Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(86)

Tabitha’s eyes went wide with panic. “If he hurts you or won’t stop, I’ll … I’ll hit him with the flashlight. Hard. Really hard.”

She almost told Tabitha if he wouldn’t stop, to run like hell. Oh God, was she putting Tabitha’s life on the line to do something … stupid? Another moan left the vampire’s lips. No, Miranda’s heart told her they were doing the right thing. She had to believe it.

Besides, if the black curse didn’t lift, they could really use another person to help out—someone strong like a vampire.

She moved closer to the crumpled figure. “Shine the light on my hand.” Looking at her hand, she pushed on the fleshy part of the palm until she saw some blood ooze out. Then she dropped on her knees. She tasted fear on her tongue, but put her hand close to the vampire’s mouth.

His eyes popped open. He reached up, grabbed her arm, and latched onto her wrist where her veins were the closest.

“Ouch,” Miranda said as she felt his teeth sink into skin.

“Should I hit him?” Tabitha screamed. “Should I hit him?”

“No!” Miranda stared at the vamp as he drank from her. “Look, buddy, this is just a snack, not a feast, okay? Just a taste until you can heal yourself, got it?”

“Should I hit him?” Tabitha repeated. “Should I hit him now?”

Miranda shook her head. “I’ll give him a little more.”

She counted to ten, started feeling a tad weak, and panicked. She took a deep breath and then said, “Okay, enough.” She tried to pull away but his fingers latched around her arm with a death grip.

“Hey!” Tabitha leaned over and shined the light right into the vamp’s eyes. “She said enough. Let go of her or I swear I’ll put a lump on this side of your head the same size as the one you’ve got right here.” She tapped his forehead with the flashlight.

The vamp blinked, his eyes tightened and grew even brighter, but his hold on her arm suddenly lightened. Slowly, he pulled his teeth out.

Miranda drew her arm back then plopped her butt on the ground. The vamp dropped his head back and closed his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked in a French accent.

Tabitha shined the light right in his eyes, but he kept them closed. “We are badass witches and if you try anything funky, we’ll put some voodoo on your ass and you won’t know what hit you.”

He lifted his head again, opened one eye, and looked at Tabitha. “You don’t look badass.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Miranda said, and when she felt a damp warm stream of blood running down her wrist, she clamped her hand over the bite to stop the bleeding. “Why don’t you tell us who you are?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he answered. “I am Anthony. Anthony Bastin.”

After a few seconds of silence, he opened his eyes and stared at Miranda. “Is it not polite to offer your name when you are given one?”

“Hey, bucko,” Tabitha snapped. “We just saved your life, so how about a little respect.”

His gaze cut to Tabitha. “You are right, I apologize.” He licked his lips and stared at them for a second. “You two are part of the competition. The ones for high priestess, right?”

“How do you know about that?” Miranda asked.

“I work at the auditorium where the competition was being held. Two nights ago, I caught the rogues sneaking around.” His gaze went back to Tabitha. “They overpowered me … and brought me here. Of course, it was five to one. Or the outcome would have been different.”

“Right,” Tabitha said and rolled her eyes.

The vamp stared at her.

“Do you think you can walk?” Miranda asked. “I think we should see if this tunnel leads anywhere.”

He tried to sit up, grunted, and then slumped back. “Give me a few more minutes. The blood will help me heal, but it can take time.”

“Okay, but not too much,” Miranda said and looked up at the heavy metal door that led outside. Outside where their captors were.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said.

In seconds, the vampire’s breathing slowed. “I think he’s asleep,” Tabitha whispered and shifted the light a little closer to see Anthony’s face.

Miranda looked at him. His firm jaw and chiseled features hinted at his French heritage. “We’ll give him five minutes and then we have to move, even if we have to carry him.”

Tabitha eased the orb of light down the masculine torso, highlighting a toned chest and a flat stomach. “You know, he’d be kind of cute if he wasn’t so dirty.”

“Yeah,” Miranda admitted, not that she was the tiniest bit interested. She’d always been drawn more to blonds. Her mind went to Perry. Then it twisted to her younger years and her crush on Shawn.

“Do you think he needs more blood?” Tabitha asked.

“He might,” Miranda said. “I guess I could give him a little more.”

“You’ve already given him some. If he needs more, I’ll … do it.”

Miranda smiled. “That’s generous of you. Are you feeling guilty, or do you think he’s that good-looking?”

Tabitha chuckled. “He is cute. But you shouldn’t talk. You’re in love with a shape-shifter. Everyone knows that shape-shifters are … difficult.”