Immortal Danger. Cynthia Eden
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His fingers locked around her waist, and he pulled her tight against him so that he could feel her nipples pressing into his chest.
Her tongue met his. Just as hungry. Just as wild.
Mistake. The word blasted through the growing fog of lust in his mind. Tasting the vampire had been a serious mistake.
Because now he wanted more. A hell of a lot more.
Fuck, he was so screwed.
Fighting his instincts, struggling for control, Adam managed to lift his head and step away from her. Her scent, roses and aroused woman, tickled his nose and made his cock jerk.
Maya’s lips were still parted. She swallowed, staring up at him.
He figured she was about to rip him a new one, but she stared at him, looking a little lost.
And damn if he didn’t want to put his arms around her and just hold the woman.
So. Screwed.
Then that chin of hers shot into the air and her index finger jabbed into his chest. “I don’t remember asking to be kissed, Slick.” She barred those fangs. “Try that again and you might just get bit.”
His breath expelled in a hard rush. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Because he sure as hell planned to try that again. That, and a whole lot more.
She frowned at him, then straightened her shoulders and stalked toward the bike. For a moment, he admired the sway of her ass in those jeans.
The woman knew how to move.
He followed her slowly back to the waiting bike. Maya glanced over her shoulder, not to look at him, but to stare at the glowing lights of the gallery.
Her lips curved down, just the tiniest bit.
He balled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to touch those lips. Not again. Not yet. Adam cleared his throat, and tried to figure out how to get back on neutral ground and away from his building lust. He looked toward the gallery, saw the outline of a tall woman in black gazing out of the window. Staring at him.
Huh. She’d been watching them.
He glanced back at Maya. “How’d you meet her?” And just what was going on between them?
Maya turned toward the motorcycle. “I found her in the middle of a gang war.”
Not the answer he’d been expecting.
“One of the assholes had a knife at her throat. She was up against the wall, bleeding, not making a damn sound. And he was laughing.”
He studied her profile. Heard the anger in her voice. “What’d you do?”
She shot a hard stare toward him. “I was still a cop back then. I told him to drop his weapon. To stand down.”
“Did he?”
“Hell, no. He came at me, blade flying.”
His stomach knotted. When she’d been a cop, she’d been human.
Humans were so weak.
They died too easily.
A slow smile spread across her lips. “Then I beat the hell out of him. Necessary force, you know.”
He should have known. Adam shook his head and grabbed the black helmet. “So your friend’s pissed because you saved her life?” She was still watching them. He could feel her stare.
“Nah, she’s pissed because I’m a vampire. Josette was fine when I was human, but when I changed—” A shrug. “Let’s just say her family doesn’t have the best track record with supernaturals.”
The woman, Josette, had power. He’d felt the lick of her magic in the air. She wasn’t strong. But something had been there.
She’d known he wasn’t human.
“Josie’s mom was killed by a vampire. So she pretty much thinks we’re all bloodsucking bastards or bitches.”
Ah, well, no wonder the woman hadn’t greeted them warmly. “Will this Marie have the same feelings? Will she talk to you?”
“Yeah, Marie’ll talk.”
And she’d better have something interesting to say. The news that Nassor didn’t yet have Cammie had thrown him and made a rush of excitement leap in his blood. If they could find her before he awoke—
But he couldn’t hope yet. Maya had said that she could track the vampires who’d taken Cammie. So far, the only thing she’d done was take him to an art gallery.
He hoped her next stop proved more helpful.
It had better.
“Josie’s turning away from the old ways,” Maya said, climbing onto the bike. “She’s seen too much darkness in her life, and now she wants to try to pretend it doesn’t exist—that things like me don’t exist.”
Maya wasn’t a thing. He frowned, holding the helmet. What did she mean about the old ways?
“The lady tends to get pissed off when she’s reminded that things on Earth aren’t all caviar parties and cocktail dresses.” The cycle’s engine roared to life. “No matter how much she might wish they were.”
“Sometimes people need their illusions.” That was why so many refused to accept the reality of demons. Vampires.
“Guess they do.”
Adam climbed onto the motorcycle behind her, his body stiff. He was getting rather tired of being her tag-along. It wasn’t a position he was used to, but he knew he had to play the role for now.
But later…
“So why is it so important to find Marie?” He had to shout over the roar of the bike.
Maya laughed. He could barely hear the soft sound and her equally soft reply. “You’ll see, Slick. You’ll see.”
He clenched his teeth. The lady could only try his patience so far. Adam wrapped his arms around her waist, holding on tight. His cock pressed hard against her perfect ass, a deliberate move on his part. He was still horny as hell, and feeling her ass against him, holding her to his chest, well, it was the closest thing to relief he was going to get.
He had to suffer the indignity of riding behind her.
But at least he got the benefit of her soft body.
And when the ride was long, he sure as hell did enjoy her.
Maya had no trouble finding 208 Mythlin Street. The bike bounced down the old pothole-filled road. Drove past the ramshackle buildings. Stopped at the two-story brick house that was nearly hidden by twisted trees.
Maya parked her bike and they stepped onto the broken sidewalk. It wasn’t quite midnight, but the yard was full of people. Men, women. All dressed in white.
Five tall, muscled men with skin a deep brown and bodies humming with tension, immediately walked toward them.
Maya raised her hand. “I’m here to see the Mambo.”
Mambo.
The word was familiar to him. He struggled, trying to remember where he’d heard it before.
The men looked back toward the house. Silence stretched across the yard.
“Maya.” A whisper. Could have been the wind. Could have been a woman’s voice. Adam wasn’t sure, but the men stepped back, eased into the shadows.
He stared at the house then. It wasn’t like the others on the street. No disrepair. No neglect. Strong bricks. Long, wraparound porch. White windows open to the night.
The house didn’t belong on this road.
There was something off about the place.