Burn For Me

CHAPTER TWELVE

When the bat came swinging at him again, Cain was ready. He caught the bat in his left hand. “Don’t fucking think so,” he said as he snatched the bat out of his attacker’s grip, ready to take a swing of his own.

“No!” Eve grabbed the bat. She tried—and failed—to pull it from his grip. “Don’t hurt her. We need her.”

He got a good look at his attacker. All five feet nothing of her. Deceptively delicate, the woman stood mostly in the shadows of the shop. Her eyes were dark and slanted, her skin a light mocha. Her hair was cut short, almost brutally so, as if she’d wanted to look tough.

The cut just made her look more … delicate.

“Who the hell is he, Eve?” the slugger asked, jutting up her pointed chin. “And why’d you trash my door?”

“Because you weren’t answering my knock,” Eve fired back even as she kept pulling on the baseball bat. “I need to talk to you, Dru. I had to come inside.”

This is Dru? Cain let Eve take the bat from him.

She tossed it into a corner and faced off against Dru.

Dru’s hot glare swept over Eve. “Do you know how many cops are looking for you right now? You need to be getting your ass out of Dodge.”

Eve shook her head. “No, what I need to be doing is clearing my name, and you’re going to help me.”

But Dru was backing up—very, very fast. “No, I’m not.”

Cain frowned, studying her. She was just a few feet from him, but he couldn’t smell her. Couldn’t hear her heartbeat. If the floor beneath her hadn’t creaked when she’d moved, this Dru could have bashed his head in without any warning.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped at him as she rolled her shoulders. “I’m not the freak in the room.”

“Why can’t I smell you?” He inhaled deeply, but still got nothing.

“’Cause I don’t stink?” she threw right back at him and edged closer to the back wall.

He suspected she was looking for a new weapon. Interesting. His head cocked to the side as he studied her. “I don’t hear your heart beating.” Even vampires had beating hearts, despite the myths about them being the walking dead.

Dru waved that away. “Trust me, it’s beating. So fast my chest hurts.” She jumped behind the counter and came back up with a handgun. “Eve, get your ass out of my shop.”

The sight of the gun had Eve tensing, but she said, “I will, but I want information first.”

Dru raised her gun. “Um, do you want a bullet in your head?”

It was Cain’s turn to step forward. He positioned himself between Eve and the barrel of the gun. “Fire if you want to,” he invited softly, “but then you should probably run.”

Her nostrils flared as if she were trying to get his scent. “You smell”—Dru whispered—“like blood and fire.”

He stared back at her. “And you smell like a woman who’s been using witchcraft.” A woman with no scent. The witches could do that. They could make a brew to cloak scents.

She laughed then. A deep, rumbling laugh that he hadn’t expected from such a small package. “I don’t mess with any crazy witches”—she leaned forward—“but I do know how to mix some herbs for a little protection.”

Protection that could mask her smell? Yes, he’d heard of that, but … “Why doesn’t your heart beat?” When he focused just on her, he should be able to hear it.

He couldn’t.

The laughter faded from her face. “Maybe I lied before. Maybe I just don’t have a heart.”

Eve sighed from behind him. “And maybe you’re just bullshitting.” She shoved Cain aside. “She wears a special vest under her clothes, okay? One that mutes the sound so that no one else can hear it.”

Dru gave a little shrug. “An unfortunate encounter with a vampire a few years ago. Even though he’s rotting in the ground, it’s made me a bit … obsessive … about a few things.”

“Yeah,” Eve muttered, “but maybe instead of worrying so much about your scent and heartbeat, you should look into investing in a new door and store alarm.” She cleared her throat and slapped her hand on the counter. “But right now, I need you to help me.”

“And I should because … ?”

“Because it was my story that put your freak of a stepfather on death row.” Eve bared her teeth. “You’re welcome. Now pay me back, and I’ll get my butt out of your shop.”

Dru’s hand tightened around the gun, but she slowly lowered the weapon to the countertop. “What do you want?”

Eve backed up and hit the lights. When the illumination flooded on, Cain saw the sketches and photographs that lined the wall behind Dru’s head.

“No one inks wolves quite like you.” Eve’s voice was flat.

Cain frowned and searched the pictures. He saw half a dozen wolves scattered in the images. Some were hunting. Howling. Running.

“Even when they’re supposed to look like monsters, the eyes give them away. Your eyes are always different.”

Cain’s own eyes narrowed. He could see what Eve was talking about. The lines drawn for the wolves’ eyes … were distinctive. Not an animal. A human gaze.

“It’s like a fingerprint. I saw your fingerprint last night.” Eve’s voice came faster. “I saw your fingerprint on the right inner wrist of a man who locked me in a room and watched while I burned.”

Dru swallowed.

“He was military, don’t know if he was current or discharged, but the guy moved like Special Ops. Controlled. Dangerous. He was six foot two, about two hundred twenty pounds, with dark hair and scars that cut across the right side of his face—”

Dru held up her hand. “You should have started with the scars.” She bent beneath the counter. Pulled out a heavy, black book, and began flipping through the sketches. She stopped and her finger tapped on the image of two wolves.

One wolf had just killed the other. The victor stared back, fangs glinting. Eyes shining.

“He hated the way I did the eyes,” Dru said and her lips pulled down in a frown. “Asshole thought he’d get his money back because I made the wolf look like he had a soul.”

And monsters weren’t supposed to have souls.

“The guy’s a Ranger.” Dru flipped the book around so Eve could scan the notes she’d jotted next to the image. “Name’s Damon Tyler. And I even have his address for you.”

An address Cain had already memorized. He knew this town pretty well, and he knew where to find that street.

“Now are we done?” Dru demanded. “Does this square us up?”

Eve nodded and backed up. “Thank you.” She turned away and Cain followed at her back.

“I should thank you… .” Dru’s voice was soft. Far more subdued.

Cain paused when Eve glanced over her shoulder at the other woman.

A grim smile lifted Dru’s lips. “My stepfather really was a freak—and I’m counting down the days until the needle goes into his arm.” Her lips tightened. “But you might want to move faster, Eve, ’cause I set off my alarm as soon as you kicked my door, and the cops are gonna be here any minute.”

Eve’s face tensed. “Don’t tell them I was here.”

Dru nodded.

Eve took Cain’s hand, and the move surprised him so much that he let her drag him from the shop. A few moments later, they were in the vehicle, driving away. Not too fast—why look guilty? He was heading straight for the Ranger who damn well would take them to Wyatt.

“Told you I could find him,” Eve said, staring out the window. “Guess I’m not so useless after all.”

He stiffened. Had he called her that? He hadn’t meant …

“We find Damon, we find Wyatt. The bastard won’t see us coming until it’s too late. He’ll be the hunted one now.”

Cain drove in silence, then he had to know. “What did her stepfather do?”

“He liked to cut up girls. The younger, the better.” She pulled in a rough breath. “Dru … had a little sister. She went missing, just like two other girls had in her neighborhood.”

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. A needle in the arm was too good for the prick. “You knew it was him?”

“Dru did. She came to me because I was the only reporter in town who’d listen to her.” A sad laugh. “Maybe because I was the newest one then?”

No, he thought it was more than her just being the new kid on the block who’d been hungry for a story.

“She’d tried going to the cops, but Leon was too good at playing the grieving father. He was also very good at not leaving evidence behind.”

“How’d you catch him?” Cain drove easily, but his attention was on Eve.

“Humans couldn’t find his tracks. Supernaturals could.” A brief pause. “I used a shifter to sniff him out … and to help me find the bodies.” Silence, then … “I never want to see graves that small ever again.”

Cain’s gaze cut to her.

Her lips trembled. But then she shook her head as if trying to shake off the memory. “I took the cops to the bodies. Said I’d had a source call me. There was enough DNA left behind that we could tie the bastard to the killings. He’s been on death row for five years, and it’s time for him to go to hell.”

“Dru knew you used a shifter to help you.”

“That’s why she can’t ever make wolves look like the monsters most people think they are. To Dru, the shifters were the heroes.”

And she always showed that in their eyes.

Cain slowed the car as he neared the small, ranch-style house located at the end of Branchline Road.

Eve cleared her throat. “So … who gets to play good cop when we go inside?”

He killed the engine. Turned his head to slowly glance her way. “I’ve never been good.”

She nodded. A ghost of a smile lifted her lips as she reached for her door handle. “Right, then I’ll—”

Cain caught her hand. “You’ll stay behind me.” The guy was a Ranger, trained to kill in more ways than most humans could count. Tyler wasn’t getting close to Eve. “If he’s here, then I’ll be the one to face him.”

“And I’ll—”

“Stand back and not get hurt.”

She stared at him.

“The price of being human,” he murmured.

Her eyes narrowed. “We both know I’m not.”

“We don’t know what you are.” It was eating him up inside, wondering if she was like him.

Eve glanced back at the house. Cain had parked a little ways down the street, but they had a perfect view of 2808 Branchline. “If he’s not home, we’ll search his house,” she said. “We might be able to find intel that we can use.”

The searching part she could handle. He’d do the attacking.

They climbed from the vehicle. Instead of keeping to the shadows of the trees, Cain headed for the guy’s front door.

Eve grabbed his arm. “Uh, have you heard of the subtle approach?”

“I’m more familiar with the ass-kicking approach.” No neighbors were around. Probably all at work. Good. Cain slammed his fist into the door. Heard no sound from inside.

“Here,” he told her, backing up a bit, “I’ll try your routine.”

“Cain, wait—”

His foot drove into the door. His kick was far more effective than hers had been at Death Ink. The wood splintered, and the door flew open.

The human didn’t rush out to attack, but Cain heard a faint groan from inside the house.

He entered the small foyer, then spun to the left and rushed toward that sound. With every step, the scent of blood filled his nose.

Dammit.

He ran into the kitchen and found a human male on the floor, soaked in blood. The man’s hands were spread out beside him, palms up, and the dark tattoo stared back up at Cain.

“I guess someone else wanted him dead, too,” Cain said quietly.

Eve pushed past him and fell to her knees. She put her hands on the man, one hand on his chest, one hand on his neck. “He’s not dead yet.”

With that much blood, he would be. Soon.

Eve grabbed a towel off the counter and shoved it against Damon’s wounds. “He’s been shot, looks like two times.” She leaned over the man. “Damon! Open your eyes. Look at me!”

Cain could already smell death coming. She had to smell it, too. He backed up, prowling around the house. Making sure the shooter wasn’t still close by.

“Missed his heart …” Eve’s voice floated toward Cain as she muttered. “Bullet’s still in. Has to get out … Cain, call an ambulance!”

He was supposed to help the bastard who’d watched her burn?

Slowly, Cain made his way back to the kitchen. Blood was on Eve’s hands. What the hell had she been doing? Why was she doing it?

“Damon, Damon, look at me!”

The man’s eyes flickered, then opened.

“You’re gonna be okay …”

Why was she lying to him? Cain frowned. Death was there, hovering so close.

“Who did this to you?” Eve asked him.

The bleeding male’s lips curved. The guy was smiling. At death? Cain looked at the human with new interest.

“Can’t … trust … anyone …” Damon gasped. More blood came from his lips.

“Where’s Wyatt?” Eve demanded as she put pressure on his wounds. “Where is he?”

More blood. Grunts.

Eve glanced up at Cain. “Call the ambulance.”

Cain didn’t move. “Why? They’d never make it here in time.”

She stared at him in shock. “C-Cain?”

He didn’t move toward the phone. “He’s gonna be dead long before any help can arrive.”

Air wheezed from the man’s lips. His eyes were wide open, and he had to be feeling every second of pain as his blood pumped from his body.

Cain knew what those gunshot wounds felt like. He’d been killed that way a time or two.

Eve kept pushing on the wounds. “Call help.”

Cain shrugged and bent toward the man. “Guessing your own team shot you, huh? Shot you, and left you to die …” He shook his head. “Why’d they do that? From what I can tell, you’re just a human. Not Wyatt’s usual paranormal target at all.”

“Am … human …” Damon rasped.

Cain studied the scene before him. Eve was checking the guy’s wounds, swearing, getting her fingers covered in blood. They’d have to talk about that, later. “So why’d they turn on you?” Cain asked him.

The man’s gaze, heavy, pain-filled, darted to Eve.

Cain’s hands knotted into fists. “You didn’t like what they did to her.” And he remembered … when he’d rushed in to save Eve, this man had been there, banging on the door of her holding room. Screaming.

Help her … There’s a woman in there—he’s fucking burning her alive …

His screams had done no good.

“That your first time to see the dirty work your boss does?” Cain wanted to know. “Got a little too up-close and personal, didn’t you?”

Damon tried to lift his head. Eve pushed him right back down. “I’m trying to keep you alive. So will you stop moving? ”

“I’m not trying,” Cain told the guy with a grim smile. “But if you tell me what I want to know, maybe I’ll help put you out of your misery.”

Eve gasped and jumped up. She grabbed for the phone. Cain moved at the same time. He wrapped his arms around her and snatched the phone away. Her eyes, shocked, wide, found his.

“Cain?”

He pushed her behind him and turned to stare back down at Damon. “That pool of blood is just getting deeper.”

Damon wasn’t trying to rise any longer.

“Your own men shot you. Wyatt betrayed you. What the hell kind of loyalty do you owe him?” Cain demanded.

“Please,” Eve’s soft voice. “Wyatt has other test subjects, Damon. He’s going to hurt them, the way he tried to hurt me. We just want to save them.”

She wanted to save people. Cain wanted to kill. Why couldn’t they both get what they wanted?

We can.

“Where is he?” Eve asked the human, her voice so light and gentle. “Don’t die without helping those others. Tell us, please.”

“B-Beaumont …” The word seemed torn from Damon. Probably because it was. “He’s got … second lab …”

Cain waited.

“In … Beaumont.”

Cain had heard of the city. A small town, just inside the North Carolina border, nestled in the mountains. “Thanks for the information. Now you can die happy.” Or maybe with a semi-clean conscience.

“Cain!” Eve shoved at his back.

Sighing, he stepped out of her way. She immediately fell beside Damon. Her blood-smeared fingers reached for the man’s cheek. She leaned in close and told him, “You aren’t dying.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, it hurts like a bitch, I know, but the bullet missed your heart, and that second wound’s just a graze.”

While she was talking Cain was calling nine-one-one … and keeping a close watch on Eve.

“No vital organs were damaged.”

The woman sounded like a doctor. Fitting, since she’d played one back at Genesis. Cain wondered … how much of that role had been pretend?

“You get stitched up, get some good drugs in you, and you’ll be just fine.” Eve gave Damon a light tap on the cheek. “Sorry I had to press down so hard on your wounds, but I needed you to hurt a little bit more.”

“Pain can make people talk,” Cain murmured. The nine-one-one dispatcher answered in his ear and Cain told her to send an ambulance. “We’ve got a human down.”

Eve looked back at him with a frown.

Cain tossed the phone onto the countertop. “You make one fine bad cop.” He could admit when he was wrong.

The left side of her mouth hitched into a half-smile. “Told you that I have my moments.”

Yes, she did.

“But your bad cop … was better,” she admitted.

Because he hadn’t been playing.

Eve glanced back at the groaning man on the floor. “Just stay still until the ambulance gets here. You really will be okay.”

Anger tightened Damon’s face. Anger and pain.

Eve rose and went to the sink. Cain shadowed her moves—just in case Damon wanted to attack. She washed the blood away from her fingers. The water turned red as it poured down the drain.

Cain took Eve’s arm and began to lead her from the kitchen.

“You’ll … stop him …” Damon’s voice. Weak. Growling.

Cain glanced back. “I will.” A promise.

Damon nodded. “Good. He’s … sick …”

“A real monster,” Eve whispered. She cleared her throat and told Damon, “When the doctors sew you back up, get out of that hospital as soon as you can. Wyatt tried to kill you once, and when he finds out he didn’t succeed, he’ll come after you again.”

When you worked with the devil, you had to expect to feel the fire. “And if you try to warn him that we’re coming,” Cain said, voice sharp and hard when Eve’s had been soft, “I will be back for you.”

Damon’s breath heaved out. “Won’t … tell …”

He’d better not.

But just in case, Cain planned to attack the lab in Beaumont as soon as he could.

The distant wail of an ambulance’s siren reached him. Help. Coming quickly for the human.

They hurried back to their vehicle. Left the blood behind. Didn’t look back.

By the time the ambulance turned onto Branchline, Cain was already heading in the opposite direction. He watched the ambulance’s flickering lights in his rearview mirror.

“They’ll save him,” Eve said, sounding so certain. “The wound was all gore, but nothing vital had been hit.”

He glanced her way.

“Two years of med school,” she explained with a sigh. Her eyes closed as if she were tired. “I know what death looks like.”

She also knew how to be one fine actress.

She’d just bluffed her way into getting them the information they needed.

How fucking perfect.

Beaumont.

Now, to just find a safe place to leave Eve while he turned Wyatt’s new playground into ashes.