Burn For Me

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Atlanta Daily building stood stark and strong in the middle of the downtown business district. Eve had been to that building hundreds of times before. She’d worked as a freelance reporter, and she’d damn well brought in topnotch stories for Gloria Long, the paper’s editor in chief.

When it came to stories, Gloria was a bulldog. She never backed away from anything or anyone.

Gloria would believe her. She’d help to bust Genesis and their work wide open. The paranormals wouldn’t have to fear being snatched away and locked in a lab, not anymore.

“This is a mistake,” Cain told her. He stood right behind her on the busy street corner, gazing up at the building.

Her shoulders stiffened. “So you’ve told me about ten times already.” But he was still with her. He’d said that he’d stay by her side until they stopped Wyatt.

Her own pyro bodyguard. What else did a girl need?

They hadn’t talked about what had happened—the hot sex, the wild pleasure—the whole dark-side thing that he had going on.

One problem at a time. Problem one for her right then—Wyatt. Making sure that his thugs weren’t about to go ballistic on her again.

She’d known this story was big. She hadn’t known that it could possibly destroy her life.

Eve grabbed a copy of the Atlanta Daily from the nearby newsstand. She held it up, checking for—

“Oh, shit.” The words slipped from her. She’d made headlines before with her stories, sure, but …

But she’d never been the headline before.

In big, thick block letters, the headline screamed ROGUE REPORTER TORCHES CLUB.

Um, rogue reporter? And she hadn’t torched any damn club—that had been Wyatt!

Her gaze scanned the story. Dammit. It said she’d torched that warehouse. That she’d attacked police officers. That she was fleeing with known felon Cain O’Connor—and that they were both armed and dangerous.

“I am dangerous,” Cain murmured as he read over her shoulder.

Her fingers fisted the paper. “He attacked first.” He’d beaten her to the press. Started a smear campaign so that no one would believe her. So that the public would believe—

Only him.

“I told you,” Cain said as he tossed the paper. “You’re not quite understanding his power.”

“He’s not understanding me,” she snapped right back. Her gaze went to the Atlanta Daily building once more. She knew this routine. Knew it. So maybe Wyatt and his goons were inside, waiting for her to show.

Eve eased back, hiding in the shadows of the nearby restaurant. She didn’t have to go in that big, imposing building. She knew Gloria’s habits, and Gloria would be heading out of the Atlanta Daily on her usual chocolate run in five, four, three …

A woman with short blond hair and long, confident strides pushed through the Atlanta Daily’s glass doors. Ah, Gloria. She could never make it through a full day without getting her fix.

Georgio’s Chocolates was just one block over.

“Come on,” Eve told Cain as she gave chase. No way should Gloria have printed that piece. The woman knew her. Gloria had integrity, she had—

Gloria had stopped in front of Georgio’s. She appeared to be staring at her reflection in the glass.

Eve moved beside her and simply said, “What the hell?”

Gloria bent over as if inspecting the chocolate displayed in the window. “You need to get out of town. Get out and don’t ever come back.”

Cain hung back just a few steps.

“You need to print the truth,” Eve fired back.

Gloria laughed, but the sound was weak and sad. “The truth? The truth is that our government knows about Wyatt’s experiments … and they don’t want them to stop. They’re giving him more power, not less.” She tapped the glass. “You know he’s promised them an immortal soldier? One that can rise again and again, no matter how many times he dies? His heart can stop”—her hand slapped at the glass—“then boom, he’s right back.”

Hell. Wyatt was promising them Cain.

“The soldier won’t need blood like a vampire. He won’t be weak in sunlight. He’ll be strong all the time. He’ll be the perfect weapon of death.”

Was that truly what Cain was? Eve swallowed. “Richard Wyatt is feeding the government a line of bullshit. Nothing—no one—like that exists.”

Gloria straightened, but still didn’t glance her way. “Wyatt knows about me.”

Eve knew her secret, too.

Not human.

“If I don’t play ball with him, I could wind up in a lab.” Fear—an emotion Eve had never heard in Gloria’s voice—hummed beneath the words.

Eve could only stare at the other woman. Gloria had been in more wars that Eve could count. She’d faced terrorists. Murderers. Never flinched. Until now. “So you sold me out because you were afraid?” Fear could make anyone desperate. She got that.

Gloria gave a short, sad shake of her head. “I ran the article because I was scared to death. I came here to warn you because you’re my friend.”

Gloria had been her friend.

But Gloria turned away from her. “Don’t try to talk to me again. Just … get out of here and don’t look back.”

“I don’t run, Gloria.”

Gloria glanced back at her too briefly. “Then you’ll die, Eve.”

Her friend strode into the chocolate shop. The bell that hung over the door gave a happy little jingle.

In the next instant, the shop exploded.

The force of the blast threw Eve back and she screamed, then lost her breath as she slammed into the ground.

“Eve!” Cain was there, turning her over and staring down at her with a face gone white.

She was bleeding. Her hands and her legs were cut and bleeding and she hurt everywhere … and … Gloria was dead.

Eve’s eyes were on the burning building. Or what was left of it.

Cain lifted her into his arms. Sirens were screaming from someplace and a crowd was gathering on the street.

“I’m a doctor,” a Good Samaritan in a blue shirt and running shorts said. “Let me look at her, I can help—”

“Step the fuck back,” Cain snarled at him and held her carefully.

The Good Samaritan stepped the fuck back.

The pain began to slip away. Eve stared at the fire. Cain had tried to warn her.

He’d warned her.

Brakes squealed near them. She caught the stench of burning rubber.

Gloria died because of me. Eve realized she was crying.

There’d better be a special place in hell waiting for Wyatt.

“Get in!”

Wait. That voice was familiar. That snarl—it was Trace’s voice.

She turned her head and saw that he’d been the one squealing to a stop. He was in a black SUV, his hands tightly gripping the wheel.

“Get. In!”

Cain put her in the back of the vehicle. Climbed in beside her. Her blood was on his hands.

Only fair. Gloria’s was on hers.

The SUV roared away, racing right past a line of fire trucks heading for the burning remains of the chocolate shop.

Those fire trucks sure had gotten to the scene fast. Too fast.

I wasn’t the only one who knew Gloria’s routine. The bomb had been planted, the authorities tipped off.

And Gloria had died.

“You were right,” Eve spoke through numb lips. “I should have stayed away.” Cain had warned her, but she hadn’t listened. She’d been so sure that she could approach Gloria quietly, that she could get her story out there.

Cain turned over her hands. Eve’s palms were shredded. She’d thrown up her hands to cover her face when she went flying into the street, and when she’d hit, her palms had slammed into the asphalt.

“The paper said … the story said I torched that warehouse, the club with the people inside …” She licked her lips. Tasted the fire. “People will say I did the same here. That I killed her.”

You did. A dark voice whispered in her mind. It was the voice of her own guilt. Gloria shouldn’t have died for her.

Trace cursed from the front seat and sent the SUV careening around a curve.

“Slow down,” Cain snapped, but his fingers softly stroked Eve’s hands. “You want to blend in now, not stick out.”

But Eve shook her head, knowing blending in wasn’t an option. Eyes had been watching them. Cameras had probably been stationed on that shop, recording their every move. “They’ll have seen the SUV. Gotten the plates …”

“On it,” Trace muttered and pulled them into the winding entrance of a parking garage. “We’re ditching this ride and getting the hell out of here.”

“He’s setting me up,” she whispered, her heart like lead in her chest. “Wyatt is making me look like a criminal so no one will believe anything I say.”

Cain just stared at her. A muscle jerked in his jaw. His hand lifted and brushed over her cheek. More blood smeared his fingers. She hadn’t even realized that her cheek was bleeding.

“Attack first,” Trace said from the front. The SUV braked to a jarring stop. “Give your enemy no time to run or rest. Fucking smart strategy.”

No one had ever said Doctor Richard Wyatt wasn’t smart.

Cain shoved open the back door, but after he jumped out, he turned back to gently help her out of the SUV.

“There.” Trace was already heading toward another vehicle—a pickup truck. One with an extended cab and lots of room in the rear. “You two get back there and stay down.”

He had the truck hot-wired in ten seconds flat. She’d taught him that particular skill, one long ago day. Eve slid down in the back, and Cain came down on top of her. Their bodies were pressed together. So close.

She turned her head away. She didn’t want him this close. This close, he’d be able to see it when she cried.

I’m sorry, Gloria.

“I’ll stop him,” Cain promised her.

The lump in her throat was choking her. Eve tried to swallow. Once. Twice.

Then she felt Cain’s lips on her cheek. He was … kissing away her tears.

“I’ll kill him.” So soft. Such a deadly vow.

She knew that Cain would keep his word.

If they didn’t stop Wyatt, he’d keep coming. More innocent people would die. Wyatt didn’t care. The blood on the streets didn’t make a damn difference to him.

He’d keep coming.

Until they burned his ass and sent him to hell.

Wyatt surveyed the smoking remains before him. A good warning. Now Eve would understand just who she was facing.

Had she truly thought he’d fear being exposed in the media?

That would never happen. It couldn’t. His experiments were too important.

Firemen were rushing onto the scene. No survivors would be inside. How could they possibly be? Those in that shop weren’t like Cain … or Eve.

Such a surprise. He never would have known about her special skills if she hadn’t come right to him.

Her mistake.

He’d had the chance to conduct two experiments in the field. Two very rewarding experiments.

Cain hadn’t killed Eve once he’d risen. He’d been able to maintain his control with her. Interesting. If the chains hadn’t bound him at Genesis, Cain would have destroyed everyone around him after some of his risings. He’d been too out of control. Too wild.

But he hadn’t needed chains to stop him from hurting the lovely Eve.

And even a very powerful blast—one that had taken place just inches away from Eve’s own face—hadn’t been able to kill her.

Wyatt had been watching her when that building exploded. He’d seen exactly what she’d done.

Eve had thrown up her hands, and, for an instant, the flames had washed right over her skin. The force of those flames—and the blast—had tossed her through the air. She’d been bruised and bloody when she rose again, but the injuries had come from her slamming into the pavement.

The fire had never hurt her. The flames had burned right over her flesh, but the fire hadn’t so much as blistered her skin.

Eve held great power over the fire.

He had been watching her every move through his binoculars. He’d seen the blood dripping from her wounds. Seen the way Cain cradled her. While the fire might not be able to hurt Eve, she was still very, very vulnerable. Eve could be hurt. Just not with fire.

The drugs he’d used at Genesis—and again last night—had a definite effect on her. And her skin cut open all too easily.

But she was immune to the flames.

Interesting.

A puzzle … and he did love a good puzzle. Once he got Eve in his lab, strapped to his table, he’d learn every one of her secrets.

She’d beg to tell them to him.

“Was that place rigged?” Trace asked quietly as he faced Cain, “or did you start the fire?”

They’d gotten out of Atlanta. Driven a few hours, crossed the South Carolina border, and kept going. They’d finally stopped at a small motel on the outskirts of Charlotte. Water from the shower pounded steadily, muffled slightly by the closed bathroom door.

Cain had been left alone with the shifter while Eve washed the blood away.

Trace raised a brow as he studied Cain. “She’s not here—and she doesn’t have shifter hearing, so just talk straight with me. Drop the bullshit, man.”

Cain didn’t like the wolf.

“I know what you are, and I know exactly what you can do,” Trace told him.

I doubt that. In Cain’s experience, few people actually knew what he was—and even fewer understood just how powerful he was. He stared steadily back at Trace. He’d washed Eve’s blood off his hands, but he could almost still feel that blood coating his fingertips. “And you think I would hurt her?”

“I think you’ve got a monster inside, one that you can’t control.” Flat, hard words.

Cain held that cold stare. “I guess you’d know all about having a beast inside.” He didn’t like this bastard. Just what was his relationship with Eve? They were far too close.

Too close.

Jealousy burned in Cain’s gut.

Trace bared his growing fangs. “Yeah, I fucking would know.” He dropped his arms and stalked toward Cain. “She helped you, so now do her a favor …”

If Trace really knew what he was, then the wolf should be backing away, not coming closer. Unless he just wanted an ass-kicking.

The knot of jealousy spread within Cain.

“Get the hell away from Eve,” Trace told him bluntly. “Before she’s hurt again.”

The guy had him confused with someone who gave a shit about what he had to say. “She wants me close,” Cain murmured, not about to back down. Time to clear the air here. “So I’m not going anyplace.”

“Even if you put her at risk?”

Were the shifter’s claws starting to come out? They were. Fool. Fire trumped claws any day of the week. “I’m the one who can keep her safe.” The only one.

“Because you’re the big, tough, nightmare-myth, right?”

Myth. The word almost surprised him. It appeared that Trace did have a clue about just what Cain was. “Myths aren’t real.” Monsters were.

“Before my house—the house I damn well loved—got torched, I hacked into Wyatt’s computer.” Trace’s eyes showed only his cold rage as he studied Cain. “I read the files on you. I know what he did.”

“Good for you.” Cain tried not to let any emotion show on his face. He didn’t want to think about those days at Genesis.

“He killed you at least a dozen times.”

More. But Cain had stopped counting after a while. What had been the point?

“And each time you died, you rose back up. You burned and you rose.”

The shower had stopped. He could barely hear the faint drip, drip of the water.

“Silver bullets. Dismemberment.” Trace was rattling off a brutal list, and with every word he spoke, the memories flashed through Cain’s mind.

I was alive when they started dismembering me.

The bathroom’s wooden door opened. Eve stood there, dressed in the jeans and T-shirt that they’d picked up from a thrift store down the road. Her hair was wet, and her eyes were on Cain.

Trace locked his jaw and stopped talking. Finally.

Eve shook her head. “I want to hear this.” She was still pale, but she didn’t look as shell-shocked. Had she cried in the shower? Dammit, he hated that she hurt.

Wyatt would think nothing about the bombing at that shop. The people who’d died would just be collateral damage. Necessary sacrifices to achieve the big picture. Wyatt was all about the big picture.

Trace glanced at Eve. “You think you already know about him, don’t you?”

Her gaze lingered on Cain. “I know he didn’t set that shop on fire.”

“How do you know?” Trace demanded instantly. “Fire is his bitch to control, it’s—”

“His fire feels different.” She walked past the two men. Peeked out of the faded curtains, then turned back to face them. “That was a planned explosion. A bomb.” Her lips twisted. “Humans at work.”

Trace headed toward her and caught her wrist. Cain tensed. He didn’t like the handsy shifter. Not a fucking bit.

“He’s trouble, okay?” Trace said, leaning too close to Eve. Cain’s hands clenched as the werewolf continued, “Any being that can’t die—you don’t want to be around him.”

Eve’s gaze darted to Trace’s hand, then back to his face. “When you’ve got an army of trigger-happy jerks and a mad scientist after you, an unstoppable immortal is exactly who you need at your side.”

Her words slid over Cain like a warm caress, and he straightened his shoulders. The words weren’t the exact truth, though. He wasn’t immortal. He could be killed. Not by much, granted, but with the right weapon—

Her.

—he could taste his last death.

“Phoenix.” Trace tossed the word out like a curse. Maybe because that was what it was. “They’re not supposed to actually exist. But he”—Trace inclined his head toward Cain—“is real. And he’s one of the most dangerous monsters that I’ve ever met.”

Not one of the most. The most. The wolf needed to get his facts straight. And he needed to get his hands off Eve.

“He burns and he rises,” Eve said softly, her eyes on Cain.

“And ashes are left in his fucking wake,” Trace cut in. “Eve, shit, this is too dangerous for you. He’s too dangerous. Let’s get out of here and get you someplace safe.”

The wolf was pissing off Cain. Maybe it was time to singe some of that asshole’s fur—

“No.” Eve’s voice. Sharp. Demanding. “Don’t even think about hurting him, Cain.”

“What?” Trace snarled and he swung around, claws out. “Oh, come on, pyro, you just—”

“Stop!” Eve held up her hands. The hands that were still scratched and red. “In case you two jerks missed it, we’re all being hunted. We don’t have time for this alpha crap.”

It wouldn’t take much time. Cain was sure he’d have the wolf fleeing in about, oh, five seconds.

Maybe even three.

“We have to stop Wyatt,” Eve said, rubbing her forehead, “before he hurts anyone else.”

Cain would lay odds that the guy was undoubtedly out hurting someone else right then.

“His prey got away. Genesis was destroyed.” She swallowed. “So he’s probably looking for new test subjects.”

“Yeah,” Trace drawled, “and you’re one of them, sweetheart.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed as he took a step forward. The wolf was far too damn familiar with Eve. Touching. Using endearments. Sweetheart—my ass. Trace needed to back the hell off.

Cain had cut the shifter some slack since he’d been there with that getaway vehicle in the city, but that slack—yeah, it was ending.

“I can’t be the only one,” Eve argued. “He’s not going to stop his experiments. Wyatt will be out looking for more paranormals.”

And Jimmy Vance wouldn’t be supplying that “more” any longer.

“I’m not just going to wait for him to come and find me again. He wants a hunt?” Eve demanded. “Then I’ll give him a hunt. I’ll hunt that bastard.”

The exact plan that Cain wanted to follow. Only he wasn’t just planning a hunt.

I’m going to kill you, Wyatt. He’d watch the bastard burn to ash. There’d be no escape for him.

“How are you gonna do that?” Trace wanted to know. The werewolf shook his head. “You’re not a paranormal, Eve, you’re not strong enough to—”

Cain laughed. The wolf really didn’t know her that well. “Guess again,” he murmured.

Trace frowned.

Eve’s gaze lowered to the floor.

“Eve?” Trace said her name with uncertainty. “What’s going on?”

She’s not human. She’s not your fucking sweetheart. How about you choke on that?

But Eve wasn’t talking. Fine. He’d help her out. Cain took his time walking to her side. He lifted his hand and let the fire rise above his fingers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Trace shouted and then he charged at Cain.

Too late. The fire was already sliding toward Eve. The fire whispered over her arm, right over the flesh, then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Trace shoved him to the ground. Lifted his claws—

“The fire can’t hurt me,” Eve said. Her soft voice seemed loud in the quiet room.

Trace froze. Then he looked up at her. He shook his head … twice. “Eve … how?”

Because he’d been wanting to do it, Cain punched the wolf in the jaw. Trace’s head snapped back as he fell to the side. Cain lifted his hand, eager for another swing.

But Trace wasn’t fighting back. He just stared up at Eve and looked lost. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there wasn’t a lot to tell!” Her voice rose even as her body tensed. “Fire doesn’t hurt me. I don’t know why. It just … doesn’t.” Her gaze flew between them. “And I don’t know what I am, okay? When you don’t know what the hell you are, then what are you supposed to say?”

“You say something to your friends. You knew all my secrets,” Trace gritted out, rising slowly to his feet.

Cain shadowed his moves.

He didn’t like the wolf ’s tone and positioned his body near Eve’s. “Back off.” They had others to attack. “My fire can’t hurt her. She’s safe with me, got it?” That was all the guy needed to know.

The anger in Trace’s eyes—anger directed at Eve—the wolf needed to dial that shit back. Or Cain would dial it back for him.

“We can’t afford to waste the dark,” Eve said. She was right. The night was coming. Hunts were always easier in the dark. “We need to get out there and start hunting him. Every second we waste just gives Wyatt more time to collect new subjects and more time to come for us.”

Cain had never a fan of sitting back and waiting—for anything—and surely not for some bastard hunters to come and attack him.

But Trace was shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous, you need—”

“I know what I need,” Eve told him. Damn, but she was sexy. Fierce. Determined. “I need to keep my friends alive. I need to make sure that no one else dies because of me.”

Trace didn’t argue. Maybe he was getting smarter.

“So I’m hunting.” She threw the words out, and they sounded like a dare. “And I’m taking that bastard down.”

Vampire bars always smelled of blood and death. They also always sported a long line of eager humans, all dressed in Goth black, who were eager to get inside and play victims to the bloodsuckers.

Charlotte, North Carolina, had two vamp bars. One on each side of the city, because the vamps were extremely territorial. From what Eve had seen over the years, those parasites just didn’t share well.

Trace had taken the bar to the north, and Eve and Cain were headed to the one down south—the pit called Blood Bath. Nice name—if you were into getting your body drained and tossed away like garbage. Judging from the winding line of humans, it looked like a lot of folks were into that scene. Some people just begged for death. Eve didn’t get it.

They’d be meeting up with Trace the next day, after they’d all had time to do some recon work. They’d picked a meeting spot and scheduled the rendezvous for the afternoon. Hopefully, they’d have good intel by then.

Eve paused across the street from the club. Her heart was pounding too fast. She’d bandaged up her hands before she left the motel, a useless precaution. Even with the bandages, the vamps would be able to smell her blood.

They always closed in when they smelled fresh prey. They were like sharks that way.

“You sure you want to start with the vamps?” Cain asked as his arm pressed against her.

No, she didn’t want to start with them. The vampires were the last creatures she wanted to face, but … “Wyatt had a vampire at Genesis. If he lost one, he’ll want another.” What better place to pick up a new specimen? Vamps gorged at these bars. Got drunk on blood and the alcohol in their prey’s bodies and often passed out.

Snatching a vamp from a place like this would be child’s play for Wyatt.

She inhaled a deep breath. Could almost taste the blood in the air. “Let’s do this.”

But Cain stopped her. He blocked her path and stared down into her eyes. “Why do you fear them so much?”

“Uh, because they’re bloodsuckers with super sharp teeth and an unquenchable thirst for death?” What sane person wouldn’t fear them?

He shook his head. “Try again.”

Her jaw dropped. Her line had seemed perfectly believable. Well, most folks would have bought the line, anyway. Now wasn’t the time for a little heart-to-heart. She hated those talks. She’d already managed to make Trace angry by not telling him her secrets, and now Cain thought she’d just cut her soul open and reveal all to him on this crowded street?

Not gonna happen. “We have a club of vampires waiting about fifteen feet away.” Give or take a bit. “We don’t have time to pore over my issues with them right now.” The issues didn’t matter. She’d managed to control her fear plenty over the years, and Eve wasn’t about to break down. “I’ll keep it together, all right?”

His stare told her it wasn’t. “You don’t trust me.”

No, she didn’t.

His fingers brushed down her cheek. She barely controlled a shiver. The guy seemed to like touching her, sliding his fingers over her skin.

She liked it, too.

“Don’t worry,” Cain told her in that deep, rumbling voice that always made her knees want to jiggle—even when she was standing in front of a vampire bar. “I won’t let them get close to you.”

Promise? She clamped her lips together to hold that bit back. She didn’t want to look weak right then. Or ever.

Cain led her across the street. He didn’t get in that long line of eager humans. He headed right for the door. The bouncer glanced at him, baring fangs—but whatever he saw in Cain’s gaze had the guy stepping back.

Probably the flames. She could feel Cain’s body heating up beside her.

He shoved open the bar’s door, and the scent of blood grew even stronger. Music pounded. Humans moaned.

Vamps fed.

Lights flashed inside in a sickening whirl. Illuminating, then concealing. She saw the flash of fangs. Blood dripping down a woman’s throat.

The vamps had been the ones to start the paranormal coming-out party. They’d wanted an all-you-can-eat-buffet.

They’d gotten it.

She tried to see through the darkness. Vamps and prey. None of Wyatt’s hunters but …

Someone bumped her. “I like the way you smell,” a male voice whispered near her ear.

She stiffened. She smells so innocent … let me have a bite. The words were an echo from her nightmares. The ones that never stopped.

A hand was on her arm. Sliding over her skin. The fingers pressing against her were so cold. “You’re already bleeding,” the man murmured. “Want to give me a lick?”

“No, she fucking doesn’t,” Cain snarled and threw the vampire back a good ten feet.

The lights kept flashing around them.

But in those flashes, she saw that the vampires were moving. Rising. Closing in on them. Uh-oh.

“Cain …”

Vampires had closed in on her before. Only they hadn’t been hidden in the darkness. Fire had raged. Burned. Those flames had driven the vampires back right before their fangs could sink into her.

Let ’em all fucking burn. The words from her nightmares came again. The dark voice that she’d never forget. The vampire—he’d left her to the fire. Left her to die.

She’d screamed, but the vampires had run away and given her to the flames.

She’d been four years old. She’d screamed and screamed and screamed.

Blood and fire were a terrible mix.

“Someone’s scared,” a vampire whispered. When the lights flashed again, a big, tall, dark-haired vamp was two feet from her. Smiling. “Fear can taste so sweet.”

Cain pushed her behind him. “Know what doesn’t taste sweet? Fire.”

His fire blasted right at the vampire, who screamed and fell to the floor, rolling to put out the flames that were racing over his flesh.

The guy had to hurry … fire could kill a vampire. No stake to the heart needed.

The other vamps started to lunge forward.

But Cain just let more fire burn. He created a line of fire that separated him and Eve from the vampires. “Listen up!” he called out, voice clear and strong. “Unless you want this whole club to burn, some of you are gonna start talking.”

That wasn’t exactly the approach she’d planned to use. Eve had been hoping to talk quietly with some of the vamps, to ask some sly questions and broker some deals in the back of Blood Bath. She wanted a low profile.

She obviously wasn’t getting what she wanted.

“I want to know about a prick named Richard Wyatt!” Cain’s voice carried to every corner of the bar. “A bastard who’s been hunting your kind.”

The vampires were silent and they were damn well staying behind that line of fire.

“Tell me what you know about him,” Cain demanded, voice rumbling. “Tell me.”

A more subtle approach might have worked best, but …

“Come with me.” A male’s voice. Rising above the flames. A voice that seemed familiar.

The lights flashed again. Again. Eve saw the vampire who’d moved too close to the fire. A vampire with blond hair, wide shoulders, and a face that she knew.

The vampire from Genesis.

Her fingers curled around Cain’s shoulder. “Let’s talk to him.”

The flames died.

A few smart humans ran out the door. The rest offered their necks again. Vamps went back to feeding. Business as usual. Guess it took more than a little fire to rattle those guys.

The blond vampire headed toward them with his hands up. His eyes were on her. “I owe you.”

She forced herself to breathe. The last time she’d gotten close to this guy, he’d tried to take a bite out of her.

“You’ve got to work on that fear,” he told her with a shake of his head. “It’s like an aphrodisiac to every vamp in the room. Don’t you know”—he gave a small pause—“we get off on fear?”

“And here I thought it was just the blood,” she muttered with a glare.

Cain was beside her, and, yeah, she was sure grateful for his strength. Without him, would she have been able to go into the vamp bar? She would have tried, but the stark truth was … vampires terrified her. When they’d closed in …

She forced her muscles to unlock. “We need to talk. Privately.” Not in the middle of that chaos. Preferably in a room with a lot fewer vampires.

The blond vamp pointed to the left. She couldn’t see anything that way, but she followed the vamp and Cain. They headed down a hallway and slid inside another pitch-black room.

The vamp’s hand hit the wall, and lights flooded on. The brightness had her blinking as spots danced before her eyes.

When the spots vanished, the vampire was staring at her.

“I’m Ryder Duncan.” He offered a faint smile, one that showed the sharp edge of a fang. “I didn’t get to introduce myself the last time we met.”

No, he’d been too busy trying to bite her—while she’d been fighting to save him.

Ryder’s gaze swept over to Cain. “I see you’re still playing guard. Haven’t let her get away yet, have you?”

Uh, what?

Cain glared back at him. “Where’s Wyatt?”

“Seems we’d both like to know that,” Ryder said, face hardening. “That bastard has something I want, something I need, and I will be getting it back.”

Great for him. “Did you see Wyatt that night? Did you see him escape?” Eve needed to know.

Ryder shook his head. “Not then. I thought the guy burned. It wasn’t until the next day that I started to hear the stories.”

Cain stepped toward him. “Just what stories did you hear?”

“Some of those who escaped … they said Wyatt retreated to his second lab.”

A second lab? Eve’s stomach knotted. There were more paranormals being held out there? Being tortured?

She’d tried so hard to research Genesis before she’d gone in, but the place was surrounded by miles and miles of red tape. She’d bribed her way to some security files and learned what she could.

The original Genesis Foundation had been created over forty years ago, by Richard Wyatt’s father Jeremiah. After his death, Richard had taken over the family business.

What a twisted, bloody business it was.

Two labs.

“Wyatt’s got a bounty on you both.” Ryder’s gaze—a sharp, cold green—went from Cain back to Eve. “Seems he wants you two very, very badly.”

“Badly enough to kill,” Eve said.

Ryder nodded. “And he’s got plenty of firepower behind him.”

Yes, she knew that part. Cops at his beck and call. Guards armed to the teeth. So what? Richard Wyatt would still go down. She’d make sure of it.

“Do you know where he is?” The question was Cain’s.

Ryder hesitated, then shook his head.

“Then what good are you?” Cain asked him as he lifted his hands.

Ryder took a fast step back. “Easy, easy. Shit. I’m not looking for you to send your flames at me again.”

When had Cain done that?

Ryder exhaled on a hard breath. “I don’t know where he is, but I know how to get the guy to come to us, okay? I know how to bring the bastard right out into the open so we can take him.”

Now that was sounding promising. “And how do we do that?” Eve wanted to know. The sooner they took Wyatt out, the better.

Ryder’s attention focused on her. “We give him what he wants. We give him … you.”