Midnight Hour (Shadow Falls: After Dark #4)(93)

he’d do anything and everything to be the person she deserved.

She looked up at him. “I wish I had some ice cream to go with the birthday cake.”

“Huh?” he asked.

“Every time I’m around you lately, I smell birthday cake.”

“I smell like birthday cake?”

“No, the air smells like it. It’s a happy smell. But it makes me want ice cream.”

“Do you have some in the fridge? I’ll get it for you.”

“We’re out.”

“Zap us some,” he said.

“No, I’m zapped out.”

“You want me to go to the store?”

“No.” She curled up against him again. “I like this better than ice cream.”

A while later, looking exhausted, she fell asleep. Her tattoos faded, but then she’d snuggle a little closer and they’d come back. He couldn

’t help but wonder if it was them being close that brought them on. He hoped that was a good thing.

He quickly realized this wasn’t the most comfortable position for his arm. Yet afraid if he moved he’d wake her, he didn’t move. He didn’t

sleep, either. He didn’t want to miss a second of this.





Chapter Twenty-seven

“Who’s Peter?”

Della’s voice stirred Miranda from a dead sleep. She pushed up, blinking. Why was she on the sofa?

Everything came back. Everything made sense. Except Della’s question.

“Huh?” she asked.

“There’s a note from a Peter?”

Miranda focused on the vampire. Sun poured through the window, telling Miranda she’d slept late. Then she noted the paper Della held out.

Peter?

“You’re not supposed to read other people’s notes.” Sitting up, she snatched it.

“It doesn’t have your name on it.”

Miranda read the note.

I love you more than ice cream. More than flying. And you know how much I love that.

Peter.

Miranda smiled and put the note against her chest.

The vampire made a funny face. “I feel a sappy moment coming on and we have no time for sap. Get your ass up and ready. I gotta teach you to

punch somebody’s lights out. Come on. Chop. Chop.”

“Can I pee first?” Miranda popped up.

“Full stream,” Della snapped. “Because after I teach you to kick ass, we’re gonna hit the books.”

“Where’s Kylie?”

“Sleeping in. She stayed out all night howling at the moon and getting fleas.”

Ten minutes and a granola bar later, they were out by the lake. The morning sun sparkled off the water. A few cotton-like clouds hung above.

The day seemed too beautiful to fight.

Her thoughts shot to Tabitha, and Miranda accepted that bad crap happened on beautiful days. She needed to learn to fight.

A breeze brushed across her skin and rustled the leaves on the trees. Until then, she’d forgotten about her weird obsession with trees. She

looked at them and, oddly, she didn’t feel fear, just her usual appreciation for nature. Maybe she’d gotten over whatever it was.

“Hey, we didn’t come out to enjoy the view,” Della said. “Do you remember how I told you to stand?”

“Yeah,” Miranda copied Della’s fighting stance, with her knees bent slightly for better balance, and her fists held up to protect her face.

It felt unnatural, but Miranda ignored that feeling. She wanted this.

“Here’s another lesson. An attacker will try to hold your hands to restrain you. That’s okay. Your legs are the strongest part of your body.

And if he’s holding your hands, he’s not protecting his boys. Wham him in the balls with your knee, or use the ball of your foot. If his boys

aren’t accessible, kick him in the knee to knock him off balance. And if you’ve got on high heels, use them. A spiky heel is as good as a

knife.”

For the next thirty minutes, Della kept coming at her, and Miranda showed her what she could do. Della helped her perfect her punches and her

kicks, taught her a variety of maneuvers to break someone’s arm or leg, and ways to deflect a blow. After a while, Miranda actually felt

confident.

“If someone grabs you from behind, use your elbow to twist toward them and break their hold, then attack. You have a mean left hook, use it.

If you can’t break their hold, look down and start stomping their foot. Or punch the fine bones in their hand. And don’t be afraid to fight

dirty. Use your teeth if you have to.”

“That sounds painful.” Miranda caught her breath.

“Exactly.”

They danced around in circles for another thirty minutes—Miranda attempting to block Della’s punches and using different techniques to fight

back.

Then Miranda remembered. “Perry knew you two were playing cupid last night.”

“I hope so, or that’d mean he’s dumber than dirt.” Della chuckled.

Miranda lifted her arm to block Della’s punch. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Della stopped throwing punches.

The vamp pulled two waters out of her backpack. “What’s up with the flowers from Shawn?” She handed Miranda a bottle.