Reaper's Vow by Sarah McCarty Page B

Miranda’s door, bracing his rifle against the side so it’d be protected from the rain by the overhang. He sat down on the rock stoop and pulled his hat down over his brow. Whatever the ass had in mind for Miranda, it wasn’t gonna happen tonight.
    Cole sat there with the rain falling around him, the chill nipping at his skin, and focused most of his energy on the women. When not terrified, Miranda’s energy was soft and sweet, sliding over his with a velvet kiss. He loved the way she felt. So seductively feminine, so hotly sexual. He knew he should pull back, but that velvet touch was stronger than steel and he needed . . . more. Much more.
    The soft strains of a lullaby crept through the door. Cole closed his eyes and listened. Miranda had a high, sweet voice, pure on some notes, raspy on others. Sex wrapped up in sound. And she was only singing a lullaby. What would that voice do to him if she sang a love song?
    Cole shook his head, flexed his fingers, and forced himself to pull back, feeling as if he peeled layers off his insides as he did. Miranda made him feel exposed and vulnerable with a need that had nothing to do with sex. For the first time since he’d set out after Addy, he felt truly threatened.
    Fuck.

6
    He was out there. Miranda could feel Cole in the vibration of the thunder, within the flashes of lightning. Her pulse skittered, and her nipples hardened. He felt like a threat. Like a promise. Reaching under the mattress, she touched the handle of her husband Michael’s sword. It didn’t give her the peace she expected. Cole Cameron was a potent force. And he drew her. That was so dangerous.
    She looked to where Wendy slept, a frown pleating her brow. Miranda wanted to reach over and smooth that frown away. Six was too young to have worries that haunted your sleep. She hadn’t wanted this life for herself, definitely not for her daughter, but life wasn’t big on choices. It certainly hadn’t offered her any.
    Memories pushed at her mind. Snarls leaping out of the darkness, tearing her from her husband’s arms, tearing at her skin, tearing her from her hopes and dreams. And now they were trying to tear at her daughter. Leaning over, she pulled the covers up over Wendy’s shoulders and kissed her hair.
    â€œI won’t let them have you, baby. I promise you.” She just wouldn’t. And as hard as it was to accept, keeping that promise was going to require a strong man to keep the predators away from her daughter. But it was also going to take a man Miranda could control. Because when she came of age, Wendy was going to have options. No one was going to force her into a life she didn’t want.
    Rain lashed the windows. Lightning crackled in an earsplitting cacophony. Miranda jumped. The energy she felt from Cole stayed steady. She clung to it. Just because it felt good—even for a second—to have something to anchor her panic.
    Wendy stirred. “Shhh, baby. Everything is fine. You’re fine.”
    With a murmur Wendy settled. So sweet and innocent to believe Miranda saying something made it so. Miranda remembered Clark drawing back his fist. The helpless moment when she’d known she couldn’t get to her daughter in time. And the overwhelming relief when Cole had stepped in. Another burst of wind and rain pounded the roof. Her conscience slammed her with equal force. Whoever he was, Cole had saved her baby, and she’d repaid him by letting him sit out in a storm getting soaked.
    She might be Reaper now, but she’d been raised better. Grabbing her shawl to wrap around her nightgown, she stood and headed for the door.
    Being raised right didn’t make it any easier to open that door. There was something about Cole Cameron that both drew her and scared her. As if there was more to him than met the eye. She didn’t like secrets. She lifted the bar. It felt so much heavier than it was. As if lifting that bar