by Cynthia Eden
“Yes.”
She touched the rocky wall that had been at the end of the tunnel. So heavy. “Someone put these here. . . .”
“Probably because they didn’t want those vamps ever getting loose.”
She didn’t want to think about the vampires. Or the memories they’d stirred up in her mind. One thing at a time. The only thing she was thinking about was survival. She touched the rocks.
Cain grabbed her hand. “Baby, why do you have a death wish?”
Eve tried to snatch her hand back. She couldn’t. He was too strong. “I don’t.”
“Then why did you stay with me?” In the darkness, his words were more snarls than anything else. So much anger. No, fury.
She had fury of her own. “Why are you so pissed off at me?” Eve demanded. “Because I didn’t want to get my body sliced open by that freak? Or because I’d rather die in the dark with you than—”
He whirled her around and pulled her against him. “You’re supposed to live.” He backed her up two steps. “We’re running out of air. No one is going to come for us. You were supposed to live!”
His eyes started to burn in the dark. Finally. She could see the fire blazing at her. The only light in the blackness.
Was there madness in that light? Maybe. But she had her own madness, too. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone.” Her words sounded calm. How was that even possible? She could see Cain walking that fine line between reason and fury. She had to keep him from crossing over, so she told him the truth. “I knew I’d be safe with you.”
His hands bit into her shoulders. “You’re going to be dead with me.”
“Then you’d better hurry and find a way to save us both”—she said the words with confidence—“before I run out of air.”
He jerked away from her so quickly that she stumbled and slipped to the ground.
“Eve—” His hands reached for her, but she shoved him back.
“Eve, I didn’t mean—”
She crawled on the ground. Rushed toward the rocks. Lifted her hand, not touching them, just feeling.
“I’ll get you out,” he swore. “I will. I’ll find a way.”
“You don’t have to.” Her hand moved to the left. “Cain, I-I found it! I can feel air . . .” The lightest breeze was blowing through the heavy rocks.
No wonder Genesis had walled up this end of the tunnel. The vamps had been close to freedom.
They just hadn’t been strong enough to break free once the rocks blocked that freedom.
Cain was beside her in an instant. His hand pressed forward. “Hell, yes. ”
Eve started to smile. They were going to make it out of there. They’d be safe.
But then Cain’s fiery eyes turned back to her. Why was there no relief in his gaze?
“Eve . . .”
“Get us through the rocks,” she told him, knotting her fingers into fists. “Do whatever you have to do, but get us out.”
The rest of the mountain might collapse on them. She got that. But if they didn’t try, if they just sat in the dark and did nothing, she was guaranteed a slow death. “Get us out,” she said again.
Cain rose. Pulled her to his feet. Then he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her chin against his chest. “Keep your head down.”
She nodded against him. His heart thundered beneath her ear.
His body grew warmer against hers. His bare flesh heated, warming like a furnace.
She saw the flash of fire that seemed to come straight from his body—a flash that ripped around her and circled them, twining like a snake.
The fire revealed her prison. Barely five feet. A wall of earth where the tunnel had been. Destruction. Decay.
Buried alive.
The fire swelled around her. Swelled, focused.
“Close your eyes,” Cain said.
She didn’t. She wanted to see every moment.
Her head tilted, and her gaze cut toward those heavy rocks. The fire lunged at the rock wall, a snake striking. Again and again.
The rocks began to shake. Dirt fell from above.
The fire swelled higher. Burned so bright.
The mountain trembled around them. The ground rocked. The walls shook. And the dirt kept tumbling down. Cave-in. She knew it was happening, but there wasn’t a thing they could do to stop it.
Cain shoved more of his fire out, blasting at those rocks. Blasting . . .
And the mountain seemed to explode.
Eve sucked in a gasp of air, but choked on dirt. The thick dirt was everywhere, showering on her, smothering her. She tried to push against it, but couldn’t.
Then she was being pulled, yanked from the dirt, still held tight against Cain’s hard body. He pulled her, heaved her through the falling earth even as he pushed her toward the fire.
Into the fire.
Eve felt the whisper of the flames around her. Heard the crackle as it smothered out the rush of falling earth. Her hands grabbed onto Cain and she held him as tightly as she could.
She was tumbling, rolling, and he was with her. His body twisted around hers as they thudded onto the ground.
Eve opened her mouth. Sucked in a desperate gulp of air. The earth shook around her.
Cain scooped her into his arms. Raced away. She looked back over his shoulder and saw the small opening that he’d carved into the mountain. An opening that barely looked a foot wide. How had they gotten out of there?
The opening closed. The ground kept shaking.
And Cain kept running. He ran and ran with her—until they fell into the icy cold water of a lake.
“You . . . left her down there.” Richard stared at the guard. Stuart Montgomery. Ex-Marine. Ex-police detective. A guy who should have known how to carry out a simple order without screwing everything to hell and back.
The alarm was beeping, a constant shriek. It had started beeping as soon as the facility trembled.
“We were trapping him, sir,” Montgomery told him. Sweat beaded the guy’s forehead. “We didn’t know she’d run back to his side.”
“Your mistake,” Richard snapped out. Those trembles had been constant for the last five minutes. How long could Eve last in that hole without air?
Not long enough.
“Hand me your gun,” Richard ordered.
Montgomery stiffened. “The phoenix did not escape, sir. He’s still down there. . . .”
“And he’ll stay there until he manages to dig himself out.” Which he would do, Richard had no doubt about that. “But she can’t survive that long.” He’d given a simple order. How hard was that to follow? Retrieve Eve Bradley.
Not kill her.
“Give me your weapon.” The commanded was snapped from between Richard’s gritted teeth.
Two other guards stood behind Montgomery, waiting tensely, with their eyes on Richard.
Slowly, Montgomery lifted his gun from his holster and handed it over.
“Thank you.” Richard stared at Montgomery, wondering what to do with the man before him. Shooting him instantly was so tempting, but what purpose would it serve?
His father had always taught him that life and death had purpose—meaning that nothing was to be wasted in this world. “Take Mr. Montgomery down to the main lab for holding,” he told the other guards.
They immediately stepped forward.
Montgomery stiffened. “The lab?” He gave a rough laugh. “Throw my ass out of here. Fire me, whatever. But I’m not going to the damn lab—”
“Yes, you are.” Richard nodded to the guards.
They grabbed Montgomery’s arms. He tried to struggle against them. How annoying.
Richard put the gun on the desk and picked up a syringe. While Montgomery snarled and fought, Richard walked right up to him and plunged the needle into the man’s throat.
Montgomery’s eyes rolled back into his head. The guards dragged him toward the door.
The man would make a good addition to the new super-soldier program. His body was the rig
ht size. He was in top shape. He might be able to survive the transformation.
And if he didn’t . . .
No death is a waste.
Richard reached for the intercom. “Unit Twelve, report to the east side of the mountain.” The side just beyond the rocks. When Cain broke free, that was where he’d be.
And maybe, just maybe Richard would get lucky. Maybe the phoenix would manage to drag Eve from the rubble.
Life and death . . . both always had a purpose.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cain’s head broke from the icy water. He gasped, sucking in a deep gulp of air. His arms were around Eve, and her breath heaved out as they made their way from the lake.
Sodden and exhausted, they fell onto the earth. The stars stared down at them, too bright after the darkness of the cave.
Eve’s hands slid over his chest. “Are you all right?” She pushed up to study him. Her wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders.
Cain nodded. He was the one who should be asking about her. He hadn’t been sure that he’d succeed in getting her out of there alive.
Her lips trembled into a small smile. “How about we don’t do that again, huh?”
In spite of the hell they’d just faced, Cain found himself laughing. He didn’t know how she did it, but Eve could get to him. As no one else ever had. He reached for her, sinking his fingers into her wet hair. “How about we don’t,” he agreed. Then he kissed her. A light, soft kiss that wasn’t about the rough lust between them. The desperate hunger. It was just about . . . her.
Eve pulled back from the kiss as if startled. Her gaze searched his, but he had no idea what she was looking for in his eyes.
“Isn’t this fucking lovely,” a dark voice drawled from the right. “In the middle of hell, you two are taking time to screw.”
Cain leaped to his feet. He knew that annoying voice. It belonged to a vampire that was long overdue for death. “Ryder.”
The vamp gave a little salute. “As impressive as it was watching you two leap out from the inside of that mountain, why the hell were you running away from Wyatt? You were supposed to be taking him down.”
Eve rose and came to Cain’s side. “Sorry. We were a little busy fighting to stay alive.”
Ryder just laughed. “Like that matters to him.”
There were plenty of trees around them. Easy enough to make a stake. Cain figured he could have a stake in that vamp’s heart in about, oh, thirty seconds or less.
“Did you see her?” Ryder demanded, stepping forward. Cain could all but smell the guy’s desperation. “Did you see my—”
“All we saw were more fanged assholes like you,” Cain told him and offered his own smile. “Only they burned fast enough.” Actually, they’d burned faster than any vamp Cain had ever seen.
Ryder shrugged. “What? Am I supposed to care that you killed some vamps? You think I wanted to be this way? A bastard turned me . . . and I staked him as soon as I could.”
Why didn’t Cain buy that story?
The vamp shook his head. “Do you have to be naked out here? Damn man. Seriously, you don’t go to war naked.”
Cain’s teeth ground together. “After I kill you, I’ll be sure to take your clothing.”
“Come and try,” Ryder taunted.
Fine. Cain rushed forward in an instant and shattered the closest tree. He turned back with his makeshift stake, ready to drive it into Ryder’s heart.
Ryder had moved. He stood behind Eve. Not touching her. Just smirking as he gazed at Cain over Eve’s delicate shoulder. “Do you think you could go through her,” he asked Cain, “in order to kill me?”
Cain advanced. He could push Eve aside before the vampire would have a chance to attack. He could—
“They weren’t like you.” Eve turned away from Cain as she faced the vampire. “The vampires in that mountain didn’t look like you. They didn’t smell like you, and they didn’t attack like you.”
She’d caught Ryder’s attention. “What are you talking about?”
Eve’s mouth tightened, then she said, “The vampires that Wyatt kept locked in that hole, they weren’t . . . normal.”
Cain frowned at her. There was a normal for vampires? Not likely. Supernaturals were abnormal by their very natures.
“Their claws were black, and their fangs . . .” Her hand reached up to Ryder’s mouth.
If that prick nipped her fingers . . .
Eve let her hand fall away before she ever touched Ryder. “It wasn’t just their canines that were sharp. Every tooth was long and curved. They had a mouth full of fangs.”
Ryder stared down at her with wide eyes. After a moment, he shook his head. “That’s not . . . possible.”
“Sure it is,” she said as she glanced back over her shoulder at Cain. “With Wyatt, anything is possible.”
Then she stepped to the side.
Cain sprang forward, but he didn’t drive the stake into Ryder’s heart. He just shoved the tip into the vamp’s chest. Let the bastard know that if Cain had truly wanted . . .
You’d be dead on the ground.
That wasn’t what he wanted . . . yet.
“I knew one of them.” Eve’s voice pulled Cain’s gaze to her.
Ryder yanked the stake from his chest. “Asshole.”
Cain ignored him.
“I remembered him,” Eve said. “His voice, what he said—I remembered him.”
Cain could hardly recall those vampires at all. When he’d fallen into the pit, his spine had broken. Blood had choked him. He’d heard the vampires. Smelled them. Felt them bite into his flesh.
But then he’d burned. When he’d risen, he’d barely seen the vampires at all. They’d just been prey.
Eve looked so pale in the starlight. “He was there when my parents died.”
Cain advanced slowly and touched her shoulder. “Are you sure?” She’d told him that her parents died when she’d just been a child.
A slow nod. “I couldn’t ever forget his face. It’s starred in too many of my nightmares, but . . . his eyes had changed. Gotten bigger. Darker.” She swallowed and Cain saw the small, painful movement of her throat. “And I think he remembered me.”
Well, hell.
He glanced back over at the mountain.
“They’re coming,” Ryder muttered but Cain had already heard the thud of approaching footsteps. Wyatt had sent out his human minions to make sure Cain didn’t make it out of the mountain.
Too bad, asshole. I’m already free. The guy would have to learn to move faster.
“Time to get some clothes,” Cain said as he turned toward the approaching threat rounding the mountain.
Eve glanced at him, eyes wide.
“I could go for a bite,” Ryder added, voice mild.
Cain nodded—and they attacked.
“We’ve got a wounded man!” Cain called out as he lifted Eve over his shoulder. They’d taken the liberty of borrowing some clothing—perfect camouflage—from the guards who didn’t need the uniforms anymore. They were unconscious and would be for a long time to come. It wasn’t like they’d miss the clothes.
“Hurry up!” Ryder snapped. He kept his head down. Anyone looking at him would see only the green uniform he wore and his issued weapon.
Eve’s head was covered by one of the hats that a guard had been wearing. She’d slipped the uniform over her own clothing, helping the loose outfit fit a bit better. But since she was the one playing injured, the guards wouldn’t get much of a look at her.
Not before they were taken out.
The guards near the building’s entrance rushed toward them. “Need a medic,” one said into his mike. “We need—”
Cain knocked him out with one punch.
Ryder’s fangs flashed as he took care of the other man.
Too easy.
Cain lowered Eve to her feet. She cut her eyes toward him, not saying a word.
Wyatt would never expect them to storm right back after their failed attac
k last time. And Cain always loved to do the unexpected.
Ryder took the guard’s key card and swiped it across the entrance. The door slid open and he bared his teeth at Cain and Eve. “This is where we part ways.”
Cain had been itching to ditch the vamp.
“Whichever one of us finds Wyatt first,” Ryder said, “well, then that lucky bastard gets the pleasure of gutting him.”
With that, the vampire slipped down the hallway, easing perfectly into the darkness.
Cain headed left, but Eve’s light touch on his arm stopped him.
“I didn’t come back to kill Wyatt,” she said.
That sure was the reason he’d come back to this hell. He glanced at her and saw the tension and worry etched onto her lovely face.
“I came back for Trace.”
Shit. Cain’s body tensed. The werewolf was dead. Cain remembered seeing him get shot. Not once, but over and over. No way would Trace be coming back.
Eve saw the thoughts in his eyes. Her lips firmed and she shook her head. “No. Trace is strong. If anyone could survive, it would be him.”
Cain heard footsteps approaching. He stepped into the shadows, pressing his back to the wall. Eve mirrored his movements perfectly.
The footsteps grew closer. Closer . . .
Cain grabbed the guard, wrapping his fingers around the man’s neck and jerking him into the air. The human never even had the chance to scream.
Cain tightened his hold.
“Stop.” Eve’s whisper.
Teeth clenching, he did, but he didn’t let the guard go.
Eve leaned toward the terrified human. “The werewolf that was brought in earlier . . . where is he?”
Cain eased his hold, just enough to let a whisper slip from the man’s throat. “How . . . the . . . fuck . . . should I . . . know?”
The human thought he could play tough. He thought wrong.
Still keeping one arm around the fool’s throat, Cain grabbed the man’s left hand—and broke it.
The color bleached from the guard’s face.
“Try again,” Cain urged.
“D-dead . . .”
It was the answer that he’d expected. A werewolf wasn’t built to survive that kind of silver impact.