Burn For Me

CHAPTER FIVE

He’d left her. Eve had realized that fun fact about, oh, four hours ago. When she’d woken up alone, naked, and cold.

He’d given her a good orgasm—or three. Four? Showing a girl a good time did not mean that the guy could just waltz out the door when she shut her eyes for a minute. Talk about being an inconsiderate jackass.

When she got her hands on him …

The door to the cabin flew open. She whirled around. Weapon! She needed a—

Cain stood in the doorway.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. She still needed a weapon. Maybe a lamp to throw at his thick head so he’d get that a guy wasn’t supposed to desert a lady right after mind-blowing sex.

Even paranormals could do some pillow talk.

“Where were you?” Eve demanded then realized she sounded like some really angry girlfriend. Crap.

Wow. Not me. She’d never done the angry scene before. She guessed there was a first time for everything. Jack. Ass.

Cain lifted the object he was holding. “I went back for this. Thought you might want it. You were sure clinging to it tight enough back in Wyatt’s office.”

Wyatt’s laptop. Eve flew across the room and grabbed it. Okay, so it was black with soot and ash, kinda dinged up, but it didn’t look too bad. No, actually, it looked so good and sweet—evidence!—that she almost kissed it.

She rushed away from him, and sat down at the small table, and opened the laptop. Yes, yes, the power hummed right on and then—

“You’re welcome,” Cain drawled from behind her.

She heard the door shut. Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. He stood in front of the door with his hands crossed over his chest. Sometimes, she got a little too carried away with things. He’d gone back for the laptop. That was rather … awesome. And kinda sweet. Eve forced herself to turn away from the laptop and rise slowly to face Cain. “Thank you.” She needed that laptop. It was proof. Well, it was her proof, and so was Cain. Living, breathing, talking proof.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Thank me with a kiss.”

She could feel her flush getting deeper.

“It wasn’t easy to get it, either. Local cops are swarming that place, and I had to crawl through the rubble left behind in order to find it.” He took a step toward her. One. Then another. Stalking her. His gaze was on her face as he said, “I figure a kiss is the least I deserve for that little prize.”

Kissing him wasn’t exactly a hardship for her. She wet her lips. His eyes weren’t blazing—a good thing—they were back to being dark and intense. But she could still see the lust in his stare.

Her heart began to race faster. “A kiss … seems fair to me.” If he had been there when she woke up, she would have given him a whole lot more than just a kiss good morning.

Since he’d left to retrieve the laptop for her, Eve figured she could forgive the guy. The laptop was way more important than pillow talk.

She had her priorities. Most days.

So she was the one that closed the distance between them. The one to lift her hands and curl them around his neck. He was still warm to the touch, but not as hot as he’d been before. Eve rose onto her toes as his head lowered toward her.

The kiss was easy, light. Exploring.

At first.

Then she caught his lower lip between her teeth. Tugged gently. Nipped.

He shuddered against her.

The kiss stopped being so easy and light.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. His hands settled on her ass and lifted her right up against his cock. Ah, he was definitely responding to the kiss. So was she. Her nipples were getting tight and heavy. She’d wanted his mouth on them last night. Maybe now he could—

Cain’s head lifted. “How do you smell so good?”

What? She blinked at him.

“Sweet, light,” he said, eyes narrowing as they swept over. “Like candy.”

Oh. Ahem. She cleared her throat. “That’s the soap I use.” Soap. Shampoo. Body lotion. She’d gotten some big kit last Christmas, and she used it all the time. Eve couldn’t remember the name, something like peppermint dreams or—

“It makes me want to lick you all over.”

That didn’t sound like such a bad plan to her. “Will I get a turn?” Her voice lowered as she asked. Licking him would be pretty damn fantastic.

But he stiffened and pushed her away. Eve’s brows lowered, and she shook her head. In her limited experience, guys didn’t turn down offers like the one she’d just made. Guys jumped on those offers. “Cain?”

He’d spun away from her and was at the window, peeking out through the thin curtains. “Company.”

She didn’t hear anything, but she still hurried to his side. Okay, she didn’t see anything, either. “Are you sure?”

“Two cars. Police. They’re searching the area. I thought we’d have more time …” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the window. “We’re leaving. Now.”

So in addition to being a literal firepower, the guy had super senses, too. She’d known that he’d heard her and Wyatt through that so-called soundproof glass, but now he was just being extra impressive.

Eve hurried over to the laptop. A new screen was up—one that asked for a password. Like a password request would stop her. She knew people—or rather, one very smart guy in particular—who could work around pretty much any tech code out there.

“Hurry, Eve.”

She turned back to him. She was wearing an old shirt that she’d found in his closet, one that she’d belted to make look like a rather unstylish dress. She had on her shoes, and after a shower, she looked semi—

“Eve.”

Right. Screw beauty. She hurried after him. They jumped into the truck and rushed down a dirt road. She looked back behind them as Cain hauled ass, but still didn’t see anyone. “If Genesis is dead, why are we running?”

“Because cops and I damn well don’t mix.” He was flooring the truck, sending it bouncing along the road and hurtling down the mountain.

She yanked on her seat belt. “We’re the innocent ones here. Wyatt was the one who—”

His cold laughter stopped her. “Baby, I’ve never been innocent a day in my life.”

Eve could believe that. Actually, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know about all the things he’d done.

“When you do your big report on Genesis and that prick Wyatt, do me one favor …” Cain slanted a fast glance her way even as he punched the gas harder. “Leave my name out of it.”

“But—but what he did to you …” She’d seen it with her own eyes. “They killed you. Tortured you.” He deserved justice for that. People should know his story.

“Not like it’s the first time for any of that.” Cain’s voice was growing colder, but the truck was still going just as fast. “So tell your story, but leave me the hell out of it. The last thing I want is any attention from the media—or the humans.”

Her hand tightened around the seat belt strap that crossed her shoulder. “Okay.” She figured he deserved that protection. He’d hauled her butt out of the fire. She’d keep his name out of her story. Subject Thirteen. That was all he’d be to the people who read about the nightmare of Genesis.

Except …

“I’d like to know, though,” Eve told him. His profile was so strong. Hard. Had he really burned for her just minutes before? No, she’d burned for him. She was still aroused. Aching. She was very worried Cain might be ruining her for other men. “What are you?”

He didn’t answer at first, and she didn’t think that he would. But after a time, he said, “I’m the devil.”

A chill skated down her spine because he sounded so … serious. She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re just—” Trying to scare me. But she didn’t say those words.

In this world, anything could be possible, Eve knew that. If vamps could live forever, was there really a limit to what other beings could exist?

“I’ve killed,” he told her in a voice devoid of emotion. “Tortured far worse than Wyatt ever could.”

That chill got worse. She didn’t want to hear this. She’d wanted him to be the good guy.

“I’m not some damn hero, no matter what you think.”

She had thought that, and barely controlled her wince.

“I’m the monster in the dark. The big, fucking bad wolf. I’ve seen hell, and I’ve brought hell to earth.”

He wasn’t looking at her. Maybe that was a good thing.

“And I’ll do it again and again,” Cain promised in his growling voice. “That’s who I am—what I am. I bring death. I bring hell.”

The breath in her lungs seemed to have frozen. He was wrong, she knew it. But Eve didn’t know what to say to him and as they headed down that mountain—so fast—the silence in the vehicle deepened.

He’d frightened her.

Cain braked the truck at the edge of Atlanta. They’d driven for hours, heading fast to get away from the remains of Genesis. He’d asked Eve where she needed to go. Where she’d be safe. After only the smallest of hesitations, she’d named the city. As he’d driven, the miles had passed in heavy silence.

He’d felt Eve’s stare on him so many times during that long drive, but she hadn’t spoken. What was she supposed to say? How did a woman respond when she’d learned that she’d just fucked a killer?

She didn’t. She just ran away. That was what all the others had done, and he knew that was exactly what Eve planned to do. You didn’t stay with the devil forever, not if you wanted to keep your soul.

His gaze scanned the lot. There were big rigs at the truck stop. A handful of them. Exhaust fumes drifted up into the dark sky.

“What happens now?” Eve asked, finally speaking. Her voice was husky, soft.

What happens … he wanted to keep her with him. To find a motel room. To strip her and take her all over again until the pleasure left them both weak and tired. Until he couldn’t move and she didn’t want to.

But he had a target to take down. Genesis had burned, but his vengeance wasn’t complete, not yet. He still owed the traitor who’d gotten him locked in that pit.

“It’s the end of the line.” He tossed the keys to her. “You keep the truck.” He’d find another ride. Easy enough.

He jumped out of the vehicle. Slammed the door shut behind him. Left her. He’d never been one for the good-bye scene, and telling her good-bye—no. Not what he wanted to do. Better to just walk away and not see her—

A door slammed behind him. “Wait!” Eve’s voice. Not so husky anymore. Sharp. Angry.

He stilled.

Then her hand was on his shoulder, jerking him around to face her. For someone so small, she had a pretty strong grip. “You’re leaving me?” Her eyes were wide with a combination of shock and fury.

What had she expected? “You said you had friends in this city.” He’d gotten her to talk only one time during the ride. Good thing she’d said Atlanta was where she needed to be … it was exactly where he’d be finding his target, too.

The more dangerous paranormals liked the big cities. With all the humans running around, there was plenty of prey for them. Since their coming-out party, the paranormals had actually done a good job of taking over the big cities in the U.S. There was strength in numbers, usually.

That’s why Genesis was afraid of us. They knew how powerful we were becoming. If the paranormals took over, then what happened to the humans?

They get on the endangered species list.

Eve’s fingers dug into his shoulder. “You’re just walking away? After what happened between us?”

His hand rose. His fingers slid over her cheek. She didn’t seem to realize it, but he was trying to protect her. From myself. If he stayed with her … I’ll never let go.

Because he already craved her.

She was a weakness to him. The only one he had. She could be too dangerous.

Cain’s hand slid away and he stepped back, making her hand fall. “I’ve got a shifter to kill.” Jimmy Vance.

“W-what?” She obviously hadn’t expected his response.

“He won’t sell out any more paranormals. He won’t sell me out ever again.” He wouldn’t be able to … kinda hard to sell out folks when you were rotting in the ground.

“You can’t just—just kill him!”

He’d told her the truth about himself, but she still didn’t seem to get it. Not the good guy. “Sure I can.” He closed his eyes. Summoned up the power that was always inside him. Let it swell. Let it grow. Let the dark edges seep past his control. When his eyes opened again, he knew that she’d see the fire in his eyes. “I can do anything I want.”

No one would stop him. His guard wouldn’t be lowered again. Wyatt was dead. Fried to ash.

Soon Jimmy would be, too.

Paranormals had died in that facility, and, unlike him, they hadn’t been able to regenerate and come back. He’d heard their screams. Their last desperate cries.

They deserved their vengeance, too. He’d give it to them.

He turned away from her again. Began walking.

“Don’t.” Her soft voice behind him.

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t look back. He had a shifter to kill, and Eve, with her big, blue eyes and her trembling, red lips, wasn’t going to stop him.

No one was.

He’d left her. The jerk had actually dumped her at a truck stop. Just … walked away. Okay, he’d left the truck with her, so she hadn’t exactly been stranded, but …

He’d still ditched her.

And gone off to kill.

No, you’re not doing it. She wasn’t just going to stand back while some shifter was slaughtered.

Even if he deserved that death?

She jumped out of the truck. Slammed the door and raced the rest of the way up the graveled drive. She’d told Cain the truth when she’d said that she had friends in this city. This particular friend was loaded—and that was why he had a giant house on twenty private acres in Atlanta.

She pounded on the door. Hurry, hurry …

The door opened. Trace Frost glared down at her, wearing a pair of pajama pants and looking severely irritated. His eyes were narrowed, the faint lines around his eyes tight.

“It’s two-thirty in the morning, Eve,” he growled. “Two damn thirty. Unless you’re here to have sex, then—”

“Someone’s about to die.”

Her words cut him off.

Trace blinked at her, his green eyes waking up very quickly. The guy was built, muscled, freakishly smart.

He was also a shifter.

So Trace usually kept tabs on any other shifters in his town. It was the whole keep your friends close, and your enemies closer bit. His motto was keep the shifters close … and be ready to defend your fucking territory from friends and enemies.

He raked a hand over his face. “You would be coming about something like that.”

She pushed the laptop against his chest. He’d be the one cracking that pass code for her later. The guy owed her. Seriously owed her since she’d risked her life for him more than once. “Jimmy Vance.”

Trace whistled as he rocked back on his heels. “You don’t want to mess with that guy.” His native Texas rolled faintly beneath the words. Trace gave a quick shake of his head. “Vance would sell out his own mother for—”

“If I don’t find him soon, he’s dead.” She didn’t want Vance dead because, well, one, killing the guy was wrong. You couldn’t just go up and torch a shifter. Cain would find his own ass hunted if he did that. And, two, she needed Vance. Eve wanted to break the Genesis story wide open, and if Jimmy Vance had been dealing with Wyatt, then she wanted to talk to him.

Preferably while he was still breathing. Otherwise, it would be rather difficult to accomplish.

“I don’t know if his death would be such a loss,” Trace muttered as he lifted up the laptop. “You didn’t have to bring me a present.” The porch light glinted off his tousled, blond hair.

“You’re getting me into that system,” she told him, putting her hands on her hips, “after you take me to Vance.”

Trace’s gaze came back to her. Then that stare slowly swept over her body. He winced. “Fine, but, seriously, if we’re hunting shifters tonight, you have to change. You won’t get into a fight looking like that.”

Whoa, hold up. “A fight?” She followed him into the house.

He tucked the laptop under one arm and shut the door behind her. The alarm beeped. “Vance—and the shifters like him—always head to the cage fights on Saturday nights.”

Her stomach clenched. “You’re not talking about a normal cage fight, are you?”

Trace shook his head. “Just to get in that fight, one of us will have to bleed.”

Dammit. Why does everything with the paranormals always have to be about blood?

Jimmy Vance had better be freaking grateful when she saved his butt.

No, no, this was definitely not a normal cage fight. Eve had seen cage fights on TV. Even done an interview or two at fights back when she’d worked in Texas.

This was different. And, yeah, they’d had to bleed to get inside.

Apparently, no one got in without signing up for a fight. She’d come with Trace, and he’d been the one to agree to enter the cage. If she’d come alone, well, she never would have made it past the hulks at the door.

Eve’s eyes were locked on the cage as Trace swiped out with his claws and cut into his opponent’s stomach.

More blood pooled on the already slick cage floor.

If I’d come alone, I’d probably be dead.

She couldn’t fight a shifter. No way. Not even in her nightmares.

The crowd around her was cheering. Yelling, screaming. Throwing fists and claws in the air as they placed wagers on who would be walking out of that cage.

And who wouldn’t.

Horror had Eve’s mouth hanging open. She’d never expected … this. But Trace—he’d known exactly where to go. Down the twisting, dark back streets of Atlanta. Inside the old warehouse that had looked abandoned to her.

A trick. The place had been packed inside. Once they’d cleared the first level of the warehouse, she’d started to hear the yells—and to smell the blood.

Trace had flashed fang and claws, shifter-style, when they saw the bouncers. One of the bouncers had even greeted him by name.

Not Trace’s first trip into the cage.

The place reeked of blood and violence. Men and women jostled her as they fought to get closer to the cage. The floor of the cage had to be about ten feet wide, and the walls—okay, the caged fencing—stretched all the way to the ceiling.

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Eve’s gaze jerked back to the fighters. One man was down, moaning.

That man wasn’t Trace.

Trace had his claws in the air. Sweat glinted off his body, and the guy was … smiling.

Her back teeth clenched. She hadn’t realized just how much he would enjoy the violence.

The cage opened and Trace stalked out. Someone else dragged his bleeding opponent toward one of the back rooms. More money exchanged hands. The smoke in the area deepened.

Beers were tossed around.

The blood pooled in the cage.

Eve shoved her way through the crowd around Trace. He was getting slapped on the back. Figured. Shifters and violence. They went together too well.

And she knew Trace had a dark side. Taking the guy there hadn’t been her best plan ever.

She grabbed his arm. “Where’s Vance?” They weren’t there so Trace could rip and claw his way through the fighters. They had a job to do.

Trace glanced her way. Blood dripped from his mouth. “I talked to the organizer …”

Wait, there was an organizer?

The cage door was being opened again.

“Vance is fighting now.” Trace wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face the cage. “Provided he survives this fight, you can talk to Vance all you want—after.”

She stared at the man entering the cage with an arrogant swagger. His head was shaved, and his eyes, small, angry, swept over the crowd. A tattoo of a giant snake covered his bare chest and an old pair of faded jeans hung low on his hips.

“No weapons,” Trace murmured in her ear as he leaned in close to her. “Except the ones God gave you. Those are the cage rules.”

Jimmy opened his mouth and the light glinted off the too sharp and far too long teeth on each side of his mouth.

That just was seriously scary. She’d never seen teeth quite like those before, not even on vamps. “W-what kind of shifter is he?”

“Snake.”

Hell. The tattoo made sense then, and so did the sharp, thin fangs. Fangs that curved a bit, just like a snake’s.

Snake shifters were supposed to be devious. She’d heard rumors about them, but tonight was her first shot at an up-close look at the real deal.

Jimmy lifted his hands and the people watching and drinking roared.

Trace’s hold tightened on her. “It seems that Vance is a crowd favorite.”

Looked that way. She glanced over at Trace. She’d seen him shift once, that was how they’d met. She’d found him hurt, far too close to death, on a lonely stretch of Texas highway.

She’d thought about leaving the bloody wolf when he snarled at her with his bared fangs, but she hadn’t been able to walk away.

Not even when the wolf had become a man.

“How long have you been coming here?” On top of everything else that was happening, she had to deal with this, too.

Her best friend, sliding right back into that dark pool of violence and blood that had stalked him before they’d met.

Trace didn’t answer her and that alone was answer enough. She knew he had to feel the tension in her body.

His gaze was on the cage when he said, “If I hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t have found Vance tonight.”

Right. One problem at a time. She edged back toward the cage with Trace at her side. She’d managed to find clothes at Trace’s place—mostly because Trace had far too many female friends who left their shit behind—so she was wearing a miniskirt, one that was a little too short, and a top that was a little too loose. It kept slipping off her shoulder. The heels were high, ridiculously so, but the clothes made her fit in with the other women there, and that was the point, right? Blending in was a necessity with the supernaturals.

“Vance!” She yelled his name, but he didn’t glance her way. The crowd was roaring so loudly that she knew he hadn’t heard her. She tried again, yelling louder this time, “You’re in danger!”

He needed to slither his butt out of that cage and get over to her.

Eve didn’t know how much of a lead she had on Cain, and she sure didn’t want to waste any lead time while Vance enjoyed getting bloody by beating the hell out of some other shifter.

“We’re not hurting any humans,” Trace told her, voice gruff.

Oh, what? Was he starting to feel guilty for keeping this secret from her?

“That’s why we come here. You know the beasts need to fight. Here, we can face off against each other.”

Face off—until what point? Until only one shifter could claim dominance on a bloodstained floor?

The cage door opened.

The crowd didn’t cheer when the next fighter entered the ring. There wasn’t any sound from them at all. Her head turned toward the fighter because she wanted to see why everyone had gone so deadly quiet.

“He doesn’t smell like a shifter,” Trace said, lifting his head. “And I haven’t seen that guy before.”

The guy had a dark hood over his head, a hood that connected with the loose sweatshirt he wore. His shoulders were broad, his legs braced apart.

Vance frowned at him and … backed up a step? Eve caught the flash of fear on Vance’s face.

The new fighter shoved the hood off his head. The bright, almost glaring lights hit the stark lines of his face. It was a face she knew too well.

“Cain,” Eve whispered.

And she knew that she’d arrived too late.