by Cynthia Eden
He kissed her again. “Let me fight this one. You keep working on your cure.”
He did not want her facing Jon again. That man had hurt her, tracked her—that guy deserved a beat down.
Or a burn down.
But then Dante heard a scream. A long, terror and pain filled cry.
Cassie’s breath caught. “Is that . . . Jamie?”
He’d left the kid in his room. He’d made sure he was safe.
Cassie ran for the doors.
“I’m done waiting!” Jon shouted at the same instant. “Charlie boy is dying now, and that death is on you!”
Dante caught Cassie’s shoulders. “Find Jamie,” he told her as he felt a tremble ripple through her body. “Make sure he’s all right. I’ve got the bastard upstairs.”
She nodded quickly, then she was running down the hallway.
Dante waited until she vanished then he headed for the elevator. He’d heard the deal that Cassie had made with Jon. She’d been going to exchange her life for Charles’s.
He wondered just what kind of deal Jon would offer him. Not that it mattered.
Death was all the bastard would get.
Vaughn was loose.
Cassie stared at the open door to the vampire’s cell, her heart thundering in her chest. The door should have been sealed.
A keycard had been tossed on the floor. Charles’s keycard. And that had been Jamie’s scream. It had come from that room, she was sure of it.
Jamie had gone after the vampire again.
“Help . . .”
Cassie rushed inside. She didn’t have any weapons with her, no drugs at all, but she couldn’t leave Jamie in there alone, because that was his voice whispering for help.
And there he was. Curled into a fetal position near the far wall, with blood around him. Jamie was hunched, rocking back and forth, whispering, “Help . . .”
Her heart ached as she ran to him. “Jamie. Jamie, I’m here!”
But where was Vaughn? She didn’t see him anywhere. Had he gotten out after attacking Jamie?
When she touched Jamie, he screamed and tried to leap back. “Get away! Get away! I’ll kill you!”
“No, it’s not Vaughn. It’s me.” She tried to make her voice soothing. Dante kept saying she had power with her voice, she could sure use some of that power right then. “It’s Cassie. I’m here to help you.”
Tears leaked down his cheeks. “There’s no way to help me.” His breath sawed from his lungs. “H-he bit me.”
The primal virus.
She grabbed Jamie’s arm. “Come with me to the lab, now.”
“I’m dead! I’m dead!” He jerked away from her and bent to grab a chunk of wood. Then he was back, his hands shaking, as he grabbed her fingers and curled them around the wood. “Don’t let me change.” He brought her fingers—and the stake—up over his heart. “I don’t wanna change. I don’t wanna be . . . like that.”
He was surprisingly strong, and she had to yank with all her might to get that stake away from him. “No!” Cassie yelled because he wasn’t listening to her. He was trying to die right in front of her.
But at her yell, Jamie stilled.
“There’s time.” Those words were a lie. He already had the virus in him. “Come to my lab.” She’d never had a sample from someone so newly exposed. Maybe there was something she could do. Maybe. Please. “Come with me.”
“Promise . . . first. Kill me if . . .”
She wasn’t making that promise. “Come with me.”
He nodded.
She didn’t drop the stake. Vaughn was out there. Somewhere. Cassie didn’t know what he might do, and she had to keep some kind of weapon ready.
They raced down the hallways, their footsteps pounding as the alarm kept blasting. Jamie’s blood made a trail behind them.
There was no sign of Vaughn. Yet.
At the lab, she pushed open the doors and they ran inside. Cassie grabbed a syringe and took some of Jamie’s blood.
Then she got to work, checking the sample, using her microscope—
The cells were already changing. Mutating so quickly.
“How is it?” Jamie whispered.
“It’s going to be fine,” she told him, her voice wooden. “Just . . . give me a few minutes.”
The cure was in her blood, but she didn’t know how to get out the poison. He was changing into a vampire right then, and her blood was poison to vampires—
Cassie stilled.
He hadn’t changed fully, not yet.
Jamie was still human. Primarily. But every second that passed would change that fact.
Her blood wouldn’t kill him as long as he was human. But when the change was complete . . .
Cassie whirled toward him. “Jamie, I want you to trust me.”
His eyes were wild and desperate. “I . . . feel it . . . inside . . .”
“Trust me, Jamie.”
He gave her a slow nod. “What do I have to do?”
“Take my blood.” If she was right on this, her blood would either cure him.
Or it would kill him.
Dante was ready when the elevator doors slid open. Jon had whirled toward him in surprise. Had the fool really expected Cassie to come up?
Dante didn’t waste time. He lunged forward and snapped Jon’s neck before the man could do more than send tendrils of smoke from his fingertips.
Jon’s eyes were wide with shock as he fell to the ground.
Jon’s men immediately started shouting and aimed their guns at him. Yes, it was what he’d expected, too.
The bullets sank into Dante’s chest.
One bullet hit Charles. Sent the man’s blood spattering into the air. Charles was yelling, trying to grab for Dante.
It all happened in just a few seconds’ time. The elevator doors hadn’t even shut yet . . .
Not yet.
Dante grabbed Charles and threw him past those open elevator doors.
More bullets hit then, driving into Dante’s back. His legs stopped working, and he fell to the ground.
The doors shut.
He knew death was close. “Get the fuck . . . back . . .” Dante snarled, and he sent his fire racing toward the men with guns.
Their weapons melted. They got the fuck back.
He lifted his hand. Tried to reach for the elevator.
His blood smeared the panel.
His heart began to slow.
His body sagged. His gaze slid to Jon. Jon had died first. Would the bastard rise first, too? The phoenix who rose first would have the killing advantage. If Jon got to his feet, if the man got his power back first . . .
Dante’s breath stilled in his lungs.
“What just happened?” Jamie whispered. The boy was shaking from head to toe. He’d taken her blood. He’d been so scared, but he had taken it, and then his gaze had fallen on the security feeds.
She’d been caught by those feeds, too. Dante had killed Jon, but then . . .
Dante.
“Stay here!” Cassie ordered Jamie. He wasn’t stable, not by a long shot. She didn’t know what effect, if any, her blood was going to have on him. He hadn’t died right after taking it. That was a good sign, right?
As long as he didn’t have some kind of delayed reaction, he just might be all right.
Please, be all right.
She quickly disengaged the security system for the elevator. She needed it to rise and open easily from the inside and outside—in case she and Dante got stuck out there. A few more clicks on the keyboard . . . There.
Her shoes slapped against the tile as she ran for the elevator. The doors had already opened. Charles stood there, eyes glassy, blood dripping down his arm. “C-Cassie?”
She grabbed him. Pulled him out of that elevator even as she jumped on it. “Get to the lab! Watch out for Jamie!”
Charles shook his head. “What?”
“He was bitten. I gave him my blood—”
The doors shut on her before she c
ould explain any more. Hopefully, there would be time for a full explanation later. Hurry. Hurry. The elevator seemed to take forever to move. And then . . .
The doors opened.
At first, she couldn’t even see through the smoke. It was too thick. Dark and heavy, it choked her as she jumped out of the elevator. “Dante!”
Where were the men with guns? Dante’s fire had blasted them back, but she knew they weren’t gone for good.
She tripped over something. Something heavy and still. She reached down, searching, and felt the strong curve of a man’s shoulder. “Dante?” she whispered.
Over to the right, she finally saw something through the smoke.
She saw fresh flames quivering to life.
Jon was rising.
He was rising, but Dante was . . . still beneath her touch.
No. She grabbed Dante’s arms and started dragging him back toward that elevator. They’d get down to the lower floor, then he could heal. All she had to do was buy him some time. Just a little time.
When he rose, would he even remember her?
Coughing, choking on that smoke, she made it to the elevator. Dante weighed a ton, but she wasn’t about to let him go.
The flames were burning brighter, and Dante’s arms . . . had started to feel warmer beneath her hands.
He was coming back to her.
He just needed to hurry the hell up. Or rather, hurry out of hell. She punched in her code at the elevator’s security panel. The elevator door slid open and she started to drag Dante inside.
“Shoot her! Don’t let her leave!” A woman’s voice, cutting through the smoke.
More gunfire erupted. Blasting. A bullet whipped right by Cassie, burning her cheek. But then—
Something lunged out of those open elevator doors.
No, not quite something . . .
Someone.
She caught the wild, woodsy scent. Trace. He’d gotten loose—everyone was loose—and he was attacking.
Snarls and growls filled the air.
The woman screamed, a high-pitched, desperate sound.
More gunfire. Rat-a-tat.
Cassie kept the elevator door open. “Trace! Come back!”
Flames began to flicker over Dante’s body. She realized that if Trace came into that elevator with them . . . he’ll die. Dante might not hurt her when he rose, but Cassie had no clue what he’d do to a werewolf.
Heart racing, she looked up. She saw Trace’s glowing eyes. “Run,” she told him, focusing completely on the werewolf. “Get out of here. Don’t stop for anyone or anything. You find Eve’s scent. You follow it. You follow it!”
Did he even understand her at all? In that instant, with such wildness and fury in his stare, she wasn’t sure.
But then the werewolf leaped away. The elevator’s doors closed.
And the fire spread along Dante’s body.
She inched back, trying to flatten herself against the right wall. Dante was in the middle of the elevator, sprawled on the floor, and the flames were rising. Rising . . .
The doors opened, and she jumped out. The fire lanced over her skin. The flames crackled. Cassie opened up the control pad and did a fast and frantic override of the system. Now that they were back down below, she didn’t want that elevator going anywhere. And if the guys upstairs couldn’t get down through the elevator . . .
It will buy us time.
Time that she desperately needed.
She stared at Dante. Watched those flames burn. He’d be back to her soon. She just hoped he came back sane.
She’d seen a few of his risings during his time at Genesis when he hadn’t come back sane. She’d gotten lucky the last time he rose. He’d remembered her. If he didn’t remember her this time . . .
He could kill us all.
The first moments after a rising were the most dangerous.
She wanted to stay with him, but there were others in that place who needed her.
Cassie spun on her heel and rushed back to Jamie and Charles. She shoved against the doors to her work room, but the doors wouldn’t open. Her fist banged against them. “Charles! Charles, it’s me! Let me in!”
“Is the phoenix with you?” His voice broke with fear.
“No.” Not yet. “Hurry, open the door!”
She heard the slide of a bolt—the very large bolt that she’d never used but Charles sure seemed familiar with—and then the doors were opening. Breath heaving, she hurried into the lab. “How’s Jamie, is he—”
He was strapped to a table. Convulsing.
Her heart stopped. Her blood hadn’t worked.
It was killing him.
He knew only the fire. Consuming. Burning. Twisting. He could hear screams, but there were always screams in hell.
The fire of the phoenix came from the bowels of hell.
He felt hands on him, claws that tried to hold him back and stop him from rising.
But he had to rise.
Someone waited on him.
An enemy?
A lover?
Both.
The memories were there, just out of his grasp, burned by the fire that whispered to him. The fire that told him . . . he was strong. The others were weak.
He could destroy.
He could take.
He could do anything he wanted.
And still the fire burned. Burned and burned even as his eyes opened.
The flames had spread from him, scorching the floor beneath him and rising to lick at the walls and ceiling.
He climbed to his feet as his gaze swept around the area. No one else was there.
An alarm was shrieking—a loud cry that annoyed him. And water was shooting from the ceiling.
The water didn’t stop his fire. Nothing could stop it.
Then he looked down, past his flames. On the floor, he saw drops of blood.
He inhaled, caught the scent, and the phoenix that he was—the beast that had taken over—knew the hunt was starting.
The flames followed him as he went after his prey.
“His blood pressure is skyrocketing!” Cassie tried to hold Jamie down.
Poor Jamie—he was so young. So terribly young. His eyes were rolling back into his head, and a keening cry broke from his lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
But sorry wasn’t going to save him.
“What happened to the phoenix?” Charles asked. He was still by the door, seemingly frozen.
“He’s burning, rising.” She couldn’t deal with that, too. She gave Jamie an injection. “Come on. Don’t do this. Stay with me.”
“Rising?” Charles’s voice had sure, ah, risen too.
Then she heard him swearing.
The giant bolt—one that was the length of the swinging lab doors, slid into place. Locking them in.
Her gaze flew to him. Charles was shaking his head. “He’s not getting in. He’s not!”
Unfortunately for them, Cassie didn’t think that metal bar would be providing them with a whole lot of protection. When faced with a phoenix’s fire, the metal would melt.
Dante would get in.
One crisis at a time. She sucked in a deep breath and focused on Jamie once more. He wasn’t shaking anymore, and his blood pressure was slowly getting back within the normal range.
Hope began to whisper in her heart. Live.
Sweat coated his body as if a fever had just broken. She picked up his hands. Studied his nails. No claws. She opened his mouth. Regular teeth. No fangs.
She took some of his blood and rushed to her microscope. Eyes narrowing, Cassie stared down at the specimen.
His blood cells were—not normal, but . . .
Not primal.
The cells weren’t mutating into the primal form. In fact, they looked very similar to her own.
“Without the poison,” she whispered, prayed. If his blood was clear, if he could make antibodies for the virus that didn’t contain the poison of her blood, then they’d just
found the cure.
She was the one shaking.
“Do—do you smell smoke?” Charles asked as he hurried away from the door.
Yes, she did. Had been smelling it ever since she’d left Dante in that elevator.
“Jamie?” Cassie whispered. “Jamie, can you open your eyes for me?”
His breath sighed out.
“I-I can’t see anything on the monitors outside,” Charles said. “The smoke and fire are too thick.”
“Jamie?” Cassie fought to keep her own voice calm. “I need you to open your eyes. Look at me.” She’d seen other primal transformations, and, by this point, the victims already had their fangs and claws. The treatment was working.
Jamie’s lashes flickered. When his lashes lifted, she saw that his gaze was blurry. Lost. “Am I . . . dead?”
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “No, you’re very much alive.” Tears stung her eyes.
He stiffened and tried to shove her away. “No, he bit me, I—”
Cassie didn’t let him go. “You’re the same. No fangs. No claws.”
He shuddered against her. She eased back just a bit and hurriedly got the straps off him so he could sit up. Jamie stared down at his hands with stunned eyes, and then he reached up to touch his teeth. “How . . .”
“You did it,” she told him, unable to stop smiling. “Your blood—mixed with mine—you made the cure.”
He shook his head.
“We can stop the spread of the virus.” And, maybe, with a little more work, she might even be able to revert those who were already primals.
“Th-that smoke is getting thicker. It’s coming under the doors!”
Cassie’s head jerked up at Charles’s shout. He was right. Smoke was coming under the doors.
Where don’t you want to be when a brutal fire is coming toward you? Trapped underground, with no windows.
There was only one way out of her lab room—through that barred door.
She could hear the crackle of flames coming closer and closer.
Charles turned to her. “What are we going to do?”
Sweat trickled over her skin. It was getting so hot in that room. Too hot. The smoke was making Jamie cough. “We have to get out. The tunnel . . . It’s the only way.” They couldn’t go back up in that elevator. Fire waited in the elevator, above the elevator—and Jon had to be up there some place, too.