One brow rose even as he kept stroking her flesh. “You’ve got a devious mind.”
Yes, she did.
His head bent toward her. His lips were bare inches from hers. “If a vampire ever tries to bite you again . . .”
She shivered at the lethal sound of his voice.
“I swear I’ll kill him before his teeth ever touch your flesh.”
Her wrist seemed to throb. She gazed into his eyes and saw the certainty of that dark promise. “If a vamp ever tries to bite me again”—she brought her lips closer to his—“I swear I’ll kill him myself.”
She kissed Cain, pressing her lips tight against his. Eve needed his taste. Wanted him so much.
The ache inside her never seemed to stop. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as much as she wanted him.
His tongue brushed over hers. Thrust into her mouth. She rose onto her toes, holding him tighter. She wanted to get closer to him. Skin to skin—only that would be good enough.
He lifted her up. Pushed her back against the cold, metal body of the car that Ryder had left behind. His mouth didn’t leave hers. Her hands were on his shoulders. His hands bit into her waist.
His tongue . . .
A moan built in her throat. It had to be wrong to want someone so much.
But . . . being wrong . . . oh, it could feel good.
Cain’s head lifted. His gaze, simmering with dark fire, met hers. Eve’s breath came out in a low rush. She couldn’t look away from him.
Not even when she heard the shuffle of footsteps heading toward them. When she heard the cocking of a rifle, it was Cain who turned to face the new attack, not her.
“What the hell are you doin’ to that girl?” a fierce voice demanded.
Eve knew the voice had to belong to the old man, the one who’d been sleeping in the motel’s office.
“Nothing she doesn’t want done,” Cain murmured back.
I’d definitely wanted it. She still did. The threat of a rifle wasn’t cooling her lust.
“Either get a room and pay me,” the guy snapped, “or get off my property.”
Eve caught Cain’s hand. “We’re leaving.” They were so close to Beaumont. They’d be safe only after they took down Wyatt, after they ended the twisted manhunt that he had launched on them.
The man, hands trembling a bit, lowered his rifle. As Eve and Cain walked by him, his gaze swept over them. Seemed to linger a bit on her face.
It’s dark. He won’t see much.
“You—you sure you don’t want a room?”
Eve frowned. The guy was trying to get them to stay?
“Just forget you ever saw us,” Cain advised him, opening the passenger door for Eve and ushering her inside their borrowed ride. “It’ll be better that way for you.”
When they pulled away from that little motel, Eve glanced back. The old man was still standing in the middle of the parking lot, watching them.
James Andrews didn’t move until the red taillights had disappeared. But as soon as that car vanished, he sucked in a deep breath.
That man’s eyes had glowed with fire.
James pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialed the number he’d called a dozen times before . . . ever since he’d started working with Doctor Richard Wyatt.
His motel didn’t get a lot of business. Too old. Too hidden. But the supernaturals, hell, they loved to stop by his motel.
Maybe because it was hidden. Maybe they thought they’d be safe, nestled in the little rooms that were surrounded by mountains.
They thought wrong.
On the third ring, his call was answered. The person didn’t speak to him, but James knew the drill. “A man and a woman were just at my place, ” he said, “and the guy . . . his eyes were on fire.” The damnedest thing he’d ever seen.
James heard the swift inhalation of air on the other end of the line.
“Why didn’t you keep them there?” Wyatt demanded. “You know what you’re supposed to do when the paranormals come to you.”
James was supposed to do the usual routine. The one that brought him cash, and made the freaks disappear. Normally, he gave them one of the special rooms. When they slept, he pumped the place full of gas—some brew Wyatt had made. The supernaturals didn’t wake up, not even when Wyatt’s men came to haul them away.
And James got a nice bit of money for his trouble.
It was the perfect deal for him. Hell, he hadn’t even needed to install the vents in the rooms. Wyatt’s men had taken care of everything. Set up the ventilation system, got the drugs all in place for him.
All I have to do is give the supernaturals the right room key.
It was a perfect deal for him.
“They wouldn’t take a room.” His mistake. He’d come off too aggressive. At first, he’d thought he was dealing with humans. He’d heard their voices as they argued, though, and he knew . . . “But they’re coming your way. I heard ’em mention Beaumont.”
He didn’t want to know how those two had found out about Beaumont. He sure as hell would never go there. If he did, James knew he’d find too many supernaturals gunning for him.
“Thanks for the tip.” A brief pause. “You’ll be getting your payment soon.”
James smiled. He was getting close to retirement. A few more grand, and he’d kiss these mountains good-bye.
The call ended. James took his rifle and his phone and headed back toward the motel. Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet.
“Bad mistake . . .” The words seemed to drift on the wind.
James spun around. But no one was there.
“I remember you . . .” That voice again. Dark. Angry.
James dropped his phone and clutched his rifle tighter. He started to back up, heading toward the office.
He backed right into something. Someone.
James spun around, lifting his gun.
The gun was snatched from him. Tossed away.
A man stood before him. No, not a man. The bastard before him had fangs. “Do you remember me?” the vampire asked.
Blond hair. Tall. Big. With death in his eyes.
Gulping, shaking, James shook his head.
“Maybe you’ve drugged so many of us that you just can’t remember. . . .”
He couldn’t. He tried not to remember. But sometimes, those faces still slipped into his nightmares. “P-please . . .”
“Please make it quick?” the vampire finished.
No, that hadn’t been—
The blond grabbed James’s throat and yanked him forward. “I will because, you see, I have other business tonight.”
James tried to break free, but the vamp was too strong.
“You sent me to hell,” the vampire told him. “Now guess where you’re going.”
James couldn’t scream. The pressure on his throat was too much. Then the fingers lifted. He sucked in air.
The vampire plunged his teeth into James’s neck. The bite was brutal. A burning pain that ripped and tore and he could hear the vampire gulping and drinking and . . .
James hit the ground. Everything was even darker. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He could hear the drumming of his heartbeat. So loud, but growing . . . slower.
“Now I’ve got to go.” The vampire’s voice. The guy was walking away. Leaving him to die alone on the dirt. “You know how it is . . . places to go, more people to eat . . .”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Eve hunched down beside Cain as they studied the Beaumont facility. It hadn’t been too hard to find the place. They’d spotted a black SUV as soon as they entered the small town, seen the two men driving, and tagged them for military. Since the rest of the town consisted of boarded-up old buildings, the shiny SUV had instantly caught their attention.
From what she could tell, Beaumont was a ghost town—the perfect place for Wyatt to conduct more of his experiments.
Once they’d spotted the SUV, it had just been a matter of following those guys back to Wyatt and his facility.
Another lab. A tall, chain-link fence surrounded the facility. The fence was topped with barbed wire. Eve counted four guards patrolling near the gate—and there was only one gate. They were armed. Very armed. Rifles in their hands. Two guns strapped to each hip. Overkill.
“Guess they don’t want any visitors,” she said, voice soft. So much for being a big, old voluntary facility.
She couldn’t tell much about the building. It was big, made of heavy stone, and the back of the place seemed to sink into the side of the mountain. Eve was willing to bet that they were looking at the top layer of the lab.
With Wyatt, what you saw wasn’t what you got.
“How many layers?” Eve muttered, frowning. Just how many levels were there in that place? How far down would they have to go?
“No sign of the vampire,” Cain said, his own eyes sweeping over the facility. “Or if he’s been here, he didn’t leave any blood in his wake.”
Eve swallowed. “There are cameras stationed every five feet on the building.” They could take out the guards, but they’d be monitored on-screen. Unless . . . “Think you could raise some fire?” The fire and smoke could block out their image. With that distraction and smoke cover, they could get inside the gate.
Cain gave her a smile with a wicked edge. “Always.” The flames flickered in his eyes. “But I’ll need a charge . . .”
What?
He had her in his arms. Crushed against his chest. His lips took hers. So wild and hot. His hands were in her hair and she found her nails digging into his shoulders.
Heat built between them. She could actually feel the rise of the fire. Burning, burning . . .
Then he was gone. Pulling away from her and moving so fast, he’d already knocked out the four guards before she could even lift her fist. Then a wall of fire and smoke surrounded the building.
So much for the cameras.
Eve bent down and scooped up one of the guards’ weapons. The gun, a Glock, felt heavy in her grip. She took a deep breath, one full of smoke and fear, and headed after Cain.
She saw another gun just a foot away. Why take just one weapon . . . ?
Cain had already yanked open the main door. She could hear sirens blaring. Fire alarms. The fire would cause confusion. Chaos. There wasn’t a better time to slip inside.
“Stand down.” Wyatt’s voice blasted through the intercom system.
Eve’s fingers tightened around the gun. “Let’s go.” There was a stairwell to the left.
A guard rushed at them.
Cain threw him back. The guy slammed into the wall.
Cain kicked open the stairwell door. The area was small inside, cramped. They hurried down. Opened another door—
“I told you to stand down,” Wyatt said.
There he was. Just waiting in the middle of the hallway.
Only he wasn’t alone. A dozen armed guards were behind him, and Trace was in front of him. The werewolf was on his knees, and Wyatt had a gun shoved against Trace’s temple.
“Silver bullets, of course,” Wyatt told them with a small smile. “Since silver is the only thing that keeps his kind down.”
Cain lunged forward, but Eve shoved her left hand against his chest. “Stop.” Cain was fast, but was he fast enough to beat Wyatt? One squeeze of that trigger, and Trace would die right in front of her eyes.
“I thought you might feel a certain . . . affection for the wolf.” Wyatt’s smirk was so knowing it sickened her. No, he sickened her. “Now toss away the gun, Eve.”
She tossed it. Good thing she’d taken the liberty of grabbing two guns. The other one was tucked in the back of her jeans, hidden below her shirt. Wyatt probably hadn’t seen her grab the other gun, thanks to the smoke and fire. She just had to get close enough to use her backup weapon.
Close enough to blow that smirk off his face.
“Come toward me, Eve,” Wyatt said.
She could get close enough. She took one step.
Cain grabbed her arm, freezing her. His hold was tight enough to bruise. “You don’t move.” Then he was in front of her. “I’ll give you five seconds to let the werewolf go. To let your men get the hell out of here.”
Eve’s hand began to inch toward her second weapon. Cain was so big, a perfect wall to shield her movements.
“Five seconds,” Cain said again and she could smell the scent of smoke. She knew the scent was coming from him. “Or I’ll burn this whole bitch of a facility down around us all.”
The fire wouldn’t hurt him. Or her.
But it would kill Wyatt and the humans. And Trace.
Her hand froze. “Cain?” Okay, she’d known that he planned to torch the place, but she’d thought he’d do that after they got all the prisoners out.
“You’re not caging me again,” Cain told Wyatt, his voice dark. Deadly. “You’re not caging anyone.”
Murmurs came from the guards. The shuffle of feet as they no doubt started to back the hell up.
“Five.” Cain’s voice cut through the room.
“You won’t burn me!” Wyatt’s shout.
Eve was sure he would.
“Four.” Cain hadn’t moved. His legs were braced apart, his hands up at his sides. Eve shifted to the left, and she could see fire swirling above his open palms.
“Eve!” Wyatt was sounding desperate. “Stop him, Eve, or you’ll never know what you are.”
Was he really going to toss that at her? Like he knew anything about her. Eve’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t fall for his tricks.
“Three.”
But she couldn’t let Trace die. Could Cain control his flames? Send them out to attack a specific target? She tried to edge around Cain to see Trace. She was sweating and her hands were shaking.
“I know what you are, Eve!” Wyatt was sweating, too. But he still had his gun to Trace’s temple. Trace just stared forward, eyes glassy. Drugged.
“You don’t know,” she whispered. This was her moment. She’d pull up her gun, shoot Wyatt.
What if he shot Trace?
“Two.” Cain’s determined voice. The flames flared higher.
“She was just like you!” Wyatt yelled. The gun lifted one inch from Trace’s head. “The fire couldn’t hurt her, because of what she was!”
No. “My mother died in a fire.”
Wyatt’s gun rose more. Eased away from Trace’s head. “That’s what the world was supposed to think. The vamps killed her long before the fire ever touched her. Fire never could hurt her.” Wyatt’s eyes were on Eve. “Want to know the truth? I can tell you! I can—”
“One.” Cain’s hands lifted.
“I don’t want the truth. I want you to get the hell away from my friend.” She yanked up her gun and fired.
The bullet caught Wyatt in the shoulder and he staggered back. All the guards with him immediately lifted their weapons to fire, but Cain sent a giant ball of fire rolling toward them. The men yelled and most dropped to the floor. One shot his weapon, but the bullet missed her and—
Wyatt was laughing.
Eve lunged forward and grabbed Trace’s hand. “Come with me.” She yanked him toward her and they fell to the floor.
Wyatt was still laughing.
She looked up. He’d yanked open his shirt to stare down at the bullet wound. Only . . . the wound was closing. Wyatt’s eyes were bright and wild and he was lifting his gun to aim it at her.
Richard Wyatt wasn’t human. Or, at least, he wasn’t anymore. Eve realized the scientist had been playing Frankenstein with his own body. Just what had he become?
Eve targeted her own weapon on him. So the first shot hadn’t done any good. Maybe the next would.
She fired the gun, even as he did. But his bullets didn’t hit her. Trace had lunged up. The silver bullets thudded into his chest. He grunted and fell back. Wyatt kept firing, until his empty gun clicked.
“One protector down,” Wyatt muttered. He didn’t seem fazed by the growing fire. The guards had backed up, getting away from
the fire, but they had their weapons ready. The sprinklers burst on from overhead, drenching everyone in the hallway. Eve stayed crouched on the floor, but Cain stalked forward.
Her bullets had hit Wyatt, but the man was still on his feet.
“Science can beat the supernatural,” Wyatt said, sounding perfectly normal, as if he hadn’t been shot multiple times. “What we can do is amazing, really.”
Cain reached through the flames and grabbed Wyatt. As she watched, Cain snapped the man’s neck. Wyatt fell to the floor.
Her breath choked out. Over. Just like that, Wyatt was dead.
“Come on!” Cain grabbed Eve’s hand and pulled her to her feet as he sent a rush of fire at the remaining guards. “Get the hell out of here!” he yelled at them.
They scrambled. Didn’t even try to fight. With the fire raging, how could she blame them?
Snap.
Eve stiffened. Even over the flames, she’d heard that sound. Bones snapping. Popping.
She glanced over her shoulder. Wyatt was standing up again. Tilting his head from side to side as he popped the bones of his neck back in place.
“Nice try,” he murmured, his eyes on Cain. “Now it’s my turn.”
But instead of coming at them, he jumped back.
Just as all the guards were heading back. Carefully moving away from them.
Trap. Eve knew it, too late.
The floor began to tremble beneath them. No, not just tremble. Move.
No wonder the guards were backing up. She glanced over her shoulder. The stairwell had been sealed off. Armed guards stood in front of the door. The floor beneath them, holy hell, the floor was opening, opening . . .
Cain grabbed Eve and hauled her toward the nearest wall. There was only darkness in that growing hole. The hole that had once been the floor.
“Trace!” She screamed his name as she saw his body fall into that black pit.
The entire floor seemed to break loose. She and Cain fell, tumbling down into the darkness below. He held her as they dropped, wrapping his body around hers. When they hit the bottom, she felt the thud of the impact vibrate through their bodies.
They’d fallen into darkness. Complete and total darkness. Cain’s head and back had slammed into the floor, but he didn’t ease his grip on her. His hands tightened.