Immortal Danger (Night Watch 0.5)

Her thick black hair framed her perfect, heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were high, glass sharp.

Her nose was small, straight. Her eyes were wide and currently the black of a vampire in hunting mode. And her lips, well, she might have the face of an angel, but she had lips made for sin.

Adam felt his c**k stir, for a vampire.

He shuddered in revulsion.

Oh, hell, no. The woman was so not his type.

Her scent surrounded him. Not the rancid, rotting stench of death he'd smelled around others of her kind. But a light, fragrant scent, almost like flowers.

What in the hell? How could she-

Maya growled and shoved him away from her, muttering something under her breath about idiots with death wishes.

Then she walked away from him.

For a moment, he just studied her. Maya wasn't exactly his idea of an uber-vamp. She was small, too damn small for his taste. The woman was barely five foot seven. Her body was slender, with almost boyish hips. Her legs were encased in an old, faded pair of jeans, and the black T-shirt she wore clung tightly to her frame.

He liked women with more meat on their bones. Liked a woman with curves. A woman with round, lush hips that he could hold while he thrust deep into her.

But, well, he wasn't interested in screwing Maya. Not with her too-thin body. Her too-pale skin.

No, he didn't want to screw her.

He just planned to use her.

Adam took two quick strides forward, grabbed her arm, and swung her back toward him.

The eyes that had relaxed to a bright blue shade instantly flashed black. Vamps' eyes always changed to black when they fought or when they f**ked.

Sometimes folks made the mistake of confusing vamps with demons, because a demon's eyes, well, they could go black, too. Actually, Adam knew that a demon's eyes were always black, and for the demons, every damn part of their eyes went black. Even the sclera. With the vamps, just the iris changed.

Usually demons were smart enough to hide the true color of their eyes. But the vamps, they didn't seem to give a flying shit who saw the change. If a human happened to see the eye shift, it was generally too late for the poor bastard, anyway, because by then, he was prey.

Gazing into Maya's relentless black eyes, Adam had a true inkling of just how those said poor bastards must have felt.

A growl rumbled in her throat, then she snapped, "Slick, you're screwing with the wrong woman tonight."

No, she was the right woman. Whether he liked the fact or not.

So he clenched his teeth, swallowed his pride, and in the midst of hell, admitted, "I need your help."

She snorted. "What the hell do I look like? The freaking Red Cross?" Her gaze held his as she bared her teeth. Her extremely sharp teeth. "I am not a helper. Now get your hand off me before I have to hurt you."

As if she could.

"Playing with your prey, Maya?" A male voice drawled from the shadows.

Adam's head jerked to the left as a tall, skeletally thin man stepped forward. The guy had bright red hair and a face that looked like it had been smashed by a shovel. His twisted smile showcased his glistening fangs.

Maya swore.

"Ah, sweet, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

She moved in a flash, lunging across the room and wrapping her fingers around his throat.

"You," she told him, her voice colder than ice, "are not my friend."

Rage sparked in his black eyes, but, to Adam's surprise, he didn't try to fight her.

"Armand…told me…about Sean."

She slanted a quick glance back at the bartender and a satisfied smile curved her lips. "Ah, I knew he could get some information for me if he just tried."

Armand swallowed and lowered his head.

Adam didn't move. The tension in the air was suddenly, dangerously thick. The bar was quiet now. The guitarist had stopped strumming. There were no more whispers, no more moans. It was as if everyone were waiting, watching to see what would happen next.

Because that's exactly what they were all doing.

"Someone attacked my day watcher," Maya said, never releasing her hold on the vampire. "And let me tell you, Stephan, that really pisses me off." She drew back her right hand, and Adam saw her razor-sharp claws.

Why didn't the other vampire attack her? Why didn't they all jump her? Adam glanced around the room, confused as hell. Sure, the whispers and rumors held that Maya had woken to the undead world with almost abnormal vampire strength, but, hell, she was only one woman.

She couldn't be that strong.

"I-I've heard…talk." Stephan licked his lips.

"And?" She lifted him up, holding him in the air with one hand.

Adam wasn't particularly impressed.

"Wasn't a vampire. Not one of us."

"Then who was it?"

" It was me ." A huge guy stood just beyond the stage. Thick claws extended from his fingers, and unless Adam was very much mistaken, the fellow appeared to have horns in the middle of his wild mass of black hair.

"Ah, hell." Maya dropped the vampire and turned to face her new threat. "What is the deal? First that guy-" She jerked her thumb toward Adam, "and now you. Has Hugh gone mad-ass crazy and he's letting just any jerk inside who wants to come and play with the vamps?"

The man– no, couldn't be a man –smiled. Adam expected to see fangs. And he did. Each tooth the guy had-and he had a lot-was a sharpened fang.

Interesting.

He stepped back, not because he was afraid, but because he wanted to watch Maya work. He figured this would be a good test for her.

Unless he missed his guess, he was staring at a level-ten demon. A very old level ten. An ancient. The baddest of his kind.

There were ten levels of demons in the known world. The first three levels, well, they weren't anything to worry about. Sure, they could control a small flame, or make the wind dance. Not exactly earth-shattering.

Fours to eights-they were stronger. They could hypnotize humans. Control more of the elements.

They were hard to kill. To slay 'em, the head had to generally be severed.

Level nines and level tens-those guys were the demons that folks really feared. The demons of the sort mentioned in the Bible. Monsters who slaughtered women and children for fun, bathed in blood, had unbelievable strength, and could sometimes live forever-provided, of course, that the demon didn't lose his head. The oldest of these demons had tails, horns, claws, and skin that couldn't be pierced with human weapons. Considering that fun fact, the level nines and level tens really didn't have to worry too much about a beheading.

That's why the bastards got to live and kill for so long.

In the supernatural world, they were considered the bad-asses. They feared no one.