Blood covered Paul’s chest. Dripped from his mouth. Paul grabbed Sam’s right wrist and twisted. The gun dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Miranda grabbed the broken tree limb she’d propped next to the couch. Yes, she’d absolutely brought her weapon inside with her.

Paul drove his teeth into Sam’s throat.

“No!” She swung the limb straight at Paul’s back, hitting as hard as she could. Again and again and⁠—

The vampire spun around. He caught the limb with one hand. He broke it with that one hand and dropped the pieces to the floor. “Dammit, bitch, do you want your turn already?” Blood stained his teeth. His blood. Sam’s.

Paul shoved Sam back against the wall and she heard the sickening thud of Sam’s head connecting with the Sheetrock.

“Leave him alone!” she yelled.

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 very bad for her.

She grabbed a lamp and threw it at his head.

He ducked even as he 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 snapped toward him, and Paul struck. He grabbed her, pulling her tightly against him, and drenching her clothes with his blood. His hand tangled in her hair as he used his painful grip to yank back her head and bare her throat.

“We’ll see if he wants you now,” he rasped right before 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 whipped up. His teeth pulled away from her skin. She blinked, looked over his shoulder, and saw a giant black jaguar leap through the broken window of her home.

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

The jaguar caught Paul in the chest with his claws, digging deep,. Ripping into flesh and muscle.

The vampire fought back. Paul swiped with his own claws and managed 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. 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 incredibly grateful.

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

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