And second, the bastard was just leaving him there. Leaving a vampire trapped in his worst nightmare. Flames that wouldn’t die.
The flames were all she knew. Burning bright and hot in red and gold. Surrounding her. Seeming to come from within her.
The fire terrified her. So did the screams that she could hear. Or was she the one screaming? It was so hard to tell for sure.
She was supposed to remember someone. Something. A man?
The idea was there, whispering beneath the screams, but then she forgot him.
Forgot her own self.
The fire burned and burned and burned.
Fury cut through her. A killing rage. Destroy everything. Everyone. She wanted to hurt and punish.
But though the fire burned so hot, she couldn’t move her body.
Burn, burn, burn.
The fire crackled. She started to laugh. Soon she couldn’t tell the difference between that crackle of fire and her laughter. Maybe there was no difference.
Son of a bitch. He had to get out of the flames. More humans would be coming soon. It would be rather hard to ignore the giant blaze for much longer.
He couldn’t wait for the flames to die.
Ryder sucked in a sharp breath and tasted the smoke. This would hurt, but he’d survive, provided he moved fast enough.
The flames were a thick wall around him, easily eight feet high. The phoenix had planned his trap carefully. It made Ryder suspect that the guy had faced off against vampires before. Faced off against them, and no doubt killed them with his flames.
Ryder wasn’t in the mood to die.
Pain won’t stop me. He’d grown too used to it over the years. It was a companion now.
Ryder’s muscles tensed, then he ran forward, racing through the fire. The flames burned his pants, the shirt he’d jerked on before, then the fire raced over his skin.
Ryder dove for the ground. He rolled, spinning, as he tried to put out the fire that covered him. His clothes were charred, chunks missing, but so what?
He rose, then frowned. There weren’t any burns on his body. Not even any blisters. The fire had touched his skin. He’d been sure of it but—
Ryder lifted his hand. No burn.
The flesh of a vampire burned quickly. Fire was one of the best weapons against a vampire. Only he hadn’t burned.
Maybe the fire just hadn’t been able to touch him because he’d moved so fast.
No, I felt the heat on my skin.
Brows rising, Ryder walked back toward the circle of fire. His jaw tightened, and he shoved his hand right into the flames. The fire instantly surrounded his fist. He waited, counting . . .
One, two, three, four, five.
Ryder yanked his hand back.
No burns. No blisters. No marks at all. In disbelief, he stared at his unmarred fingers.
Sabine. Just what had his lovely phoenix done to him?
When the flames finally died away, she found herself strapped to a hard, metal table. No, not strapped. She twisted her head. The bindings holding her down were made of metal, too.
Her body was naked.
She felt both hot, a churning from inside of her, and ice-cold, a chill that came from outside of her body. Goose bumps covered her arms.
Static crackled. The sound made her head ache. Her gaze flew up—far, far up. At least twenty feet above her head, she saw a big, bright light.
Just that light.
“The fire lasted much longer that time, Sabine,” a cool, calm voice told her. “You must be getting stronger.”
Sabine? Who the hell was Sabine?
“Rest for a while. There have been some . . . developments.” The voice seemed to echo in the room. “We may even have a job for you soon.”
Why had they restrained her? “Where am I?”
A sigh slipped into the room. Not her sigh. A sigh that came from the voice. She’s female, just like me.
“You always have the same questions, Sabine.” Now there was a hint of annoyance in the voice. Impatience. “Rest.” An order. “The next test will be different.”
A test?
“We’ll find out if you truly are getting stronger with each rising. The fittest will survive.”
The fittest what?
But the static crackled again. Then . . . silence.
“H-hello?” she cried out.
No answer.
She twisted beneath her bonds. Pulled and yanked. Her left wrist cut open when the metal tore into it.
The scent of blood teased her nose.
He likes the blood.
She stilled.
And remembered.
I am Sabine. She thought of the cold woman’s voice. Of hell and pain.
I am Sabine.
She stared up at the light. Remembered screams and death. A nightmare that wouldn’t end. And that voice . . . that cold voice.