red to blue. Maybe her relaxation technique worked on vampires, too.
The thought forced a slightly hysterical laugh out of her. “I defended myself from a werewolf. With a scalpel. I was awesome!” She punched a fist in the air. “I pretended to be terrified—well, that wasn’t so much pretense, I really was terrified—but I pretended to be helpless, and then I ducked under his arm and stabbed him. I was attacked, and I defended myself. I am a superhero!”
The fury stamped on the hardened planes and angles of Bane’s face told her more plainly than words that he definitely didn’t agree.
Screw him. She was freaking Super Ryan, who could battle werewolves with a spare scalpel she just happened to be carrying in her purse. Well, okay, she’d put it carefully into the inside pocket of her purse when she’d stopped at her place, because she was brave but not naÏve, and she’d been willingly going back to a house where vampires lived, but still.
“Super Ryan,” she repeated, and—much to her shock—he started laughing.
A real, actual laugh, filled with amusement, not mockery. He threw back his head and laughed, and she watched him in wonder, touching her neck where he’d bitten her. How did she reconcile the two sides of this man?
This self-proclaimed monster and the man who’d so passionately made love to her?
How can I be falling in love with him?
She must have made a sound when the epiphany smacked her in the face, because Bane stopped laughing and looked at her, still smiling.
“Super Ryan. Yes, you definitely are. To think I asked Meara to protect you. You’re a one-woman fighting machine.”
Warmth from his praise spread through her, which was terrifying, considering what she’d just realized about her feelings for him. Instead of responding, she deflected. She was very good at that.
“It’s nice to hear you laugh. You don’t do that often enough.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I laugh.”
“Yeah, but more in a bwah ha ha kind of way, not real laughter.” She shrugged. “Not a big deal. Just nice to hear it.”
But, as she spoke, his smile faded. “What do I have to laugh about tonight? You and Meara could have been killed by those shifters.” He reached out and gently took her shoulders in his hands. “Worse—far, far worse—I could have killed you.”
A hint of red flared in the centers of his pupils. “I am so sorry, Ryan. I have no excuse for what I did. For what I almost did. I don’t understand why the scent of your blood calls to me so strongly. Maybe—”
“Oh, I get it,” she interrupted. “Tons of vampire novels and movies all combine to tell me that I’m your fated mate.” She put on a movie-trailer announcer voice. “In a world where vampires are real, one brave doctor proves to be the undoing of a gorgeous denizen of the night.”
Then she bowed with a flourish, grinning at Bane when his mouth fell open. Mr. Stone Face didn’t get her humor, evidently.
“Maybe you are my fated mate. You think I’m gorgeous,” he said smugly.
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “Me and everybody else on the planet, probably.”
“Also, denizen of the night? You’re a very strange—”
“If you say human, I’m going to punch you,” she warned him, narrowing her eyes.
“Woman.”
“I get that a lot,” she admitted. “Hey. Since we’re here, let’s stroll around. I love this place. It reminds me of my gran, before…before she died.”
“Is she here?”
“You mean is she buried here? No. She wanted to be cremated.” She blinked back tears.
“I’m sorry.” He held out his hand, and she took it, wondering at the comfort she drew from such a simple touch. “But I meant, is she here? Does her spirit still walk here, to be close to you?”
She gave him a sideways glance and started walking. “Of course, not. I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said automatically, the same denial she’d made so many times since moving to Savannah, where every other person claimed to be a psychic or medium.
But—this time—she froze, realizing that she was denying the existence of ghosts to a vampire. The vampire who was holding her hand.
“I guess I need to rethink that.”
They strolled along in silence for a few minutes, and Ryan found herself calming down, the adrenaline of not one, but two near-death experiences slowly working its way out of her body. She’d experienced the fight-or-flight reaction first-hand tonight and learned which way she’d go when worst came to worst.
In spite of the horror she still felt