Sabine had never been cold. She’d been fire. She’d been life.
Carefully, gently, he released Sabine. He pressed a kiss to her lips.
Malcolm was laughing.
“Did you love her so desperately, brother? Is that why you made her into a vampire? Did you think she’d be with you forever?”
She will be. He’d never love anyone but her. In his heart, Sabine would always be there.
His gaze lifted. The human, Keith, was near the cage. His eyes were anguished as he looked back at Sabine’s body. In shock, he stood frozen.
And the other phoenix was on the ground. Ryder had broken his neck. The flames were flickering around him, and Ryder knew Dante would rise soon.
But until then . . .
I have plenty of time.
His hands trembled as he closed Sabine’s eyes. He didn’t want her to see what he’d do.
She’s not there to see . . . The whisper slid through him, but he ignored it. He could feel his mind splintering.
Without her . . .
Why?
His spine should have been severed by his brother’s claws, but Ryder rose to his feet. He’d found that he healed faster and faster these days.
Because of Sabine? Because of her blood? Her tears?
She’d done nothing but make him stronger.
He’d be nothing without her.
“I love her.” Love, not loved. Because his feelings weren’t just going to magically stop.
Malcolm’s lips parted in surprise. “You—”
Ryder drove his fist into his brother’s jaw. Sent him sprawling back to the floor. “Have you ever loved?” Ryder demanded.
Malcolm scrambled back.
“I hadn’t . . . not until her.” He grabbed Malcolm. Yanked him to his feet. This time, Ryder drove his fist into his brother’s stomach. “She made me stronger.”
Malcolm was spitting up blood.
“Do you think I’ve never wanted to close my eyes? To end this nightmare?” Ryder snarled at him.
The roar within him built.
Splinter . . .
“I’ve tried . . . my body heals . . . heals so fast, even faster now . . .” He slammed his head into Malcolm’s, breaking his brother’s nose. “You think you’re the only one who has ever felt insects crawling on you? Eating you? I went to ground in the fourteen hundreds, so tired of the slaughters committed by men and vampires alike. You were gone. And I hated what I’d become.” He’d ordered his own entombment. He’d finally clawed his way out of that imprisonment after a year. “But we can’t change what we are.”
Malcolm watched him with wide eyes.
We can’t change.
Ryder glanced over at Sabine. “I wanted to change for her.”
Sabine . . . his Sabine . . . she was . . .
Burning?
The scent of ash and fire hadn’t come from Dante. Dante was still lying on the floor, not moving. But Sabine was burning.
We can’t change.
Her eyes had still flickered with flames when she made love with him. When she’d touched the vamp’s chest back at Bran’s Castle, he’d seen smoke drift in the air.
He’d tried to convert Sabine, but the phoenix part of her hadn’t died, not completely. Maybe it could truly never die.
And the phoenix was rising again.
“What the hell . . . ?” Malcolm’s shocked voice cried out.
“Not hell,” Ryder muttered. Sabine was his angel, and she was coming back to him. Yes.
The fire spread over her body. Burning slowly at first, then blazing hotter, higher, until he couldn’t see her at all. Just the flames. Red and gold and beautiful.
“She’s burning.” Malcolm grabbed Ryder and spun him around. He put a gun to Ryder’s chest. Ryder didn’t even bother wondering where the guy had gotten his weapon. “You’ll never have her again!” Malcolm swore.
He’d have her in minutes. Ryder smiled at him. “Wooden bullets?” Because, of course, what else would you use against a vampire?
“They’ll knock you out,” Malcolm said, snapping his teeth. “Then I’ll take your head. I won’t leave it hanging with some tendons and flesh, the way you did with me.”
The smell of smoke filled the room. The crackle of the flames grew louder. Sweet, wonderful fire. “Was that my mistake?” Ryder asked him, holding his body still. He didn’t want Malcolm focusing on Sabine now. He’d heard that the moment of change was the weakest moment for a phoenix. They were vulnerable at that time. According to old whispers he’d heard centuries ago, the only time they could be truly killed was when they burned.
Sabine was vulnerable then. And—
And Dante had wanted to kill Sabine. The phoenixes . . . they kill their own kind.
The cold suspicion iced through him. Dante had come to New Orleans in order to find Sabine. He’d been tracking her. Trying to find the perfect moment to kill her? A moment like . . . now?
But he’d snapped Dante’s neck. Hadn’t he?
“Yes,” Malcolm hissed. “That was your fucking mistake, that was—”
Ryder yanked the gun from him. Fired the wooden bullet straight into Malcolm’s heart. “Good-bye, brother.” He wouldn’t feel the grief or the rage. Not then.
And he would finish the job, but first . . .
Ryder spun around. Dante was on his feet—tricky SOB—and advancing toward the flames that enclosed Sabine. Ryder ran for him and tackled the guy. “Stay away from her!”
Dante shoved him back.
That was when he noticed Cassie was in the corner. She watched them with pain-filled eyes as blood pulsed from her neck. “S-stop,” she whispered.
Dante and Ryder rose to their feet.
“Is this what you wanted?” Ryder demanded. “To attack my woman? To kill her when she was weak?”
Dante craned his neck, popping it as he turned his head to the left and the right. “Had to see . . . wasn’t even sure if she could burn anymore . . .”
She could burn just fine.
“You’re staying away from her,” Ryder said because he wasn’t about to let anyone get close to her when she was weak.
“She’s not even going to know you.” Dante smiled at him. A hard, evil grin. “When the fire dies away, I’d say you’ve got about a five percent shot of her even remembering who you are. Do you know that? The fire can take away our memories. Leave us with nothing but ashes. She’ll see you, see your monster and just want to run from you. That is, if she doesn’t go for your throat first.”
“That’s a chance I’ll take.” Maybe she wouldn’t remember him, then, fine, he’d just make her fall for him again. This time, things would be different. She wouldn’t have to know the pain of their first meeting. She wouldn’t remember the bite or the blood or—
No.
He didn’t want any memories taken from Sabine. She deserved to have every instance in her mind, good and bad and everything in between.
Dante’s eyes narrowed as he studied Ryder. “I don’t understand you.”
Ryder shrugged. “What’s to understand?” Sabine, hurry, come back to me.
“I’ve seen you, over the centuries . . .”
Dante’s words shocked Ryder into silence. As far as he knew, only vampires lived for that long a period of time. Every other being he’d encountered had seemed to have an expiration date.
“You’ve killed,” Dante said, voice expressionless. “You’ve fought. You’ve left a trail of death in your path.”
Ryder lifted his chin. “Looking to throw some stones? What have you been doing for your centuries? Protecting the innocent?” Doubtful, given the way this guy enjoyed tossing around his flames.
Dante waved that away. “I know what you are, on the inside. Because I’m the same. The darkness. The need to kill, to fight, to destroy. It’s in us both.”
“I don’t want to destroy Sabine.”
His brother’s blood was on the ground. How long would he have before Malcolm rose? How long befo
re Sabine came back to him? Hurry, love. Don’t keep me waiting.
He had to stand guard over her burning form. He couldn’t leave, not even to finish his battle with Malcolm. Or rather, not even to finish him.
“Why not?” Dante asked. “What makes her different?”
Cassie started to choke. No, she’d been choking all along, slowly dying as she tried to beg them for help. Ryder saw that now as his gaze flew to her. She couldn’t speak. Her eyes screamed for her. Keith had finally shaken from his stupor and run to her, but there was nothing he could do to help.
“Will you save the human?” Dante asked as he cocked his head. “Will you rush to aid her, trying to even that bloody scorecard that you carry around with you? Saving human lives, to make up for all the ones you slaughtered?”
Cassie was dying in front of him.
“Or will you keep standing guard,” Dante murmured. “Over the phoenix who burns so brightly? A phoenix who may soon come for your heart.”
“She already has my heart.” Sabine could do with it whatever the hell she wanted.
Cassie had tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were desperate, but she shook her head when she gazed at Ryder. Her lips moved, just the faintest bit . . . Stay with her.
Sorrow had his own lips tightening. Cassie wasn’t like the others from Genesis. Perhaps she really had wanted to help.
For that kindness, she was receiving a slow and brutal death.
Then Ryder saw her eyes dart to Dante’s form. Her stare changed. Flickered with an emotion that he was becoming too familiar with these days.
Ryder’s breath left him in a rush. “She saved you.”
Dante frowned. “Sabine has done—”
“Not Sabine.” He didn’t want the man even speaking her name. Stay away from her. To keep Dante’s attention away from Sabine, Ryder said, “The human, Cassie, she’s the reason you escaped Genesis.”
Dante shook his head. His gaze darted to Cassie. His frown deepened.
“You don’t remember,” Ryder said as his heart raced. “Because they killed you, again and again.” The same lack of memory that Dante was using to taunt him, well, that same darkness, that nothingness, had erased Dante’s past.
A past that was dying less than three feet from him. And the guy didn’t even realize what he was losing. Not what, who.
A woman with love in her dying gaze.
“How do you think you got out?” Ryder pushed.
Dante’s stare was on Cassie. Her shirt was soaked red from the blood that had poured from her neck.
“Do you remember her? At all?” Ryder knew the emotion he’d seen in Cassie’s eyes. That kind of consuming need and longing was exactly what he felt for Sabine.
Dante turned away from Ryder. He gazed only at the woman before him. A woman who was wheezing as she tried to catch her last breath. “Cas . . . sandra? My . . . Cassandra?”
There was a whoosh of sound. Ryder whirled around. Sabine was on her feet. Surrounded by flames. Standing, with her hands up.
Malcolm was clawing at his chest, rising again, shouting, but Ryder couldn’t make out his brother’s words over the crackle of flames.
Flames that were snaking out. Racing over the walls. The ceiling.
She doesn’t have control.
Keith yelled as he ran back to the cage and fought to free his son. But if he let the beast out, what would happen then?
Vaughn would attack. Would kill others, infect more humans.
Dante crouched over Cassie. His hands were bathed in her blood. “Help her!” he roared.
But who could help her?
If the phoenix cried, perhaps his tears would heal Cassie.
Or my blood, maybe I can transform her. But no, Ryder couldn’t transform her, not with the poison that had been placed within her body.
And Sabine’s flames were growing. She’d kill all the humans there, if he didn’t stop her.
Ryder straightened his shoulders. Took a step toward the flames. They wouldn’t burn him. They hadn’t before.
But even if the flames did burn, wasn’t she worth the pain? Wasn’t she worth everything?
The flames licked around his feet. Rose over his legs. Burned his clothing.
Didn’t touch his skin.
“Sabine.”
Her head whipped toward him. He saw the fire in her eyes. Fire, but no recognition.
“Pull it back, Sabine, before you hurt the humans.”
She smiled.
The flames grew higher.
She was so fucking beautiful—and the deadliest thing he’d ever seen in his very long life.
“You don’t want to hurt them,” he said, closing in on her. Her flames were orange and gold. Big. Bright. “You don’t want—”
She lifted her hands and held them, palms out, toward him. “Stay back.”
No. “Do you know me?”
Sabine shook her head.
“I know you,” he whispered as he kept advancing. “This isn’t what you want. You don’t want to kill.”
But her smile said otherwise. “I like the fire. I want to burn. Destroy.”
She turned her head. Keith was struggling to open the cage. Fumbling with keys. Sabine frowned and sent fire racing toward the cage. Vaughn screamed when the fire licked over his arm.
“I only know the flames,” she whispered. Her voice was husky. Deeper than before. Flowing with power. Darkness. In her eyes, he saw rage and pain and fear.
And he remembered another time. The first time she’d burned before him. “I thought you’d died then, too,” he said.
Malcolm rose to his feet. A gaping hole filled his chest. He’d dug the bullet out of his heart. Now Malcolm was coming for him again.
“One of us is dying, brother!” Malcolm swore as he charged at Ryder. “One of us is—”
Sabine put her hand on Malcolm’s chest. He howled in pain and . . . he burned.
Quickly, too quickly. He fell to the ground, tried to roll to put out the fire, but the flames wouldn’t die.
Instead, he died. In mere moments.
Then there was only . . . ash left.
There’d be no returning from that.
Sabine lifted her hand and asked Ryder, “Are you ready to die, too?”
He shook his head. “You can’t kill me.” Malcolm was truly dead now. Rest in peace, brother. Finally. Maybe there would finally be some peace for him on the other side.
Or maybe there would only be more fire.
“I can kill anyone.” She had flames at her fingertips. “I can burn you, from the inside out.”
“Pull it back,” he told her, keeping his voice calm with every ounce of his strength.
For an instant, her expression flickered.
Did she remember? Another time, another place, but he’d spoken those exact words to her before.
The fire died above her hand. She touched her temple. Rubbed it. “Destroy. Burn. It’s what the fire whispers to me.”
He had to get Sabine to ignore that insidious whisper. He had to make her remember. So he told her the same thing he’d told her the first time she’d risen for him. Ryder lifted his hand to her and said, “I thought you were dead.”
Her lips moved. She looked scared, lost. “I was.” Then she shook her head. “Who are you?”
“Ryder.” And he closed the last of the space between them.
She raised her hands again, as if to ward him off, but the fire didn’t burn from her palms. Not now. “Stay away from me!” Sabine shouted.
“Never,” he whispered.
Sabine slammed her palms against her head. “Hurts . . . burn . . .” Her eyes locked on his. “What is happening to me?”
She’d asked him that before. When she’d burned in his cell and returned to him. Now he just told her, “You’re coming back to me.”
Flames were on the ceiling. All around them.
He didn’t risk a glance at the humans. But from the corner of his eye, he saw Dante running from t
he room. With . . . Cassie cradled in his arms?
But Vaughn and Keith would still be trapped. Sabine’s fire was raging out of control. If he didn’t stop it, how many would die? How many humans were in the building? Would the fire spread to the rest of the block?
To the whole city?
Her power was limitless, he saw that now. Everyone else needed to fear her.
But he . . . he just loved her. Ryder reached for her hands. “Sabine.”
She blinked at him. “I’ve heard your voice . . . calling to me . . . through the fire.”
Yes.
He swallowed. Kept his hands light and gentle on her feverish skin. “Stop the fire,” he told her softly.
“I-I don’t know how!” Tears leaked down her cheeks.
His heart ached. They’d been through all of this before. But this time, he knew what to do.
She knew fury and fear and pain.
He would remind her of something else. Love.
“Help me,” she whispered to him. “Please.”
“I will,” he promised. Then Ryder put his lips to hers. He kissed her, pushing all of the love and need he felt into that kiss.
But she jerked her head away from him. Her eyes were even more afraid. “Why don’t you burn?”
“Because you’d never hurt me.” She was shaking. Hurting so much. He had to stop her pain. “And I won’t let you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you, Sabine.” He kissed her again. Soft, gentle, even as the fire crackled and raged. She stood tense and scared at first, but then her lips parted just a little. Her breath eased out. He took that breath, as he’d take anything that she’d offer to him.
His lips were careful on hers. He held back his frantic need. Held tight to his control. He just wanted her to return, his Sabine, with her memory. Her fire. Her wit. Her beautiful spirit.
Her hands pushed lightly at his chest. He lifted his head.
She stared at him, and the flames seemed to have dimmed in her eyes. “Y-you . . . you have fangs.”
His heart squeezed at the familiar words. That was what she’d said to him before, too, when they’d been trapped in his cell, and that time, he’d told her, “And you’re burning the room around us.” His voice was husky.
From the corner of his eye, Ryder saw a dark form dart through the doorway. Another man. He ran toward the cage. It looked like the man was trying to help Keith. Trying to save Vaughn.