Midnight Hour (Shadow Falls: After Dark #4)(56)

“Care?” she asked.

“Perry?”

“Of course.” She sensed he was talking about … romance. But on second thought, no, not Burnett.

“It’s none of my business, but…” He reached back and squeezed the back of his neck. “I know Perry hurt you when he left. My wife reminds

me that he did it to you twice. She’s also said that if it had been anyone else, I’d kick you for giving him another chance, but…” He

inhaled again. “He’s not just anyone else.”

Miranda realized that Burnett might not care about romance, but he did care about Perry.

She recalled thinking Burnett wasn’t all that happy about her seeing Shawn, but when he never spoke up she just assumed she’d imagined it.

Burnett scuffed his feet on the gravel, reminding her of Perry’s nervous habit. Of course, Burnett had probably influenced Perry during their

time in the foster home. She’d always known that Perry carried a soft spot for Burnett. She knew Burnett felt the same, but she’d never seen

it more than right now.

The vampire looked down and then up. “Sometimes, when you don’t have a great home life, it makes you feel … like damaged goods. Both times

Perry screwed up, it was never about you. It was about him.”

“I kind of know that,” she said. What I don’t know is … what’s stopping him from doing it again?

*

Perry walked into the bar. The lighting was low, the music live. The walls shook from the beat and so did his eardrums. Thankfully the bar

catered mostly to supernaturals so the bouncer checked out his forehead and didn’t bother to check his ID.

Standing a few feet inside, he waited for his eyes to adjust. Because he’d lived in the shadows of the human world most of his life, the bar

scene still felt awkward, and a little dangerous.

The smell of alcohol—malty beer, vinegar-scented wine, and fruity drinks—scented the air. He’d tried beer a few times, and learned that

alcohol inhibited his ability to control his shifts. Considering he struggled with this stone sober, it was a good thing he hadn’t acquired a

taste for the stuff.

If he needed a mood enhancer, he’d take to flying. The only thing that topped flying was being with Miranda. Just the time he’d spent with

her today had sent his mood soaring.

To his right was the dance floor. Couples moved, bumped and grinded to the music. Immediately, he recalled Miranda teaching him to dance. The

memory of her laughing as he’d copied her moves brought on a smile. “Don’t try to imitate me, listen to the beat and move.”

“But I’m good at imitating. Not so good at being original.”

“Yeah, but the way you do it, it looks … too sexy.” She’d giggled.

“Then I must be doing it right,” he’d teased, “because you look hot doing it, too.”

Yup, emulating was both a gift and a curse of being a shape-shifter. Because when you could be anything, sometimes you had trouble just being

yourself. Or maybe it wasn’t something all shape-shifters dealt with, maybe it had something to do with how he was raised, or not raised.

He took a few more steps inside; the band ended their music, said their good-byes, and promoted the sale of their CDs out front. Perry

continued to check out the patrons, most were supernatural. He spotted his mom walking out of the bathroom. Her blond hair hung in soft waves

around her shoulders. The tight red dress, better suited for a woman ten years younger, was low on the top and short on the bottom.

Lifting his left shoulder, he rubbed it against the side of his neck, as if to wipe off the feeling being around his mom brought on. There wasn

’t one memory that caused it. It was all of them. Being a shape-shifter, his mind retained memories from as young as a year old.

She hadn’t hit him. He hadn’t gone hungry.

She just … hadn’t wanted him—funny how someone that young could pick up on that. True, considering his ability to shift at that early age,

he’d been a pretty big undertaking. But—

“Perry!” someone called out. His father stood next to a table occupied by two other men. As Perry drew closer, he noticed the empty glasses

littering their table.

Perry hadn’t planned on coming here. Yet, now knowing that Jax could be mixed up with what happened to Miranda and her sister made him even

that more determined. It wasn’t just about him or justice anymore, it was about protecting the girl he loved.

For that, he’d deal with his mom.

“There’s my son,” his mom said, arriving at the table the same time he did. She hugged him. Her embrace felt plastic. Who the hell was she

trying to impress? She pulled back. “Your dad said you’ve got a girlfriend!”

“Dad talks too much,” Perry said.

His mom touched her dad’s elbow. “Paul, go get your son a whiskey. He’s a man now.”

“I don’t want—”

“Sure you do.” She motioned for his father to go. He didn’t argue. He never did. Not even when she’d told him to take their son to the mall

and leave him there.

His mom looked back at the two guys sharing the table. “Meet our new friends. Charles and Mark, this is my oh-so-powerful son.” The two men