Immortal Danger

by Cynthia Eden

  “Dammit, I told you to wait for me.” So many rocks. So much weight. If he were under there, he would have been crushed beyond recognition. At the very least—

  Buried alive.

  She climbed over the bigger rocks, crawling and fighting her way to the back of the room.

  That was where the scent of blood was strongest.

  Don’t be dead. Dammit, Adam, hold on! The cry was in her mind, and soon, blood was streaming down her hands.

  But Maya didn’t stop. She pulled the rocks away, one at a time, scratched through the chunks of sandstone, dug through the rock and grime.

  Hold on.

  Her claws broke. Her fingertips ripped open.

  But she didn’t stop.

  Even though she was very, very afraid of what she’d find at the bottom of that pile.

  Chapter 7

  The sun shone down on him, and he squinted, trying to focus against the light.

  Something hard and tight was around his ribs, squeezing the breath from him.

  Adam moaned, jerked, tried to fight the pressure, but the hold just tightened.

  “Dammit! Would you stop?” A woman’s voice. Annoyed, but…weak. Maya.

  She was okay. She’d made it out of the caverns. He opened his mouth, wanting to talk to her, but a coughing fit sent spasms through his body.

  “Shit, Slick, it’s hard enough moving you in this damn sunlight without you fighting me, now stop struggling!”

  But he wasn’t struggling, not really. He just couldn’t breathe and every part of his body hurt.

  Actually, his legs didn’t hurt.

  He couldn’t feel them.

  But he knew they were dragging against the ground. He could hear the grind of his shoes on the hard earth.

  Maya’s hands were around him, Adam realized. His head cradled against her chest.

  He would have enjoyed that, would have liked the press of her flesh cushioning his head—but he just hurt too fucking much.

  Time seemed to stop as she pulled him through the desert. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the sun. Feeling was starting to return to his legs, sharp pinpricks that quickly turned into knife points of agony.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  What was that sound? He tried to open his eyes again but found that his lashes were too heavy.

  Then his body was shoved, lifted, and pushed back against something soft. A cushion?

  The soft surface moved, easing back so that he was reclining.

  Not a cushion, a car seat. They were in the SUV.

  But they should have been in the tunnels, finding Cammie.

  Cammie.

  “I need you to listen to me, Slick.”

  He tried to turn his head toward her voice. Tried and failed.

  “I don’t know how the hell you’re still breathing, but I’m gonna get you someplace safe, okay?”

  No, they couldn’t leave yet. Not without Cammie.

  “Just hold on for me. Just—”

  “C-Cam…” It was all he could manage. The effort left him shaking with exhaustion.

  Silence. Then, “She wasn’t there. They’d already taken her.”

  He remembered hearing her voice, calling for help. Adam tried to shake his head. They couldn’t leave, not without her.

  “Dammit!” The curse exploded from her. “Fine. Hell. You just better not die on me, you got that?”

  A door slammed.

  Silence.

  Adam stopped fighting the agony that racked his body.

  Don’t die.

  Not a promise he could make right then.

  Her eyes were tearing. No, watering. From the sun. Had to be from the sun.

  How was the man still alive?

  And how much longer would he stay that way?

  Maya spared a glance for her hands as she hurried back over the rough terrain. At least six of her fingers were broken. Dried blood coated her hands, from fingertip to wrist.

  But she’d gotten him out.

  As much as she wanted to run like hell from Blood Rock and the heat of the sun, Adam wasn’t going to let her leave yet.

  Not without Cammie.

  Maya knew Cammie was long gone. She’d found the tape recorder’s broken remains under Adam’s body. One look, and she’d known how the vamps set the trap for Adam.

  No, Cammie wasn’t in the tunnels.

  But maybe she’d find someone else who could help them—and she didn’t really care if that help was given willingly or not.

  “Dammit, settle down in there!” Maya’s voice. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

  Adam jerked at the shout, then heard her snarl, “Yet.”

  He didn’t understand. Why would Maya be threatening to hurt him?

  Were they still in the tunnels? No, the car—

  “It’s okay, Adam.” Her voice was softer now, almost soothing. That didn’t make a bit of sense. When had Maya ever been soothing? Wild. Hot. Sexy. And very often dangerous. But soothing?

  Not his Maya.

  “We’re safe, now. You hear me? Safe.”

  A warm, soft cloth had been pulled over his chest.

  He was laying down, Adam realized. Not in the car: he didn’t feel the cushions of the seat beneath him. No, this seemed more like—

  “You’re in bed, back at the motel,” she said, almost as if she’d sensed his thoughts. Maybe she had. They were linked and—

  Her fingertips stroked his cheeks, felt strangely rough against his skin. “Can you hear me?”

  He tried to nod, but found he couldn’t move his head.

  Fear rose in his throat.

  “Adam?” A whisper. “Adam! Adam!” More demanding now. And she had fear in her voice. A fear to match his.

  Since when was Maya afraid of anything?

  “I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me? Please, Adam, just open your eyes—for a minute, okay? Let me know that you’re still in there.”

  He was there. Right beside her. He could hear every word she said. Could feel her body so close to his. He tried to open his eyes, struggled.

  Her breath caught. “Adam?”

  His lashes fluttered.

  “That’s it, that’s…”

  He couldn’t get them to open, and the effort had left him feeling hollowed out.

  “You can hear me.” Absolute certainly now. “Then listen up, Slick.”

  Slick. He’d rather liked it when she called him Adam.

  “Time’s running out. You’re hurt bad. Real bad.”

  Yeah, he’d managed to work that one out for himself.

  “You’re not going to make it,” she said softly and her fingertips rasped across his brow. “I don’t even know how you’re still alive now.”

  She was telling him—No! He wasn’t dying. He—

  “There’s a chance, a very, very small chance…” She swallowed and he could hear the painful click perfectly. “Th-that I can change you.”

  Change him. Turn him into a vampire.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood,” she murmured, “and the damage—it’s so bad that I-I’m not sure you’ll survive long enough for the exchange.” She drew in a deep breath. “But it’s your only chance.”

  No. He couldn’t change. It wasn’t possible for him.

  “It’s your choice.” Her breath feathered over him and he knew she’d leaned in close. “I-I won’t make this decision for you—so I need some kind of sign here, Adam. I need to know, need to see what you want me to do.”

  He understood what she was saying, and what she wasn’t. Maya wouldn’t take the option of dying away from him, as it had been taken from her.

  “Give me a sign,” she said, “and make it fast.”

  But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even lift his lashes. He didn’t want to die and he sure as hell didn’t want to transform—becoming a vampire wasn’t an option for him.

  He tried to talk. Vaguely, he remembered saying something to her before, but now, all he managed was a faint moa
n and a choked gurgle.

  “Adam!” Maya wiped his lips and he understood the moisture he felt sliding down his chin was his own blood.

  Not a good sign.

  Shit.

  “You’re dying. There isn’t any time left.”

  He wanted to look at her. To see her face once more and to find out if she was really crying, because it sure sounded like she was.

  The great Maya Black. Crying over someone like him.

  “Choose, Adam. Show me something…choose!”

  Her words rumbled against his right ear. Then her mouth moved down, pressed against his throat and he felt the edge of her teeth.

  Choose.

  There was no choice.

  Gathering every bit of strength he had, Adam managed to jerk away from her, just one tiny inch.

  Maya lifted her head. Gazed at his battered face.

  Adam.

  He was choosing death.

  Her hands clenched into fists and the tears tracked down her cheeks.

  Chapter 8

  Maya was staring at him.

  Adam frowned, pushing his body up slowly from the soft mattress.

  She stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clenched at her sides, a frown pulling her brows low.

  Not staring. Glaring at him.

  He swallowed. His throat felt dust dry and hurt like a bitch.

  “Water’s on the table.” Her voice was hard.

  Adam glanced to the right. Saw a half-full pitcher of water.

  A chair had been pulled to the edge of the bed. Red-stained cloths littered the floor.

  He lifted his hand for the pitcher.

  “Here.” Maya had moved almost soundlessly. She poured the water into a cup, held it to his lips.

  Adam drank greedily, the water pouring down his chin as he gulped the sweet liquid.

  “Not so fast,” she murmured. “Just take it easy.”

  He drained the glass dry. Waited for her to fill it again.

  Then he noticed there were shadows under her eyes. “Have you…slept?”

  She shrugged. “Little bit.”

  Sunlight trickled through the blinds. “How…long have I been out?” His voice was stronger.

  The cup pressed against his lips. Her eye met his. “Two days.”

  Two days.

  Three swallows and the glass was empty. “More.”

  For an instant, he swore her eyes heated. Then she looked away. “I-I’ll go refill the pitcher.”

  When she stepped away, he finally found the courage to glance down at his body. He shoved the sheets away.

  “You’re fine.” Maya had paused near the bathroom. “No cuts, no broken bones.” His gaze rose and he saw her give a little shrug. “Not even so much as a bruise.”

  She opened the door, disappeared, and he thought he heard the faint murmur of her voice.

  He glanced back at his body. She’d stripped him. Washed him. He could smell the faint scent of soap on his body and he knew that before, he’d been covered with blood and grime.

  “Here.” She was back by his side. Holding out the paper cup. “From the looks of you, I figure you’re probably strong enough to hold it yourself.”

  He took the cup. His fingers brushed against hers.

  A small shiver shook her body.

  An answering quiver began in his groin.

  Her gaze raked over him. Hot. Searching.

  But he had to know. “You didn’t…bite me again, did you?”

  She licked her lips, muttered what could have been, “Don’t tempt me.” Maya shook her head, sending her dark mane brushing against her cheeks. “If you’re trying to ask if you’re a vamp, the answer is no.”

  He hadn’t thought that he was, but it was still damned good to know. He took a long swallow from the cup, nearly draining all the water.

  Maya just stared at him, a curious tenseness in her body.

  “You look pretty good,” she finally said softly, “for someone who should be dead.”

  Tipping back his head, he gulped down the last of the water and then crumpled the paper cup into a ball.

  “Um, you’re one to talk.” The lady was undead and she’d taken his breath away from the first moment he’d seen her.

  Maya grabbed his hand. Her flesh was slightly cool against his, but just that one touch had his body tightening with a sudden, fierce yearning.

  “I thought you were dying on me.” Something that could have been pain, but surely wasn’t, lurked in her eyes.

  His jaw clenched. “You dug me out.” Memories were coming back to him. The falling ceiling. The pummeling rocks.

  And Maya.

  Her touch. Her voice. Calling to him.

  Saving him.

  If she hadn’t pulled him out, he would have died. Pinned as he’d been, he wouldn’t have been able to escape and with the constant battering pressure of the rocks on him, there would have been no chance for regeneration.

  If the cave-in hadn’t killed him, eventually, starvation would have.

  The vamp who’d attacked him had planned well, but he obviously hadn’t counted on Maya.

  And, Adam realized, he hadn’t trusted her enough.

  His hand flipped over, caught hers. Linked tightly with her fingers. He stared into her bright blue gaze.

  Maya Black had saved his life. She could have left him. Taken his two hundred grand and walked out of the tunnels and gone on with her life.

  She just kept surprising him.

  Time for trust. He owed her trust.

  Time to take a risk.

  He just hoped he didn’t frighten her. Adam didn’t want Maya to be afraid of him.

  “There’s something you should know,” he told her, and realized that his voice had hardened to a growl. He was just so damn nervous. “Maya, I-I’m not human.” Never had been.

  Her lips thinned. One eyebrow rose. After a beat of silence, she finally murmured, “No shit, Slick.”

  Adam blinked. “What?”

  She climbed onto the bed, eased down beside him. Kept her fingers locked with his. “I knew from the first taste that you weren’t human.” Her left hand lifted, traced a gentle line down his throat. “Your blood was different.”

  And she hadn’t said anything? “Why didn’t you—”

  “I don’t want to talk now.” Her lips were close to his. “Later—later you can tell me what the hell you are.”

  Another hard blink.

  “Right now, Adam, I just want you.” Her mouth brushed over his. So soft. So easy.

  So right.

  “I just want you,” she whispered again.

  He sure as hell wanted her.

  She’d seen death enough times to know what the beast looked like. The lifeless eyes of a perp. The bloodstained clothes of a victim.

  The still body of a child.

  Yeah, she’d seen death too many times in her life, and she’d been damn sure that she’d been seeing death steal Adam’s life.

  Not human. Hell, yes, she knew that. She wasn’t a fucking idiot. But right then, she didn’t really care what Adam was.

  As she’d told him, she just wanted him, needed to feel his flesh against her. In her.

  Needed to make damn sure this wasn’t some twisted dream and that he was real.

  Alive.

  Because there’d been so much death in her life. Too much.

  Her hand left his throat. Pressed against his lips. “You have to be quiet,” she whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”

  His brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

  “Shh.” They’d get to the whys later. She kissed him. A light, gentle kiss, a wet glide of her tongue past his lips.

  Her legs straddled his naked hips. Her thighs pressed against his and his chest—the guy had a freaking amazing chest—pushed against her breasts.

  His cock was swelling. Her hips shifted against him and she rubbed her sex over him, hating the denim that separated her from that hard heat.

  But this time, she did
n’t want the sex between them to be hard and fast.

  Not her usual style. She wanted something…different.

  Her tongue rubbed against his.

  She’d missed his taste in the last two days.

  His hands were on her now. Sliding under the edge of her T-shirt and moving up her back. Strong fingers. Warm flesh. Caressing. Stroking. Slipping around her body and cupping her breasts.

  She hadn’t bothered with a bra. Not much point when she’d been keeping a death vigil.

  Until dawn. When the sun rose, his body had changed before her eyes. The bruises had faded. The cuts and lacerations vanished. The bones snapped back into place.

  Death had disappeared from the room.

  Now, she wanted to reassure herself that Adam was with her once again, completely whole.

  Maya wanted to touch every inch of him.

  Just to make absolutely certain.

  Her lips trailed kisses over the firm line of his jaw. Sucked lightly on his throat. The temptation to bite was strong. She could almost feel his blood trickling over her tongue.

  Control.

  There’d be time for blood later.

  “I fucking love your breasts.” Adam’s voice rasped.

  His fingers teased her nipples. And she loved his hands.

  “Taste you,” he whispered. “Want your nipples in my mouth.” He eased her back and jerked her shirt up. Tossed it onto the floor. Cold air swirled over her skin. Then his mouth was on her. Wet and warm. Licking and sucking her nipple and sending liquid heat straight to her groin.

  She bit back the moan that sprang to her lips.

  Quiet.

  Her hands skimmed down his bare arms. Such strong arms. The muscles beneath his skin were corded, tight with power. Her fingertips stroked his chest, found the hard brown nipples, and plucked.

  Adam hissed out a sharp breath. “I need to be inside you. Want to fuck you so bad.”

  “Not yet.” Not too fast, not this time. She pushed against him until she was sitting in his lap, chest to chest, groin to groin. “I want to touch you first.” Every inch.

  His hand settled on her ass. Clenched. “Don’t make me wait too long.” A warning.

  A challenge.

  A smile curved her lips as she drew her hand down the tight line of his abdomen. His body jerked beneath her touch. “Maya…”