by Cynthia Eden
Eve held up her hand. “Wait. Where was the stake?”
Roberts picked up a manila folder and thumbed through the notes. “Next to Wyatt’s left hand.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms. “When I left him, that stake was in his heart.” She’d made sure of it.
Someone else had gone back in that room. Someone who’d taken the stake out—why? To try and help Wyatt?
She looked up and found Roberts staring at her. “Maybe the . . . Subject Thirteen that you mentioned? Perhaps he pulled the stake out?”
No, he’d been the one to shove it into Wyatt’s chest . . . but Eve had claimed responsibility for that desperate act. She knew Cain wanted his anonymity, and she was trying to give it to him. Trying to protect him, as much as I can. Eve shook her head. “Maybe a guard, maybe someone else . . .” She exhaled. What did it matter? Wyatt was still dead. Genesis was a pile of rubble. Uncle Sam was cleaning up the mess.
“I want to put protection on you.”
Eve stilled. After a heartbeat of time, her palms curled around the sides of her chair. “This protection had better not involve me being locked up someplace.”
“A safe house—”
Eve shook her head, cutting through his words. “No.” Simple, flat. “I’m finishing my story, I can’t—”
“Every media outlet in the country is running with your story.”
Yes, she knew it. And that was pretty damn awesome.
“While most humans are coming out as being on our side”—Roberts rolled his shoulders and the faint lines bracketing his mouth deepened—“there are others who still think we’re just monsters who need to be put down. Those guys aren’t going to like all this attention and support you’re raising.”
“And I’m supposed to do—what?” Eve asked him, lifting her brows. “Cower somewhere because I might get some threats? I was nearly killed—over and over—in the last few days. I’m tough, detective. I can handle whatever comes my way.”
“Like you handled Subject Thirteen?”
She hadn’t seen that hit coming.
Roberts cocked his head to the side. “We found more files on him in that lab, you know. Wyatt believed that Thirteen had a sociopathic personality and that he was an extreme menace to the human population.”
“Yeah, well, Wyatt was also a lying sack of—”
The door opened. Another detective stood there. A balding guy with tired brown eyes. “She’s clear. Her lawyer just raised hell with the captain. Bradley gets to walk out now.”
Perfect.
Roberts swore. “You need protection.”
Eve leaned toward him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The other detective turned away.
Eve wasn’t about to let this drop. “You found something else at that lab, didn’t you?”
A muscle jerked in Roberts’s jaw and he gave a grim nod.
“Tell me.”
“It’s confidential. Can’t be leaked to the press and you—you’re the most famous reporter in the whole state right now.”
She stared back at him. “This might shock the hell out of you, Detective, but I’ve managed to keep some secrets in my time.” But if he didn’t want to tell her what had him so all-fired determined that she needed guards, fine.
Eve pushed away from the table and headed for the door.
“Like you kept the wolf’s secrets?”
Her breath burned in her lungs. Eve didn’t go out that door. She slammed it shut then spun to face the detective. “What do you know about him?”
“I saw Wyatt’s files on him.”
And? What? Was she going to have to pull the truth from the detective?
“Wyatt was working on a drug that would amp up a shifter’s physical strength.”
Yeah, Trace had sure looked like he’d been amped up. His muscles had bulged.
“Wyatt didn’t want shifters to transform into animals in order to get that power boost.” Roberts’s voice was low. “He wanted them to have that power, twenty-four seven.”
Eve waited.
Roberts jerked a hand through his hair. “When he first started working with the werewolves, Wyatt used a mix of adrenaline and a drug called Lycan-69, some brew he’d made. It was supposed to blend the animal and man within the shifter. To always make them one.”
She remembered the way Trace had looked. Not just a man. Bigger. Stronger. With claws and fangs. But he hadn’t been able to shift into the form of a wolf, not even when he attacked her and Cain.
Because he couldn’t change?
“He’d given that dose to two other werewolves, but according to Wyatt, those test subjects had to be terminated.”
Terminated. “Why?”
“Because their beasts took over. They lost the ability to reason as men. They had only one desire—to hunt and to kill.”
Wyatt had better be burning in hell. “And he gave that same dose to Trace?”
Roberts shook his head. “He was adjusting his formula. Experimenting. Your wolf got Lycan-70.”
So maybe the results wouldn’t be the same. Maybe—
“Wyatt’s report indicated that within five minutes of injection, your friend Trace killed three guards. He couldn’t speak. Only growl and snarl. There was no sign of humanity in him. He was just . . .” Robert’s voice trailed off.
A monster? A wolf in the body of a man.
She swallowed and hoped she kept the emotion from her face. “So that’s why they had his body ready to be burned.” Wyatt had been attempting to cover up his failed experiment.
The detective gave a slow nod as his gaze seemed to weigh her. Those deceptive eyes of his had to be seeing far too much. “There’s a drugged werewolf out there, Ms. Bradley. One who only wants to kill. You sure that you feel safe being out in the open with him?”
She bared her teeth at him in a brittle smile. “Trace isn’t coming for me. If he’s functioning only on animal instinct, the last thing he is gonna do is follow me all the way to the city and—”
“I know a lot about animal instinct,” Roberts drawled. “Far more than most.”
She just bet he did.
“You said that he saw you when he woke up in that furnace room, that he tracked you up the stairs and to Wyatt’s office.”
She didn’t like where this was going.
“His animal had your scent, ma’am. The guy probably doesn’t know what the hell is happening to him, but he has your scent.” Roberts’s hands dropped to his sides. “So trust me when I say, that wolf isn’t gonna be forgetting you. Wolves don’t forget scents.”
No, they didn’t. “Thank you for the warning, Detective.” She turned away again and reached for the door.
He swore behind her. “You’re still refusing protection, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Because if she was surrounded by cops and Trace should happen to come for her, they’d kill him.
Maybe I can save him.
She opened the door and walked away from the detective. She could hear noise outside the precinct. Sounded like a roar. But it wasn’t an animal, not this time.
Her lawyer sidled over to her. “You ready for this?”
Of course, Janice would know exactly what waited for her. “Always,” Eve lied.
Two officers opened the front door of the precinct, and, for the first time in two weeks, Eve got a taste of freedom.
That freedom included being met by a swarm of reporters. Their voices blended together, roaring in her ears.
He followed her when she left the police station. He watched as she talked to the reporters. As she answered their endless questions with a tired smile.
There were shadows under her eyes.
He followed her to a news station. Eve didn’t know he was there. No one seemed to pay him any attention.
All eyes were on her.
Her voice was strong and certain as she talked about Genesis. About the supernaturals and the humans who’d lost their lives in experiments gone horribly wrong
.
She never glanced his way as the cameras rolled.
He knew she’d talked to government officials. The FBI had been with her for days. She’d cooperated with the agents. They’d helped get the charges against her dropped.
Justice could move swiftly in the paranormal world.
An escort took her back to her hotel. She slipped inside, wearing a ball cap over her head as she eased inside the elevator.
Just before the doors closed, he reached out his hand. The sensors reacted, and the doors slid back open.
He stepped into the elevator. They were alone. Finally, her eyes met his.
“Hello, Eve.”
“Cain.”
He hadn’t been able to stay away.
The doors closed with a ding, and the elevator began to rise.
She took a step forward, then stopped. “I didn’t—I didn’t expect to see you.”
He’d been desperate to see her. So damn desperate that if she hadn’t gotten out of that precinct today, he would have ripped the place apart to get to her.
“The cops kept you too long.” His fault. He’d let her go in alone. He lifted a hand and traced the shadows under her eyes.
Her smile seemed to squeeze his heart. “Considering the crimes I was wanted for, getting out this fast is pretty much a miracle.”
She seemed so delicate to him. He wanted to pull her into his arms but—
The elevator doors opened. Too soon. Cain spared a glance over his shoulder. “Get the next fucking ride.”
The guy wisely jumped back.
The doors slid closed, and Cain was alone with her again.
Eve shook her head. Did her lips lift into the faintest smile? He’d missed her smile. He’d missed . . . her.
“This isn’t smart, Cain,” Eve told him as her gaze held his. “I didn’t tell the cops your name, but they found videos of you at that lab. They know what you look like.” Her gaze searched his. “And I’m pretty sure the FBI is tailing me. They can get to you, through me.”
Because he was a threat. Always would be. Cain knew that.
He also knew just where all the FBI tails were. The guys were so obvious. They needed to work on that whole secrecy bit. The paranormals could help them out with that problem. No one did secrecy quite like paranormals, those who preferred to stay under the radar, anyway. We hadn’t all wanted the humans to know about us.
But there was no changing what had been done, thanks to a few asshole vamps.
Cain gazed back at Eve and asked, “Worried about me?”
“I got you out of one prison.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to have to drag your hide out of another.”
But she would. He knew that. He bent and brushed his lips over hers. How could she taste even sweeter than before? Her mouth was open. Her tongue slid over his. Soft. Sensuous.
“I dreamed about you.” His confession. When he’d slept, Cain hadn’t seen the fire. Not death. Just her.
He’d known that he had to go back to her.
Her hands pushed against his chest. “Did you find Trace?”
Cain shook his head. He’d gone back to Beaumont. Hunted in the woods. Came up with nothing. There had been no sign of the wolf.
The elevator was slowing as they reached Eve’s floor, but he didn’t let her go.
He wanted to keep her. Why the hell couldn’t he?
Mine.
She was the only thing that made him feel sane. Without her, he’d been . . . lost.
“You have to protect yourself,” she told him, pulling away.
Cain stepped toward the back wall of the elevator. When the doors opened, she was the one who exited, and he watched her leave.
She didn’t talk to him. Didn’t glance back. Probably too worried that others were watching. On this floor, they were. The FBI had four agents stationed on Eve’s floor.
But he had another way of getting to Eve. Without all the eyes seeing him. Night had fallen in the city. Night was his time.
Just as she was his.
Everything was gone. The research. The facilities. The funding.
His son.
Gone.
And that bitch was on the news. Spouting her nonsense about truth and torture. He could show her real torture.
The same way he’d shown her mother.
Jeremiah stared at the TV screen. He knew Eve Bradley’s face so well. It was the face he’d seen on the video at the Beaumont facility, the video that showed his son’s last, desperate moments.
Eve had shot Richard in the head, then she’d ordered her lover to stake him.
Did she actually think there would be no punishment for her crime? The police had let her go. Just let the woman walk away.
Jeremiah wouldn’t make the same mistake.
He already knew where she was. And where Eve was . . . the phoenix would be close by.
A phoenix could never stay away from his mate. The need to see her, the yearning, would be too much.
Eve had been sequestered by the police for days. That time must have driven the phoenix crazy. He’d be willing to risk anything to get close to her again.
Jeremiah smiled. He might not be able to kill the phoenix—damn immortal beast—but he could sure take care of the woman.
And without her, the phoenix’s life wouldn’t be worth living.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eve was in bed when she heard the rap on her balcony door. She sat up, heart racing, sure that she must be dreaming. Then the rap came again.
She was on the fourteenth floor. How the hell could someone be knocking at her balcony door?
Sucking in a deep gulp of air, Eve grabbed for her gun. Yeah, she had one. Courtesy of her lawyer. She was also more than ready to use the weapon if she needed to do so.
A late-night visitor, one who came by way of the balcony . . .
“Eve.” Just her name, but she knew that voice.
Eve put the gun back on the nightstand and hurried across the room. Before she could reach for the lock, the balcony door slid open.
Cain stood there, his hair wet from the light rain that had begun to fall.
Eve shook her head. How had the guy gotten out there?
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
Wait. Did he smile? He did.
“So I knocked first.”
Fourteenth freaking floor. “How did you get out here?”
Cain glanced up with raised brows.
Oh no, the guy had better not be telling her that he’d just dropped from the floor above her. But that wicked smile on his lips said . . .
Eve grabbed his arm and yanked him fully inside her room. “You’re crazy!”
His eyes flickered. “Yes.”
Not exactly the response she’d expected. Eve backed away from him.
“I should probably be staying the hell away from you,” he said, his voice low and growling, “but I can’t.” His gaze raked her. “Sometimes, I feel like I need you more than I need fucking air.”
The words were dark. No, he was dark. A big, dangerous shadow who stalked her across the room.
Eve was too conscious of the rumpled bed that waited behind her—and of her own need. Whenever Cain was around, she needed.
“I can’t leave you again.” The words held a ragged edge. “I think you might be the only thing keeping me sane.”
That scared the hell out of her. But when he advanced on her, Eve didn’t retreat. Not that time. She put her hand on his chest. “What happens to you?”
His head tilted to the side. His body was warm. So big.
Fire.
“When you burn, Cain, what happens?” She’d wanted to ask before, but now nothing held her back. She wanted to know everything about him. Good. Bad.
Just as he knew everything about her.
His gaze slid over her and she felt it like a touch of his hands. “There are some things that you’re better off not knowing.”
Not this. “Where do you go?” The twist in her gu
t already told her.
“Hell.”
The shake of her head was an instinctive denial. Not him. No.
“The flames from hell are the only ones strong enough to bring me back. So I die, the beast within me flies to hell, then that fire gives me the strength to come back.”
“What is—” It like?
“More pain that you can ever imagine. Screams that don’t stop. Agony that rips me apart.”
He did this every time he burned? His heart pounded in a strong, steady beat beneath her fingertips. “Is that why, when you come back, you don’t seem to know me?” She hated when he looked at her with only fury and fire in his eyes.
Just as she hated that Trace’s eyes now showed only the beast.
As Cain stared at her, there was a tenderness in his gaze. A sadness. “Sometimes, I don’t know my own damn self. I only know hate. Fury. The fire.”
He was . . . darker each time. She’d felt that darkness growing.
“I have to fight to find myself again.” He exhaled slowly. “But the last time, the last two times, I knew you when I came back. Not your name, just . . . you.”
Eve wasn’t sure what that meant.
“You kept me in control.”
Uh-oh. That had been control? If that had been a controlled Cain, Eve didn’t want to see him without his restraint.
“Because you’re mine.”
Her heart lurched at that. “Cain . . .”
He stood before her. The back of her knees hit the bed.
“I climbed out of hell for you. To come back to you. When I rose, I wanted to kill everyone around me—anyone who stood between us.” His words were so fierce. “I’m not . . . safe, Eve. I’ve known that my whole life. Each time I die, I always know I could be a rising away from insanity. From not ever remembering who I am and letting the beast loose to kill and burn.”
“You haven’t hurt me.” He hadn’t. Not even when he’d been in that cage at Genesis. Subject Thirteen. The man with the wild eyes and the leashed power.
“I can’t.” The words seemed dragged from him. “I need you too much. If anything happened to you . . .”
Eve tilted her head back. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” They were safe now. The big, bad beast that was Genesis was gone.