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  Wyatt smiled. Sometimes, it was easy to see madness. Sometimes, it was harder to see evil.

  Wyatt kept the gun up as he said, “When no one walks away but me . . . there will be no other story to believe.”

  “Cain . . . Cain will walk away.” The fire wouldn’t stop him. Not when he could control the flames so easily. “You know he’ll live, you know—”

  Wyatt laughed. “Cain’s the worst monster there is. You think I’m bad? You don’t even know what he’s done.”

  Then he shot her. Not in the heart or head, as she’d expected. But in the stomach. She fell down, gasping at the pain. The laptop fell from her fingers.

  “You will, though,” he promised her. “You will.”

  He stepped back into the small opening made by the bookshelf. His perfect exit strategy. He’d planned so well—and now the jerk was going to get away.

  “No!” She couldn’t stand. Her whole body felt heavy, weighted. She tried to crawl to him. “You can’t—”

  The bookshelf closed, sealing him inside. No, sealing her inside the room and letting him get wherever the hell he wanted to go.

  “Help!” She yelled, crawling a bit more. She’d find something. Something she could use to help her and she’d get out. She’d—

  Fire raced into the room.

  Fire . . . and Cain.

  “Help me,” she begged him, staring up—and looking right into his eyes. Into the fire.

  He’s worse than me.

  Cain lifted her into his arms. Held her against his chest. Fire blocked the door. Blazed down the hall.

  “Can you . . .” The smoke was choking her. Dammit, if they didn’t move, that would be what killed her. Not the fire.

  Never the fire.

  She’d lied to Wyatt. To Cain. To just about everyone. She had plenty of secrets that no one knew, not even those who were supposed to be her closest friends.

  “Can you . . . get through . . . the fire?” she asked him. It was getting hard to speak. Hard to focus. Wyatt hadn’t shot her with a regular bullet. More like some kind of drug, a tranq that was making her numb.

  Cain nodded. “I can.” His face was grim. “You can’t.”

  The drug was making her hallucinate. Why else would she think that the guy’s voice had sounded all gruff and sad? “I . . . can. Trust . . . m-me.”

  But he wasn’t moving. Just standing there.

  What? Waiting for death?

  “I . . . lied.” She could barely whisper the words.

  Fire caught the bottom of his jogging pants. Burned higher. He tried to yank her away from the flames.

  Eve reached out and touched them. The flames slid right over her skin. She could feel the heat, but there was no burn.

  For her, there never had been.

  “I’m not . . . exactly . . . human.”

  His eyes widened, but he didn’t speak. Not then. Just held her tight—and raced through the fire.

  As the drug pushed through her body, everything slowly faded away. The last thing she saw was the fire.

  Burning so bright.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Genesis burned faster than he’d thought it would. Screams filled the night, mixing with the crackle of the flames as the fire raged.

  And Cain just stood back and watched the hellhole burn.

  Humans were fleeing. Shouting. Some tried to put out the fire. Fools. That fire wasn’t dying.

  The paranormals escaping the blaze didn’t even glance back. They fled into the woods. Ran fast. A few stopped to beat the hell out of some guards hanging around.

  Interesting.

  He’d freed the paranormals trapped on the lower level. He could have let them burn, maybe he should have, but . . .

  Cain’s gaze lowered to Eve’s face. Her eyes were closed. Ash stained her cheek. The drug had knocked her out, and he’d carried her right through the blaze.

  A blaze that hadn’t even blistered her skin.

  He’d saved those paranormals because he’d given his word to her. He’d stared into her blue eyes and hadn’t been able to refuse her. Not then.

  Want her.

  She wasn’t like the others. She was something special.

  His gaze swept over her delicate form. She was something damn dangerous. To him, she was lethal.

  “Let her go.”

  The voice came from the shadows. It was a rough voice, male, desperate.

  Hungry.

  The vampire.

  Cain glanced up at him. His hold on Eve tightened. “I knew letting you live was a mistake.”

  Blood dripped down the vampire’s chin. He’d fed, probably on the screaming guards. The man stalked toward Cain with fangs bared and fists clenched.

  He really should turn the dumbass to dust.

  “She . . . saved me,” the vampire gritted out. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

  Did it look like he was hurting her? And since when did a vampire play hero for anyone or anything? From what Cain had witnessed, those bloodsuckers were good for only one thing—killing.

  Cain stared at the vampire and knew that the fire of his power would burn in his eyes. “You don’t want to tangle with me.” He’d watched the destruction. Made sure that Wyatt hadn’t crawled out of the chaos.

  It was time to leave.

  And he was taking Eve with him.

  Why can’t I have what I want? This one time . . .

  “She’s human,” the vampire said with a hard shake of his head. “I don’t know what the hell you are, and—”

  “She’s not.” Her lie. She was far more than human, and he just had to figure out what she was.

  “Doesn’t matter,” the vamp growled back at him as the guy took a step forward. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

  “I wasn’t the one trying to eat her.”

  “No, you’re just the one who wants to fuck her.”

  Cain’s eyes narrowed. It was true, but the words still pissed him off. It wouldn’t take very long to kill the parasite. Just a few seconds.

  But time was already running out for them. The smoke was rising high into the sky. Others would see the blaze. More humans would come. Cain wanted to be long gone before their arrival.

  He knew some of the Genesis personnel kept their vehicles in the garage to the east. He’d take one of those cars.

  The vampire was blocking his path. He’d give the guy fair warning, then he’d attack. “If you don’t move, you’re dead.”

  The vamp’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t—”

  The fire was raging inside Cain. That blaze might not hurt Eve, but he could incinerate this jerk. And the vampire had been ready to bite Eve before.

  Didn’t that mean he deserved to get singed? Even if he was trying to do some lame-ass white knight bit? You don’t fool me.

  The vamp wasn’t leaving. No, the guy was actually coming closer.

  Cain let the fire rip from his hand. It flew right at the vamp, tumbling end over end in a deadly ball. The vamp yelled and threw his body to the side. Cain let the fire circle the ground around the vampire, trapping him within the blaze.

  Cain walked right by him. The flames would keep the vamp contained, for now. But he left him with a warning. “If you ever come at her again, you’ll feel the full force of my fire.” Cain would make sure of it. “And you won’t have time to scream then. You’ll just die.”

  While the vamp froze within his temporary prison of fire, Cain made his way to that garage. He wasn’t the only paranormal with the plan to steal a getaway vehicle. That was obvious. Only two trucks and a motorcycle were left, and some guy with red hair was making his way toward the nearest truck.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Cain shifted Eve so that she lay over his left shoulder. Probably not the most comfortable position for her, but he had to be ready to attack. His left arm curled around her legs as he lifted his right hand. He let the man see the flames he carried. “Unless you’re in the mood to burn.”

  The guy shook his head
and frantically backed up. Ah, smarter than the vamp. Then he jumped on the motorcycle and roared out of there.

  Some folks were so afraid of the fire.

  Cain eased Eve inside the truck. He pulled the seat belt over her, and she seemed to stir, just a bit. But her eyes didn’t open.

  He figured she’d been dosed with the SP-tranq. He’d seen that tranq kill a weak paranormal once. His fingers slid to her throat. Felt the faint pulse. “You aren’t dying on me.” An order.

  But . . . it was one she couldn’t hear.

  Her breath whispered out.

  Hell.

  More paranormals were rushing their way. Shouts and screams filled the air.

  Cain jumped in the truck. Some helpful human had left the keys under the dash, so no hot-wiring necessary. The engine revved to life, and he jerked the vehicle into reverse, making several of the paranormals leap out of the way.

  If they hadn’t moved, he would have happily gone through them.

  “C-Cain?” The softest rasp of Eve’s voice.

  His hands tightened on the wheel. Her lashes were fluttering.

  The SP-tranq never kept the most powerful paranormals out for long. It had only kept him unconscious for a few minutes.

  She’d been out about fifteen minutes. Not long . . .

  “You’re safe,” he told her. Wasn’t that all she needed to know right now? He yanked the wheel to the right. He knew this area. Another mistake for the Genesis assholes. They were playing in his backyard. He’d just needed to get away from the facility and those chains, and, now that he was out, he’d be able to vanish almost instantly.

  He drove them down a twisted, dirt road. Turned to the left. The right.

  The blaze behind them vanished, but the smoke still thickened the air.

  “What’s . . . burning?” Eve’s voice. Soft. So lost.

  Everything. He felt a grim smile curl his lips. Genesis was dead—and it was about fucking time.

  The cabin was easy to find only if you knew where to go. The Blue Ridge Mountains held plenty of secrets, and this safe house was one that Cain hadn’t shared with anyone else. Trust wasn’t exactly easy for him.

  And when he was betrayed, as he’d been betrayed by that worthless shifter Jimmy Vance, Cain always made sure to seek his vengeance. Jimmy wouldn’t get away with selling him out.

  The deception would prove to be a fatal mistake for the shifter. A fatal and oh so painful mistake.

  “W-where are we?”

  Cain killed the engine at the sound of Eve’s voice. Her eyes were open, but the blue of her gaze looked cloudy, and the faint line between her brows showed her confusion.

  At least she was back with him. For a little bit, he’d almost . . . worried.

  As a rule, he didn’t give a shit about anyone.

  “A safe house,” he told her. The place would do, for now. They needed to hide out until the fire died. Those flames would bring more humans—humans who wanted to investigate. They’d stay hidden until the flames and the smoke vanished.

  Her breath rushed out. “You . . . saved me.” Shock coated the words.

  He shoved open his door. Stalked around the truck and paused near the passenger side of the vehicle. She frowned at him and fumbled, trying to open the door. Eve couldn’t seem to get the lock to disengage.

  He yanked open the door, shattering the lock, and pulled her into his arms. Why the hell did she seem to fit against him so well?

  His whole body tensed as he lifted her against his chest.

  “I can . . . walk.” She sounded disgruntled.

  Would a little thank-you have killed the woman? He had hauled her ass out of a nightmare and gotten her to safety. But if the woman wanted to walk . . .

  Jaw locking, Cain eased her onto her feet and backed up.

  Her dark hair fell around her face, but he saw her shoulders straighten. Then she took a step forward.

  He caught her before she slammed, face-first, into the dirt. The little growl of frustration that she gave shouldn’t have sounded sexy.

  But every damn thing about her was sexy to him.

  She can stand the heat.

  He lifted her right back against his chest. Her head eased onto his shoulder, and her hair brushed lightly against him. She should have smelled like smoke and ash. They’d gone through hell.

  But she still smelled like candy to him. Sweet. Light. Delicious.

  I want a bite.

  He’d be taking that bite before he let her go. Cain carried her inside the cabin. Set the security system. Turned on the lights. The cabin wasn’t big. Not fancy, but the place had a bed. Four walls. Food.

  What more did they really need right then? Just a place to lay low.

  He headed toward the bed.

  Eve’s body stiffened in his arms. “Um . . . wait . . . what—”

  Carefully, he put her down on top of the covers. She looked right in his bed. She’d look even better naked. The woman did need to get out of those burned clothes. “Genesis is gone.” Did she remember that part? The flames? The screams?

  Her eyes widened. She glanced down at her clothes. Had to see the ash. The fire had burned part of her clothing, but the flames hadn’t marred her flesh. “You . . . took me out.” Her voice was stronger. Still husky. Still like a hot stroke right over his groin. “Got me out of the flames after . . .” She sat up slowly, sliding over the covers with a hiss of sound. “After that bastard shot me.”

  Anger sharpened her words. But who wouldn’t be pissed after getting shot?

  He reached for her.

  She flinched away from him.

  Cain’s jaw clenched. Right. Just because he’d saved her, just because she could handle the flames, didn’t mean her opinion of him would be any different from anybody else’s. She’d still look at him and see the freak who could burn.

  The man who touched hell.

  “I’m just checking your wound,” he snapped. Like she hadn’t been kissing him before. Rubbing her body against his. Acting like she wanted him.

  But they’d had an audience then, and maybe every moan, every stroke of her body against his had been nothing more than an act.

  The woman is one fine actress. He’d have to remember that. She’d just been playing a role.

  When he’d been fucking desperate to take her. To finally be with someone who could handle his power.

  Her hand lifted slowly and slid over her stomach. The bottom of the shirt had been burned away. The tranq had caught her in the stomach, he knew that, but her hand slid over smooth, unblemished skin.

  Not that the tranq ever left much of a mark, anyway. Wyatt had designed it to be a subtle but painful attack. Easier to take out prey and then deny any action later.

  “What was it?” she asked as her fingers pressed against her stomach. Smooth flesh. Pale.

  Lickable.

  “A tranq.” His voice sounded like ragged gravel, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “A special mix Wyatt made. It can knock out even the strongest paranormals.” And kill the weakest.

  Good thing she hadn’t been weak.

  What was she?

  “Can you create the fire?” he asked because maybe—his heart raced faster—maybe she was just like him. He’d always been an outcast in the paranormal world. A freak, even among the monsters. But if she was like him, if he wasn’t alone . . .

  She shook her head. “N-no.” Her gaze darted around the room. “What happened to Wyatt?”

  “He burned.”

  Another flinch from her.

  Why wasn’t she looking at him? Cain caught her chin in his hand and made her focus on him. “Forget him. He deserved a fast trip to hell.” Did she have any idea how many paranormals that bastard had tortured? Cain had heard their screams. He knew.

  “What about the others?” Eve asked. “Did they get out? Did they—”

  “A lot of them did.” Not everyone, not all the paranormals and not all the humans. Those explosions had been timed too perfe
ctly.

  Wyatt hadn’t minded killing his lab rats or his own research teams.

  And the guy thought Cain was the monster? Wyatt was as sadistic and twisted as any killer could possibly be.

  Her breath rushed out. “I have to—I have to call this story in—I need to tell—”

  He remembered what Wyatt had said about her. Eve wasn’t another scientist out to poke and prod her prey. She was a reporter. A woman after a story. I won’t be her story. “You’re not telling anyone anything.”

  She pulled away from him.

  “Not yet,” he said, trying to soften his words. “Not until it’s safer.” Not until he’d had his fill of her.

  She’s afraid of me. So what? Everyone is. He could work past her fear. He had to.

  He’d been held captive for too damn long.

  And he wanted her too much.

  “You can stand the fire,” he whispered.

  Her gaze came back to his. Still laced with fear, but . . . was that a flash of awareness in her eyes? “Yes.”

  His stare dropped to her lips. He wanted to taste her again. Cain leaned forward, bringing his mouth closer to hers. Eve didn’t pull back.

  Did she—hell, did she lean toward him? He sure thought that she did.

  He pressed his lips against hers. He wanted to ravage her mouth. To take and taste and hear her moan. But he touched her lightly with his lips, carefully . . . at first.

  Don’t scare her any more. Not yet.

  His control was razor thin. He needed to woo her while he could.

  Her lips parted beneath his. Still not pulling away. Then her tongue came out and licked against his.

  Fuck.

  That control got even thinner. “I want you.” Guttural. His cock was so full and aching—from one damn kiss—that he hurt.

  He couldn’t remember his last lover. He couldn’t picture her in his mind. The lovers he’d taken before hadn’t mattered to him. He hadn’t let them matter. They couldn’t get close to him. Couldn’t find out what he really was.

  Bodies in the dark. Pleasure. Sex.

  That was all his past had been.