Playing With Fire (27 page)

Oh, shit.

They were so screwed.

 

He knocked out a guard, and, since he didn't feel like rushing into the building naked, he grabbed the guy's clothes.

A little tight, but they'd do.

He inhaled. She was in there.

Waiting for him. Once he had her safe in his arms, he would burn the whole place down.

He didn't worry about being subtle. He just rushed toward the main entrance. When another guard turned on him with a gun, he melted the gun.

The guard ran.

Dante went inside.

I am Dante. Dante.

The name had come to him because he remembered her whispering it.
Good-bye, Dante.
The faint words had seemed to drift in the wind.

It wasn't good-bye. It would never be, for them.

Inside, more guards came at him. He lifted his hand. His fire made them flee, too.

Too easy. Humans were no challenge for him.

They never had been.

He followed her scent. Saw the metal door. She waited behind it. He was so close to her.

So very close.

His fire sent the door crashing in. He surged inside. Found her instantly. On the table. With her head turned toward him, her eyes wild and afraid.

And a . . . gag in her mouth?

He stepped toward her.

“Stop, Dante.”

The voice seemed to slide inside him, freezing him.

She walked from the shadows. Her blond hair brushed her shoulders. Her face—beautiful, cold—seemed familiar.

“Remember me. Remember everything.”

He went to his knees as the images flooded through his mind. Images. Voices. Death.

“What would be the point of all this if you didn't remember?” she asked. “You have to remember so that you can suffer.”

Her voice . . .

I love him, and we will be together. Nothing will ever take me from Wren.
Her eyes, that icy blue, had found his.
You will die. All of the phoenixes will fight until death, and then only my Wren will remain.

Zura.

Dante saw her in a field stained black by ash—the ash that had come from the dying phoenixes. So many dead.

She was screaming.

Wren was dying.

Dante frowned. “You're . . . dead . . .”

“No, I'm not. It took me a good century to heal from my burns and to look
normal
again, but I'm very much not dead.” She smiled at him. “You won't be able to say the same soon.” Zura pointed to him. “Don't move a single muscle.”

His body locked down.

“Did you know . . . much like a vampire and a phoenix, a siren's power only increases with age? A mere whisper from me”—she walked next to Jon and whispered in his ear—“can compel even the strongest of paranormal beings.”

Jon crossed to the nearby table and picked up the gleaming knife that waited there.

“You should know, Dante, that, before you arrived, I gave Cassie a little injection.” Zura smiled. “I'm a pretty good doctor, too, you know. When you can live forever, you have the chance to pick up so many skills.”

She shouldn't be living. She'd been dead.

But . . . he remembered . . . Wren had been over her. Clinging to her.

Had his brother cried for her?

He must have.

“Once I found the original formula that helped to make your Cassie so indestructible, well, it was easy enough to find a way to undo that little process.”

Jon had taken his knife and was stalking toward Cassie.

Cassie shook her head and desperately tried to speak behind the gag. Her eyes were on Dante.

“She won't be so quick to heal this time,” Zura promised.

Jon was over Cassie. Staring down at her.

His body shuddered, but he lifted the knife. “S-sorry . . .” he gasped.

“Don't be sorry,” Zura ordered. “Kill her.”

Dante couldn't even speak. Couldn't move even a finger to help her.

Cassie was less than ten feet away from him, and he could do nothing.

Jon drove the knife into Cassie's chest.

No!

“Oh, wait. It gets better.” Zura was nearly purring. “You see . . . she won't come back. She won't heal. She'll just rot.” Zura smiled at him. “Told you . . .
better.
”

Jon stared down at Cassie. Then he pulled out the bloody knife. The sound that it made . . .

Cassie's eyes were closed.

“Do you feel like the knife just went in you? Do you feel like you're the one who died, Dante?” Zura demanded.

He couldn't speak.

“Respond!” she screamed, freeing him from her spell.

Oh, he'd fucking respond all right.

He sent a blast of fire rolling right toward her.
You should have been more careful with your damn words, Zura.
A siren had to be very, very careful what she said.

The fire rolled over her. The scream she gave was full of pain.

He grabbed out with his hand. Caught the instrument tray. Picked up one scalpel.

Jabbed it into his right ear.

Then the left ear.

And he couldn't hear her screams anymore.

He couldn't hear anything. Blood poured from his ears, but he didn't care.

Cassie was all that mattered.

He ran to her, even as Jon pushed Zura to the ground and began to pound out the flames on her body.

Dante yanked the gag from Cassie's mouth. Broke the straps that held her down.

“Cassie?” He couldn't hear his own voice, but his throat vibrated.

She didn't stir.

He stared down at her chest. So much blood. Zura had told Jon to kill her, and it looked like the bastard had tried his best to carry out her order.

Would you cry for me, Dante?

“I won't let you go.” He would cry, he would—

Jon tackled him. They hit the table that Cassie was on, and she fell to the floor. They all fell, tumbling across the hard tile.

Dante grabbed Jon. Punched him. Again and again and again.

He was the man who'd hurt Cassie. Who'd stabbed her.

Killed her?

Not gone yet. I won't let her be gone. I can save her.

He just had to get to her.

The bloody knife was inches from his hand. He grabbed it—and drove the blade deep into Jon's heart.

Payback.

Jon stared up at him, eyes wide and lost.

“When you rise,” Dante rasped out, “I will be here. And I will destroy you. You won't come back ever again.”

The life drained from Jon's eyes.

Dante grabbed for Cassie. His eyes were burning, but not from the fire. From tears that were coming—coming up from the phoenix who would not let his mate vanish. He would not—

A gunshot blasted.

He felt the bullet tunnel through his back, then it ripped from his chest.

Cassie hadn't opened her eyes.

He was falling . . . dropping down on top of her because Zura had shot him. Killed him, before he could save Cassie. If he didn't heal her before he rose, his fire would take her.

And there would be nothing left.

His own eyes closed, and he thought, hoped—fucking prayed—that the tear drop would fall before he died.

Then he felt arms yanking on him, pulling him away from Cassie.

No.

His hands clamped around her, and his face brushed against hers.

She loved him. Screwed up, twisted monster that he was, Cassie loved him.

He wasn't going to give up on her. Never.

He kicked out, his foot slamming into something soft.

I would cry for you, Cassie. I would bleed, beg, kill, and damn well die for you.

The secret he'd held so long, the one he'd been afraid to reveal—when he feared nothing else—was that he didn't remember her each time just because they were mates.

It wasn't about biology. About her being a siren and him being a phoenix.

It was about a man and a woman.

About love.

He'd loved her for years, and the memory of love—that was the only thing that could always get through the fire.

 

They were both dead.

Cassie. And the big, tough-looking bastard who'd tried to save her.

Dead.

Vaughn craned his neck, trying to see them. They were on the floor. It looked like the one Shaw had called Dante was holding Cassie, even in death.

Shaw was trying to pull Dante's body off Cassie's.

Not working. The woman wasn't physically strong, no matter what crazy mojo she could do with her voice.

Dante made sure he couldn't hear her. When he couldn't hear her, she couldn't control him.
That bastard had played hard when he'd driven the scalpel into his own ears.

Smoke began to rise.

Shaw was standing above Vaughn, and she looked . . . scared.

Why? Everyone else was dead. What did she have to fear? Vaughn was strapped. Weak from blood loss, and, unless he missed his guess, about to join all of the others in death.

“When I free you, do exactly as I order. You don't attack me.”

He hated her voice, even as it seemed to wrap around him like a dark temptation.

She disengaged the straps. Blisters were on her arms. “Drag Dante away from Cassie. If that fool actually cried for her . . . No—no, he wouldn't. He wouldn't.”

It looked like the guy had died for her.

Vaughn rolled off the table. Hit the floor. His blood splattered everywhere. But he was helpless to refuse her orders.

When she spoke, she controlled.

So I have to stop her from speaking.

He caught Dante's leg. Pulled him.

Cassie's eyes were closed. Her chest didn't rise.

And the smoke wasn't coming from Dante. The smoke was coming from the other guy. Jon. Great.

He dropped Dante.

“Now pick up that stake, and stab it in your heart,” Shaw ordered.

He turned toward the stake, the one the bitch had oh, so conveniently left on the table. The lady had planned well, he'd give her that, but from the sound of things, she'd been planning revenge for one very long time.

His gaze slid to Cassie. Had her chest just moved? It looked like her lips had parted, but maybe he'd imagined that.

Then he heard voices. Shouting.

Coming from outside in the hallway.

“I want my son!”

His father's voice. Breaking with emotion. It had been so long since Vaughn had seen his father.

His last memory of him, the last clear memory was from the night he'd been bitten.

I think I tried to kill him.

“Damn humans,” Shaw muttered. “Time to kill them all. Vampire, let's have some fun.”

He knew he wasn't going to like her idea of fun.

“Come with me.”

He turned away from the stake. The room's doors had been blown away by Dante, and he followed her outside like a damn sheep to the slaughter.

And there was his father. A guard had a gun shoved into his dad's back. A boy—maybe around fourteen—stood beside him, and there was another man, with thin blond hair, a guy who was trying to shield the boy.

“Don't come at him again!” the blond man screamed when he saw Vaughn.

Again?

Shame slid through Vaughn even as his gaze swept over the boy. He was familiar.

I'm sorry.

Vaughn knew he'd hurt the boy. Hurt so many.

His gaze turned to his father. His dad looked as if he'd aged twenty years since the night of Vaughn's attack.

“V-Vaughn?” his father whispered. “Are you really back?” Vaughn nodded.

“Now for the fun,” Shaw murmured. “Vaughn, go rip out their throats, starting with your father.”

Keith's eyes widened. “No, son
. No!”

“Sorry, but he's not taking orders from you now,” Shaw said. “It's my voice that he follows.
Mine.
”

Helpless, Vaughn started to walk toward his father. “Get away, Dad,” he whispered. “Get the guard's gun. Shoot me. Get out of here!”

But his dad seemed frozen. Broken.

“I missed you, Vaughn,” Keith said softly. “Your mother . . . had a heart attack a few months back. I lost her. I didn't want to lose you . . .”

And Vaughn didn't want to kill his father.

The boy—lunged forward and caught the guard unaware. The kid grabbed the gun and aimed it at Vaughn. “No more!” the kid screamed.

“Drop the gun,” Shaw said, her voice cracking with power.

The gun immediately fell from his hands.

The blond man pushed the boy back behind him.

Vaughn was almost in front of his father. Nearly close enough to kill.

“Make them suffer,” Shaw shouted, her voice feverish and wild. “Make them—ahhh!”

Vaughn's head jerked around as her words ended. She was . . . gurgling—

Choking.

On her own blood.

Cassie
had
been breathing. She stood there, covered in blood, and her hand was still around the scalpel that she'd shoved into Shaw's throat.

“I think you've done enough talking,” Cassie whispered. “Now, you can just die.”

E
very part of Cassie's body
hurt,
but she was alive, on her feet, and that crazy bitch who'd tried to kill her was going down.

She yanked the scalpel to the left. “The power's in the voice, right? Try talking now.” An impossible task since she'd just taken Dr. Shaw's voice box.

Then, because it wasn't about someone suffering, but because she just wanted to
end
it, she pulled the scalpel back and prepared to send Zura to whatever world waited for her next.
Hope it's a fiery one.

But . . . there was already fire. Burning so bright and hot behind Zura. A man—surrounded by flames.

He reached for Zura even as Cassie scrambled back.

Zura tried to scream, but she couldn't.

She was burning.

The smell was horrible and Cassie turned away—only to see Charles blocking Jamie's view of that terrible scene. “Charles, get Jamie out of here!” He already had enough nightmares.

Charles grabbed him and they ran. The guards were all running, too, fleeing from the beast that was attacking.

Or maybe . . . with Shaw gone the guards were finally free.

“Dad?” Vaughn's rough voice.

He was hugging his dad.

It wasn't the time for hugging. “Vaughn, get him out of here!”

That wasn't Dante in the middle of the fire. She still had a chance of reaching him. Controlling him.

He hadn't risen.

When her eyes had opened, he'd been near her. Dead.

The fire was coming from Jon. He was the one who'd risen first. The one who'd just burned Dr. Shaw.

Vaughn held tight to his dad and they ran.

Cassie took a few careful steps away from Jon. Zura was—just gone. Only ashes drifted in the air.

Jon stared at her through the flames. His eyes were burning as bright as the fire. The flames began to roll away from him, toward her.

“Jon, stop.”

The flames flickered, then died away. Jon stood there, and—she sucked in a sharp breath—burns covered him. “You—” She could barely make herself speak. “Something is wrong. The fire is—”

“Killing me,” he finished, voice rasping. “Because I still have . . . human in me. I need
more
of... the tears. More of the serum.”

He'd lost her. “What serum?”

“The female . . . Sabine . . . we got her tears.” He smiled, and the sight was horrific on his damaged face. “Killed her, broke her, made her . . . cry again and again before Ryder . . . changed her.”

Cassie finally understood. “You used her tears.” Used them to try and become a phoenix. Just as the previous experiments at Genesis had made him become a wolf shifter.

“Wolf shifter DNA made me stronger . . . just not strong enough.”

He'd wanted to be like the phoenix.

“No death . . . just fire.” He glanced behind him. At Dante's prone body. “You're alive, so . . . that means he cried for you.”

Yes, he had.

She couldn't even think about what that meant.
One monster at a time.

“I need more . . . tears . . . to be stronger.”

Cassie shook her head. “It's not about the tears. Your body just can't keep regenerating—the fire is too strong for you to handle!” He had to see that.

“I
will
be stronger!” he roared and lunged toward her.

“Stop!”

He froze.

“Let me help you,” she pushed as much of that soothing power as she could into her voice. “This isn't what you want. When we first met, you wanted to change the world.” What had happened to that man?

“No, I wanted to change
me
. . . and
own
the world.” Fire crackled above his damaged fingers. “I won't go back to being human.”

There wasn't a choice for him.

“You won't survive more risings.” She could see that.
Anyone
could see that.

His human side wouldn't be able to do it. It looked as if his skin were melting away, until all that remained was the fire he'd foolishly tried to harness inside himself.

“I just need the tears!”

She shook her head. “They won't help you. They won't—”

He bent and picked up the scalpel that had fallen on the floor. “Have to stop . . . your voice.”

Her heart was racing. She backed up.

“If you can't talk, you can't control me.”

“S-sto—”

He grabbed for her. Cassie screamed when his fire licked across her arm. His touch was scorching, burning her right to the bone. And his weapon was coming up to her throat.

Fire was all she could see. Fire and death, coming for her.

“Cas . . . sandra . . .”

That deep, dark voice rose over the flames.

“My Cassandra . . .”

Dante had risen, and Jon had been so busy with her that he hadn't even noticed the phoenix—a pureblood phoenix—stalking him.

Jon stiffened at Dante's voice and he froze with that scalpel inches from her throat.

Cassie smiled at him.

She'd kept him distracted, been willing to suffer, so Dante could rise.

As she'd told her lover, it wasn't always about killing. Sometimes, it was about sacrificing in order to protect the one you loved.

Dante spun Jon to face him.

“How do you remember her?” Jon shouted. “You should have nothing! Know nothing.”

“I know her.”

“How?”

“Because he loves me,” Cassie whispered, certain. It wasn't just about lust and mating. It was about a phoenix who had shed healing tears for the woman he loved.

“No!” Jon yelled. “He can't love! He can't! He burns, he kills, he—”

“I do kill,” Dante agreed. The flames crackled around him “You will not hurt her ever again.”

“I will!” Jon swore right back. “You think you get to keep Cassie? I was the one who asked her for marriage! I was the one who stayed in that facility for her, I was the one—”

“I was the one who couldn't live without her. And I was the one who went back to hell, again and again, for her.” Dante put his hands on Jon's chest. “It's time for your visit now.”

Fire wasn't supposed to hurt another phoenix. But, Jon wasn't really another phoenix.

Not completely. The serum he'd had must have been far too unstable when combined with his own already altered DNA.

“I'll show you fire!” Jon snapped back as he pulled away from Dante. “I'll show everyone!” He raised his hands. Fire leaped from his fingertips.

Seemed to burn from
within
him.

Dante caught Cassie's hand. “Go outside. Wait for me.”

She shook her head. “I'm not leaving you!”

“The fire only makes me stronger.” He pressed his lips to hers even as she felt the heat build. “Get the others out. Go!”

She stumbled away from him. Jon was sending fire everywhere, and he seemed to be consumed by the very flames that he made.

Cassie could hear voices crying out. Terrified screams. She cast one last look at Dante. “You'd better find me,” she whispered then turned and ran for the others.

The flames seemed to chase her as she ran.

 

“You won't have Cassie! You won't!” Jon was snarling. Cassandra was gone.

Dante couldn't remember everything, but he knew . . . the man was a threat that had to be stopped. A phoenix, but one who burned too hot and too bright.

A phoenix could only die when he rose.

Yet the man was burning himself from the inside out.

Jon grabbed him. “I
won't
let you go to her!” He shook his head and said, “Her voice, she tempts me, always tempts . . . calls to me. Shaw said . . . Cassie had to be mine. That she could never get away.”

“Cassie isn't yours.”

The flames rolled across the ceiling.

Jon's head kept frantically shaking. “I won't let her belong to you!”

“And I won't let you live.”

Growling, Jon lunged at him.

Dante lifted the gun that he'd found lying so conveniently near his body when he'd risen. He'd deliberately kept his flames low because he hadn't wanted to melt the weapon. Not when he had plans for it.

For Jon.

He fired at the man, a shot that took him down.

The flames kept burning.

Dante didn't leave, even as the ceiling began to groan. The walls to collapse.

He didn't leave.

There was a job to do.

The only way to truly kill a phoenix . . .

The fire was raging out of control. Alarms were shrieking. Smoke thickening the air.

Another part of the ceiling gave way and slammed into the floor.

Dante still didn't leave. He couldn't.

Not until Jon came back.

The only way to truly kill a phoenix . . . is when he rises.

 

Flames consumed the building. Cassie stood back, watching the fire as it raged higher. Glass exploded as the windows blew out, and the roof sunk in.

Dante hadn't come out yet.

The fire won't hurt him.

She just . . . needed to see him.

“Cassie!”

Her head jerked to the left. Cain and Eve were running toward her. It figured that a phoenix had been able to sniff out the flames.

“Where's Dante?” Cain demanded.

She glanced toward the flames.

Cain swore and ran for the fire.

She wanted to run with him.

Eve caught Cassie's hand. “What happened?”

So much. A revenge-crazed siren who'd wanted death for them all. A phoenix gone mad. A healed vampire. “Dante is making sure that we aren't hunted.”

Another section of the roof fell away. Cassie saw the sparks fly high into the air.

Please, Dante, come back to me.

A growl sounded behind her.

The guards had run—fled as quickly as they could. Charles, Jamie, Vaughn, and Keith had gotten away. She'd sent them back to Keith's house. But someone else was there.

Someone, something.

Another growl.

Trace.

“He hasn't attacked anyone,” Eve said quickly. “He caught up with us outside of Belle, and I've been keeping him near me. But I think . . . his beast is close.”

Cassie could see it. He still hadn't returned to a normal size—normal for him, anyway, and Trace's claws were out even as his eye blazed with the hunger of the beast.

She slipped away from Eve and headed toward him.

Another growl came from him.

“Maybe it's not about a cure,” Cassie whispered. Not this time. Maybe it was all about soothing the beast. She pulled in another deep breath. “Trace, control the beast.” The more she used her power, the more she focused, the easier it seemed to be for her.

His eyes flickered, shifting from that glow to a man's stare. Once. Twice.

Then the beast was back.

“Trace, control him.” She pushed harder with the power that had been locked inside her for too long.

“Uh, yeah,” Eve muttered, sounding nervous. “I think it might be harder than—”

The glow faded from his eyes. His claws . . . retracted. His thick muscles didn't vanish, but he sucked in a deep breath and said, “Cassie.”

She felt the ripple of shock slide over Eve.

“Yes, Trace.”
Yes!
“And it's okay. Everything is going to be—”

A loud boom shook the night. Cassie's gaze flew back to the building.

There was nothing there. Just fire.

“Cain!” Eve screamed and she ran for the flames.

Cassie raced right behind her.

She saw them. Cain. Dante. Striding right through the twisting fire. Coming out of the flames.

Eve rushed forward and grabbed tight to Cain. “You said you would
never
scare me like that again!”

He didn't answer. His mouth just crashed down on hers.

Cassie stumbled toward Dante. “Dante!”

Wait. He knew her, right? He'd said her name inside and—

Hell, just to be sure, she was going to use her siren card from now on. “Remember me.”

He grabbed her, pulled her close. Held her in a grip of molten steel that didn't burn at all. “I already do. Always will.” His mouth took hers. Hot. Hard. Consuming.

Her phoenix.

She held onto him as tightly as she could. Her body was shaking. She was covered in blood and grime and ash, and she didn't care.

Her phoenix had just walked out of the fire.

And he loved her.

Dante's mouth pulled from hers. “He won't ever come after you again. Jon's gone.”

She knew why Dante had stayed inside so long to face the fire. The rising. He'd waited to make sure Jon wouldn't come after them again.

“You're free.”

She had a cure for the primals. Though she could use her voice to keep Trace controlled and more man than beast, he wasn't out of the woods yet. She'd keep working until he was completely back to normal again.

But she didn't want to do that work alone.

What happened to a phoenix once the fire cooled?

“I don't want to be free of you.” Her confession.

“And I will
never
be free of you. You're in my heart, my Cassandra, in the soul that I'd thought burned so long ago.”

He was about to make
her
cry.

Her tears would do nothing but make her look like more of a wreck. Cassie was sure she appeared pretty nightmarish.

She sniffed, trying to hold the tears back. Failing. “I've loved you for so long,” she confessed.

“And I've loved you—only you.”

“Why didn't you say something? Why—”

He smiled at her. Her naked phoenix covered in ash smiled, and it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. “I don't remember you mentioning love until a few hours ago.”