Allyn made it from his bed down to the living room around two that afternoon. Physically, he was healed. Mentally, he wasn't quite so certain. Just the idea of what could have happened if Ransom hadn't been there to help stop Grigore frightened him.
I'd be buried in that graveyard—or worse. I didn't make a very good showing of myself I'm afraid.
"Are you sure you should be up already?" Miranda asked, joining him.
"You think I should be lying in bed feeling sorry for myself because I got hurt?" he replied bitterly.
"Not even." She plopped down on the sofa, looking up at him. "Tell me what happened."
"I thought Ransom was going to do that."
"He was beat, so I sent him home."
"Uh-huh." Allyn sat at the other end of the sofa and gave her a general outline of the previous night.
"What a fucking bastard," she spat out when he'd finished. "Even for a vampire."
Allyn chuckled. "I think he was the exception to the rule. At least I hope he was. Since he's the first one I've ever met, I really can't say for certain."
"Are you all right?"
"I will be. I think getting it out—telling you what happened—helped."
She leaned over to hug him. "That's what sisters are for."
He grinned. "You're the only one I have, so I can't say for certain I agree."
"Smart ass. So now what?"
"Umm?"
"Are you and Ransom going to see if you can make things work this time?"
"I sure hope we are. I don't think I have any more deep, dark secrets I have to reveal to him."
"You never had dark ones," she pointed out.
"Okay, that's true."
"Now you need to…" She arched an eyebrow.
"Umm?"
"Call him. Or better yet, go over there."
"I don't know where he lives."
Miranda rolled her eyes, took out her phone and a moment later gave him Ransom's address.
"He told you?"
"No, you nut. There's this thing called the White Pages. So—" she flicked her fingers at him, "—go."
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