Playing With Fire (25 page)

And, sure, that woman's blood was like honey on his tongue, but he wasn't foaming at the mouth to have more.

I have control.

He wasn't planning on losing it anytime soon.

“Since I'm not primal, I'm not a threat.” Vaughn tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable. Reason might work with this lady. “You can let me go.”

She shook her head.

He heard the squeak of a door opening behind her. Footsteps came toward him, and he smelled smoke.

Vaughn glanced to the left and saw the same SOB who'd shoved a stake into him. He hadn't seen the man's face until he fell into the dirt—and nearly died.

“Cassie cured you,” the man said.

What is his name? Jon—and he is a lieutenant colonel.

“He's still a vampire,” the blonde said quickly. Her wound was completely wrapped now. “Just not primal.”

The SOB came closer. “How'd she do it?” he demanded of Vaughn.

“Hell if I know.” That was true. All he remembered was the hunger and . . .

Fuck, did I bite a kid?

He thought that he might have, and shame burned through him. Vaughn
never
wanted to be like that again.

Death would be better than being primal.

Jon's blue eyes locked on his. “We're going to cut you up and find out. I'll let Shaw slice you open, and then she can piece you back together.”

Isn't he a cold-blooded prick?

Vaughn glared at him.

“Or maybe I'll let her take an . . . easier approach,” Jon said with a chilling smile. “You help me, and I don't torture you as much.”

Was Vaughn supposed to believe anything the guy who'd staked him said?

Jon stepped ever closer. His face had been burned so badly. But he acted like he didn't feel the pain as he demanded, “Where would Cassie go? She ran from her lab.
Where did she run to
?”

“No clue,” Vaughn muttered. He wasn't telling this guy anything.

Jon shook his head and sighed. “That's the wrong answer.” He glanced at the woman. “Shaw, cut open his chest.”

Shaw didn't move.

Neither did Vaughn.

“Shaw!” Jon snapped.

“He's a cured primal,” she whispered with a nervous glance at Vaughn. “Don't you see what Cassie has done? We need him alive. We have to replicate—”

“Do I look like I give a shit about curing the primals?” Jon snarled. “I can kill them all with a thought.”

Vaughn's gaze swept over the man's face. “Those look like some pretty bad burns.” On his face and his arms.

Jon stiffened.

Vaughn smiled. “Someone pissed off a phoenix, huh?” He knew about the phoenixes. Down in New Orleans, his best friend had a phoenix for a sister.

Sabine.
He hadn't seen her in so long, not since she'd come to town with her vampire lover and—

“Ahh!” Vaughn cried out.

Jon had just shoved his burning hand onto Vaughn's chest.

“I'm the phoenix,” Jon shouted at him, spittle flying from his mouth. “And if you say one more thing to piss me off, you'll just be the latest vampire that I burned to ash.”

Vaughn's flesh began to melt away. He clenched his teeth and refused to cry out again.

“Please!” Shaw said, voice breaking. “He's the cure.”

Jon let his hand linger. Let the fire burn deeper, scorching muscles.

“Let him go,”
Shaw cried.

With a grim smile, Jon lifted his hand. “He doesn't have to stay alive. Cassie's the cure. Cassie can replicate it. Cassie and that fucking fantastic mind of hers. I just need
Cassie.
” There was something in his voice—a desperation that pushed the edge of sanity.

Right, like that dude was sane. The pyro looked like he'd lost touch with sanity long ago.

Just like I had.

“Where did she go?” Jon demanded.

“I know where you can go,” Vaughn yelled right back.

Jon's jaw clenched. “Let's see just how much pain he can handle.”

Shaw was so pale. Pale and shaking, but she lifted her scalpel and came toward Vaughn.

“Lady, don't! That's the last damn thing you want to be doin',” he bit out, trying to reach her.

But she raised the scalpel.

Jon's hand flew out and wrapped around her wrist. She gasped, and Vaughn knew she'd just gotten burned.

“Did I just hear . . .” Jon asked, smiling, “the South in your voice?” That smile stretched as his gaze settled on Vaughn's face. “If I'm not wrong, that's . . . New Orleans.”

Fuck.

“I've always been good with voices, and that was just a little bit of Creole there.” He dropped the woman's hand. “I know who you are, vampire.”

Good for you.

“Vaughn Adams. Your father Keith contacted me a while back about a female phoenix he wanted to cure.” Jon shook his head. “Everyone is always so stuck on cures.”

Sabine.
Vaughn tried to keep his expression blank but his whole body went on high alert.

“You father knew the little phoenix well, just like you did.”

Vaughn didn't like the way the guy's eyes had lit up.

“I need her,” Jon gritted.

“And I need the hell off this table!” Vaughn cried.

“Cassie went to her, didn't she? New Orleans is close. She has friends there, probably a safe house. She ran there.”

Vaughn hoped that she hadn't. But he suspected—
yes.

Jon's gaze bored into his. “You are going to help me draw her out.”

“No, no, I'm—”

“Or I'll kill your father. I'll kill your mother. Your aunts, uncles. Every one.”

Shaw dropped the scalpel and scurried back.

“But . . .” Jon lifted a brow. “You help me find Cassie and that female phoenix, and I'll let you go.”

Did Vaughn look like a dumbass? The guy was
not
going to let him get away.

“Your choice,” Jon said. “You help me, or you burn.”

It was going to hurt, so Vaughn braced himself. “Bring on the fire, bastard.”

And he did.

 

Cassie paced the length of the den, her hands nervously fisted at her sides. They still had an hour until midnight. Would the others be at the rendezvous point?

If they weren't, she had no idea how to find them.

“Are you sure that you can trust Keith Adams?” Dante asked her.

She jumped at the rumble of his voice. She'd thought that he was still in the kitchen. Cassie turned and saw that he was leaning up against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on her.

“I think so, yes.” She gave a nod, just to try and emphasize that point. She sure hoped she could trust the man. At this stage, it wasn't like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. She'd told Dante a bit about Vaughn earlier and thought to tell him more. “Once he found out what Genesis was really doing, Keith wanted to help the paranormals. He . . .”

Okay, she should probably be careful with this reveal.

“He's the one who sent Sabine to us.” She paused and searched Dante's gaze. “Do you remember her?”

“I remember everything.”

Her breath rushed out. “That's a relief. It seems like your memories are coming back faster. Maybe you're getting even—”

He shook his head. “My memories are back because of you.”

She wasn't sure how to respond.

“You used the power of the siren and you ordered me to remember.” A little shrug. “So I did.”

“I thought we'd agreed I couldn't use that power.” Her voice had dropped. A big knot had also formed in her stomach.

“No, we said when you were stressed or scared, that power comes out.”

Yes, he was definitely remembering a whole lot.

“I'm guessing you were feeling pretty stressed”—his gaze drifted from hers and slid to the staircase—“when we were up there.”

When she'd confessed that she loved him. Cassie knew her cheeks had to be flaming.

She'd confessed, he'd gotten his memory back, and, no, there had been no claims of undying love from him.

Obviously, they were back to business as usual.

She spun on her heel so he wouldn't see her face. “S-Sabine is the only female phoenix I've ever encountered. While at Genesis, she fell in love with a vampire—”

“Ryder.”

Right.
Cassie tried not to shiver at his name. He was very, very powerful, and he scared the hell out of her.

“I've dealt with Ryder before.” No fear in Dante's words.

Figures.

She could fear enough for both of them. She ran a hand through her hair. “Keith has a place in the Quarter. If Charles and Jamie made it to the city, they'll be there tonight. Charles . . . and I have been communicating privately with Keith while we worked on a cure for Vaughn.”

How was she supposed to tell Keith that his only son was dead?

“What about Cain?”

“He should be in New Orleans, too. He'll be with Eve and . . .”
What had happened to Trace?
“I hope Trace hasn't killed anyone,” Cassie whispered. “Maybe Eve was able to keep Trace in check.”

“I'm sure Cain has him under control.” Dante didn't sound the least bit worried. “If not, then he probably killed the werewolf.”

Cassie's control snapped and she spun toward him. “Why is death so easy for you?”

A shrug. “Because I've died hundreds of times.”

She flinched. “Most of us don't get the luxury of coming back. Death is permanent for us. We live, we love, and many of us don't
want
to die. Death rips us away too soon from the people that we love!”

He pushed away from the mantel and walked toward her. “You came back. When you were hurt before, in this very city—”

“Because of something my father did to me! Because I'm a walking experiment! But how long does it last? I'm
not
like you. One of these days, I'll die, and I won't come back.” Her breath heaved out. “So don't talk about killing like it's nothing. All the lives—they matter to someone. Trace has friends. Eve is his friend. I'm his friend.” Cassie's shoulders slumped. “We all matter.”

Dante was staring down at her with confusion on his face.

Did he truly not understand?

“Someone had to matter to you,” she whispered. “At some point, at some time, it couldn't have always been so easy for you to kill.”

“I kill so that others can survive.” Hard words.

Maybe no one had mattered.
Her hand lifted. She touched his chest.

He immediately stilled beneath her hand.

“I can feel your heart beating,” Cassie whispered. Beating at a fast and strong rate. “You have a heart, but do you love?”

His eyes were carefully guarded.

I guess that's my answer.

She tried to pull her hand back, but his hand rose and curled around hers, holding it in place. “I loved my brother, and I still killed him.”

The way of the phoenix.

“We do what we must in order to survive.”

But if they all became monsters, what was that survival worth?

“I will do
anything
”—his hold tightened on her—“to ensure your survival.”

Pushed too far, she had to ask, “Would you cry for me, Dante?”

His dark eyes held hers.

“If I couldn't heal myself, if I were dying right in front of you, would you cry for me?”

A phoenix's tears had to be shed willingly. They couldn't be harvested from the tear ducts. Their power came from the pain of the phoenix.

Dante wasn't answering.

That
was
an answer.

She forced herself to smile. “Not that you have to. I'm an indestructible girl, right? No need to ever cry over me.”

He let her go. “I would kill in an instant to keep you safe.”

“Again with the killing.” She hoped her smile didn't look as sad as she felt. “Sometimes, it's not about killing. It's about sacrificing. Putting someone
else's
life first.” Cassie tried to straighten her shoulders. “Look, how about we both just stay alive tonight, okay?” She glanced at the old clock on the mantel. “We need to leave and head over for the rendezvous.”

“You know I have to kill.”

His words fell heavily into the room.

“The phoenix in those woods—the man you called Jon Abrams—he won't stop until
I
stop him.” The floor creaked as Dante walked toward her. Then his hand was on her shoulder.

Cassie forced herself to glance back at him.

“You can say the world is about sacrifice, but I won't let him keep threatening you. And I won't let the bastard hunt me. Running isn't my way.”

No, not his.

“So I'll go with you to meet your friends. And when you're safe”—Dante gave a grim nod—“I will end Jon.”

 

The house sat, with its lights shining, at the end of Hollow Way. They hadn't come to the home of Keith Adams in their loud, grinding truck.

A backup ride had waited for them at Cassie's safe house. “Do you think they're inside?” Cassie whispered.

She wouldn't look at Dante—not for long, anyway. Her gaze kept darting from him. He'd upset her back at the safe house.

He knew that he had.

Would you cry for me, Dante?

It would have been easy to lie and say yes, but he didn't want to lie to her. She deserved his honesty.

He hadn't cried for anyone in hundreds of years. He'd cried after his brother was gone, but . . .

That hadn't done much good.

“Let's go around to the back,” Cassie said, her voice low.

They slid through the shadows, easing up the back porch. Cassie crept toward the door and rapped lightly against its surface.