Immortal Danger. Cynthia Eden

was taken.

      “Um.” She sat on the couch beside him, her knee brushing his. “And you came all the way to L.A. in order to find little old me?”

      Yeah, he had. Because Maya could lead him to Nassor.

      “How do you know that it was Nassor’s pack that took her?”

      “A witness told me. She saw the vampires, heard them mention his name.” Nassor wasn’t exactly a name that could be forgotten. Those who knew of the supernatural world, well, they usually knew of Nassor.

      The vampire was old. Maybe one of the oldest of his kind. Writings of him began in the time of ancient Egypt.

      According to the legends, he’d been favored by his gods. Granted immortality.

      The bastard had been raising hell ever since.

      Maya rubbed her index finger down the bridge of her nose. “Nassor’s men don’t usually leave witnesses behind.”

      “They thought she was dead.” He still wasn’t sure how Karen had managed to hold on until he’d gotten there. Sometimes, humans could surprise him. “Karen—Cammie’s nanny—managed to tell me what happened.”

      Maya reached for his hand. “Show me.”

      He hesitated. The bond. She wanted in his mind. Wanted to peer at his memories.

      Maybe she wanted to test him. To see if the story of his niece was true.

      But he could show her this.

      Only this.

      He took her fingers. Held tight, and opened his mind to the vampire.

      Instinct took him out into the night. A gut feeling that something was wrong.

      He’d sent Cammie out in the limo. The nanny had gone with her. Two guards.

      He couldn’t keep the girl in a cage. She needed her freedom.

      Going to the party—he’d thought there would be no harm in the simple trip.

      Then he’d begun to fear.

      He found the car first. The hood had slammed into a light pole. The limo’s doors were open. He smelled the blood as he ran forward, then he saw the guards. Throats ripped open, eyes staring sightlessly ahead.

      But no Cammie.

      “Cammie!”

      A gasp. Soft, pain-filled. Adam ran as fast as he could toward the sound.

      He found her in the street, tears streaming down her face, blood pooled beneath her body. The nanny. Not Cammie, not his Cammie.

      “Karen!” He reached her, dropping to his knees beside her and touching her cold flesh. He could hear the faint rasp of her breathing. He could feel death around them, waiting. So hungry.

      Her eyes met his. Full of pain. Fear. “A-Adam…” She choked on her blood, barely able to get the words out.

      “It’s all right.” But it wasn’t. Wouldn’t be, not for her. The wounds in her chest were too deep. The blood loss too severe. He squeezed her hand tightly. “You’re safe now.” Fear knifed through him, filling his veins, his every thought. Where was Cammie?

      “T-took…her.”

      His heart stopped, then began a frantic rhythm, thudding in his chest. “Cammie? Someone took Cammie?”

      She tried to nod. Her head moved just a fraction and a groan burst from her lips. Her lashes began to flutter closed.

      Death crept closer.

      “No! Karen, dammit, no! Talk to me!” She couldn’t go, not yet. “Who took Cammie?”

      “C-cl-aws, t-teeth…like…” Blood gurgled past her lips, “a-animals.”

      Karen wasn’t like him. She didn’t know about the supernatural beings that roamed the earth.

      Or, rather, she hadn’t known, until they attacked her.

      Claws and teeth. Had it been shifters? Vampires? Demons?

      “L-laughed.” She was shaking now. “B-bit me and l-laughed.”

      The full moon shone brightly down on them. He could see the marks on her arms, her legs. Her neck. Very gently, he turned her head to the side.

      He knew that bite.

      Vampire.

      “Did they say anything?” he demanded as the fear turned to rage. “Anything?”

      “Th-that…she’d…g-gif–t…N-Nas-sor…”

      Her gaze drifted from his. Her eyes looked up at the moon. At the heavens. “F-forgi…” Her words ended in a final gasp for breath.

      Her eyes were open when she met death.

      “No!”

      Maya dropped Adam’s hand. Dammit, she’d hadn’t wanted to see that woman’s last moments.

      They were too much like her own.

      Only the bastard who’d attacked her had managed to get a few drops of his blood into her mouth. She’d tried to spit them out, but, well, since she was now one of the undead, that hadn’t exactly worked for her.

      “I’ve been telling you the truth.” Adam’s voice was calm.

      She gave a jerky nod. She hadn’t really thought the guy was lying, not about the girl anyway, but she’d needed to test their link.

      “Did you see enough?” He gritted.

      “Yeah.” Enough to know they were going to have one hell of a fight on their hands. Nassor. Sonofabitch. She’d hoped Adam had been wrong about him.

      There weren’t many things in this world that scared her, but Nassor was at the top of her list.

      She’d been aware of him from the moment she’d woken as a vampire. It had started as a vague stirring in the back of her mind. A need to go somewhere, to search.

      To find him.

      In vampire land, the hierarchy was simple. The Born vampires, those rare bastards who’d been born with a thirst for blood and a curse of immortality, were the rulers. The strongest. The Born or the Blood because the power of vampirism was literally in their blood. Physically, psychically, they were the alphas. No one fucked with them—not L10s, not shifters. No one.

      You didn’t mess with a Born unless you wanted to die. Slowly. Very, very painfully.

      The Born were the ones who’d spread the disease of vampirism. Because, yeah, she thought of it as a disease. Made her feel less like a horror movie freak. They’d bitten, exchanged blood, and infected thousands.

      But the thing about the Born, whenever they created a new vampire, a Taken, well, that vamp was tied to the Born Master. And so was that Taken’s next changed human, and the next and the next….

      New vampires discovered that in addition to the perk of living forever, they had a not-so-nice voice whispering in their heads. The Master’s voice. They could feel the Master. Feel him calling when he wanted them.

      So far, Maya had been able to ignore that call.

      She had a feeling that was about to change. “You know about me, don’t you?” she asked Adam. “You know Nassor created the bastard who changed me.” Tyrus. He’d been the one to attack her in that alley. He’d been old, according to the gossip she’d heard. Two centuries. And one of Nassor’s favored assassins.

      “Yes.” That deep emerald stare of his never wavered. “I know you can take me to him.”

      “Not that simple, Slick.” Oh, if only. “Nassor’s been in the ground for the last couple of years.”

      A faint