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Playing With Fire

Page 19

by Cynthia Eden


  The phoenixes in his village had turned on one another, battling in a fury of bloodlust and fire.

  Until only one remained . . .

  Because of the siren.

  Cassie didn’t realize that she was the danger that would destroy so many. He knew what powers she held inside. He’d known from the beginning.

  Maybe he should have just killed her, but that act had always been beyond him. She made him weak.

  Just as Zura had made his brother weak.

  It doesn’t have to be this way! We can be strong together.

  Hadn’t he tried to stop his brother? Hadn’t he tried to use reason before fire?

  Until there had been no reason left.

  Just flames.

  Wren hadn’t wanted them both to live. He hadn’t wanted them both to be stronger.

  I’ll be stronger on my own. Wren had told him those cold words, even as his fire burned hell-hot. And I’ll never fear you turning on me.

  The elevator’s doors opened. Eve stepped toward those doors then stopped. “Trace?”

  The wild scent of the wolf hit Dante. Impossible. The werewolf is chained below. He is—

  The werewolf shoved something, someone—the human, Charles, a very bloody Charles—onto the ground and leaped out of that elevator. He looked different, far more savage and animal-like, as he lunged for Cassie.

  “No!” The bellow was Dante’s. But he was too far away.

  The werewolf hit Cassie and Cain, sending both tumbling to the ground. Cain’s weapon fired, the bullet exploding, and Eve screamed.

  The wolf didn’t stop. He grabbed Cassie and yanked her back.

  Dante attacked. He lifted his hands, conjuring the most powerful fire he had within him. The werewolf wouldn’t survive the blast. Cassie had thought to save this beast? There was no saving a being that thought to hurt her.

  No saving . . .

  Dante’s fire launched out.

  The beast dropped Cassie and rushed toward Cain, moving so fast—incredibly fast—as he dodged the flames. The fire barely singed him. The werewolf ’s claws swiped over the other phoenix, cutting him deep. Cain swore and fire swirled over his fingers.

  Eve grabbed his arm. “That’s Trace!”

  “That’s a fucking dead wolf,” Dante shouted. Cassie was bleeding. The wolf ’s claws had cut her and the wolf was—

  “Help . . .” That cry was more beast than man. Far more. “Help . . . Cass . . .” the werewolf growled. Then he was curling his powerful body around hers.

  Dante stepped toward them.

  The werewolf bared his teeth. “Kill . . .”

  His claws weren’t near her throat. He had wrapped his arms around Cassie’s stomach.

  “The change is . . . even worse,” Eve whispered. “I thought he was getting better.”

  The wolf had looked better. Before.

  He seemed to be turning more into the beast as Dante watched. Thick, dark fur burst from his skin, and the werewolf opened his mouth to snarl with the pain of his change.

  “Trace.” Cassie tried to push free of his hold. “Trace, you’re hurting me.”

  The phoenix within Dante began to attack with his flaming claws. Wanting out.

  Trace stiffened.

  “Let me go, Trace. Please.”

  Trace shook his head. The transformation seemed to have halted with Cassie’s words.

  The siren’s song is controlling him. Dante stalked toward Trace.

  “Help”—Trace growled—“Cass . . .”

  Dante took another step.

  Trace’s head snapped up and his glowing eyes locked on Dante. “Kill.” The werewolf ’s teeth snapped together.

  “Come on and try,” Dante invited. “Let’s just see what you’ve got.”

  Trace freed Cassie.

  Yes.

  Then the beast was running for him.

  Dante lifted his hand and sent flames right at the beast.

  “No!” Cassie screamed as she ran after Trace.

  The man-beast fell, rolling on the ground and howling as he tried to put out the flames that flared over his body.

  “Stop!” Cassie shoved at Dante, sending him stumbling back in surprise. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t you see? He’s protecting me!”

  He was—what?

  Cassie shoved Dante again. “Stay away from him! From me!”

  He couldn’t. He couldn’t ever stay away from her.

  She fell to her knees beside the werewolf. Smoke drifted from him and dark burns covered his arms. “Trace?” she whispered.

  His head turned toward her. “Help . . .” he whispered.

  She put her hand on his bulging shoulder. “You did help me. Now just relax. Please relax, and let me help you.”

  The werewolf’s claws were too close to her. Dante stepped toward her.

  Cassie’s head immediately turned toward him. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Stay away! Haven’t you done enough hurting for one day?”

  She stared at him as if—as if he were the monster.

  He was, but Cassie had never looked at him that way before.

  “Cain, help me,” Cassie said.

  Cain, still bleeding, hurried toward her.

  “We need to get Trace downstairs. I have to treat him. He’s . . . changing. I can feel it.”

  Transformation was the way werewolves healed from injuries. It was instinctive for them. The wounds Trace had received from Dante’s fire were pushing that change.

  “If he changes fully,” Cassie said, shaking her head, “I don’t—I don’t know if we will be able to get him back. I have to give him some tranqs to get him calm and stable.”

  The werewolf wasn’t fighting. His head was tilted toward Cassie, and the beast seemed to hang onto her every word.

  Siren.

  “It’s okay,” Cassie soothed him. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Dante heard the special, almost lyrical notes in her voice that a siren got only when she charmed.

  The werewolf ’s breathing eased.

  Cain was close to them. He frowned down at Cassie and blinked a few times.

  Yeah, you heard it, too.

  “Will he make it?” Eve wanted to know. She’d helped Charles to his feet. The human was pale, scratched, but suffering no mortal wound.

  Dante knew her question was about Trace.

  “I hope so,” Cassie said, still using that same tone. The tone that calmed Dante’s phoenix, that had Cain looking confused . . . and had the wolf lying still beneath Cassie’s probing touch.

  And the woman claimed she wasn’t a siren?

  She had them all under her power.

  Once she realized just how strong she truly was, Cassie could prove to be incredibly dangerous.

  As dangerous as Zura, when she’d gone mad with her power.

  She turned us on each other. Made us fight until only ash was left.

  All with the power of her voice.

  The phoenixes had learned a lesson that day . . . stay away from their own kind. They weren’t immortal when their own were close enough to kill.

  It had taken just the whisper from a siren to start that war. “We have to get him to the lab,” Cassie said.

  Cain bent to reach for the werewolf ’s shoulders.

  Trace snapped at him, biting the phoenix and drawing a curse from Cain.

  “Trace, no!” Cassie commanded. “We’re helping you!”

  He stilled instantly.

  Cain frowned down at the beast. “If he bites me again, I’m kicking his ass.”

  “Cain.” Eve’s voice was worried.

  Dante grabbed the wolf before Cain could reach for him again. He slung Trace over his shoulder and ignored the claws that sliced into his skin.

  Cassie stared up at Dante with shocked eyes.

  “You want him back in his cell?”

  He was actually tossing another paranormal in a cell? After what he’d been through?

  But . . . yes, he was.

  “
Then lead the way,” Dante said.

  Cassie just stared blankly at him then shook her head. “Give him to Cain. I can’t trust you.”

  That ache was back in Dante’s chest. Worse.

  But he gave her a grim smile. “You have it wrong, sweetheart. We’re the ones who can’t trust you.” Not once she started to use her power. Not once she realized . . .

  She could control and kill with a word.

  Cain frowned at Cassie but his stare wasn’t exactly believing. He glanced back at Dante. “You going to try to kill me as soon as the elevator touches down?”

  “No. I’ll wait till we drop off the wolf.” Dante stared down Cain. “Then you and I will leave the others. There’s no sense in harming them.”

  “No!” Eve immediately yelled.

  Cain gave a grim nod.

  Cassie pushed her way on the elevator. “The hell you will. Dante, you aren’t hurting Cain. You aren’t hurting anyone.” She jabbed his arm.

  No, she jabbed a needle into his arm.

  An icy liquid shot through his body, chilling him, quenching the fire of the phoenix that always seemed to burn so brightly within him.

  The werewolf fell from his arms. Dante sagged back, hitting the elevator wall.

  “I won’t let you hurt anyone,” Cassie said, her voice breaking with pain.

  Pain that he had caused her?

  “I never wanted it to be this way.” Cassie’s voice was so soft and sad.

  He tried to turn his head and look at her, but couldn’t. His body slid down and crashed onto the floor of the elevator beside Trace.

  “You didn’t give me a choice.”

  “Damn.” Cain’s impressed drawl. “I didn’t expect you to be so cold, Cassie.”

  “Neither did he. And that was Dante’s mistake.”

  Deep inside, the flames of the phoenix died away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.” Cain dropped Dante’s body in the cell—a reinforced cell that Cassie had never used before.

  “I’ll deal with his anger,” Cassie said. And he could deal with hers. He’d been using her—all along. He’d never intended to help. He’d only wanted to kill.

  It felt like the jerk had carved out her heart. Or maybe he’d just burned it out of her chest with his damn fire.

  Cain glanced toward the chains. She saw his face tighten and knew he was remembering his own time with Genesis.

  “You putting him in those?” he asked, voice flat.

  “No.” She’d never thought she would actually be the one locking Dante up. But she’d thought wrong. “The room will be secure enough. It’s fireproof. He won’t be getting out unless we let him out.”

  Cain nodded.

  Cassie glanced down at Dante once more. His eyelashes cast dark shadows beneath his eyes. His face was still tense and hard, even when he was unconscious. As if he never let down his guard.

  Why? Why did you do this, Dante?

  She’d trusted him. In just a few moments time, he’d destroyed that trust. From sex to betrayal in five minutes flat. What girl was supposed to handle that?

  “We need to get back to Trace,” she said, squaring her shoulders. She’d drugged him already, dosing him with tranqs that had stopped his shift, but she still needed to treat the wounds on his body.

  She noticed that Cain made sure she exited and then he came out after her, swinging the heavy metal door shut behind them.

  And sealing Dante inside.

  Cassie lifted her chin and tried to act like Dante hadn’t just killed a part of her.

  If only she were a better actress.

  They went back to her lab. Eve was helping to patch up Charles. Poor Charles. The man looked shell-shocked.

  “Are you going to leave?” she asked him quietly.

  Charles had been Cassie’s assistant for so long. His half-sister had been a shifter, one who’d been taken into the Genesis program on a very much not voluntary basis. By the time Charles had found her, it had been too late. She’d been broken by what Genesis had done to her.

  Kerri had taken her own life.

  He’d wanted to work with Cassie, to help others like Kerri, but there was fear in his eyes now.

  “I think this is all too much for me,” Charles muttered. “I thought I could handle it, but the ones here are just too strong. Too dangerous.”

  Wasn’t that what Cassie’s father had told her? That some of the paranormals were too strong and dangerous? That they had to be put down for the protection of the humans? She hadn’t wanted to believe he could be right.

  And she hadn’t wanted to believe that Dante would betray her, either.

  “If you want to leave,” Cassie said, holding Charles’s gaze, “I understand.”

  Charles nodded. His gaze drifted away from hers, and she knew . . . Charles would be leaving soon. There was too much fear in his posture.

  And too much blood on his clothes.

  He’d come close to dying, and she knew that he didn’t want to join Kerri in death.

  Cassie glanced toward her operating table. Heavy metal strips closed over Trace’s arms, legs, and chest. A mask was over his face, and the drug that he was being given was designed to keep him out.

  Stable, comfortable, and definitely out.

  Charles shuffled out of the room. Cassie bit her lip and didn’t stop him. He had been her confidant, and because she liked him so much, she couldn’t stop him.

  If he wanted to walk away and forget monsters for a time, didn’t he deserve that chance?

  When the doors slid closed behind him, her shoulders hunched a bit.

  “What happened?” Eve asked as she crept closer to Cassie. “The last report that you sent said Trace was getting better.”

  “He was . . . ”

  “You also didn’t mention in that report,” Cain said, voice hard, “that you had a homicidal phoenix waiting to kill me.”

  She flinched. “I didn’t know. Dante said he would help me.”

  “He lied.”

  Yes, he had.

  “He’s the oldest phoenix I’ve ever met,” Cassie said as she rolled her shoulders, trying to push some of her tension away. “I thought his DNA would be the key I needed in order to find a cure—”

  Eve brushed her fingers across Trace’s forehead. “He’s not going to ever be the same, is he?”

  The same? “No, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still have a good life.”

  Eve nodded and kept caressing his forehead. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “I don’t understand how he got out.” Cassie glanced around the room and her gaze lit on the smashed remains of the closet.

  She’d been in that closet, calling for help. Screaming for help.

  The memory of Trace’s rough voice slipped through her mind. Help . . . Cass . . . She stilled. Was it even possible? No, no. Surely he hadn’t heard her—

  But his whole body had been enhanced by the Lycan-70 drug. That enhancement had made him bigger, stronger. Had it given him enhanced hearing and vision? Possible. So very possible.

  It had been hard to fully gauge his enhancements because his beast side had been so powerful.

  “He didn’t hurt me,” Cassie said softly. He’d tackled Cain because Cain had been holding the gun to her head. She frowned at Cain.

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Thanks for shoving the gun at me.”

  He flushed. “I was trying to do something to keep your attack phoenix off me!”

  But he hadn’t been able to stop Trace from attacking. Trace had sliced him and then Trace had come back and tried to shield Cassie.

  “How are your wounds?” Cassie asked Cain.

  “Hurting like a bitch,” he replied instantly. “But don’t worry. It’s nothing that will kill me.” His smile was bitter. “I’ve felt death coming too many times. The bastard isn’t here now.”

  Eve had already taken out some bandages for Cain. Once upon a time, she had done
a stint in med school. The woman would be able to patch up her lover, no problem.

  Patching up Trace? That would take much more of an effort.

  “He calmed down when you talked to him,” Eve said, nodding toward Trace. “Whatever was happening to him, he remembered your voice.”

  Your voice is your power. That was what Dante had told her. When you sing your siren’s song.

  She backed away from Trace. Turned slowly to face Cain. “Do you hear anything . . . odd . . . when I talk to you?”

  He frowned at her. Eve was cutting away his shirt. “Um, do I sound normal to you? Do I smell normal?” How bizarre is this conversation?

  Speaking of bizarre . . . she’d just broken up a fight between two phoenixes and a werewolf. Her world was nothing but a bizarre bonanza.

  Cain leaned toward her and inhaled deeply. “You smell . . . sweet.” He winced when Eve applied a bit too much pressure to his wound. “Not like you,” he hurried to reassure her. “Love, you know you smell like paradise and temptation. Every damn dream I’ve ever had.”

  She smiled at him.

  Cassie glanced away, feeling like an intruder just to have seen that intimate smile. “I-I knew it wasn’t true. I don’t know why he said—”

  “But . . . there is something about your voice,” Cain muttered.

  She tensed.

  “It makes me feel . . . calm.”

  Calm was the last thing she was feeling.

  Cain shrugged. “Maybe that’s what is supposed to happen, though, right? You’re a doctor. You soothe your patients.”

  Not all of them, she didn’t.

  Some, like Trace—she seemed to push to attack others. Swallowing back her growing fear, Cassie focused on Trace. She had to do the best she could to heal him and to stabilize his beast.

  Dante slowly opened his eyes. He was on his back on the hard floor, and a shining, silver ceiling waited above him.

  She drugged me.

  He surged to his feet, disbelief coursing through him as his gaze flew around the room. No, not a room. A holding cell. He recognized the silver metal that surrounded him. He’d seen it plenty in Genesis.

  Cassie had thrown him in a special, fire-proof cell. Just like the ones he’d been held in before.

  Not her.

  “Cassie!” He bellowed her name.

 

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