Playing With Fire (21 page)

“No,” Cain said. “Eve is in the lab.”

With Cassie and the werewolf.
“Why would you let her be near the wolf?”

“Because that wolf was her best friend once, and I owe him. I'll do anything I can in order to make him better.”

Again, surprising Dante.

“Would you even give up a phoenix's tears?”

“I'd give up anything to make Eve happy.” Said simply and without any hesitation.

Dante frowned at him.

“Now, are we going to rip each other to pieces or what?” Cain asked, sounding bored. “Because I need to get back to Eve's side.”

Dante wanted to get back to Cassie's side. Except, she'd imprisoned him.

Cain slanted him an accessing gaze. “You hurt her, you know.”

“I did not touch your Eve—”

“No, not Eve. Your Cassie. You hurt her.” Cain gave a quick shake of his head. “Not physically, but inside, maybe where the pain can be the worst. Especially for someone like her.”

Despite what Cassie had said earlier, Dante realized that Cain knew
exactly
what she was. “Do you hear her song? When she speaks, do you—”

“The power rarely slips into her voice. It's like she's not aware of it.”

Because she wasn't.

“When she gets stressed or nervous, it comes through.” Cain paused. “It was damn powerful when she was up on the surface and trying to soothe Trace.”

Yes, it had been.

“I'd heard stories about her kind,” Cain said, “but I'd never met one, not until her. It took me a while to realize what was happening.”

That was a siren's power. Before you knew what she was doing, you were already under the spell of her song.

“Is it true that a siren can make you feel the same emotion she feels? When she's happy, her words make you happy, and when she's sad . . . she can gut you?” Cain asked.

“Yes.” The word sighed from Dante.

Cassie was sad. That would explain why Dante felt like someone had shoved a knife into his stomach, and twisted it.

“You aren't going for my throat,” Cain pointed out as he rolled his shoulders. “Are you waiting for me to make the first move?”

“I killed my own brother,” Dante began.

“Uh, yeah. I heard rumors about that bit . . .”

Dante's jaw tightened. “But only after he came at
me
. I will do you . . . the same courtesy.”
For Cassie. Because the phoenix held value to her. Because I broke her trust.
He'd acted on instinct and was afraid that act might have cost him something precious. “You can live, until the moment you come at me with death in your eyes.”

Surprise flickered over Cain's face. “I don't want your death. We work for the cure, then we go our own separate ways. You won't see me again, and I
won't
see you.”

Cain also understood how dangerous phoenixes were to their own kind.

“You've killed other phoenixes,” Dante said.

“Some don't want to listen to reason. They attack first, without waiting to see if an enemy is really at their door.”

Ah, yes, he saw that hit for exactly what it was.

“Some let their beasts rule them.” Cain's stare was hard. “Do you rule your beast? Or does he rule you?”

“It depends on the day.”

Cain blinked.

Dante strolled by him. He was ready to ditch that cell. He needed to find Cassie. They had to talk. Had to clear the air between them.

I might have to grovel some.
Humiliating, but he'd try it, for her.

Cain had conveniently left the door unlocked. Another point in the fellow's favor. If Dante weren't so worried about dying by the man's hand, he might—

Cassie's blood.

There was no mistaking the scent. No mistaking
her.
He whirled back around to face the other phoenix.
“What have you done?”
Tricked him, kept him busy—while Cassie suffered?

Cain shook his head. “I didn't—”

Dante locked him in the cell and raced toward that scent. With every frantic footstep, the scent deepened.

He shoved open the doors to the lab.

Eve jumped up, yelping. She had on latex gloves—gloves that were stained with Cassie's blood.

“You . . .”
Dante began as he closed in on her.

“Stop.” Cassie's voice. Weak but steady. “I . . . asked her to do it.”

She was on the exam table. So pale.

“You said . . . I cured myself. Have to find out . . .
how.
”

Eve had backed up a step. “She wanted me to do this. I didn't like the plan, but Cassie said—”

“It has to . . . be done.”

He crossed to Cassie. Took her hand. Held tight.

“How are you . . . here?” She didn't pull away from him.

Maybe she was in too much pain to pull away. Maybe he was using a weak moment for her. Dante didn't care. He was touching her again. Holding tight to her.

“How are you . . . here?”
Cassie asked again as she blinked up at him.

“Cain let me out.”

Uh, yeah, and Dante had locked Cain
in.
They'd cover that part, later.

Eve inhaled sharply.

“He's . . . alive?” Cassie asked.

“We came to an agreement.” Dante frowned down at her. “How much more has to be done?”

Her smile was weak. “Don't watch, if you . . . don't want.”

“I thought you were going to use me. I thought I was the cure you needed.”

“Have to hurry . . . every day that passes . . . someone else . . .”

Someone else could be transformed into a primal. Someone else could die, like Jamie's brother.

“Testing me, testing . . . you . . .” Cassie whispered. “Maybe together—”

“We can find a cure,” Eve said quietly. She bit her lip. “Should I wait? Should I—”

“Finish,” Cassie said quietly. “Please.”

He
hated
seeing her like that. But if it was what she needed to do . . .

He held tight to her hand. “Look at me.”

Her gaze found his.

“I won't let you down again.”

“No more . . . closets?”

He shook his head.

“Don't . . . believe you . . .”

The ache was back in his chest. “Then I'll just have to prove myself to you.” He could.

He
would.

Eve went back to work, and Dante never took his gaze off Cassie's face.

 

Charles Trenton hurried away from the lab that he'd called home for the last six months of his life. He'd wanted to help Cassie. To make the world safer. Better.

So that no one would end up like Kerri.

Only . . .

He hadn't counted on monsters who could conjure fire or werewolves that tore down doors to get to him.

It was too much.

He was too weak.

He'd always known that Kerri was the strong one. Always Kerri. But she'd been broken . . . and had taken her own life when the experiments got to be too much for her.

I told Genesis about her.
That was his secret shame. He'd been the one to first alert Genesis to his half-sister's condition.

Because he'd known that Kerri had always wanted to be normal.

He'd given up his own sister to that hell.

When he'd lost her, he'd wanted to atone. He and Cassie had that in common. The sins of the past often choked them.

He gunned his car's engine and shot out into the night. The car had been hidden in the old shack down the road, out of sight. Safe and secure.

He hadn't told Cassie that he was leaving. He hadn't been able to look her in the eyes—

Not the strong one.

Maybe . . . maybe he'd be able to go back after a few days. Maybe he'd be able to face what waited in Cassie's lab.

His headlights cut through the dark.

Maybe not.

For now, he was just going home. A little town that waited just across the state line in Louisiana. A speck on the map that didn't have monsters or nightmares.

He hoped.

W
hen Cassie opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was . . . Dante. He was leaning over her, frowning.

“What have you . . . done now?” Hopefully not attacked Cain again. Or, jeez, not Eve.

“I've stayed by your bedside.” His words were soft. “Waiting for you to wake up.”

That wasn't what she'd thought to hear. Cassie slowly sat up. “Cain? Eve? They're both still—”

“Alive, yes. Eve, ah, freed her lover, and they're resting somewhere in the lab.” Dante's fingers slid over her body. “And you're all healed. Quite amazing.”

She didn't feel so amazing. Actually, she felt like she'd been hit by a truck. But there was work to do. “I need to start analyzing the results.”

He brought her hand to his lips. Kissed her knuckles.

Her heart beat a little faster.

“I'm sorry for attacking your friend.”

She was suspicious. “Is this the part where you think we're gonna kiss and make up?”
Not happening, buddy.

One brow rose. “That sounds like a good option.”

She shoved against his chest. “Think again. You
used
me.” She was on her feet. Her first step was a bit wobbly, but by her third, she was in charge of her knees again. “I'm not going to forget that. You knew I trusted you, and you used that trust against me. You—”

“You're the only person who has truly trusted me in centuries.” Dante had risen to his feet, too. “I didn't realize . . . what it would be like when your trust was gone.”

“Yes, well, realize it now.” Her heart was doing a double-time beat then. “I have to work, okay, Dante? We almost lost Trace last night because
you
attacked him. He's stuck now in worse shape than he was before, and I have to figure out a way to heal him.”

Dante stared at her. Then he gave a grim nod. “You had your samples taken.”

“Yes.” She needed to analyze them and—

“Now take mine. Learn all my secrets.” He walked closer to her. “I offer them to you.”

Wait—
now
he was all about helping?

“Take my blood, my DNA, whatever you need. Take it.” He shook his head. “The others experimented on me for years, and they could not replicate my cure. If you cannot succeed in helping the werewolf—”

She couldn't think about failing. Couldn't.

“Then I will help you to . . . ease his suffering.”

Cassie stabbed her finger into his chest. “You are
not
killing Trace!” Why was everyone else so fast on the trigger when it came to killing? There were actually other options in the world.

“Sometimes killing is the kinder thing to do.”

“No! Give me time, dammit! Give. Me. Time.” Her breath huffed out of her chilled lungs. “I can do this.” She had to do this.

He headed toward the exam table. Sat on it as he had the night before. But he seemed different. “Run your tests,” he ordered. “Do whatever you have to do.”

He was . . . helping?

“And in the end, if you need me to do what I must, I will.”

Kill Trace.

“We're not at that point yet,” she whispered . . . and prayed that they never would be.

 

Evansville, Louisiana, was a speck on the map. If you blinked, you'd miss it.

That was why Charles loved the place. No crowds. No fast pace. Just the spot to vanish for a while.

He slowly drove down the old highway that led to his grandfather's farm. All of his family members were gone now, but the memories waited there for him and—

The farm was burning. He could see the thick, black smoke drifting in the air.

No!

Charles shoved the accelerator down to the floorboard and gunned the car. The little vehicle jumped and bumped its way down the old road until he brought it to a screeching stop before the farmhouse.

Or what was left of the place.

He climbed from the car and stared at the twisting flames. They'd gutted the farmhouse, and were reaching up for the sky, stretching and destroying
everything.

The only link he'd still had to his family. To Kerri.

Gone.

With shaking hands, Charles yanked out his cell phone. He had to get the fire department. Had to get some help—

“Well, well . . .”

The voice came from right behind him and had Charles stiffening. He hadn't heard any approaching footsteps. Just the crackle of those flames.

“I had hoped to find you inside, Charles, but when you weren't home, I got a little angry.”

He
knew
that voice. Carefully, Charles turned to face the man he'd once worked for.

Lieutenant Colonel Jon Abrams.

“What have you done, Jon?”

The man looked different. His smile was cold and hard and—

Charles crept toward him, then froze when he got a good look at Jon's eyes. There was a fire burning in Jon's eyes.
The gaze of a phoenix.

“You were always so tight like dear Cassie. Such good friends.” Jon took a long, stalking step toward him. “That friendship used to piss me off, just so you know.” He drove his fist into Charles's stomach, and Charles howled at the burning pain—and he burned. His shirt burned away and blisters sprang up on his stomach.

Charles staggered away. “J-Jon? What the hell?”

“Did Cassie know about your work with the female phoenix? Did you tell her about our little experiments?”

Charles shook his head. He'd barely worked on those experiments at all, just been backup to the others. He had
hated
the work, and he'd just wanted to help that poor woman escape from her prison.

“Guess what?” Jon came at him again, punching him in the face with that fist of fire. “The experiments worked.”

Charles screamed at the pain and hit the ground. There was nowhere for him to go. The flames were behind him. Jon stood in front of his car.

“Cassie was always so fond of you,” Jon said again. Then he knelt in front of Charles. “You know where she is, don't you?”

Charles didn't speak. He wouldn't risk Cassie. He could stay quiet. He could stay—

“I plan to burn my way to Cassie. I will destroy everyone and everything in my path.” Jon smiled at him.

The smile was that of a monster.

“You can either work with me, Charles, or you can burn right here.”

Terror nearly choked him The thought of holding back vanished. He'd never been the strong one.

“You know where Cassie is,” Jon muttered. “I
need
her.”

Cassie wasn't alone. She had two phoenixes with her—and a freaking werewolf. If Jon went after her . . .

They'll kill you, asshole.

Charles lowered his eyes. It would be okay to give Jon the information. Jon wouldn't hurt him anymore, and Cassie would be plenty safe with all of her monster guards.

“I-I know . . .”

“Good. Because you're going to take me to her.”

Charles nodded.

And they'll destroy you, Jon.
Charles hoped he had a front row seat for the show. The guy had always been a prick.

 

Her DNA was . . . wrong.

Cassie stared down at the test results. She'd known that her father had altered her, but this—

“Seeing what you are?” Dante asked softly from behind her.

She jumped, then swiveled her chair to face him. “I—there must be some mistake. I'll run the tests again.”

“There's no mistake.” He was adamant. “You aren't human, and you never were.” He wore only a pair of low-slung jeans. He'd ditched his shirt when she took her samples. He stalked slowly toward her. “You're a siren. Deal with it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don't see how—”

“Conjuring fire is instinctive for me.” His head tilted as he studied her. “I figured using your siren's song would be instinctive for you, but it isn't, is it?”

She licked her lips. “No, it isn't.”

Siren.

“You used the power in your voice when Trace was attacking up on the surface. You calmed him.”

“Is that what my voice does? It calms?”

Dante shook his head. “It can do a hell of a lot more. Get your pitch right. Use the power just right and—”

“You said that you couldn't trust me.” The words tumbled from her.

Dante stilled.

“Is it because of what my voice can do? If I use the pitch just right, do you think I'll get you to kill, the way the other siren did?”

“I think you're not like anyone I've ever met before.”

Cassie shook her head. “Dante, that's not—”

“A siren can compel. If she sings the right song, if she's strong enough, she can make anyone do anything she wants.”

“Do you think I'm strong enough?” She barely breathed the words.

He hesitated.

He doesn't.

“I've been thinking about this,” Dante said slowly. “You
should
know how to use your power, but you're a half-breed, so maybe it's not as strong with you. Maybe you can only pull up the power when you're scared or stressed.”

Wasn't that her usual way of life, twenty-four seven? She should be bursting with power.

“There's one more time it comes out.” He was close enough to touch her.

He did.

His hand lifted. His fingers brushed down her cheek. “It comes out when you're aroused. When the passion heats within you.”

Oh. Ah, okay.

“I felt your power when I was with you,” he whispered.

His head bent, and his lips brushed lightly over hers. “I want to feel it—
you—
again.”

The hunger for him, the lust that he could stir so effortlessly, wanted to rise once more within her. Wanting Dante had always been easy for her.

Pretty much as easy as breathing.

Loving him? So much harder.

He kissed her once more, his tongue licking lightly over her lips. He seemed to enjoy that little lick across her bottom lip.

She sure enjoyed it, too.

Then he pulled away.

“Do your work. Finish your tests. When you're ready for me”—his gaze heated—“come to me.”

He turned and walked away.

When the doors closed behind him, Cassie finally sucked in a deep breath.

 

“There aren't any antibodies,” Cassie whispered as she stared at the samples before her. When the primal virus was spread, the host didn't create any antibodies to fight off the disease.

Except . . .

She glanced at her own results. Her breath heaved out. “I
have
the antibodies!” Cassie jumped to her feet. She had to synthesize them. That was going to be tricky. Her blood was poison to the vampires—both a poison and a cure. She had to get the poison out, but still use the antibodies that would help those who'd been infected.

All along, the cure had been right there. Right freaking there. She'd been bitten by a primal, and she hadn't changed. She'd thought the poison in her blood stopped the change. But no, it was so much more than that.

She
was the cure.

Jon had actually been right.
It's me.

She might not be able to help Trace yet, but she could help Vaughn . . . soon. So very soon.

She just had to get the poison out first. Get the poison out, and then she'd have the cure they needed.

Hope grew inside her, and it felt so good. Incredible. No more lives lost to the primal virus. No.
More.

The doors to the lab flew open.

She spun around, heart racing. “I've almost got—”

Eve was there, looking grim.

“What's wrong?”

“I was watching the security monitors in the outer room. We've got company coming.”

Company?
“The last phoenix? Is she already—”

“No, it's not Sabine.”

Cassie knew Eve had become well acquainted with Sabine's story, especially since Sabine had once come after Cain.

Those phoenixes . . . always trying to kill each other.

“It looks like it's Charles,” Eve said, “but he isn't coming back alone.”

Cassie headed for her own security monitors. Pulled up the feed.

There was Charles—she saw him climb from a black SUV. There was Charles and—

“Impossible,” she whispered.

That could
not
be Jon Abrams exiting the vehicle and coming to stand next to him.

She leaned closer.

The same blond hair. The same hard jaw. The same hawkish nose.

She was staring at a ghost. “He's dead. I saw Jon Abrams die!”

“The guy doesn't look dead to me,” Eve muttered.

“I shot him.” He'd fallen. He'd been
dead,
hadn't he? It wasn't like she could have mistaken a living man and a dead guy.

Jon shoved Charles toward the hidden entrance, except it wasn't an entrance that was hidden any longer. Charles was walking the guy right up to the supposed-to-be-secret facility.

“Charles knows the code to get inside,” Cassie whispered. She counted at least ten armed men with Jon.

If those men got inside . . .

She slammed down the button for the alarm before Charles could reach the key pad. When the alarm was activated, the whole security system went into high alert.

Normal codes were ignored.
I'm sorry, Charles. I can't let them in.

She knew what Jon would do.

Her fingers frantically flew over the keyboard as she typed in her password, making damn sure that no one would be able to override the system. As long as the alarm mode was set, Jon wouldn't get in.

But those inside also wouldn't get out.

The doors banged again. “What the hell is happening?” Dante demanded.