Immortal Danger
Immortal Danger (Night Watch 0.5)(12)
Author: Cynthia Eden
Not that she was planning to ever just priss over and join his psychotic little army. Sure, she felt the call, but Maya had promised herself that if she ever gave in to the summons, she’d go to kill Nassor, not to pay homage to him like some mindless sycophant.
"You can find him, though, can’t you? You can track him. Find his resting place."
"Yeah."
He exhaled.
"But it’ll be guarded by his best assassins, and I don’t think it will do us any good-"
"What the hell? He’s got Cammie! We can-"
"He doesn’t have her yet." She knew what the vampires in the vision had meant when they’d referred to Cammie as a gift. Every Born Master awakening was a sacred event in the vampire world.
Such an event would deserve a very fine gift.
What finer gift was there than the innocent blood of a child? "The vampires that attacked, they haven’t delivered the girl to him yet." Because the bastard was still entombed in the ground.
But she had an unfortunate feeling he’d be rising, soon.
That droning in her head, it had started to get the tiniest bit louder.
Not a good sign.
But, on the plus side, at least the girl was probably still alive. Maya really hadn’t been expecting that development. Plans began to race through her mind.
"How do you know that he doesn’t have her?" Adam asked quietly.
"Because I know he’s still sleeping." Getting stronger, more powerful every day. "And that’s a very good thing for us."
Adam shook his head. "How the hell is that a good thing? You can’t track the other vampires-"
"Sure I can." Who did he think he was talking to? Some rank amateur? "I can’t feel them muttering in my head, but, believe me, there is one thing in this world that I know how to do very well…and that’s hunt."
For a moment, hope flashed across his face. It was followed immediately by doubt. "You really think you can find them?"
For a guy who was paying her two hundred grand, he sure seemed to be lacking faith in her. "I know I can." But while she was thinking about the cash…Maya pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and tossed it to him. "Before we track down those vamps, there’s the little matter of my fee."
He’d caught the phone automatically in his left hand.
Maya held up a slip of paper. "I need those funds transferred to this account." Then they’d go hunting.
"Promise me that you aren’t bullshitting me." The edge of desperation that she heard in his voice gave her pause. "Promise me that you can help me track those bastards and find Cammie."
"Don’t worry, Slick. I’ve got connections."
The guy still didn’t look reassured.
"I’m your best bet." So true. Without her, well, he’d just be screwing around in the dark. But she wasn’t going to promise him that they’d find the girl. She wasn’t sure that was a promise she could keep. She’d try. Try her damnedest.
But she wouldn’t promise.
Besides, the guy should really know better than to trust the word of a vampire.
Her fingers tapped on the sofa’s armrest. "You’re wasting time. If you want my help, then make the call."
His gaze drifted to her lips. "I thought you wanted more than money."
Ah, she did. Maya smiled. "I’ll take that payment, too, later. " She’d fed well the night before.
The bagged, ice-cold blood from the hospital had been more than enough to sustain her. Sure, it hadn’t given her the wild rush that came from the blood taken straight from a source’s neck, but she’d gotten that rush when she’d sampled Adam.
The man’s taste– Hot, rich. She’d never had anything like it.
His blood, the tangy flavor, the power.
Emotions and needs had ripped through her when the first drop of his blood spilled onto her tongue. Hunger. Lust.
Sex. Orgasm.
Life .
She had a feeing that Adam’s blood could prove to be addictive.
She wondered if the second taste would be as good as the first.
Watching her, Adam slowly lifted the phone. Punched in the numbers and, after a few moments, ordered the transaction.
Maya smiled.
Time for the hunt.
"What the hell are we doing here?" Adam snapped, climbing slowly off the back of the motorcycle and glaring up at the elaborate building with its gleaming glass windows and sweeping arches.
"I need to meet a friend." Okay, so "friend" wasn’t quite the term she should be using. Maya knew Josette wasn’t exactly going to be thrilled to see her, but she needed to ask the lady a question.
The art gallery’s parking lot was full of fancy cars. Big ones, with shiny rims and perfectly polished exteriors. Through the gallery’s front windows, she could see men and women in formal attire, talking and laughing.
Josette had sure as hell come a long way in the last six years.
Homeless to high society.
Maya admired her.
Josette pretty much hated her.
Such was fate.
Maya marched up the stone walkway, her head high. The valet approached her, frowning.
"Miss-"
"The bike stays put, dude. We’ll only be here a min-"
"You’ll be here less than that," Josette said, her voice still tinged with the faint southern drawl she’d acquired while living in New Orleans. She stepped away from the gallery’s entrance and into the soft lantern lighting.
"Ah, Ms. Dusean, should I-"
Josette strode forward until she was approximately ten feet away from Maya. Then she stopped and ordered the valet, "Leave us alone."
Maya eyed the distance between her and Josette. The woman had always been like that. Not wanting to get too close to the vampire.
Can’t blame her, not with her history .
But that didn’t mean she had to like the woman’s attitude. Hell, just for sport, Maya was tempted to bite her right on her elegant neck.
Josette was a beautiful woman, no getting around it. The soft lighting made her look all the more stunning. Perfectly defined cheekbones. Wide, red mouth. Eyes the color of the night. Skin a dark cream.
"You going to stare all night, vampire? Or are you here for a reason?"
Beautiful, but the lady sure could be a bitch.
"You didn’t have to walk outside to meet me," Maya murmured softly, aware of Adam’s silent presence behind her. "I was planning to come in and find you."
Josette’s lips thinned. "I bet you were."
"You’ve come a long way." The gallery was Josette’s. The fancy pictures. Everything was hers.
Not bad for an immigrant from Haiti who’d barely spoken English when she’d arrived in the U.S.
Josette didn’t respond. Just stared with ice-cold eyes.