Midnight Hour (Shadow Falls: After Dark #4)(66)

Miranda, I need some help.

Her breath caught when she realized she’d dreamed, or somehow heard, those same words.

She typed in. What’s wrong?

The three dots appeared. Then his text flashed across the screen.

Meet me at our spot by creek. The one beside the fence. Alone … if possible.

Alone? Right. As soon as Miranda got up, Della would be asking questions. Heck, the beep of the text probably already roused her.

Then Miranda recalled the vamp had said she had shadowing duty. She noted the time. Della should’ve already left.

If Kylie wasn’t in vampire mode, with sensitive hearing, Miranda might …

Curiosity almost had her typing questions back to Perry, but the urgency she sensed had her typing in two letters: ok.

Easing out of bed, she decided changing clothes might be too noisy. So holding her phone, wearing her Batwoman pj’s, and her Mickey Mouse

house slippers, she eased out of her room, out of her cabin, and into the darkness.

Once away from the cabin, worry almost choking her, she started speed walking as fast as her Mickeys could go.

The Texas morning air felt fresher, but still muggy. A small drop of sweat eased down between her breasts.

Before entering the cove of woods, she saw the moon, a sliver from being full, hanging low. In the eastern sky, the slow-to-rise sun had

painted strips of color on the horizon.

It wasn’t until she felt the darkness of the trees close in on her that Miranda stopped and thought about being alone.

Or rather about not being alone. She felt … watched.

She searched the dark shadows for the armadillo. No gold eyes peered back at her.

She paused. All she could hear was her heartbeat swishing in her ears. Silence was wrong. The night always sang, unless something startled it.

Or someone.

Looking at the trees surrounding her, she got the eeriest sensation as if they’d leaned closer.

What if … this wasn’t Perry? But a trick? She pulled her phone up to make sure it had really been Perry’s number sending the text.

It was.

Of course, just because it was his phone, didn’t mean it was him texting. In the corner of her eye, she saw a tree branch dip down.

Sure it was only paranoia. She kept walking, ignoring the feeling that the trees were reaching for her.

Right then her mind flashed the scary image from earlier. The girl. Dead.

Then she heard it. A cry.

Not too loud.

Not too low.

But a profound sound that echoed with such emotional cadence that even the leaves on the trees seemed to quake.

Following the sound, came a breeze. Cold. Ghostly cold.

*

The sun hadn’t risen when Shawn walked into the hospital. He’d stayed out past midnight trying to find anyone who’d witnessed the shooting.

And failed.

Now, with less than two hours of sleep, he felt empty. Empty from all but the raw guilt over Lily. First he’d allowed her to be zapped by the

cuffs, then he’d made her target practice for some * by stopping at the drugstore.

He’d made mistakes in the past, but never any that resulted in real harm to an innocent. Anger coursing through his muscles, he gripped

tighter on the stems of the semi-wilted flowers he’d picked up for her last night. Then Burnett had given him assignments. When he’d finally

gotten home last night, he’d almost tossed them away, but guilt had him sticking them into a jelly jar with water. Guilt also had him calling

the hospital to check on her.

She’d skated through surgery. Doctors expected a full recovery. Not that Shawn doubted it. She was too much of a spitfire to stay down.

Chances were that spitfire held him responsible. Chances were he was about to get an earful.

He deserved it, but God, he hated listening to angry women. Which was one reason he liked Miranda. She seldom got mad. Not that she was a

pushover, but she held her temper in check.

Stepping out of the elevator, a few nurses moved around the dimly lit floor. He spotted Chase Tallman talking to someone in a waiting room.

Chase acknowledged him with a nod, but Shawn kept walking. He stopped right in front of her door, suddenly concerned. Just because he couldn’t

sleep, didn’t mean Lily shouldn’t.

The door swung open and a nurse walked out. Startled, she glanced down the hall to the waiting room.

“Have … have you been cleared to enter?” she asked. “The last time I allowed someone inside I was given hell by someone else wearing a

black suit.”

“I’m FRU.” He showed her his badge.

She glanced at his wilted bouquet. “Nice,” the nurse said.

Shawn nodded, half ashamed of the droopy peace offering. “Is she awake?”

“Yes. I just gave her another injection for the pain. Shoulder surgery is the worst.”

He grimaced. The nurse left, leaving the door open. Her footsteps echoed in the sleepy-morning ambience of the hospital.

Inhaling, preparing himself for an ass-chewing from a pissed-off girl in pain, he walked into the room.

Her eyes were closed. He let himself study her. And like the first time he’d seen her in the jewelry store, he noted how pretty she was. She

was … feminine without being fancy, pretty without being gorgeous. He stood there, unsure if he shouldn’t leave his peace offering and go.