“Finish,” Cassie said quietly. “Please.”
He hated seeing her like that. But if it was what she needed to do . . .
He held tight to her hand. “Look at me.”
Her gaze found his.
“I won’t let you down again.”
“No more . . . closets?”
He shook his head.
“Don’t . . . believe you . . .”
The ache was back in his chest. “Then I’ll just have to prove myself to you.” He could.
He would.
Eve went back to work, and Dante never took his gaze off Cassie’s face.
Charles Trenton hurried away from the lab that he’d called home for the last six months of his life. He’d wanted to help Cassie. To make the world safer. Better.
So that no one would end up like Kerri.
Only . . .
He hadn’t counted on monsters who could conjure fire or werewolves that tore down doors to get to him.
It was too much.
He was too weak.
He’d always known that Kerri was the strong one. Always Kerri. But she’d been broken . . . and had taken her own life when the experiments got to be too much for her.
I told Genesis about her. That was his secret shame. He’d been the one to first alert Genesis to his half-sister’s condition.
Because he’d known that Kerri had always wanted to be normal.
He’d given up his own sister to that hell.
When he’d lost her, he’d wanted to atone. He and Cassie had that in common. The sins of the past often choked them.
He gunned his car’s engine and shot out into the night. The car had been hidden in the old shack down the road, out of sight. Safe and secure.
He hadn’t told Cassie that he was leaving. He hadn’t been able to look her in the eyes—
Not the strong one.
Maybe . . . maybe he’d be able to go back after a few days. Maybe he’d be able to face what waited in Cassie’s lab.
His headlights cut through the dark.
Maybe not.
For now, he was just going home. A little town that waited just across the state line in Louisiana. A speck on the map that didn’t have monsters or nightmares.
He hoped.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Cassie opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was . . . Dante. He was leaning over her, frowning.
“What have you . . . done now?” Hopefully not attacked Cain again. Or, jeez, not Eve.
“I’ve stayed by your bedside.” His words were soft. “Waiting for you to wake up.”
That wasn’t what she’d thought to hear. Cassie slowly sat up. “Cain? Eve? They’re both still—”
“Alive, yes. Eve, ah, freed her lover, and they’re resting somewhere in the lab.” Dante’s fingers slid over her body. “And you’re all healed. Quite amazing.”
She didn’t feel so amazing. Actually, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. But there was work to do. “I need to start analyzing the results.”
He brought her hand to his lips. Kissed her knuckles.
Her heart beat a little faster.
“I’m sorry for attacking your friend.”
She was suspicious. “Is this the part where you think we’re gonna kiss and make up?” Not happening, buddy.
One brow rose. “That sounds like a good option.”
She shoved against his chest. “Think again. You used me.” She was on her feet. Her first step was a bit wobbly, but by her third, she was in charge of her knees again. “I’m not going to forget that. You knew I trusted you, and you used that trust against me. You—”
“You’re the only person who has truly trusted me in centuries.” Dante had risen to his feet, too. “I didn’t realize . . . what it would be like when your trust was gone.”
“Yes, well, realize it now.” Her heart was doing a double-time beat then. “I have to work, okay, Dante? We almost lost Trace last night because you attacked him. He’s stuck now in worse shape than he was before, and I have to figure out a way to heal him.”
Dante stared at her. Then he gave a grim nod. “You had your samples taken.”
“Yes.” She needed to analyze them and—
“Now take mine. Learn all my secrets.” He walked closer to her. “I offer them to you.”
Wait—now he was all about helping?
“Take my blood, my DNA, whatever you need. Take it.” He shook his head. “The others experimented on me for years, and they could not replicate my cure. If you cannot succeed in helping the werewolf—”
She couldn’t think about failing. Couldn’t.
“Then I will help you to . . . ease his suffering.”
Cassie stabbed her finger into his chest. “You are not killing Trace!” Why was everyone else so fast on the trigger when it came to killing? There were actually other options in the world.
“Sometimes killing is the kinder thing to do.”
“No! Give me time, dammit! Give. Me. Time.” Her breath huffed out of her chilled lungs. “I can do this.” She had to do this.
He headed toward the exam table. Sat on it as he had the night before. But he seemed different. “Run your tests,” he ordered. “Do whatever you have to do.”
He was . . . helping?
“And in the end, if you need me to do what I must, I will.”
Kill Trace.
“We’re not at that point yet,” she whispered . . . and prayed that they never would be.
Evansville, Louisiana, was a speck on the map. If you blinked, you’d miss it.
That was why Charles loved the place. No crowds. No fast pace. Just the spot to vanish for a while.
He slowly drove down the old highway that led to his grandfather’s farm. All of his family members were gone now, but the memories waited there for him and—
The farm was burning. He could see the thick, black smoke drifting in the air.
No!
Charles shoved the accelerator down to the floorboard and gunned the car. The little vehicle jumped and bumped its way down the old road until he brought it to a screeching stop before the farmhouse.
Or what was left of the place.
He climbed from the car and stared at the twisting flames. They’d gutted the farmhouse, and were reaching up for the sky, stretching and destroying everything.
The only link he’d still had to his family. To Kerri.
Gone.
With shaking hands, Charles yanked out his cell phone. He had to get the fire department. Had to get some help—
“Well, well . . .”
The voice came from right behind him and had Charles stiffening. He hadn’t heard any approaching footsteps. Just the crackle of those flames.