Playing With Fire

by Cynthia Eden

“What will you do if you can’t save them?”

  She jerked at Dante’s voice.

  “The shifter that waits for you . . . what if you can’t save him?”

  “I will save him.”

  Dante shook his head. “That’s not an answer, you know.”

  No, it wasn’t. Because she didn’t have an answer.

  “Will you be able to put him down? Sometimes, death is the only cure.”

  She didn’t want to think about that, but . . . Dante was right. She looked down at her injured arm. Death is the only cure.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It didn’t look like much of a lab to Dante.

  He braked the truck. Checked the scrawled directions that Cassie had given to him before she’d passed out. Yes, it was the place.

  It looked like a hole-in-the-wall.

  His head turned, and he glanced down at Cassie. She was beside him, her head sagging on his shoulder. The boy had finally asked to come up front when the sun rose, and they’d all crammed in together.

  The boy hadn’t slept though.

  Not that Dante blamed the kid. When you watched your family die, it didn’t usually put you in the mood for sleep.

  “What did she do to him?” Jamie asked, his voice a whisper. It was the first time the kid had talked to him since he’d joined their little road trip from hell.

  Dante glanced over at him, and found Jamie’s eyes on his.

  “My brother. She killed him, didn’t she?”

  “He killed himself.” The minute he’d taken her blood, he’d been dead.

  Jamie shook his head. “I saw . . . he was convulsing after he drank her blood.” His gaze darted to Cassie even as he kept his voice whisper quiet. “What did she do?”

  “She lived.” Dante wanted to brush aside the hair that had fallen over her face, but the kid was watching him far too closely.

  “What are you?” An even softer whisper.

  Dante held his stare. “I’m the man you don’t ever want to cross, because if you do . . . if you do anything to hurt me or to hurt her, you won’t have to beg me for death.” The boy needed to get this message. Clearly. “I’ll kill you before you can even scream.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened, nearly filling his face, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You don’t scare me.”

  “Yes, I do.” Dante scared everyone. Even Cassie, though he knew she tried to act like she didn’t fear him. He’d caught glimpses of the fear in her eyes. “She wanted you to come with us, so you did. If it had been up to me . . .”

  “You would have left me alone out there.”

  Damn straight. Dante gazed steadily back at him. “Don’t ever give me reason to regret hauling you out of that swamp.”

  “Dante?” Cassie’s husky voice asked. “We aren’t moving. We’re—” She sat up, snapping to attention. “We’re here!”

  Yes, wherever here was.

  She shoved against him, trying to get out. Dante slid over and when she hurried toward the ramshackle buildings, he followed her.

  Jamie was on his heels.

  “This is your lab?” Dante asked, voice doubtful. It looked like they were in the middle of an old corn field, and the buildings that surrounded them looked like abandoned barns.

  “Don’t let appearances fool you.” Her voice was actually perky. “This place was set up by the government back in the fifties. They forgot about it.” She pushed aside some wood that was near the door of the barn and quickly punched in a code on a security screen. “My father didn’t. I didn’t.”

  “Identify yourself,” a computer voice demanded.

  “Doctor Cassandra Armstrong,” she said at once.

  The barn door opened—but they didn’t head into a real barn.

  The door slid open to reveal an elevator.

  “Told you,” Cassie said, sounding pretty satisfied with herself. “Appearances can deceive you.”

  “That is freakin’ cool,” Jamie said.

  Dante frowned at him.

  “Now, we’re heading down to the lab.” She bit her lip.

  “I’ll send Charles back up to hide the truck.”

  They were descending, a fast descent that Dante thought took them down two floors. When the door opened again, a thin man with curly hair was standing in front of them.

  “Cassie!” He rushed toward her. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back!”

  The man was hugging her far too tightly.

  Dante decided that he didn’t like him.

  “I’m sorry, Charles. It took a bit . . . longer than I’d thought for the retrieval mission.”

  Charles glanced over at Dante. His gray eyes doubled in size. “It’s him.”

  The him could hear.

  “Is he going to kill us?” Charles whispered as he edged behind Cassie. “It looks like he wants to. It looks like he wants to fry us both!”

  Cassie laughed, and the light sound caught Dante off guard. Her laugh was so sweet he wanted to hear it again.

  “No, he’s not going to kill us,” she said. “He’s here to help us.”

  Not really, but they’d get around to the true reason for his visit later.

  “And the boy?” Charles asked with a questioning glance toward Jamie.

  “We need to keep him safe . . . and use our ties to find some of his family who can take care of him.”

  Jamie’s chin jutted up in the air. “I told you, my family is—”

  “There was a primal attack,” Cassie said quietly. “His brother didn’t survive.”

  Charles’s gaze dropped to the bloody shirt that was still wrapped around her arm.

  Jamie’s shoulders hunched.

  “Can you . . . can you put him in one of the unoccupied rooms?” Cassie asked softly. “Give him something to eat?”

  Charles nodded. “As long as he doesn’t mind the locks on the doors.”

  Jamie backed up, edging toward the elevator.

  “It’s okay!” Cassie quickly reassured him. “Some of the . . . patients here can’t be let out.” Her voice was soothing. “You won’t be locked in, Jamie. You’re free to go anytime you want. I was just offering you a safe place to stay while we looked for your family.”

  “I told you, I have no family.” The kid was pretty vehement on that point. “Tim and I were in the foster system till he turned eighteen, then he got me out.” Jamie’s hands had fisted in front of him. “He said we weren’t ever going back.”

  And now Tim was dead.

  No, there would be no going back for him.

  “If you decide to leave”—Cassie kept talking in that same soothing voice—“I just ask that you tell no one about us. Forget this lab. Forget me. Forget Dante.”

  Damn if she wasn’t soothing Dante, too, and he hadn’t even realized he’d needed soothing.

  The kid’s eyes were like saucers. “Are you making monsters down here? Like I saw on the news—that Genesis place that got blown up—”

  “We’re healing the monsters,” Cassie said carefully. “Not making them.”

  Did she believe that lie? It sure seemed as if she did.

  But Jamie was nodding. Ah, he bought the lie, too. “I-I’ll stay, for now.”

  “Good.”

  Charles hurried forward. “Come with me, uh—what’s your name?”

  “Jamie.”

  “Come with me, Jamie.”

  Dante noticed that Charles gave him a particularly wide berth as the man took the boy down the hallway.

  And just like that, he was alone with Cassie again.

  “I need to check on Trace.” She turned away from him.

  Hold the hell up. He caught her arm and turned her right back around. “We’ve been traveling non-stop.” For more hours than he wanted to think about. “You were captured by some military assholes, you were bitten by vampires—and the first thing you want to do is go and check on him?” Jealousy was there, clawing at him.

  “I have to see if Trace’s condition is still stable.”

&n
bsp; Screw that. “Cassie . . .”

  She pulled away from him. “I have a room down at the end of the hall.” Her hand rose, and she pointed to the left. “You can go rest in there. I’ll see you in a little bit, okay?”

  No, that isn’t okay.

  But the woman didn’t wait for an answer. She just spun on her heel and went down the hallway that branched to the right. Did she think that he was Charles? About to jump at her every little command?

  She needed to rethink that.

  He began to stalk after her. He wanted to see this Trace that she talked about so often. The man that she was desperate to save.

  The man that was in his way.

  Dante needed Cassie to have ties only to him. In the life that he would have with her, there would be room for no others.

  She needed to leave everything behind. Everyone else.

  She would. It was just a matter of time.

  He headed down the hallway, his steps silent. Cassie was up ahead of him. He could see her as she tapped on a control panel before one of the rooms.

  The place might have been built in the fifties, but it had undergone some serious upgrades. Just who had made those improvements? Suspicion swelled in him.

  Cassie entered the room.

  A wolf’s howl seemed to shake the lab, echoing up that hallway.

  That was no man. That was a beast.

  A fully transformed werewolf.

  Shit. Bellowing Cassie’s name, Dante raced down the hallway.

  Jon wasn’t following a trail of breadcrumbs. His eyes narrowed on the wreckage. He was following a path of fire.

  The phoenix had been there. And he’d left a dead vampire in his wake.

  “I’ve never seen a vampire like him,” Shaw whispered as she stared at the man’s claws. “Did you see his teeth?” Fear whispered through her words.

  Jon’s gaze left her. Slid around what remained of the lot. The motorcycle was there, tossed on its side. Cassie and Dante must have switched to a different vehicle. They wouldn’t have gone into the swamp on foot.

  “What is he?” Shaw asked.

  “He’s a primal,” Jon told her, the words coming quickly. “Trust me, it’s a good thing he’s dead.” But a very bad thing that he’d been out in the open. Someone needed to alert Uncle Sam to the fact that more of those freaks were out and infecting others.

  That someone wouldn’t be Jon. He still needed to stay off the grid.

  “Cassie’s tracking signal led us here.”

  He glanced over and saw Shaw frowning down at the phone in her hand—and at the tracking screen that had appeared on that phone.

  “She should be here.” Shaw seemed confused.

  Jon headed toward the primal vampire. “You put the tracker in her arm?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Is the signal still transmitting?”

  Shaw pointed to the vampire. “It says that she’s right there.”

  Dammit. “She isn’t, but the asshole who fed on her is here.” That was why the vamp was frozen. “Got a taste of her poison, didn’t you, dumbass?” Jon muttered to the dead man.

  “Wait, you’re saying he—”

  “When the vamp fed on her, he ate the tracker, and Cassie is long gone.” Fucking hell.

  Fury flooded through his body. He’d thought that he was close, that he would have her back by now—

  But she was gone.

  Gone.

  He whirled and grabbed Shaw, yanking her up against him. “You said you could find her!”

  Fear rolled off Shaw in waves that he could smell. Then she was gasping, twisting in his hold as she tried to break free.

  Smoke rose from her arm—from the touch of his fingers.

  He was blistering her flesh. In a few more moments, he’d give the bitch third degree burns.

  “I’m sorry!” she yelled. “Stop! Please, stop!”

  He didn’t want to stop, but he stepped back. For the moment. “I need Cassie.”

  Tears leaked down Shaw’s cheeks. “I know. You have to find her.”

  He did. The throbbing was back, nearly ripping through his temples. “She’s gone. There’s no tracker.” Fire burst from his fingertips. It would be so easy to put that fire against Shaw’s skin. “I have no fucking clue what kind of car she is in or where she went.”

  “Please! Keep the fire away!”

  The fire wasn’t touching her. He had control. For now. “She’s with the phoenix. Dante isn’t going to let her go. He’ll keep her close and—”

  Shaw stumbled back.

  He smiled. “A phoenix’s weakness.”

  She had fallen to the ground. “What?”

  “Do you know why there aren’t many phoenixes around?” His voice was mild.

  Shaw shook her head.

  “Because they can kill each other. They have, actually, over and over again.” He glanced at the wreckage. All of that wonderful fire. “They don’t know I’m alive.” A huge advantage for him. “When I start to burn, they’ll think it’s another phoenix.”

  “Burn? Burn what?”

  He glanced over at her. “Everything.”

  Every damn thing that Cassie had ever held dear. Good thing he knew her well. “I’ll light up Cassie’s world until Dante has to come for me, and when he comes, she’ll be there.”

  If he couldn’t find Cassie, then he’d smoke her out—literally.

  She’d come to him, and he’d get exactly what he wanted.

  I need her.

  Something inside Jon was pushing him to find her. Clawing to get out and get to her. Was it the phoenix? Dante’s beast had recognized Cassie as a mate. Jon knew that from the Genesis reports he’d read. During one of Dante’s desperate risings, that confession had broken from him. He’d claimed Cassie only once, but that slip-up had been noted by Genesis.

  Maybe Jon’s own, newly developed phoenix was experiencing that same instinctive recognition.

  “Why did Dante come for her at the ranch?” he asked.

  Shaw shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Dante had risked himself to go and rescue Cassie. Now . . . Jon was finding himself obsessed by her.

  Cassie’s blood was poison to vampires, a little tweak that her father had performed on her.

  But what if there was something . . . else . . . that had also been done to sweet little Cassie?

  Something that was drawing him to her. Something that was making him think . . .

  Mine.

  “We light up her world,” Jon said again. “And we bring her to me.” He’d find out what was happening and he’d get the tears that he needed.

  Failure wasn’t an option.

  Shaw rose slowly to her feet once more and nodded.

  “Cassie!”

  Dante grabbed her and yanked her away from the—what the hell? The howl had sounded as if it had come from a fully shifted werewolf, but Dante wasn’t staring at a beast.

  He also wasn’t staring at a man. Not really.

  But rather, he was looking at a combination of both.

  This was Trace?

  Trace saw him, and his lips peeled away from his teeth, revealing fully extended fangs. He jumped toward Dante, but the silver chains that were locked around his wrists and ankles jerked Trace back.

  Claws burst from the man’s fingers—long claws, easily as sharp as knives. Trace was big—too tall, too wide—with muscles bulging over his body. His eyes were wild, feral, glowing. Currently looking at Dante with a bright hatred.

  Trace’s features were sharp, hard, very much like a wolf’s, but he wasn’t a wolf.

  Was he?

  “Trace, please. Calm down!” Cassie said as she pushed Dante back. “I’m a friend, remember? Friend.”

  Those glowing eyes slid to her. The man-beast’s muscles bulged, and Dante was afraid that the guy was about to rip those chains right from the wall.

  He sure looked strong enough to do it.

  “I’m Cassie, remember? I help you.”<
br />
  “Help.” That guttural growl was no human’s voice. If a wolf could talk—that one could—Dante figured it would sound just like that snarling sound.

  Cassie nodded. “That’s right. Dante and I are both here to help you.”

  The glowing stare came back to Dante once more.

  Then the man-beast gave a sharp shake of his head. “Kill,” he growled as he looked straight at Dante.

  Dante’s eyes narrowed. Come on and try, beast. I’ll fry that fur right off you.

  Cassie hurried toward a cabinet on the right. She pressed her thumb against the screen on a small locking pad, and the lock hissed open. “I need to give him his dosage. He’s due for one now, and Charles always gets nervous when he has to come inside and do it.”

  Charles was afraid the wolf would eat him.

  The glowing stare followed Cassie’s movements. The beast looked like he wanted to make a meal of her.

  Not happening.

  “How much of him is man?” Dante demanded. He wanted to know just what he was dealing with in that room.

  “All of him,” Cassie snapped as she pulled out a needle from the cabinet. “Trace is in there, and from what I’ve determined, he understands everything we say.”

  Dante realized the beast was staring at him. He bared his own teeth. “Screw off.”

  The beast heaved against his chains.

  So he did understand.

  “Dante! Don’t! Don’t antagonize him in any way. Trace is inside, but the Lycan-70 dosage that he was given put his beast in charge. He can’t change back to his normal form, and he can’t shift fully. He’s”—her breath exhaled on a rush—“trapped like this.”

  In a form somewhere between man and beast.

  She headed toward Trace, acting like she didn’t see the claws and fangs that would rip her apart.

  Dante grabbed her.

  The man-beast snarled.

  Dante snarled right back then told Cassie, “You aren’t injecting him! Get Charles and his cowardly ass back in here to do the job!”

  She shook her head, sending her hair brushing over his arm. “Trace isn’t going to hurt me.”

  Dante wasn’t in the mood to test that theory.

  “He won’t,” Cassie said, sounding so sure. “I’ve given him dozens of injections, and he’s never attacked me.”