by Cynthia Eden
“Those tranq darts can take out anyone,” the voice she already hated told her, “even a monster as strong as Ryder.”
Another guard lifted his weapon and fired at her. Ryder roared and grabbed him. The man was dead before he hit the floor.
And she was hit. A tranq dart was in her chest. Her knees gave way.
“No point fighting,” that annoying voice blasted out from the speaker. “Like I told you, the tranqs can take out anyone.”
Her shoulder slammed into the floor. She tried to push back up to her feet, but she couldn’t get her limbs to work right.
Ryder was falling, too. Falling, but still fighting. Another dart sank into his neck.
Then his head hit the floor. The smack of his skull had her flinching and reaching out to him.
I’ve reached for him before. The memory was there, just beneath the surface of her mind.
He groaned when his body collapsed on the floor. A guard went to step over him—
Ryder’s hand flew out, tripping the man. “I’m not . . . out yet,” Ryder growled. “Stay the . . .” His fist slammed into the man’s mask, “hell away from . . . her.”
Her heart was slowing down. It felt like she had mud in her veins, not blood.
Ryder had yanked that man closer to him, and as she could only lie there and watch, Ryder buried his fangs in the guy’s throat.
Drinking from him.
Her neck began to ache.
Another memory was there, trying to push through.
“Get her out!” The shout blasted from the intercom. “Now!”
The men not unconscious or dead hurried to obey. Ryder was too weak to hold them all off, but he took two down.
Two others grabbed her. Fire sputtered from her hands, but it didn’t burn their suits. They dragged her out, hauling her right past Ryder.
He snarled in fury and tried to reach for her, but she knew the tranq must be having the same effect on him.
Mud inside. Can’t move.
Ryder grabbed one of the fallen men. Sank his teeth into the unconscious man’s throat.
“I’ll . . . find . . .” Ryder’s voice was following her. Her gaze found his. Blood stained his mouth. His victim lay on the floor beside him. Two puncture wounds marked the man’s throat.
“I’ll find . . . you . . . Coming . . . for you!” Ryder growled after her. She wasn’t sure if his words were a threat, or a promise.
Maybe they were both.
Then she was outside of that small room. The men in white lifted her onto some sort of gurney. They strapped her in and rolled her down a hallway. Fluorescent lights flickered over her head.
She tried to break free, but the drug was still slowing her down.
A door opened. The scent of bleach and antiseptic hit her.
Another room.
“Let . . . go,” she whispered.
Then a man leaned over her. Tall, dark, with green eyes.
Not like Ryder’s eyes.
This man’s eyes were a cold, arctic green. Chilling.
“You’re lucky we got you away from him in time.”
She didn’t feel lucky.
“Sabine, I’m sorry for what he did to you.”
Sabine. There was the name again.
He smiled. “You don’t remember, do you? That happens sometimes, after a rising.”
It’s the Twilight Zone. She remembered that show. The images of it flashed through her mind in quick succession. I’m in it. Someone. Get. Me. Out.
“Your memory will come back soon enough. Once you’ve rested.” He shined a light in her eyes. Touched a hand to her skin and then jerked his fingers back, waving them as if they’d been singed.
She’d like to do more than singe him.
“How did it feel?” he asked her as he inserted a needle into her arm.
“What?” She gritted out at him. That needle was freaking huge, and whoever this man was—I hate him. The knowledge was there. Lost memory or not.
“Dying,” he said, as if it were obvious. “How did it feel when Ryder killed you?”
Her heart seemed to stop. “You’re crazy.” She wasn’t dead. She was talking to him. Living. Breathing.
And Ryder hadn’t killed her. He’d been there to help her. He’d tried to calm her down so the fire wouldn’t rage out of control. He’d done his best to protect her from the guards.
The man’s lips tightened. “You’ll tell me soon enough. This was just the first of our experiments.” He pulled the needle from her arm. Nodded to someone that she couldn’t see. “You’ll beg to tell me.”
She wasn’t begging him for anything.
“Just as you begged Ryder to let you live. But he didn’t, did he? He just took your blood and left you to die.”
The fury had drained from her. Only fear remained. “Why are you doing this?”
He reached out to touch her face, but hesitated. Don’t want to get burned, do you?
But Ryder hadn’t gotten burned when he touched her. He’d held her, kissed her. He hadn’t been afraid of her fire.
“You can help to change the world.”
“Let me go.”
“You can save lives. Make miracles. And really, is death too much to ask from you?”
He turned away before she could tell the crazy bastard that, yeah, death was too much to ask.
“It’s not like you won’t just come back when you die.”
His words were tossed back at her. She couldn’t see him anymore. The straps pressed her against the table and the drugs held her still.
“You’re weaker than the other one,” he said. “That isn’t a bad thing, don’t worry. I know how to make you stronger. All you need are a few more deaths.”
In. Sane.
“We’ll start soon, don’t worry. But I need to check on the vampire. See what your blood has done to him.”
Ryder had drunk from her? The bastard in the lab coat had said . . . Did he kill me?
No, that was crazy. She wasn’t dead.
Or was she?
Because this place, with its stark white ceiling, with the men who shot at her, and with the vampire who killed in front of her . . . this place sure seemed like hell.
They dragged out the bodies while he was still weak. They moved fast because they were smart. Even as the last body was hauled out of his cell, Ryder was already pushing to his feet as his body fought the poison in his veins.
The SP tranq. How he hated that bitch. Damn Wyatt for every creating the drug that could knock even the most powerful of supernaturals on their asses. The SP tranq was tailored for Ryder and his brethren, guaranteed to temporarily immobilize even the strongest monsters out there.
And it was only the supernaturals that Wyatt cared about. This lab, the cells, they were all designed to hold supernatural beings so that Wyatt could experiment on them.
Ryder now knew exactly why Sabine had been brought to his cell. Wyatt had wanted to gauge Ryder’s reaction to her, and Sabine—well, she was just another one of Wyatt’s experiments. A victim, one who didn’t even seem to realize just what she’d been.
Not until she’d died.
Sabine Acadia.
After drinking Sabine’s blood, the guards’ blood had tasted like stale bread in his mouth. She’d been life. Warmth. Spice and wine.
He stalked toward the two-way mirror. Drove his fist into the surface. “Where is she?”
He’d promised Sabine that he’d find her. He would. He’d leave Genesis, but he’d be sure to take her with him.
Then they’d both burn this hellhole to the ground. Sabine would be so good at that burning.
“I know you’re there,” he snarled at his reflection, and he did know that Wyatt was watching him. Ryder had tried to play it cool and not let the scientist realize just how enhanced his senses truly were, but screw that ruse.
He could smell the bastard in that other room.
“Where’d you take her?” His fist pounded into the mirror once more.
The intercom crackled. “Why do you care, vampire?”
He knew the question came because he wasn’t supposed to care about anyone or anything. As a rule, he didn’t care—that was the reason Wyatt hadn’t been able to break him.
Don’t. Care.
“You know what Sabine is, don’t you?” Wyatt asked him.
Yes, he knew. She shouldn’t have existed. She should have only been a myth.
But vampires were supposed to just be myths, too. And here the fuck I am. “I know you’re playing with fire. So when your ass gets burned, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”
Silence. The kind that said he’d pissed off Wyatt. That was the kind of silence he liked, but then Wyatt said, “That was her first death. Her first rising. I don’t believe Sabine had any idea just what she was.”
Hell, after that fire, she hadn’t even realized who she was Standing there, her body naked, sexy and perfect, but her eyes looking so lost and confused.
He’d wanted to protect her. Protecting wasn’t his bit. Killing was.
I’m the reason she died. Wyatt had tossed her to him like a fresh piece of meat before a starving dog. “You knew what would happen when I tasted her blood.”
“Ummm . . .” He heard the scribble of a pen as it scratched over paper. Wyatt, taking his notes. Always recording and analyzing every word and deed.
The human doctor who was supposed to take genetics to the next level. Supposed to create the perfect soldier—hell, those had been Wyatt’s exact words to him. With the power of the beasts here, we can create a military force that will be unstoppable .
Wyatt sure liked to play with fire. Watch that, asshole, or you’ll get burned to ash.
Even before he’d been captured by Wyatt and his goons, Ryder had made it his mission to learn as much as possible about Genesis, and the man at the helm of the organization. The newspapers had been full of glowing stories about genius scientist Dr. Richard Wyatt and his plans to use Genesis as a research facility that would aid the U.S. government.
Ryder had looked past those flashy stories—stories designed to fool humans and lull them into thinking that everything was okay, that they still lived in a safe world.
A world in which the supernaturals could be used and controlled.
Yes, he’d looked deeper, and he’d discovered that paranormals were being abducted and forced into Genesis. Once inside Genesis, they didn’t get out.
I will, though. I’ll break free. Did the government realize how far Wyatt was going, in the name of his so-called research? Ryder bet they did, and the human suits just didn’t care.
In his experience, supernaturals were highly expendable to humans.
Silence filled the room, then Wyatt finally said, “Vampires don’t just drink blood, they drink power.”
Ryder cursed. Like he needed a lesson on what his kind did. If Wyatt ever realized just who Ryder was . . .
I’ll never get out of here.
Not an option for him.
“I knew Sabine would have plenty of power for you.”
Enough power to drive him crazy from the rush. He’d never tasted anything quite like her. Probably never would again.
“Her fire didn’t burn you.”
Wyatt’s words sank into Ryder, and he tried to show no change of expression. He’d hoped the doctor had missed that part of the experiment. He should have known better.
“The fire went right over your back, but you have no wounds.”
Ryder smiled into the mirror. Where is she? “You know vamps . . .” He slapped his chest. The bullet wounds were gone. “Fast healers.” Especially him.
“You didn’t heal. You just didn’t get burned.” Wyatt sounded annoyed then. Big deal. Ryder was way past the point of being annoyed.
“Why don’t you come in here?” Ryder invited him. “Check me out. See for yourself.” So I can rip open your throat.
“You drank her blood . . . hmmm . . . was the blood what gave you immunity to her flames?” Now he figured Wyatt was just talking for the hell of it. “It must have been.”
Ryder’s back teeth ground together.
“Vampires burn as fast as witches, but you didn’t burn.”
Ryder saw the promise of death in the reflection that stared back at him. Wyatt would see that promise, too.
“We’ll have to experiment more.” Now Wyatt was talking to the others who were with him. More sadistic jerks in lab coats. The ones who cut open the paranormals and pieced them back together. Well, mostly, anyway. Ryder knew the paranormals being held weren’t always allowed to fully heal or even survive.
And they said he was the monster. At least he didn’t play with his food.
“Once she wakes up and she remembers . . .” Yes, Wyatt was definitely talking to his flunkies. “Take her to the other vampire.”
Sabine.
Ryder didn’t move, but his fangs were suddenly burning in his mouth. “Don’t fucking dare.” Another vampire? Of course, he’d known more of his kind were being held. But another vampire and Sabine?
Look what I did, and I’m the oldest of our kind. A younger vampire would never be able to hold back. A younger vampire would hurt her, rip her skin. Tear her throat wide open.
Then she’d burn again.
The speaker crackled. “Is there a problem?” Wyatt’s calm voice. Bastard, he knew he was baiting Ryder. “Not forming an attachment, are you, vampire? Because I thought you were incapable of attachments.”
Yeah, well, he’d thought the same thing, but Sabine was changing the game for him. She needed him, and, for once, he was going to protect someone—not just someone, her. “Bring her back to me.” Gritted out.
“And if I do, what will you give me?” Wyatt wanted to immediately know.
It was a devil’s deal. One that Ryder had known would come, but he had no choice. His hands dropped to his sides. He stared straight ahead. When he concentrated hard enough, he could see Wyatt through the glass. The fool didn’t know it. The doctor was smirking. His stance too cocky. His flunkies weren’t nearly as close to the glass. Because they were afraid.
Despite the guy’s IQ, Wyatt didn’t seem to have the sense to fear.
When death comes, you won’t be so cocky. You’ll be so afraid then that you piss yourself.
Death would be coming soon for Wyatt.
“What will you give me?” the doctor asked again.
No choice. “Whatever the hell you want. Just give Sabine back to me.”
Silence. Wyatt’s gaze drifted down to his notes, and the men behind him shifted nervously. Then, finally, once he’d proven that he thought the power was his, Wyatt’s stare rose to meet Ryder’s. “Deal.”
CHAPTER THREE
Seven days. Seven long, fucking days, and then they finally brought her back to him.
“Stand against the back wall,” Wyatt’s voice ordered, seeming to echo in the small room. “If you make a move to attack any of the guards, we’ll kill her.”
Again.
The word hung in the air. Ryder wasn’t in the mood to watch her die so he marched toward that back wall. He lifted his hands, showing that he wasn’t attacking anyone, yet. And he waited.
The footsteps came. He caught the faint scent of flowers. Still? Light, sweet. Even after everything, she still smelled of flowers? Then the metal grated. The door opened.
Sabine stepped inside.
She was dressed in loose, gray sweats and a T-shirt. Her long hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, nervous, and her dark stare instantly locked on him.
The guard behind her pressed his gun into her back.
Ryder’s gaze jerked to the man’s face. He knew that guard—Mitchell. Barnes Mitchell. A prick who liked to dole out pain.
I’ll give you pain. It was a promise Ryder planned to keep.
Sabine took a few steps forward. The door swung shut behind her, the hollow clatter of the metal making her jump.
Ryder lowered his hands.
<
br /> She shook her head. “Don’t even think of coming at me with those fangs again, vampire.”
Ah, so her memory was back. His gaze swept over her. He was glad there weren’t any flames around her this time, but he had to confess that he’d sure enjoyed the sight of her naked body.
His cock was hard just thinking about her lush curves.
Control.
Too many eyes were watching them, and he’d already revealed too much weakness to Wyatt.
“If you can keep your fire in check, phoenix, then I’ll try to keep my fangs to myself.”
She frowned at him. “What did you call me?”
His heart slammed into his chest. “You don’t know, do you?”
A small shake of her head.
Fuck. Wyatt had let her die, and the woman hadn’t even known that she’d be rising again. She must have been so afraid.
His gaze fell to the floor. Her blood still stained the heavy, stone tiles. “I’m . . . sorry.” The words sounded harsh to his own ears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d apologized to anyone.
“Sorry for what? Biting me? Drinking my blood?”
Like a damn moth, he headed for her flame. So beautiful. Her shoulders stiffened as he approached and one foot edged back. Poor phoenix, there was nowhere to run. Wyatt had made sure of that.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” Too many had died over the long centuries of his existence. He hadn’t stopped death but with Sabine, things were different. She can come back. She’d given him a second chance.
Her breath whispered out. “You . . . you made me drink your blood.” He noticed that her small hands fisted.
If she wanted to take a swing at him, he’d let her. She sure deserved some payback. “It was the only way I could think of to help you. Vampire blood is very powerful. It can heal, just about anything.” And the blood had been working, until the guards had dragged him away from her.
Mitchell had been one of those guards.
After the guards had chained him, Ryder hadn’t been able to break out of the chains fast enough. She’d died.
Burned.
Her fist lifted. He didn’t even brace for the blow. Sure, a phoenix was powerful, but he’d take—
Her palm flattened on his chest. Her fingers were still warm, far warmer than an average human’s, and the heat seemed to sink into him.