“There is no growth without pain. No life without suffering.” That faint smile was still on his lips when he pointed his finger at Cain. “You’re about to suffer.”
“Old man, I’m not scared of you.” Cain turned away from him. He reached for Eve, but she pulled back.
“Get Trace.” They’d take him to a hospital. He’d get help. Did Jeremiah really think he was the only one who worked in the field of shifter genetics? There were other experts out there. Others who didn’t torture and kill.
Maybe there wasn’t a cure yet. But there damn well could be one.
Cain hefted Trace over his shoulder.
Roberts hadn’t moved. “You son of a bitch,” he said to Jeremiah. “I risked my badge for you . . . I want my sister back!”
“That bitch is as good as dead.” The words were snarled, and before Eve could even blink, Jeremiah had lunged across the room. He opened his mouth—
And sank his teeth into the cop’s throat.
Vampire.
No wonder the man didn’t look ninety. He’d stopped aging. Maybe that had been him pictured in that coffin after all. Still and pale . . . a newly transformed vampire.
Eve grabbed Jeremiah’s arms and yanked him away from Roberts—even as Roberts fired his gun.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Two bullets blasted into Jeremiah’s chest.
One went right through his body and hit Eve.
A roar filled the building as Eve staggered back. She lifted her hand to her chest, and blood soaked her fingers.
Roberts stared at her with wide, shocked eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
She tried to nod. Managed to stagger back. Cain grabbed her. Wait. Where was Trace? Where—“Trace.”
“Screw Trace. I’m getting you out of here.” Cain’s gaze was burning, flickering with flames. He pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, you’re going to be all right . . .”
“No, she’s not.” Jeremiah’s cold voice. He was still standing? “Because she’s not getting out of here alive.” He laughed, even as he swiped away the dripping blood on his chin. “I thought I’d slowly drain Ms. Bradley and kill her, make her suffer for what she did to my boy, but she’s already dead . . .”
No, she wasn’t. Eve wanted to scream at him, but she couldn’t talk.
“Only a few moments left, then that heart of hers will stop. That bullet—it killed her.”
“I’m so sorry . . .” The detective’s voice. Eve couldn’t see him.
Cain was running toward the door with her in his arms, but then he staggered to a stop.
“You aren’t leaving,” Jeremiah snarled. “Not yet.”
Eve forced her eyelids to stay open. Jeremiah had dropped his act. Ditched his cane, and moved with that super vampire speed. And . . . as she watched, he reached into his big overcoat and pulled out a small, black box.
Her breath choked out. She’d seen a box like that before. On another story that she’d worked on. A box like that had been found in the aftermath . . .
“I taught my son so much,” Jeremiah said as he lifted the box in his bloodstained hands. “About genetics. About life. About the possibilities before us . . .”
In the aftermath of an explosion that had wiped out a home. A family.
“I also taught him about destruction. About how easy it can be to kill.” His fingers hovered over the small switch on the side of the box. “With just one . . . touch . . . of a finger . . .”
He’d wired the building. Eve could only shake her head. He’d wired this place, the same way that his son had wired the chocolate shop.
No wonder Jeremiah had wanted Roberts to lure them to this warehouse. Get them in . . .
Then watch us explode.
“Bombs are all around us,” Jeremiah said. “This is the end.”
“Get the f**k out of the way!” Cain snarled, but he wasn’t sending out his fire to blast Jeremiah. If he did, Jeremiah might hit that switch.
The whole building could explode then. Would explode, because she didn’t think the guy was bluffing. Eve didn’t even know how powerful the explosion could be. There were humans close by. How many would be hurt?
The pain in her chest was easing. Numbing. She could barely feel anything. Even her fingertips.
Her hands slumped down, dangling uselessly, but she made her eyes stay open. Open.
“They’ll think your fire destroyed this place,” Jeremiah said as his fingertips caressed the small, black case. “Subject Thirteen strikes again. He just couldn’t let the woman he loved go—obsession drove him.” His hand lifted, his fingers curling around the detonator. “And he killed . . .”
“You’ll kill yourself!” Cain yelled at him. “The fire won’t kill me. It won’t kill her! Just you, bastard!”
“I’m ready to die.” But he wasn’t pushing the detonator.
Eve tried to pull in a deep breath. Couldn’t.
“The vampire blood should have made me younger, given the years back to me.” Jeremiah shook his head. “Not trapped me like this! And now that you’ve taken Richard . . .”
Thud. Thud.
It sounded like the old man’s cane. But he wasn’t using it. That too-slow thud was Eve’s heartbeat. “Cain . . .”
He spun away from Jeremiah and raced for the other side of the building.
“Now I’m ready for death.” Jeremiah’s voice followed them.
So did the explosion. A fast, driving blast that lifted Cain and Eve into the air even as a furnace of heat swept over them.
The walls and the roof shattered. Debris rained down on them. The hungry flames consumed everything in sight.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cain crawled from beneath the rubble. A slab of concrete had broken his leg. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the heavy stone aside. He was bleeding. Pain swept through him in driving waves of agony.
Internal injuries.
The fire hadn’t killed him, but he’d be dead soon—the impact of the explosion was too much for his body to handle. His right arm was shattered. His head concussed. And inside . . .
His organs were f**king mush.
Focus on her.
Eve was in his arms. He’d used his body to protect her as best he could. He’d taken the hits, the full force of the explosion, for her.
But she wasn’t moving.
He couldn’t walk, so he dragged her with him. Cradled her as best he could. “Help!” He screamed out at the night not because he wanted to be saved, but because he needed someone to come and help her.