by Cynthia Eden
Ryder.
Her gaze searched the room, but there was no sign of the vampire.
“I bet I can kill you,” Cain promised, and he let his fire out.
Wyatt’s eyes widened in fear, and when the flames licked at his legs, he screamed.
“No!” Eve jumped forward and grabbed Cain’s shoulders. “Stop it!”
Cain turned on her with fury. “You’re trying to save him?”
No. She shook her head and glanced at Wyatt. He was slapping at the flames, trying to put them out. He looked . . . scared. “I want to save the others.” Trace. The humans who were still alive in the building. The other paranormals who were trapped there. She swallowed and, focusing on Wyatt, Eve demanded, “Tell me how to fix Trace.” Because when something—someone—was broken, it could damn well be fixed.
Wyatt rubbed his hand over his neck. It looked like the slashes and bite marks on his skin were already starting to close.
Bullets hadn’t killed him. The guy had enhanced healing.
What the hell is he?
Wyatt was just smiling at her, cocky once more now that he thought death wasn’t coming for him. “There is no fixing your werewolf. The beast is out, and he’ll kill and destroy until there’s nothing left.”
Cain snarled and tried to lunge forward. Eve tightened her hold on him. “We need him.” Cain couldn’t kill Wyatt. Not yet. Wyatt was the only one who could tell them what had been done to Trace. Trace . . . and probably so many others.
Wyatt laughed, then his voice was mocking as he said, “Yes, yes, you need me. You can’t kill me. No one can. If I die, I take all my secrets to the grave.” His gaze found Eve’s. “Like your secrets. I know them, every . . . single . . . one.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms.
Wyatt’s calculating gaze slid between her and Cain. “Maybe there is a way to save your wolf. . . Maybe.”
Eve tensed. “Tell me!”
“The cure’s right beside you. Your phoenix.”
“He’s bullshitting,” Cain growled. “Trying to save his sorry hide.”
Wyatt just shrugged. “Your kind . . . so rare, so powerful. Too powerful for even death to contain. You can survive anything, and just rise from the ashes.”
“Trace isn’t a phoenix!” Sweat slickened Eve’s hands. “He can’t survive. Tell me how to help him!”
Wyatt’s focus was on Cain. “His tears. The tears of a phoenix. Legend has it that they can heal.”
What the hell was the guy going on about now?
“But I can’t get him to cry. No matter how much pain I give him.” Wyatt’s lips twisted. “Can you even cry? Maybe it takes a soul to cry . . . and monsters like you don’t have souls.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t have a soul,” Eve fired back at him. “You’re the one who’s dead inside.” Cain had been right. The guy was just bullshitting them.
Wyatt’s gaze came back to her. His smile chilled Eve. “The phoenix has a connection with you. Maybe when you die . . . perhaps he’ll break then. Maybe then we’ll get him to shed a tear and save your wolf.”
“She’s not dying!” Cain’s roar.
Wyatt acted as if he didn’t even hear him. “Poor little girl,” he said, his accent thickening as his eyes swept over Eve. “Unlike Cain, you never had a problem with shedding tears. I read the report. Heard the stories about how you cried so long and hard when your mother died. When your father bled out before you . . .”
Eve’s heart slammed into her chest.
Cain’s hand curled around Eve’s. “He’s just screwing with you.”
No, he was torturing her. “Those vampires . . .”
The ones that had been in the pit, the ones they’d killed . . .
Wyatt’s smile widened. The bites had almost faded completely from his neck. He lifted a brow. “Remembered them, did you? One of my father’s . . . experiments. Unfortunately, those soldiers weren’t strong enough to adjust to the vampire DNA running through their bodies. They mutated. Became rabid feeding machines within just a few months of their transformation.” His smile faded. For an instant, he almost looked sad, but Eve knew that fleeting expression had to be just another one of his tricks. Wyatt didn’t care about anyone or anything.
“Your father transformed those men?” Eve held her body carefully still. Beside her, she could feel the leashed power vibrating within Cain.
Wyatt nodded. “A failed experiment. One of the few my father had.” Wyatt lifted his hands and stared down at them with narrowed eyes. “One of the few,” he said again, voice softer.
Why weren’t guards storming into the room? Swarming them? Eve glanced back toward the door. Everything was off about this place. But . . .
He knows what happened to my family. Cain was wrong. Wyatt wasn’t just toying with her. The guy actually knew about her parents. After so many years of wanting the truth, Eve couldn’t just walk away. “Why did they die?”
Cain wasn’t attacking. Wyatt was talking. She’d keep him talking for as long as she could.
Wyatt’s gaze flickered to her. “If your mother couldn’t be contained, she had to be killed.” Said so coldly. “My father—Jeremiah—believed it was too risky to keep her alive.”
Eve shook her head. She felt as if someone were ripping into her heart. Not just someone—Wyatt. “My mother—why her? Why was she picked for the experiments?”
The slashes on Wyatt’s arms had closed. Blood still pooled around his feet, but the guy no longer showed any sign of injury. “Because she was a dragon shifter,” he said, voice tight. “Jeremiah knew a dragon shifter was too dangerous to run free. Left on her own, she would have killed too many. She had to be stopped.” It sounded like he was reciting a story he’d heard many times before.
Maybe he was, but every word was new for Eve.
Dragon shifter. Her gaze fell to her own hands. She’d never shifted a day in her life.
“Even with her last breath, she was saving you,” he said. “Her fire stopped those vampires from killing you.”
The fire that she’d feared for so long? It had been to protect her? Her mother’s flames.
“Eve . . .” Cain’s growl.
“The fire doesn’t hurt you!” Wyatt rushed out, breaking over Cain’s voice. “It can’t. Your skin may look all soft and silken, but you’ve got dragon scales hidden beneath that surface. You can’t burn.”
She was having trouble breathing.
Looking too satisfied, Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got so many secrets. Secrets you can’t even guess at,” he muttered with a hard glare at Cain. “That’s why you can’t kill me. Why the vampire couldn’t kill me. If I die”—his eyes came back to Eve—“those secrets die with me.”
He was right. They couldn’t kill him. They needed him too—
“Too damn bad,” Cain snarled and fire exploded from his fingertips—fire that raced for Wyatt. Wrapped around him. Wyatt screamed and fell to the ground. He was trying to put out the flames, but he couldn’t. The fire was too hot.
“Stop!” Eve screamed. She lunged forward, but Cain’s arms wrapped around her, and he hauled her back against his chest. “Dammit, Cain, stop!”
“He has to die.” Flat. Hard.
But her past was dying with him. Trace was dying. All the others he’d hurt and experimented on could be dying. “No, please!”
His hold wouldn’t break. Wyatt’s screams filled her ears, and she barely heard Cain whisper, “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eve was twisting and fighting in his hands, but Cain wasn’t letting her go. Didn’t she understand? If Wyatt survived, he’d just continue to torture. To kill. They couldn’t let that happen.
He had to be stopped.
Eve’s nails dug into Cain’s skin. “You’re killing Trace!”
The werewolf was already dead. Cain had known that with one look. The beast had taken over. “The man is gone. Only his animal remains.”
“And when y
ou come back from the fire, only the phoenix remains in you!”
Her words had him tensing, mostly because he knew how true they were. But, so far after his risings, he’d still managed to cling to the barest edges of his sanity.
Because of her.
She was looking at him with desperation in her gaze. “I haven’t given up on you when you stare at me with a stranger’s eyes, and I won’t give up on him!”
An alarm was sounding in the distance. A shrill beep that wouldn’t stop. Help would be coming for Wyatt, too late. The flames had burned so bright, Cain knew there was no chance of survival for Wyatt.
“When I stare into the eyes of the phoenix”—Eve snarled and her fist slammed into his chest—“I don’t give up on you. I fight to get you back. I fight for you.”
And he was fighting to protect her. Wyatt would use her. Abuse her. Lock her in a lab and slice her open. Cain wasn’t going to let that happen. Even if she hated him for what he had to do.
Better her alive, free, and full of rage than having her stone cold dead.
She pressed the barrel of her gun against his heart. “Stop it,” she ordered, voice trembling.
He didn’t stop the fire. It was too late. Didn’t she see that? “Shoot me if you must.”
“Damn you.” Eve jerked free of his arms, and spun to face the flames.
Then she jumped into the fire.
Instinctively, he killed the flames. He knew the fire wouldn’t hurt her, of course, but . . . he stopped the flames before he could even think.
He heard the low rasp of breathing. The fire had savaged Wyatt’s body, but the guy—he was still alive? How in the hell?
Hurt, in agony no doubt, but still breathing.
Eve glanced up at Cain with tears in her eyes. “He’s an experiment, too,” she whispered.
Cain had thought nothing else could surprise him. “He experimented on his own damn self?”
Eve’s hand hovered over Wyatt’s burned flesh. Flesh that was slowly starting to heal as Cain watched. “I don’t know.”
The alarm was louder. Shriller. But no guards had stormed inside yet to rescue Wyatt. Why the hell not? Wyatt had to be their first priority in this place, but no one was coming to save his ass.
Cain stared at Eve. Wyatt wasn’t a threat. Not then. But he still said, “If he comes at you, shoot him.”
With the gun cradled in her hands, Eve nodded.
But would a bullet stop him? Bullets hadn’t slowed Wyatt down before.
The guy’s breath rasped out as his body shuddered.
Cain heard a scream echoing up from the hallway, a long, pain-filled cry. He rushed out of the room. Looked to the left, the right—
A woman stood in the middle of the hallway. Flames danced around her. Her long, blond hair twisted around her shoulders, and her eyes were as red as the flames that surrounded her.
Phoenix.
He’d found Ryder’s lost lady, and she sure looked pissed.
She stared at him, not advancing, just watching. “Am I supposed to kill you, too?” Her voice was soft, barely rising over the fire, and completely without emotion.
Cain shook his head. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
She laughed at that. “Of course, you are. They’re all here to do that. To kill me, again and again.” Her chin lifted. “I’m tired of dying. Maybe it’s your turn now.” She sent a line of flames right at him.
Cain lifted his hand. The fire stopped. He knew the red flames had filled his eyes when the woman staggered back. “You’re not the only one who’s tired of dying.”
Her lips trembled. Then she turned and ran from him. More screams echoed up the hallway. Yells. Growls. Snarls.
Wyatt’s “subjects” were loose. And from the sound of things, they were tearing down the place. Good. He hoped they ripped it all apart, brick by freaking brick.
As he watched the phoenix flee, Cain saw a dark shadow step away from the wall. Ryder. The vampire lunged forward and grabbed the woman, pulling her against him.
He got blasted with fire for that little move. Before Ryder could grab her again, a roar shook the hallway.
Trace burst from the stairwell. His claws slashed across Ryder’s neck and the vampire’s blood flowed.
Hell. Cain hadn’t wanted to kill that werewolf. He knew Eve wouldn’t forgive his death easily, even though the bastard had hurt her.
Trace turned to look at Cain. Bared his fangs and rushed toward him.
No, he hadn’t wanted to kill him . . .
But it looks like I don’t have a choice.
“ In . . . jection . . .”
Eve frowned down at Wyatt. His chest was wheezing, his breath barely choking out. It looked like his body was trying to heal, but she wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to come back from . . . this.
The sight of his body had nausea rolling in her stomach. Even after all he’d done, she hated to see him suffering like this. She hated to see anyone suffer.
“Wasn’t . . . always . . .” Wyatt’s eyes squeezed closed. “Like . . . this . . .”
She heard screams from outside.
Wyatt’s breath whispered out. “They’re . . . free . . .”
Who was? The supernaturals he’d caged and then played God with?
“Father . . . changed . . . me . . .”
Eve had to lean close to hear his words. But she wasn’t stupid. She kept that gun pressed to his temple.
“Only . . . six. He made me . . .”
More burns and blisters faded. The savaged skin lightened.
She realized that Wyatt was part of the Genesis experiments, too. Another lab rat, one who’d been brought into the program by his own father.
“I hope that bastard’s rotting in a grave somewhere.” The words burst from her. To experiment on his own child? Talk about being a monster.
“He’s . . . not. Wants the world to think so . . . just pulling the damn strings . . .”
Eve’s blood iced.
Wyatt’s cracked lips formed a twisted smile. “Who do you . . . think . . . funded . . . Genesis?” Blood bubbled from his lips.
Eve frowned at him. His skin might be healing, but the guy sure seemed to be close to death.
“Need . . . injection!” His body shuddered. “Give it . . . to me . . .” He tried to point behind her, to his desk, but his hand fell back limply to the floor.
“I’m supposed to help you?” Eve asked, throat desert dry. But the truth was . . . hadn’t she already? She’d stopped Cain. “After everything you’ve done?”
Wyatt couldn’t talk any longer. It looked like he was having a seizure. Blood dripped from his lips. His eyes had rolled back into his head, and he shuddered, jerking convulsively.
“Dammit!” Eve jumped to her feet. “If I do this, you’d better tell me how to save Trace, got that? You’d better—”
She spun away and started searching through the desk drawers. Just paperwork in the top drawers. Files in the second. In the third . . .
Two syringes. One with a green label. One with a red. “Which one?” she demanded.
Eve swung back around and saw that Wyatt was on his feet. Not convulsing any longer. Not bleeding from the mouth.
An act. A very, very good one.
She dropped the syringes and lifted her gun. “Nice try, asshole.”
A roar echoed through the room. Eve tensed. There were more screams. More yells.
“Sounds like Trace is here,” Wyatt said with a little nod. Was he weaving on his feet? Maybe he hadn’t been acting after all. “Now we’ll have a real bloodbath.”
“Is that what you want?” she demanded. “More death? For more people to suffer?”
He stared back at her.
“Weren’t you ever human?” Eve threw at him.
He shook his head. “That part of me died a long time ago . . . when a boy was tossed into a pit of vampires and left alone in the dark.”
He’d been tossed into that pit? The same way he’d dropped
her and Cain into that hell? Her fingers wanted to tremble, but she tried to keep her grip steady on the gun. “Yeah, well, every part of you is about to die unless you tell me how to fix Trace.” Fire hadn’t worked—but it had sure come close to killing Wyatt. Another few minutes, and the guy would have been ash. The bullets had made him bleed when they’d hit his chest. He’d just healed too fast for the bullet wounds to slow him down. But maybe if she just aimed somewhere else, a more vulnerable spot . . .
Eve lifted the gun and aimed at his forehead. Wyatt tensed, and she saw the fear flash across his face. “Tell me how to fix him.”
More roars. Eve swallowed. “Tell me!”
“There is no fixing him. He’s only beast now. Not man. He knows only hunting and killing. There’s nothing more for him. To him. He’s a failed experiment.”
“So are you,” she whispered.
His body stiffened. “I’m not a failure. I’m the best experiment my father ever created.”
Did the guy even hear what he was saying?
Wyatt kept talking. “I’m human, with the strength of a shifter, the healing ability of a demon, and the speed”—he moved in a blur, coming right in front of her—“of a fucking vampire.”
He reached for her. But Eve had her gun dead center against his forehead. “Unfortunately for you,” she whispered, “I know how to kill them all.”
He grabbed for the gun.
I’m sorry, Trace.
Eve pulled the trigger.
The thunder of the gun froze Cain. He tossed the werewolf aside and raced back down the hallway. “Eve!”
He couldn’t hear anything from Wyatt’s office. Just silence. Thick and dark and total.
He shoved aside the remains of the door. Saw Eve and breathed again. She was standing near Wyatt’s desk, holding a gun. Wyatt was on the ground with a giant hole in his forehead. A pool of blood was forming around his body.
“Want to hand me a piece of that wood?” Eve asked, inclining her head toward Cain and the smashed chair near his feet. “As a precaution, I really think we need to stake this bastard.”
He grabbed the wood and tossed it lightly in his hand. Rushing forward, he shoved the stake into Wyatt’s chest. The not-so-good doctor didn’t move.