Immortal Danger by Cynthia Eden

stayed the hell out of her way before, was no coincidence. She’d never believed in coincidences. Someone—probably that spineless Stephan—had reported to Nassor’s men about her little meeting with Adam, and the vamps had called in the dogs.
    â€œMaya?” Adam’s voice shouted over the roaring motor.
    â€œIt’s okay.” She licked her lips, then said, louder, “We’ve lost them.”
    For now. But wolves never gave up on a hunt.
    They’d be back. She just had to make certain she was ready for them.
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    The bones snapped, crunched. The fur melted from his body and the beast that had prowled on four legs slowly stood upright.
    Blood dripped in long, slow rivulets down Lucas Simone’s shoulder.
    The bitch had shot him. With a silver bullet.
    The poison was in his body. He could feel it, eating away at him.
    He lifted his right hand. The tips of his nails stretched into three-inch-long claws. Clenching his teeth, he drove the claws straight into his wounded shoulder.
    His pack gathered around him, heads low, bodies shaking.
    The blood poured faster now.
    He ripped away the skin, the muscle. Found the bullet. Jerked it from his shoulder.
    The silver burned his fingers and he threw it, tossing the bullet far into the night.
    In the distance, he could hear the roar of the motorcycle, fading now as the vampire fled.
    She hadn’t been his prey. He’d wanted the man.
    The rules of the game had changed now.
    â€œWe find them,” he said, his voice ringing loud and clear. The wolves around him stiffened, stared with unblinking eyes. “I don’t care how fucking long it takes, but we find them .” There would be no safe place for the vampire and the man.
    The wolves began to growl.
    He held up his hand. Skin and blood coated his claws. “The vampire is mine.” Blood for blood. The others needed to know the kill would be his.
    Only his.
    Lucas threw back his head, rage racing through his body, and howled his fury to the night.
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    Adam drove hard and fast through the city. The motorcycle slid easily into the curves, then shot past the cars and trucks on the highway.
    Maya held on tight as they streaked forward. She’d directed him to the busiest part of town deliberately. If they were followed, well, the werewolves would have to take their human form. Even they wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk running around the town as giant, furry wolves.
    Hiding in plain sight was one thing.
    Terrorizing the humans by charging through the city in full-on shifter mode was a whole different matter.
    No, even they wouldn’t be that stupid.
    She hoped.
    â€œStop here!” She leaned in close and since he’d never put on his helmet—another human with a death wish—she spoke the words directly into his ear.
    He pulled the bike over to the curb. Shut off the engine. They were in the nightclub district, and the streets were jammed with traffic and people partying.
    Fancy dresses. Perfect hair. The women were laughing, the men were drinking. Long lines of human bodies circled some of the clubs as the folks waited for their chance to enter the “in” places.
    Maya’s gaze scanned the street.
    Adam’s body shifted in front of her, and she eased back automatically, making room for him to climb off the bike. He turned back toward her almost immediately, his features tight. “Where the hell are you hurt?”
    She’d almost forgotten about the leg. The throbbing had eased and the skin just felt strangely tight now.
    Her hand touched her thigh.
    His jaw clenched and he reached for her.
    Her hand caught his. “How’d you know I was hurt?” She hadn’t said anything to him about the wolf clipping her. There hadn’t been a point, really. It was only a matter of time until the injury would heal and she’d be as good as new.
    He pushed her hand away. “I could smell your blood.” And he sounded