“The fire started. I began to rise, and, through the flames, I saw him coming at me again. I knew Wren was going to kill me. My hearing was coming back, and Zura’s words were ringing in my ears, even over the crackle of flames. ‘Kill him . . . kill him . . . let us be free!’ ”
His brother had tried his best to kill him.
“What happened?”
Dante forced a shrug. “I didn’t die. They did.” Zura should have been more specific with her words. She’d never named him, so Dante had risen, and a siren had ordered him to kill—and he had.
His fire had exploded—going for Wren and Zura. When Zura had begun to burn, Wren had lost his last hold on sanity.
I’m sorry, brother. Dante had wished again and again for a different ending.
“Because of what happened then, you think every phoenix will come after you now?”
He shoved away the image of his brother. “It’s what we do. That wasn’t the only attack. Word spread after that—a phoenix’s weakness is his own kind.”
“So it’s better to be the only one, than to have a threat out there? That’s crazy!”
“That’s the way of the phoenix,” he told her quietly.
“That’s the way of the insane. Cain isn’t a threat to you. He isn’t—”
“He’ll realize what you are.”
“No, he doesn’t think I’m anything but human. I asked him if I sounded different. If I smelled different. You know what he said? That his Eve smelled like paradise and temptation. Like every dream he’d ever had.”
There was an odd note in her voice. Almost . . . envy?
“He’s not hearing any siren song from me, and I’m—I’m starting to wonder why you’re lying to me.”
“He’s mated,” Dante said, understanding at once. Smelled like paradise and temptation. That was the way a mate smelled to a phoenix. The way that Cassie smelled to—
“He’s in love with Eve, yes, but that shouldn’t affect the man’s ability to smell a difference in me.” Cassie turned away. “Get some sleep, Dante, we can talk tomorrow.”
“You’re . . . leaving me?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Sucks, doesn’t it? Now you know how I felt when you locked me in that closet.”
“I was protecting you.” The woman should understand that.
“No.” A sad shake of her head. “You were protecting yourself. From a threat that doesn’t even exist. Wake up, Dante. This isn’t a world full of sirens and phoenixes any longer. You don’t have to battle your own kind. But you do have to learn to trust them.”
And she truly did just leave him.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
But she didn’t leave him alone.
Dante had known that another was there, even if Cassie hadn’t realized it. Another had been standing just outside his cell door the whole time they were talking. Listening to them. Waiting for the moment when Cassie left.
The lock turned slowly, disengaging.
Cain stalked inside. The phoenix pulled the door shut behind him.
No Cassie. No Eve.
“I think we have some business to finish,” he murmured.
Yes, they did.
“Why are you crying?”
Cassie stiffened at Jamie’s voice. She’d thought that he was asleep, safe and secure for the night.
But there he was, standing at the front of the small makeshift bedroom she’d claimed for herself.
Cassie was sitting in a wobbly, wooden chair, and it trembled a bit as she hurriedly swiped her hands over her cheeks. “I’m not crying,” she immediately denied.
He lifted a brow and looked far too old for his fourteen years.
“Fine. I was crying. A little.” She sniffed.
He crept toward her. “Because of what I did?”
“No, because of something I did. Something that I wanted to make right. I’m not sure I can anymore.” She’d clung to hope for so long, but it was vanishing.
Jamie came closer. Hesitated, then awkwardly patted her shoulder.
Cassie almost started crying again. “We . . . we’re still looking for your family, Jamie. The foster family that you were with has moved and—”
“I don’t want to go back to them.” His voice had chilled. Frowning, she looked up at him.
“I told you that. Not ever. When I was there, they didn’t want me.” His shoulders straightened. “They got a check for having me, and that’s all they needed.”
“Jamie . . .”
“Did your father . . . Did he really make the primals?” She swallowed the lump that wanted to choke her. Jamie had a right to know. “My father was a scientist. He . . . worked with the paranormals. He was supposed to be making a stronger soldier . . . to help protect the country.”
Jamie frowned. “Did he?”
She shook her head. “He got lost.” That was the way she’d always thought of him, even as a child. “He stopped noticing the danger of what he was doing. He took humans, tried to give them the strength of vampires, but none of the weaknesses.”
Jamie’s eyes widened.
“He made the primal vampire virus, then he tried to keep the vampires he’d created contained, but you just can’t—” She had to swallow again because that damn lump was choking her. “You just can’t hide some things in the dark.” Like she’d tried to hide her true identity. Her name wasn’t just Cassandra Armstrong. It was Cassandra Armstrong Wyatt.
Jamie studied her a moment, then said, “If you can’t cure them, then we have to kill them. Every single one.”
Vaughn.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “There’s still—”
“How many humans are you gonna let die before you realize those primals all have to be stopped? Not cured? Just wiped away from the earth.” Jamie’s hands had fisted at his sides. “We need the freaking marines in here! It’s a war—and we have to fight them.” He gave a hard shake of his head. “Not cry over them. Not them.” He rushed from the room.
She didn’t blame him, not for his anger and not for running away. How many times over the years had she wanted to turn and run away?
More than she could count.
But it was her mess. One she’d inherited. One she had to fix.
Her steps were slow but certain as she made her way to the lab.
Eve was there, keeping vigil over Trace, when Cassie entered the room.