No sign of vamps. Or humans.
The hair at her nape began to tingle. "Something's off," she whispered. "There should be guards here." But the place looked completely deserted.
Maya drew her weapon, motioned for Adam to do the same. She wasn't going to take any chances. They'd find the entrance to the tunnels, grab the girl, and then run like hell.
That was her current plan, anyway.
She crept past a large outcropping of rocks. Burnished red. Weathered from time.
Adam eased behind her, but he stopped, his body stiffening. The sound of his accelerating heartbeat reached her ears.
She glanced back at him, found him staring at the rocks, a frown between his eyes. "Adam?"
He lifted his gun. Pointed it straight at the rocks. "I heard…something."
Was he crazy? His gaze flashed toward hers. "We're surrounded, Maya."
What was he talking about? Her gaze searched the area, found only the hard rocks. She still didn't smell anyone, didn't hear-
Adam fired his weapon, and the bullet plunged into…a man. A man as red as the rock-a man who seemed to appear from nowhere, a snarl on his face and his arms raised in fury.
Shit. Understanding dawned too late as a chorus of screams erupted from the rocks. Chameleons.
Beings who could change their skin and hair color and blend perfectly with their environments, even adapting their scents to match the-
Two red chameleons sprang at her. Maya fired fast with her gun, catching one in the shoulder, then delivering a hard kick to take the other one down.
"Hell, Adam, we…" Her words ended in a grunt as Maya was grabbed from behind by a pair of icy cold hands.
Not another one.
Just how many were out there? Dammit! These bastards were reputed to be so cold-blooded they could even nearly suppress their own heartbeats.
Even with enhanced senses, it was all but impossible to pick up a chameleon's presence.
Couldn't see them, couldn't smell them, and usually couldn't hear them.
She jabbed her elbow into the jerk's ribs. He grunted, and his hold on her tightened. Oh, hell, but he was strong.
Good thing she was a hell of a lot stronger. Maya twisted her body, spun around fast, and slashed her lengthening claws down his side. His blood spilled out-red, slightly darker than his flesh. He swiped at her with a fist, but she ducked the blow. Her hands shot out, caught him in an unbreakable grip, then, with a hard toss, she threw the chameleon against the rocks.
His head cracked against the stone with a sickening thud.
Maya whirled back around. The guy she'd just shot stared up at her with bulging red eyes. Then-
shit –one eye rotated to check on his companion while the other stayed locked on her.
That was just weird. Maya slammed her gun down onto the side of his head, knocking him out and effectively closing both eyes.
The chameleon who had attacked Adam now lay on the ground, blood dripping from his side, a faint groan slipping past his lips.
She stalked toward Adam, her gun swinging in an arc toward the rocks. "Are there more of them?" She still didn't know how he'd realized the chameleons were around them, and she wasn't about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not at that particular moment, anyway.
He shook his head. "I don't think so."
She would have preferred a resounding no, but Maya figured she'd take what she could get. She grunted as she stepped over one of the prone bodies. "Guess the vamps up here have upgraded on their day watchers." Smart. Very smart.
But not smart enough.
Her gaze drifted over the rocks. She noticed a section that was a shade lighter than the surrounding red. "There." Maya pushed against the slight indention on the hard surface of the stone.
The damn thing didn't budge.
She hated the sun.
Adam stepped beside her. Put his hands next to hers.
"On three," she muttered. "One, two, th…"
The rock slid inward with a groan. The corridor it revealed was pitch-black and reeked of death and decay.
They'd found the lair.
Now if they could just find the girl. "Stay behind me, Slick," she ordered, stepping into the darkness without a single hesitation. "If things go to shit, run like crazy and don't look back."
Maya wasn't sure what they'd find hidden in those tunnels, but she couldn't rule out the chance that she might not make it out.
Life had always been a gamble. So was death.
She heard the whimpers first. Slow, pain-filled cries in the dark.
Don't let that be the kid.
Adam tried to shove past her. Maya caught his arm in a steely grip. Ah, there's the full strength.
The sun must've finally set. "Take it easy," she whispered. "We don't know what's waiting for us."
The tunnel they were in was a tall, thin corridor. Maya could see easily in the darkness and she carefully avoided stepping on the human bones that littered the floor.
So that part of the tale had been true.
Up ahead, the tunnel branched in two directions. Maya hesitated, trying to catch the scents from both the left and the right.
The whimpers were coming from the left, and she caught the faintest trace of perfume. A light, sweet scent. Human.
To the right, well, she didn't hear or smell a damn thing but death from the right tunnel branch.
So she stepped to the left. Crept forward, her gun ready, her heart racing.
She saw a faint light first. A flickering, pale light.
The cries were growing weaker. Not a good sign. There was an old door up ahead, the hinges literally drilled into the rock.
The human was behind that door, and unless Maya missed her guess, the human was dying.
Maya pulled in a deep breath and kicked open the door.
Her gaze swept the room, searching the shadows for any threat, but there was only one person in the cavernous room. One woman.
The blonde lay on the floor, her body curled in a fetal position. Maya knelt beside her, touched the woman's shoulder.
Ice cold.
The woman's face was turned away from her and Maya could hear the wheezing of her lungs as she fought to breathe.
It would be a very short battle.
Gently, Maya rolled the woman over, then flinched at the sight of the poor human.
Scratches lined her face, and bite marks ravaged her neck. Her right arm-damn, the flesh looked as if it had been burned in a fire, red, angry, with boils and blisters marring the length from wrist to shoulder.
But that wasn't the worst wound. No, the worst was the knife wound in her chest. The wound was deep. Too deep. Her blood soaked her clothes.
Maya stroked her face, tried to soothe the pitiful cries.
"She knows where Cammie is." Adam's voice. Cold. Hard.