Why? Why did you do this, Dante?
She’d trusted him. In just a few moments time, he’d destroyed that trust. From sex to betrayal in five minutes flat. What girl was supposed to handle that?
“We need to get back to Trace,” she said, squaring her shoulders. She’d drugged him already, dosing him with tranqs that had stopped his shift, but she still needed to treat the wounds on his body.
She noticed that Cain made sure she exited and then he came out after her, swinging the heavy metal door shut behind them.
And sealing Dante inside.
Cassie lifted her chin and tried to act like Dante hadn’t just killed a part of her.
If only she were a better actress.
They went back to her lab. Eve was helping to patch up Charles. Poor Charles. The man looked shell-shocked.
“Are you going to leave?” she asked him quietly.
Charles had been Cassie’s assistant for so long. His half-sister had been a shifter, one who’d been taken into the Genesis program on a very much not voluntary basis. By the time Charles had found her, it had been too late. She’d been broken by what Genesis had done to her.
Kerri had taken her own life.
He’d wanted to work with Cassie, to help others like Kerri, but there was fear in his eyes now.
“I think this is all too much for me,” Charles muttered. “I thought I could handle it, but the ones here are just too strong. Too dangerous.”
Wasn’t that what Cassie’s father had told her? That some of the paranormals were too strong and dangerous? That they had to be put down for the protection of the humans? She hadn’t wanted to believe he could be right.
And she hadn’t wanted to believe that Dante would betray her, either.
“If you want to leave,” Cassie said, holding Charles’s gaze, “I understand.”
Charles nodded. His gaze drifted away from hers, and she knew . . . Charles would be leaving soon. There was too much fear in his posture.
And too much blood on his clothes.
He’d come close to dying, and she knew that he didn’t want to join Kerri in death.
Cassie glanced toward her operating table. Heavy metal strips closed over Trace’s arms, legs, and chest. A mask was over his face, and the drug that he was being given was designed to keep him out.
Stable, comfortable, and definitely out.
Charles shuffled out of the room. Cassie bit her lip and didn’t stop him. He had been her confidant, and because she liked him so much, she couldn’t stop him.
If he wanted to walk away and forget monsters for a time, didn’t he deserve that chance?
When the doors slid closed behind him, her shoulders hunched a bit.
“What happened?” Eve asked as she crept closer to Cassie. “The last report that you sent said Trace was getting better.”
“He was . . . ”
“You also didn’t mention in that report,” Cain said, voice hard, “that you had a homicidal phoenix waiting to kill me.”
She flinched. “I didn’t know. Dante said he would help me.”
“He lied.”
Yes, he had.
“He’s the oldest phoenix I’ve ever met,” Cassie said as she rolled her shoulders, trying to push some of her tension away. “I thought his DNA would be the key I needed in order to find a cure—”
Eve brushed her fingers across Trace’s forehead. “He’s not going to ever be the same, is he?”
The same? “No, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still have a good life.”
Eve nodded and kept caressing his forehead. A tear slid down her cheek.
“I don’t understand how he got out.” Cassie glanced around the room and her gaze lit on the smashed remains of the closet.
She’d been in that closet, calling for help. Screaming for help.
The memory of Trace’s rough voice slipped through her mind. Help . . . Cass . . . She stilled. Was it even possible? No, no. Surely he hadn’t heard her—
But his whole body had been enhanced by the Lycan-70 drug. That enhancement had made him bigger, stronger. Had it given him enhanced hearing and vision? Possible. So very possible.
It had been hard to fully gauge his enhancements because his beast side had been so powerful.
“He didn’t hurt me,” Cassie said softly. He’d tackled Cain because Cain had been holding the gun to her head. She frowned at Cain.
He blinked. “What?”
“Thanks for shoving the gun at me.”
He flushed. “I was trying to do something to keep your attack phoenix off me!”
But he hadn’t been able to stop Trace from attacking. Trace had sliced him and then Trace had come back and tried to shield Cassie.
“How are your wounds?” Cassie asked Cain.
“Hurting like a bitch,” he replied instantly. “But don’t worry. It’s nothing that will kill me.” His smile was bitter. “I’ve felt death coming too many times. The bastard isn’t here now.”
Eve had already taken out some bandages for Cain. Once upon a time, she had done a stint in med school. The woman would be able to patch up her lover, no problem.
Patching up Trace? That would take much more of an effort.
“He calmed down when you talked to him,” Eve said, nodding toward Trace. “Whatever was happening to him, he remembered your voice.”
Your voice is your power. That was what Dante had told her. When you sing your siren’s song.
She backed away from Trace. Turned slowly to face Cain. “Do you hear anything . . . odd . . . when I talk to you?”
He frowned at her. Eve was cutting away his shirt. “Um, do I sound normal to you? Do I smell normal?” How bizarre is this conversation?
Speaking of bizarre . . . she’d just broken up a fight between two phoenixes and a werewolf. Her world was nothing but a bizarre bonanza.
Cain leaned toward her and inhaled deeply. “You smell . . . sweet.” He winced when Eve applied a bit too much pressure to his wound. “Not like you,” he hurried to reassure her. “Love, you know you smell like paradise and temptation. Every damn dream I’ve ever had.”
She smiled at him.
Cassie glanced away, feeling like an intruder just to have seen that intimate smile. “I-I knew it wasn’t true. I don’t know why he said—”
“But . . . there is something about your voice,” Cain muttered.
She tensed.
“It makes me feel . . . calm.”
Calm was the last thing she was feeling.
Cain shrugged. “Maybe that’s what is supposed to happen, though, right? You’re a doctor. You soothe your patients.”