Midnight Hour (Shadow Falls: After Dark #4)(69)

him.

“Look,” Perry continued. “As far as I know there’s no one to take the baby. The babysitter refused to keep him. Tell Burnett to please not

put him in foster care. Find him a home.” He motioned to the fence. “It’s loose at the bottom. Come out then take the baby around to the

front.”

“Why…” Right then something else didn’t make sense. “Why don’t you take the baby to Holiday?”

“Burnett won’t let me leave again. I have a meeting with Jax this morning. I’m hoping I’ll get answers that’ll help find your sister. Then

I can take care of the piece of shit who killed this baby’s mama.”

“But…”

“Please, come get the baby. I’d come in, but Burnett would be here in seconds.”

Her brain snatched the words, trying to understand but … One thought eked out. “The alarm works both ways. Burnett will know—”

“Yeah, but because it’s close to a full moon he’ll think it’s a were. He accepts they refuse to be caged up this close to a full moon. This

is where they leave from. Pleeease. I’m running out of time.”

She knelt, pulled up the fence, and crawled under it. The moist, gritty dirt, somehow hotter than the air, clung to her palms. Standing, wiping

her hands on her pajama bottoms, she got a close-up view of the anguish in Perry’s eyes.

“Perry, if he doesn’t want you going it’s because it’s too dangerous.”

“I know, but I have to do this.”

Fear for his safety and anger that he cared so little about it, curled her toes in her house shoes and pushed Mickey’s face into the dirt.

“What if he’s right?”

Perry held the baby out to her. “Miranda, I’m begging you. I need someone to believe in me right now. No, not just someone. I need you to

believe in me.”

He moved the baby closer. Using her casted limb, she cradled the infant in the crook of her arm. When it wiggled, she pulled it closer. It felt

warm. But the air around them seemed to get colder.

She looked up at Perry. “I do believe in you, but … if something happened to you, I’d die.”

“Nothing’s going to happen! Part of the reason I’m doing this is to make sure you don’t die.” He ducked his head down and kissed her. A

fast, but emotionally charged kiss.

Tears filled her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” He ran a finger over her lips, still wet from his kiss. “Damn, I miss kissing you.” He kissed her again, this one just as

sweet. Just as short. Just as powerful.

“I gotta go.” He morphed into his favorite prehistoric bird. His wings whooshed open, the breadth of their span more than six feet. Before

she knew what he meant to do, he’d wrapped her and the infant in a warm hug. His feathers were soft as down and felt like a security blanket.

A place nothing bad or evil could ever touch her.

It ended before Miranda wanted it to. His wings whooshed open. He bounced up into the air, and just before he took flight he said, “I’ll

watch you until you’re in the gate. I love you. And … I love your Batwoman pajamas.”

The baby started to cry again and so did her heart. She held the infant close and watched Perry’s ascent. Tears filled her eyes. “I love you,

too,” she whispered. And never until right now had she known it to be truer.

She was the gooey icing stuck to a wafer who bore the name Perry Gomez.

And that was wrong. Wrong to feel this way about one side of the cookie when you had the other side thinking you felt that way about him. Now

all she had to figure out was how to break this news to Shawn without breaking his heart.

Yet, as high as this matter marked on her problem card, she took a second to reevaluate. The little problem she held in her arms took top

priority.

How the hell was she going to explain the baby to Holiday and the quick-to-anger vampire?

She neared the gate. She looked up and saw the skyscape made up of blue, purple, and streaks of orange. In the forefront was a majestic

creature soaring on the paint strokes of the sunrise.

She hesitated, giving him time to get away before she walked up to the gate. Pulling the child and his loose baby blanket closer, she looked at

the camera, waiting for the ding of the gate to open.

She’d barely gotten a foot past the gate when the office door shot open.

Burnett blasted off the porch, becoming nothing but a blur until he stopped in front of her. Feet slightly apart, a frown on his lips, his eyes

bright, he stared at her. “What are you…?”

The baby cried. The cold got colder. Burnett gaped at the wiggling infant.

“What the hell’s going on, Miranda?”

Footsteps sounded behind them. Holiday stopped beside her husband, her eyes widened.

“Who is she?” Holiday’s words created a cloud of steam that hung in the air.

“I think it’s a he?” Miranda pulled the blanket around the baby.

Holiday glanced at the child. “No, not the baby,” she said. “The ghost?”