Allyn and Ransom – 38

 

 "Bedroom?" Ransom asked.

 

"Upstairs."

 

"I could have figured that. But where?"

 

"Allyn!" Miranda appeared at the top of the stairs. She dashed down, her dressing gown flaring out behind her. "You let him get hurt," she said accusingly to Ransom.

 

"I'm fine," Allyn protested.

 

At the same time, Ransom replied, "I'm not sure let is the right word."

 

Miranda shot Ransom a dark look before examining what remained of Allyn's wounds. "I…suppose you are. I mean, other than the fact they're still visible. Get up stairs to bed this minute. Without Mr. Carlyle."

 

"Good gods, Mandi."

 

"I mean it, Allyn. Upstairs now. Ransom can tell me what happened." She eyed Ransom. "Apparently he wasn't involved in the fight."

 

"Actually," Allyn replied, "he's the one who killed Grigore."

 

"Who?"

 

Allyn rubbed his temples. "Grigore. The man, the vampire, who abducted Liam, and the others."

 

Miranda gasped. "You went up against a vampire? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

 

"Calm down, Miranda," Ransom said. "He didn't really have a choice, since Grigore kidnapped him."

 

"And why wasn't I told about this?" Miranda asked. Looking accusingly at Allyn, she said, "You were going out for some fresh air, according to you. When I saw Ransom leave a couple of minutes later…"

 

"You thought the worst," Ransom said dryly.

 

"No. I thought you were frustrated because the guy you were after hadn't shown up and were trying to come up with an alternative way to catch him." She looked wryly at Allyn. "I guess you didn't have to."

 

"Nope. It all happened exactly how we figured it would. Well, other than the vampire part."

 

Ransom nodded. "One totally insane vampire. He—"

 

"You can tell me after Allyn has taken himself up to bed."

 

"Bossy woman," Allyn and Ransom said as one. Allyn kissed Miranda's forehead, then headed upstairs.

 

"Would you like coffee and breakfast?" Miranda asked Ransom, much to his surprise.

 

"Coffee sounds good." He trailed after Miranda as she headed to the kitchen. "Your brother handled himself very well tonight."

 

"Of course he did," she replied proudly. "He may not be as old as you, or have your experience, but he's learned a lot over the years." She paused to tell Mrs. Wilcox all they needed at the moment was coffee. The housekeeper poured a cup for each of them, and they continued on to the breakfast nook.

 

Miranda sat while Ransom went to one of the windows. He studied the lush lawn momentarily, shaking his head. "It's still hard to equate this estate, this house, with the man I saw in action last night."

 

"You still don't approve of our lifestyle."

 

"It has nothing to do with approval. I understand why you live the way you do. It is a good cover for what he does." He turned to look at her. "I guess what I thought I knew up here—" he tapped his forehead, "—and what I've seen from him the last few days… I'm still trying to fit the two pieces together, if that makes sense."

 

"Of course it does. For fifty years you've thought of him—if you did think about him—as a wastrel who was wasting his life when he could have been making something of it."

 

"Oh, I thought about him. For a short while there, he was a very important part of my life. Then everything changed. Damn it, Miranda. Why didn't he trust me enough to tell me what he'd planned on doing?"

 

"He was certain you'd try to stop him." She gazed seriously at him. "What he does is very important—to him and to the wolves he saves. But he was well aware it could be dangerous. You'd have known that too and…" She spread her hands.

 

"My over protectiveness would have kicked in, big time. I understand."

 

"Do you think what the two of you had going on between you would have survived if it had?"

 

Ransom smiled ruefully. "No more than it did because he seemed to have become the playboy of the century. I guess either way we were destined not to be together at that point."

 

"And now?"

 

"Things have changed. I've changed. Of course, it took you to make me see the error of my ways, when it comes to him."

 

"Now the big question. Do you—?"

 

"Care about him? Very much so. I think you know that already."

 

Miranda grinned. "I do. I just wanted to hear you say it."

 

"Sneaky."

 

"Protective when it comes to Allyn—just like you."

 

Ransom smiled, setting his untouched coffee down on the table. "He does seem to bring that out in people, I think. All right. I'm beyond beat."

 

"You never told me what happened last night."

 

"Ask Allyn when he gets up. I'm going home and get some well-earned sleep. Well, after I fill in everyone I work with about what happened—well edited."

 

"Yeah. Telling them Grigore was a vampire might make them wonder if you've lost the last of your marbles."

 

"No kidding." That reminded him, as he left the house, he had to call the cops in Grigore's district to tell them about the graves. And figure out how to explain why I know about them. That should be interesting.