Lost (2 page)

It was dark here. Darker than dark.

Feeling giddy, she giggled.
Darker than dark
. That made no sense. Nothing that had happened made sense. She'd scaled a stone and clay wall like some superhero, clawed her way to the top to find what she thought was a sexy angel dressed in white. Only he wasn't an angel. He'd told her no, and now if she wasn't careful, didn't hurry, he was going to leave her behind.

That would be bad, very bad.

She took another step, felt her toe catch, felt her body tumble forward. Impact would be next. Maybe she was dreaming, but if she was, she wouldn't hit. If she did, it meant she would die.

o0o

Cameron heard the human hit the ground. He walked four more steps before something resembling a conscience brought him to a halt. “Damn it.”

He returned to her side. She lay on the ground, her eyes open but her body completely still. When he kneeled beside her, her eyelids fluttered. “Am I dead?” she asked.

He gritted his teeth. He didn't need this. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, more to himself than to her. She was young and fragile, most likely suffering from shock, and had no business being anywhere near this canyon. But if she was stupid enough to venture here, she deserved whatever happened to her.

Despite the callous thought, he slipped one arm under her legs and pulled her toward his chest. He'd already decided he couldn't leave her behind. If she couldn't walk, he would have to carry her.

Her hand fluttered against his chest, like a butterfly afraid to land. “Are you an angel?” she asked.

At her grazing touch, his body tensed. Her hair smelled of vanilla. She smelled of cinnamon. She was like some delicate, sugar-rolled confection he couldn't wait to nibble.

“There are no angels in these woods,” he muttered.

“That's right. There are monsters here. Nancy told us.”

She was babbling. He doubted she understood her own words, but what she or this Nancy had said was true. There were monsters here, and this little tidbit was being held by one.

Her cheek brushed against his chest. Then, as if just realizing he was there, she leaned against him, rubbed that same cheek against the mud-stained material of his sweatshirt. “You smell... earthy,” she murmured. “It's nice.”

Before he could retort the reason for his apparently nice smell, she continued. “We came here on a dare— sorority hazing. We're juniors. I know we're old for it, but that's why we did it, to prove to the freshmen we were braver than they were.

“It was Nancy's idea. She knew all the stories, said if we could spend the night here, the entire campus would know about it. But then—”

Her lips clamped shut. Cameron looked down at her. “What?”

Her eyes were big, haunted. “Someone stepped out in front of our car. Nancy swerved; we went off the road... landed in a ditch. At least I thought it was a ditch, but when I got out, I couldn’t find my way back to the road. I had no cell service, and I couldn't see anything. It was black.” She glanced around. “Like this.”

It was always dark here. It was part of the place's curse, part of what made it so attractive to vampires who had lost their way. As the sun rose in the surrounding world, the canyon would change too, but it would never be lighter than earliest dawn elsewhere, never so bright that a vampire couldn't walk freely, hunt freely.

“I hit my head.” Her hand went to her forehead. Cameron brushed blond and pink curls out of the way and found a lump with his fingertips.

“I left them,” she said.

It was a confession.

“There were noises— sniffing and low growls. My hair stood up on my body. I had to get away. Nancy was awake, but she was trapped. She told me to leave. She did.”

Her voice cracked. A kind person would have told her it was okay, that she had made the right choice, that her friends would be fine, better because she had gone for help.

But Cameron wasn't any kind of person.

“Only Nancy was awake, and I couldn't carry them. I thought if I got higher I could call for help... save them. So I started to climb.” Her fingers scraped over the raised design of a hellhound that decorated his sweatshirt. She stared at the image of the giant dog with its teeth bared. He wondered if she was processing what she was seeing, realizing that the man she was confiding in, trusting to hold her so close, had much more in common with the beast of the underworld she stared at than the angel she had called him before.

“And you made it,” he replied, the closest words to assurance he could give her.

“I made it,” she whispered, but there was failure in her voice.

“It's all you could do,” he murmured.

She was hurting. He ran his fingers through her curls again, brushed his thumb over the lump. “What's your name?” he asked. He hadn't wanted to know before, hadn't wanted that connection.

“Rachel.”

“It's a pretty name.” Biblical, a sign he was making a mistake.

“What's yours?” She sounded calmer now. The ordinary talk was helping.

“Cameron.” He watched as she digested that, and then added, “Have you lost consciousness?” If she had, if there was risk to her from her injuries, then what? He couldn't leave his hunt to take her to a doctor.

But she shook her head. “No, why?”

He smiled. She wasn't even aware of her own wounds; she was too caught up in worrying about her friends. She needed someone to worry about her.

He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. A bit of mud clung to her cheekbone. He swept it aside. Then he tipped her face up to his and stared into her eyes.

“Everything will be okay, Rachel. You did the right thing.” He willed her to believe him, to trust him.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip; a line formed between her brows.

“You did the right thing,” he repeated.

She stared at him as if not understanding his words. He waited. The vampire talent for mesmerizing had never failed him, but the bump on her head, perhaps—

Her lips parted; she expelled a breath. “I did the right thing. Everything will be okay.” Her gaze flickered, and then her eyelids lowered. Her face slipped to the side, so her cheek was nestled against his chest. Concern that she was losing consciousness caused him to stiffen, but as he moved, her eyes flew open.

She stared at him, the intensity of her gaze matching his. “You'll make sure of it, won't you? You'll make sure everything is okay.”

And without thinking, without pausing, he slowly... surely... nodded his head.

As she closed her eyes and sighed, he closed his too and wondered who was mesmerizing whom.

o0o

Everything would be okay.

As she stumbled over the rough ground, the words echoed through Rachel's mind. Inexplicably, she believed them. She had since Cameron had held her against his chest.

Now he walked only inches from her side. Through sheer will, she managed not to glance in his direction.

Being near him made her feel alive and exhilarated.

Her body tingled with the kind of awareness you felt when walking beside a precipice, knowing that with each step you could trip and fall.

She stared at the ground, checking. It was solid here. The cliff's edge was far to their left now. They were weaving their way down the slope, heading to the bottom where the road and Nancy’s car lay.

So the feeling wasn’t from the risk of a fall or even the wreck.

It was Cameron.

He strummed with energy. So much that when she had placed her hand on his chest, she had expected to feel it vibrating against her palm. But she'd felt nothing unusual, only the raised design on his shirt.

And then as she looked into his eyes, she had begun to calm. His assurance that everything would be okay had wrapped around her like a warm blanket, encouraged her to relax and trust.

Deep in her thoughts, her toe again caught on a root or some other object not visible in the darkness. Her body catapulted forward. Cameron's arm looped around her waist and stopped her descent. She was pulled backwards, until her spine rested against his chest.

Another wave of peace settled over her. She rolled her head to the side. She felt as if she was sinking, like she was immersed in a tub of warm water.

Behind her, Cameron stiffened. Somewhere in her brain, she knew his response should worry her, but luxuriating in the safety that came with his touch, she couldn't latch on to why.

Besides, he had done that a lot, stopped and studied things, as if he could hear or see something she couldn't. And nothing bad had happened.

She was growing used to his cautious behavior. She'd decided it was just his way.

Her fingers wandered to her cheek where earlier he had brushed away some bit of debris. His touch had been so gentle and reassuring she couldn't remember why she had doubted that he would help her.

Nancy would laugh when Rachel told her about him, chortle that “Miss This-Can't-Be-Safe” had fallen into trusting a stranger so easily.

Nancy
. Rachel tensed. She had forgotten why she was wandering through the dark, forgotten her friends, pale and lifeless in the torn metal mess that had been a car.

A tremor took control of her frame. The need to retch doubled her over. She wrapped her arms around her body and took a step back.

Cameron had moved. He was standing two feet away.

Trembling with cold and the returned memories of the wreck, she straightened her body to a stand. The feeling of peace fled. Her hands shaking, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and slid open the cover. With the light glowing from her hand, she studied the man she had begun to trust.

He was tall and looked... strong. Not big and broad, although his shoulders were wide, just strong. It was how he stood, his feet braced as if prepared for attack, and how he walked. He moved a few steps to the side and then back. No, not moved, prowled, like a tiger in the night, aware and confident, capable and willing— eager even— to face any adversary.

Another shiver shook her body, this one so violent she almost dropped her phone.

He stared at her as if surprised. Then he sighed.

“So, you came out of it.”

Not a question, a statement. One she wasn't sure was really meant for her. She didn't reply, and she didn't put her phone away. She wanted to see him, needed to make sure the memory she had from her brief glance earlier was real.

He crossed the few feet between them, his hand outstretched. He was going to touch her. Something basic and primal told her to run, but her feet stayed firmly planted on the ground. She realized, despite whatever instinct or intuition warned, she wanted him to touch her.

His eyes were hard, like the tiger's, or how she imagined the tiger's would be right before it pounced. She licked her lips and waited for whatever was to come.

Cameron's hand stopped short, hung in mid-air in front of her before slowly drifting back down to his side. With a curse, he turned away.

Confused, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Something had happened, but she had no idea what. She raised her phone again and directed its glow toward his turned back. Cameron shoved his fingers through his hair, then, in a flash of his white shirt, he spun.

Her phone flew from her fingers.

The unending black of the canyon engulfed her.

Chapter Three

Damn the little human for making him think of her as someone to care for.

Cameron pulled back his lips and hissed. Rachel didn't move.

He flicked his tongue over his canines and felt the caps he had slipped over them earlier.

“It isn't true, is it? Everything isn't going to be okay.” Her words caused him to shrink, to think about what he was doing, what he was thinking of doing— attacking her.

He pushed his thumb against one cap. It would be so simple to pull them off. She wouldn't see him in the dark, wouldn't suspect, and even if she did, he could mesmerize her again. She would walk into his arms, stand there mindlessly as he fed... devoured.

Hunger surged inside him.

Devour. He would devour her. He should. She was a human, nothing more. He was a vampire, a predator...
the
predator. None were stronger. His satisfaction, her demise, it was how things were meant to be.

He pinched the cap between his fingers, pulled it free, and then repeated the process on the other side.

“You shouldn't have lied to me.” The words were soft. “I can face the truth. I’ll have to.” Her hand tugged at his sleeve.

He spun, his canines fully exposed.

She stepped into his arms and angled her head to look up at him.

Her neck was pale and smooth. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon hit him anew. Flashes of warm kitchens and mothers welcoming their children home from school raced through his mind. He'd had no such comforts, no one to soothe his hurts. Just a father who thought hurts built strong vampires and stronger sons.

“You know something, don't you? You're looking for something. What is it? Some animal? Have there been attacks?” She moved her hands to his shirt and bunched the material in her fists.

“Attacks. Yes... probably.” He was distracted by the sight of her neck, by the blood he knew pulsed beneath the skin, but he also couldn't imagine Dorian had been roaming the canyon as long as he had and gone without attacking something, or someone.

“My friends... do you think…?”

The emotion in her voice pulled him out of his fog. He stroked his fingers down her face then her neck. “Everything—”

She slapped his hand away. “Don't. Don't lie to me.” She twirled to the side, tried to break away, but he grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back against him.

Her heart thumped in her chest, making him aware again of the blood that coursed through her veins. Hunger returned, but this time he had no urge to devour her, at least not as he had before.

“Just a taste,” he murmured. Then, his fingers lost in her hair, he bent his head and dragged his fangs over her skin.

She clutched his shirt again. Her head tilted back, and her spine stiffened.

He expected her to fight him or faint, but she did neither. She waited as if she was as encompassed by the feel of his teeth pricking her skin as he was by the scent and feel of her in his arms.