afraid.â
Maya giggled, filling his head with the sweet, clean scent of Ivory soap in an almost intoxicating way. A gust of wind wafted over them, bringing with it the thick scent of desire, and he had to taste her. Shaneâs gut clenched hotly with need. Sensing what he wanted, Maya tilted her head, offering herself to him instinctively as one leg slipped enticingly between his.
âI have to taste you, Maya,â Shane whispered between kisses down her throat. Her body quaked and she moaned in response. He lifted his lip and gingerly ran the tip of his fang along the curve of her neck, knowing what he needed to do. âWill you let me taste you?â
âYes,â Maya whispered. Her fingers curled around his wrists and her back arched, offering him what he so desperately needed.
On a curse, Shane let his fangs pierce the pristine flesh along her throat. The instant the warm sweetness bathed his tongue, lights burst behind his eyes and the world around him fell away. Heâd drunk from humans and vampires, and even a fairy or two, but no one tasted anything like this. Mayaâs blood was sweet and thick and sent tentacles of power through him like lightning.
He leaned in and drank greedily, and one word ran through his mind: bloodmate. The word repeated over and over like a heartbeat. It thundered through his head relentlessly. Amid the flashes of light, one image came roaring into mindâa smiling old woman who was wearing Mayaâs necklace.
Who am I?
Mayaâs mind merged with his like a thunderbolt and Shane reared back, shocked by the sudden and combustible psychic connection. Maya looked up at him through large blue eyes, and Shane watched the two tiny holes on her neck close, leaving no evidence behind.
Running one finger along her jawline, he captured her heavily lidded gaze with his. After tasting her blood, Shane was certain that Maya was far more fragile than she would have anyone believe. She was lost and reminded him of someone fighting her way through the fog with no one else in sight. Alone and frightened.
To his surprise, he was unable to read her blood memories. That was a first. It was as though all of her memories were shrouded in secrecy, hidden from anyone and everyone. The strangest part was that he didnât even think Maya knew she was doing it.
Even though he wanted nothing more than to claim her as his, words of caution ran through his head. For all her bravado, Maya Robertson was clinging to her existence with every ounce of strength she had. She was the most haunted soul heâd ever encountered.
Shane could not take her or tell her about the possibility that they were bloodmates until she knew she was safe with him, and sheâd never feel safe until she rid herself of the demons that haunted her. Shane knew all too well about demons. Heâd let the memory of his maker haunt him for more years than he cared to admit.
Maya wasnât haunted by her maker. Instead, she was tormented by a human life she could barely remember and a vicious attack she couldnât forget.
She licked her lower lip seductively and slipped her hands under Shaneâs coat, settling them on his waist. As she tugged his hips to her, a grin cracked her face, widening when the evidence of his desire pressed against her hip.
âYou want what all men want.â Her honeyed voice wafted over him as her fingers slipped beneath the edge of his shirt and curled temptingly against his flesh. She popped up on her toes and flicked her tongue over his lips, testing every ounce of his resolve. âDonât you, Shane? Do you think Iâll let you take it? Taking my blood is one thing, but taking my body is quite another.â
He held his ground and admitted to himself that Maya wasnât entirely wrong. Shane wanted her more than any other woman, human or vampire, but the taunting tone of her voice, combined with the familiar look in her eye, gave him pause.
It was the