Burn For Me Page 3

  “The longer you hold her, the more you ensure she dies,” Wyatt promised. “Because you’re the one who’s making her inhale the poison.”

  Cain spun her around. She kept clawing at the chain. Only . . . she wasn’t really clawing. She was doing her damnedest to pick the lock without Wyatt realizing what she was up to.

  Unfortunately, she was starting to lose control of her fingers. They were fumbling, the coordination slipping from her as the poison filled her lungs. She was trying not to breathe, but . . .

  Her knees began to buckle.

  Cain caught her. Lifted her into his arms.

  “Do you want her to die?” Wyatt asked.

  Cain stared down at her. Such a hard face. She’d wanted to help him. Needed to.

  There were more than enough sins on her soul. One good deed. One person saved. It wouldn’t have tipped the scales, but it would have counted for something.

  Cain kissed her.

  It was the last thing Eve expected, but his lips, warm, firm, came down on hers, and—he blew lightly into her mouth. Just a small breath of air, but it seemed to push back the growing cobwebs in her mind.

  Her fingers started to work faster on that lock.

  He kept kissing her. Lightly moving his mouth against hers. Sharing his breath with her.

  She felt the give in the lock. One wrist would be free. One . . .

  The hissing grew louder.

  More gas.

  Cain lifted his head. “I knew that I’d like the way you taste.”

  She was only upright because of his grip on her body.

  His eyes narrowed. “I’ll want more.”

  His fingers caught hers. It looked like he was holding her. But . . . he was taking the lock pick from her.

  Then he lifted her up against his chest. One arm looped under her knees. One slipped under her head.

  “Don’t die on me.” His order. So soft she might have imagined it. He got as close as he could to the door. The chain stretched behind him, stopping him from taking any more steps. “Get her out!”

  The door didn’t open.

  “Get. Her. Out!”

  Her lungs were burning, her whole body aching.

  “Now I think we understand each other better . . .” Wyatt said, and even with her thoughts getting hazy, there was no missing the guy’s smug satisfaction.

  The door slid open. Hands reached for Eve. Yanked her out. She glanced back and managed to lock her eyes on Cain.

  She saw the rage on his face. The wild fury.

  Then the door closed.

  Eve tried to suck in air as quickly and deeply as she could. Her mind seemed foggy, her movements too slow, but she had to say . . . “T-turn off . . . gas . . .” They’d left it running. There was no need now, no . . .

  Wyatt crouched before her. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.” The faint smirk on his lips belied the false sorrow. “Once the system activates, there’s no way to stop the gas.”

  No way—she grabbed him and smashed his perfect white shirt in her fists. “Help . . . him . . .” She choked a bit as she fought to drag in clear oxygen.

  Two guards pulled her off him.

  Wyatt straightened his shirt. “Don’t worry. We already know the gas only kills Thirteen for a little while.”

  She jerked against the guards. Her mind was clearing, her body growing strong again, but the hands holding her just tightened. They led her back to the observation area. Back to that damn two-way mirror.

  More gas pumped in. More. Cain stood in the middle of the room, shoulders back, and his eyes—his eyes were focused only on her.

  I’m sorry. This time, she was the one to silently offer the words. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged.

  A muscle jerked in his jaw.

  “He’s withstanding the gas for a longer period of time. He should have been on his knees by this point.” Wyatt sounded so damn clinical.

  “You’re a . . . sick asshole . . .” she managed. Her body wasn’t back to normal, not yet, and talking required some serious effort.

  He smiled. “And you’re not who you claim to be, Dr. Bradley.”

  Screw him. Like she had to explain herself to him.

  “But I knew you weren’t the real deal from the first moment you stepped into the facility.”

  How had he known that? Her cover should have been perfect. She’d sweat blood making that cover.

  Eve pulled her gaze off Cain and glared at the doctor. “Then why . . . let me stay? Why show . . . me—”

  “Subject Thirteen?”

  “His name’s . . . Cain!” Not just a number, dammit.

  “Because I knew once you came to Genesis, you wouldn’t be leaving.” He inclined his head toward the guards. “And I’d hoped to be able to use you.”

  Use her?

  “It looks like you’ll be more beneficial than I ever hoped.”

  The guards began to pull her away from the observation mirror.

  She dug in her heels, fighting. Cain—he was dropping to his knees. His head sagging.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.” The psychotic doc appeared puzzled. “Especially so soon after a change.”

  Cain’s body hit the floor.

  No.

  She didn’t realize she’d screamed until Wyatt heaved out a sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic. I told you . . . the gas won’t kill him for long.”

  But it had killed him.

  The guards dragged her away and her scream seemed to bounce off the walls of her new hell.

  The fire consumed his flesh, burning him from the inside out. Cain sucked in a breath and tasted the ash on his tongue. The changes were coming faster now, harder, hotter, and with each change . . .

  He felt the darkness inside him growing.

  Kill. Destroy.

  The whispers were there—coming from the beast he’d tried hard to keep locked away for so many years.

  Death brought the darkness closer. Made him lose more of the man he’d once been.

  Turned him into the beast that destiny had designed him to become.

  He put his hands on the floor. Pushed up. Saw the fire slide across the hard stone of his room, then die away.

  Rising, he sucked in more breaths. He didn’t want the taste of ash on his tongue, he wanted her. Eve.

  The beast snarled, and the flames flared higher. He stared through the window. They were watching. Always watching.

  They didn’t realize what they’d unleashed. Their fucking games. Each death only made him stronger. More dangerous.

  As the man faded and the beast quickened within him . . . more fucking dangerous.

  The echo of the woman’s screams pierced his ears. She’d tried to help him.

  Why?

  “The woman is secure.” That damn voice. Driving him insane. “Don’t worry,” the voice continued, “we’ll take good care of her.”

  The flames began to die away. He had to swallow back the fire, again and again, before he could manage speech. “I don’t give a shit what you do to her.”

  Soft laughter. “Yes, you do.”

  He didn’t move. He knew his eyes would still be burning with fire, and he wanted one of those assholes to come inside. To just come close enough to touch . . .

  “You still remember her.” The voice—Wyatt—sounded pleased. “You remember who you are . . . after our fifth experiment, you couldn’t remember anything, not for days.”

  Because the beast had taken over. Too much darkness. Wyatt and his army of lab coats didn’t get it. They weren’t just playing with fire when it came to him. They were playing with hell.

  When the beast broke free—can’t hold him back much longer—there would be no stopping him. He’d destroy everyone and everything around him.

  Even her.

  Sometimes, the risings were harder than others. Sometimes, he lost hold of what little humanity he had because he wanted that darkness and fire. He wanted to kill and destroy.

  This time . . . t
his time, it had been different. He’d held on. . . .

  Why?

  For . . . her?

  Cain shook his head, lost, body aching, beast clawing him from the inside. “Wyatt, this is your last chance . . .” Because he was done holding back. His control wasn’t strong enough to last through another death. He couldn’t do it. There just wasn’t enough power left within him. Can’t hold back the beast. “Let me go or watch everyone here burn.”

  The doctor stepped back from the mirror. Because he was afraid. Hiding behind his experiments, acting like he didn’t get off on causing pain to others.

  Eve. Her name whispered through Cain’s mind.

  Wyatt’s chin lifted. “You burn us, then you burn her.”

  Arrogant dick. “I don’t care about her.” Cain had just met her. Why should he—

  “Then you would have let her die in the gas. You would have snapped her neck.” Satisfaction all but purred in Wyatt’s voice. “But you let her live.”

  Mistake. The doctor always watched him too closely. He should have known . . . Eve was just another experiment.

  “Yeah, well,” Cain turned away from that two-way mirror. “Maybe I just wanted a fuck and she was the first good-looking woman I’d seen since you threw my ass in here.” How long ago? He couldn’t even remember.

  If he’d been imprisoned by normal steel, he would have escaped easily.

  There was nothing normal about his imprisonment. The chains that bound him were made of some experimental metal that even his enhanced strength couldn’t break. But Eve had loosened one lock for him.

  He glanced down. The fire had incinerated the pick set.

  But one lock was open . . .

  He could work with that.

  Cain smiled and knew that the doctor didn’t see his grin. Good . . . better for Wyatt to be surprised when hell came for him.

  Would the prick still be smiling when the flames began to eat his flesh?

  It was twelve hours before Cain’s cell door opened again. A few moments before the door opened, the length of his chains had retracted, the way they usually did right before a guard came inside.

  They pulled back the leash so he wouldn’t attack.

  He expected a guard to come in first. Maybe Wyatt.

  But Eve entered the room.

  She was pale, paler than before, and still wearing the tight jeans and loose top she’d had on during the night. Her gaze swept over him, lingering a moment on the locks near his wrists.

  Wyatt gave her a push, and she stepped fully into the room. “I’ve brought a present,” he announced.

  Eve’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a damn present.”

  Wyatt just laughed. Why didn’t his superiors see that the guy was a nut job? Or did they just not care? As long as he got the job done, maybe it didn’t matter how ass-crazy he was.

  Wyatt was doing one killer job of breaking the supernaturals. Of experimenting on them, slicing them up. Finding out just what made them tick.

  So he could try to splice their genetics and make a whole new breed of monsters. Unstoppable soldiers who truly fed on fear and blood. Cain had been held captive long enough to figure out exactly what was going on in that place. And it wasn’t like Wyatt had tried to keep things secret from him. Hell, at first, he’d even thought that Cain should appreciate the damn genius of his plans.

  Genius?

  Insanity.

  Wyatt’s laughter faded as his gaze swept back to Eve. “What you are, Ms. Bradley, is a reporter, which is something altogether . . . annoying.”

  A reporter? Hell. Cain kept his expression blank as he waited to see what game the doc would play next.

  But Eve straightened her shoulders. “Damn straight I’m a reporter, and that means I can’t just vanish. People know I’m here. They’ll be looking for me.”

  “There might not be anything left for them to find,” Wyatt told her, shrugging, and not appearing the slightest bit concerned. “Wouldn’t that be a crying shame?”

  “Fuck off,” Eve snapped.

  That was when Cain noticed the gun. The guard—Barnes again, that jerk just loved being Wyatt’s lackey—had his weapon trained right on Eve.

  Wyatt laughed. “Actually, my dear, that’s why you’re here.”

  Eve blinked.

  “I think Subject Thirteen—”

  “Cain,” Eve spat the name at him. She was a feisty one. Cain rather liked that. “The guy has a name. It’s Cain. Try using it.”

  Wyatt waved his hand. “I think Subject Thirteen wants to fuck you.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  Cain didn’t move. I do. But he had his control. He had—

  “Anger rouses his fire.” Wyatt was walking around the room. Studying Cain with his head tilted to the side and his fingers drumming against his chin. “So I’m curious to see if passion will do the same.”

  Come closer, bastard. Just a little closer . . .

  One touch, and this could all be over.

  Wyatt pointed at Cain. “I’m figuring you out.”

  Doubtful.

  “I think I even know what you are.”

  Was he supposed to be worried?

  “All that power . . .” Wyatt shook his head and his hand fell to his side. “We’re going to change the world.”

  Screw that. “When I break out of here, I’m killing you.” A promise.

  Eve tried to edge back toward the door. The guard stopped her.

  “You’re not leaving us, Ms. Bradley. You’re the one who begged me to postpone the drowning experiment for the day.” Wyatt straightened his lab coat. Like the thing hadn’t already been straight. The guy and his control—he was always so perfectly controlled. “Because I’m feeling charitable, I’ll defer to your wishes this time.”

  Lying jerk. This was all part of his plan, one of his sick games.

  Wyatt continued, “Since I can’t enjoy that particular experiment, I’ll just have to substitute it for another.”

  “I’m human,” she gritted out. “I’m not part of any experiment that you—”

  “Today, you are the experiment.”

  Cain would enjoy frying him.

  Wyatt sent him an assessing stare. “I told you, I really did come offering a present today.” He paused. “You wanted her. She’s yours . . . for the next hour.”

  “What?” Eve’s shriek. “Uh, yeah, I’m not some kind of—”

  “Stay with him . . . or you can spend the next hour in the cell with the vampire I haven’t fed for six weeks.”

  Cain saw her flinch.

  A starving vampire? Her delicate neck? Hell, no.

  Eve cleared her throat. “I think—I think I’ll just be choosing option A, if you don’t mind. Vamps and me—we don’t exactly get along.”

  She shouldn’t have told that to the doctor. Wyatt would just use that information against her later on. He loved to know what his experiments feared and what they craved.

  The doctor turned and began to brush by Eve.

  She stumbled into him, hard enough that they both nearly fell to the ground. “Don’t,” Eve said, voice high. “Don’t leave me with him. You know what he can do. He’ll burn me!”

  Cain didn’t move.

  The guard and Wyatt pried her hands loose. When she tried to hold on, Barnes shoved the butt of his gun into her side.

  Cain snarled.

  Barnes froze, then turned his head very slowly and looked at Cain.

  You’re dead.

  Eve was on the floor. Not begging anymore. Not moving.

  Wyatt smiled. “Have fun.” Then he left. Barnes followed him and pulled the door shut. Cain heard the click of the lock sliding into place as the cell was secured. Eve remained crouched on the floor, one arm curled protectively over her body.

  Her scent began to fill the air. The woman truly did smell like candy . . . and he’d so enjoyed the treat. He could still feel her mouth on his.

  He could also feel the other eyes on them. Wyatt. Watching. Enjoying a
nother insane experiment.

  “I-I have a boyfriend.” Eve sounded scared. Probably because she had to be fucking terrified. “So, um, whatever you think is going to happen here”—she glanced back at the two-way mirror—“it’s not. My cop boyfriend is going to hunt me down and kick your asses!”

  Ah, now she wasn’t sounding afraid. The bite in her words almost made him want to smile.

  “Be more accommodating . . .” Wyatt’s voice ordered as the intercom crackled on. “Or you’ll be feeding the vampire.”

  She rose to her feet. Her arm still curved over her body. “Whoring me out . . . nice touch, Doctor Wyatt. Classy.”

  Cain didn’t move. Just watched her. Waited. Wyatt had read him well. He did want her, but he had to be careful.

  He didn’t want to hurt her.

  But she was coming closer to him. Bringing her sweet scent and staring at him with—with no fear in her eyes. Her back was to the mirror now, and a faint smile curved her lips.

  This woman didn’t look scared. Didn’t look angry. She looked damned pleased with herself.

  “But I guess . . .” she said, voice carrying, “if there’s no choice . . .”

  Her arms wrapped around him. Slightly cool, her touch nonetheless blazed right through him. “If there’s no choice,” she said again, voice softer for just him, “then I guess we have to do whatever’s necessary to survive.”

  She pressed her lips to his.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Eve knew the role that she had to play, and she was willing to do her part, up to a point. So she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against Cain’s.

  Even as her hand unfurled against his, she pressed the keys to his chains into his palm.

  Yeah, she hadn’t been some pathetic, hopeless weeping machine for nothing. She’d used that time to get close to Wyatt. While he’d been trying to pry her loose, she’d been relieving him of his keys.

  That summer of pickpocketing didn’t feel quite so shameful right then.

  Her lips moved softly on Cain’s. Just pretending. Just keeping up appearances until he could unlock those cuffs.

  Then he’d better get them the hell out of there.

  Only . . . only Cain wasn’t using the keys to break loose. His arms were wrapping around her, pulling her tighter against him. His mouth hardened on hers, became rougher. More demanding.