Once Bitten, Twice Burned

EPILOGUE

Cassie paced down the narrow corridor. The fluorescent lights barely flickered over her head. She’d made the serum from the phoenix’s tears, and the primal cure had actually worked.

The tears from the phoenix were amazing. She’d been able to inject Vaughn Adams, and, while he hadn’t become human again, he’d managed to leash the beast that had been created within him. He could function once more. Could control his ravenous hunger.

He didn’t have a mouthful of fangs. Actually, he only had two fangs now. Just like any other vampire. His knife-like claws had vanished. His eyes showed sanity, not the delirium of the beast.

And there was enough serum left that she could possibly treat five other primals. If any others were still out there.

The tears had been just what she needed. But a phoenix couldn’t exactly cry on demand. It seemed that only a life-or-death situation could bring forth the tears of a phoenix. The phoenix had to care, had to love.

And had to break before the tears would fall.

Ryder wasn’t about to let his phoenix break again, so Cassie knew there would be no more tears from Sabine. But Sabine had done more than any other before her. She’d shed tears to save Ryder, and the female phoenix must have also cried to save Cassie’s life.

Because Cassie knew that she’d been about to die. She’d felt the cold touch of death sweeping over her. But she’d recovered. Cheated death. All because of a phoenix’s tears.

Thank you, Sabine.

The floor creaked behind her.

Cassie froze.

She should be alone on this level of her lab. She’d been working with a wolf shifter—one who’d been the unfortunate prisoner of Richard Wyatt—but she was making headway with him. He was housed downstairs, but that creak . . .

It came from steps behind me.

Slowly, she turned around. In the shadows at the end of the hall, she could just make out the tall, dark form of a man.

And she could see his eyes. Glowing, burning with flames.

Her heart slammed into her chest.

Those eyes had haunted her memories. Her nightmares.

“Hello, Cassandra,” his deep, rumbling voice seemed to pour over her, “I’ve missed you.”

Then Dante stepped forward, and Cassandra was pretty sure that her world stopped.

He couldn’t have cried for her. Dante didn’t care about anyone. Not anything.

He couldn’t have.

He was coming for her. Stalking slowly out of the shadows. Cassie didn’t know if she should scream or reach for him.

“Cassie?”

Another voice. Coming from the opposite end of the hall. Cassie whirled around and saw Ryder striding toward her. He’d just come up the stairs. A frown pulled down the handsome lines of his face.

Ryder . . . right . . . he’d said that he would stop by to check on the serum’s progress and on the status of the werewolf. Somehow, Ryder knew the wolf. Seemed to actually want to help him, too.

He’s making amends, just like me.

Ryder glanced over Cassie’s shoulder, then he looked back at her. “Is everything all right?”

What? Of course, things weren’t all right. A phoenix was stalking her, he was—

She looked behind her. The hallway was empty. There weren’t even any shadows there. Just a too-bright fluorescent light.

Cassie shivered.

What was happening to her?

He touched her arm, and she flinched. “S-sorry . . .” A phoenix is haunting me. Wherever I go, I feel like he’s with me. She forced her shoulders to straighten. Cassie cleared her throat. “I need to tell Sabine how much I appreciate all that she’s done.”

“Sabine wanted to help Vaughn.”

Because Sabine was a good person. Sabine wanted to help everyone.

And she was doing it all out of the goodness of her heart. Not just because she was trying to erase the black sins from her soul. Not like me.

“She saved me,” Cassie continued, clearing her throat. I imagined Dante. He wasn’t there. I’ve just been working too hard. That was the story of her life. “I was a stranger to her, I—”

Ryder’s tightening expression told her all that she needed to know.

Not Sabine.

“It took Sabine a while to get her control back.” Ryder shook his head. “You . . . you wouldn’t have lasted that long.”

Her lips were numb. Her cheeks. Her hands. “What happened to me?”

“Dante took you from the room.” A muscle flexed along the hard line of his jaw. “Then the next thing I knew, you were rushing back inside and shooting at Vaughn.”

Because she’d woken to the smell of fire. Her throat had still been bleeding. Her fingers rose and traced over the healed skin. She’d heard the screams and she’d rushed into the burning back room.

Sabine had been alive then, the only phoenix she’d seen there. And Dante, he hated her, so why would he have brought her back? Why would he have wasted a single second on her, much less actually shed a tear?

A shiver skated over her. Impossible. The wounds just must not have been as severe as she’d thought. Ryder was mistaken about what he’d seen. Obviously, the guy had been distracted as he focused on saving Sabine. There had been so much fire and smoke. He hadn’t seen clearly.

I dragged myself out of the room. Yes, that’s what happened. Then I got . . . I got stronger when I breathed some fresh air. I was able to go back inside and help the others.

“Why do you look so scared?” Ryder asked her as he tilted his head to study her. “Has someone been threatening you?”

She remembered eyes that burned. “N-no.” Cassie forced a smile. “Everything is fine. The patients are getting better.” The nightmare that was Genesis—it was over.

Dead.

She wouldn’t tell Ryder about Dante. Besides, there was nothing to tell. Just the nightmares that were now haunting her days.

And the dreams that haunted her nights. Dreams of Dante touching her. Calling for her.

She grabbed her stethoscope. “Let’s go check on the wolf.”

Her steps tapped over the tile. Cassie didn’t look back, but she could have sworn that she smelled . . .

Smoke.

And where there was smoke . . .

A phoenix often waited.