Phoenix Fury Box set

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The water beat down on Cassie, and it was really freaking cold. Ice cold. But that was fine. She needed the chill to freeze the heat that Dante had stirred within her.

Just from his touch.

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned into the blasting water. She’d told him she loved him. Why? Why? She’d kept that secret to herself for so many years, and bam, give her some grief and desperation, and she started to overshare.

He barely even knew her name.

Of course, he didn’t love her back. How could he love a stranger?

There was still ash on her skin. She scrubbed harder, needing it gone. The smoke, the flames, the memory of Vaughn’s desperate face. She just needed it— gone.

A whisper of warm air slid over her. Her heart began to beat faster. She’d heard no sound, but that heat shouldn’t have been there. “Dante?” Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned around.

He stood in the doorway.

The water worked in the shower, but there was no curtain or door to shield her from his gaze. No protection.

If he could only remember…they’d been like this once before. Though it wasn’t like that scene had ended well—certainly not like the ending in her fantasies.

She yanked off the water. Fumbled for the towel that she’d found in the closet before getting into the shower. Didn’t waste time drying off. She just wrapped the towel around her body and hurried out of the shower. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

He gave a grim nod. His gaze swept over her.

There was something about his stare…

Her hold tightened on the towel.

His eyes met hers. “I remember you.”

The whole room seemed to be getting warmer, and all of that heat was coming right from him.

“Please tell me that you remember the good stuff,” she pleaded.

“You killed me.” Flat.

Crap. “That’s not the good stuff.” Cassie wanted to back away, but there was no place to go. The shower was behind her, and once again, Dante was between her and the only exit.

“I remembered…saying I should let you die.”

Still not good. “Okay, look, you might not believe this, but there are actually good memories that we share.” It hadn’t all been death and pain and fire.

Had it?

He stalked toward her. His hands reached out. Caught the edge of the towel.

“Dante?”

“I have all my memories of you. And some are so good”—the towel dropped to the floor—“that I want to have them again and again.”

She needed to hop back in that icy water.

“Siren.” His lips curled.

Wait. He was smiling .

“I remember the first time I had you naked.” His fingers stroked over her breasts. Her nipples were already tightening, aching, so sensitive. “I remember the little moan that you gave. It sounded just like—”

The moan broke from her. His hands were so warm and strong.

“That,” he finished in satisfaction. His head bent and he was kissing her. Driving his tongue into her mouth and making the lust that she’d tried to control grow so much stronger. His fingers kept stroking her. Sliding over her body and warming her with every caress. Down, down his hand went, until those strong fingers were between her thighs.

His head lifted. “I remembered what you taste like, everywhere.”

His fingers thrust into her.

She rose onto her toes and her hands flew out, locking around his shoulders.

“I’d never had anything so good. I want it again.” His fingers were sliding into her, withdrawing, sliding in. “I want you again.”

His thumb pushed over her clit. That moan—oh, yes, it slipped from her again.

Part of Cassie hated that she needed him so much. Hated that she didn’t seem to have any power with him. But, oh, she loved the way he could make her feel.

She’d shut her eyes. When had she done that? Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. His cheeks were flushed, and she saw the phoenix lurking in his gaze.

“I remember,” he rasped.

She gathered her strength and pulled away from him. “I think it’s t-time to make new memories.”

Surprise flickered over his face. Surprise and uncertainty?

“Cassie?”

“New memories.” She wanted to make him lose his precious control. Maybe he didn’t feel the same emotions that she did, but he could feel the same reckless need that seemed to consume her.

She eased to her knees in front of him, barely feeling the press of the tile against her skin. Her hands reached out to him. She yanked open his jeans. His cock was heavy and full, completely erect and warm, just like the rest of him. Always so warm.

“You don’t have—”

“I want to make you wild.” She would make him that way. She wouldn’t be the only one lost to this need. Cassie put her mouth on him, hesitant at first, because she was uncertain.

But he growled out her name and she heard the rough need in his voice.

Her mouth opened wider as she took more of him. Deeper. Her tongue licked over his shaft, then over the head of his cock.

She licked him again, savoring the taste of him on her tongue.

His hands rose and locked around her shoulders. A shudder rippled over his body. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Her hand curved around his thick length, and she began to pump him even as her mouth slid over his cock. She could taste more of him, slightly salty, and she liked that. She liked him. Liked the way his fingers were curling ever tighter around her, and she liked the way—

“Cassie!” Dante roared her name.

Then he was lifting her up, swinging her high into his arms. His mouth crashed on hers. She sank her hands into his hair. She was wet and aching and wanted him in her.

He pulled his mouth from hers and began to kiss her neck.

Oh, yes, that was good.

“The bed,” she managed. “Get us to the—”

He pushed her against the tiled wall. And drove into her.

Not making it to the bed. That was fine. Her nails raked over him as she let her own control rip away.

His hands slammed down behind her, and she heard glass shatter. Was that the mirror? Tiles?

Screw it.

She arched toward him.

The heat thickened in the bathroom. So did he. His cock swelled inside her, and she pushed down eagerly, trying to take more of him.

Then he withdrew and slammed deep again.

“Dante!”

Her release was close, she could feel it bearing down on her. He lifted her higher, positioning her to take and take, and every thrust sent him plunging deep into her core.

She came, gasping for breath. Holding tight to him. But…

Dante wasn’t done.

“Not…enough.” His words were growled.

She couldn’t get a deep breath. She could only gasp and feel the pulses of her release coursing through her.

He was still in her. So deep and full. And he was carrying her out of the bathroom. Finally, they were making it to the bed.

He lowered her onto the mattress. Caught her legs and lifted them up, opening her even more to him. “Need… everything .”

Her gaze was caught by the fire in his eyes. She’d wanted his control to shatter. It had. The beast was there, in his gaze, as desperate for release as the man.

He thrust into her. The need built once more within Cassie. She was too sensitive and every stroke—“Dante!” Her nails dug into him.

He growled. “Yes… yes /”

She came again.

And he exploded within her. His hands held her so tightly, the heat in the room built, and she almost expected to see flames shooting along the old bedspread. Instead of fire, she saw him. Dante kissed her. She tasted his need and his lust and his pleasure.

So much pleasure.

It was sweeping over her, and she could only shudder at the release that wouldn’t end.

She never wanted it to end.

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered her legs. Slid out of her.

Dammit . She hadn’t been ready for him to go.

He pulled up the covers, wrapping her carefully, and tucking her gently to his side.

“I like my new memories,” he said, voice deep.

That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. A laugh slipped from her, one that was real and happy. In that moment, she was happy. She was with Dante. Her whole body was blissed out.

And her phoenix liked his memories. He laughed then, too. It was deep and rumbly and wonderful.

Her own laughter stilled.

He laughed.

Her lips began to tremble.

Dante’s laughter stopped. Worry chased across his face. “Cassie, what is it?”

I love you. I’ve loved you since I was eight years old. In all of those years, this is the first time you ever laughed—real laughter. Not the bitter sound of mockery that she’d heard in Genesis.

“I just got my wish,” she told him softly.

He frowned at her.

No, her words would make no sense to him. She didn’t care. Cassie kissed him and hoped that he hadn’t noticed the tears in her eyes.

Dante was happy, and so was she.

***

He hurt.

Vaughn Adams cracked open his eyes and glanced around. He had no damn idea where he was, but he felt pretty sure that he was about to vomit.

“You’re awake.” A woman’s voice. A voice he didn’t know.

He turned his head to the right and saw her. A woman with blond hair, wearing a white lab coat.

Not the same woman. It wasn’t the woman who’d come to him again and again, with the voice that soothed and made the bloodlust still within him, even as the scent of her blood had tempted him.

“Jon didn’t intend to kill you. If he had, he would have made sure not to miss your heart.” Her voice was very matter-of-fact. “Or he would have burned you.”

“You…” Vaughn’s voice was raspy, too rough. “You…talkin’ about that bastard who…staked me?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Jon Abrams.” She gave a quick nod and glanced back over her shoulder. Like she was nervous.

Or scared.

“He didn’t want you dead,” she told him quickly. “We can’t…learn as much from the dead.”

Vaughn tried to move and realized that he was strapped down on a table.

Not good.

“Let me up,” he said, his voice gaining strength with his rising fury. “Your boss is crazy! He tried to kill me.” And when I find him, I’ll offer some serious payback. “But you haven’t hurt me, so, lady, I don’t have any grudge against you.”

She wasn’t moving to let him up.

He strained against the metal straps.

“Those straps keep werewolves contained without any problem.” Still that matter-of-fact voice that he didn’t like. “So I think they’ll manage to hold you just fine.” She crept closer and studied him with a detached, clinical gaze. “Though I’ll confess, I’m not exactly sure what you are.”

“I’m a detective with the New Orleans Police Department, and trust me on this, you do not want to screw with the NOPD!”

“Until a few hours ago, I believe you were a primal vampire.” Her gaze swept over him. “But now your claws are gone and you only have fangs on your canine teeth.”

She acted like she’d missed the whole NOPD part.

But her words were giving him pause. Claws are gone.

His heart started to race faster in his chest. Cassie. Her name slipped through his mind. The woman with the soothing voice and the blood that had begged for him to drink it. She had cured him. She’d said she would.

She’d done it.

“I need to understand what she did to you.”

Wow. Hold up. His gaze dropped to the blonde’s right hand. That woman needed to put down the scalpel and step back from him.

“I have to replicate it. I have to see…Are you human again?” She shook her head. “I don’t think you completely are, not with those fangs.”

His tongue ran over said fangs. The two sharp canines were much better than the mouthful he’d had before.

“Do you want blood?” She came closer with that scalpel.

“Keep it away from me!” He wasn’t in the mood to get sliced.

The blonde blinked. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She took the scalpel and sliced it over her skin.

Her blood trickled over her arm.

“I’m just going to see if you’re hungry.”

The blood glistened, dark red. And Vaughn realized that he was…He was hungry.

She held her arm over his face, and he opened his mouth, suddenly desperate for that blood.

“Vampires usually need a lot of blood after an injury. You still haven’t healed fully yet.”

He hadn’t even felt an injury when he woke.

“But maybe that will change with a little blood.” Drops of her blood fell into his mouth.

So damn good.

“Interesting.”

After those few precious drops, she stepped back and began wrapping her injured arm in long, white strips of cloth. “You sure act like a vampire, but you don’t look primal.”

“I’m not,” he gritted out. When he’d been primal, Vaughn had been trapped in an endless haze of bloodlust and hunger. The haze was gone. He could think clearly. I have control. He wasn’t planning on losing it anytime soon.

“Since I’m not primal, I’m not a threat.” Vaughn tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable. Reason might work with this lady. “You can let me go.”

She shook her head.

He heard the squeak of a door opening behind her. Footsteps came toward him, and he smelled smoke.

Vaughn glanced to the left and saw the same SOB who’d shoved a stake into him. He hadn’t seen the man’s face until he fell into the dirt—and nearly died.

“Cassie cured you,” the man said.

What is his name? Jon—and he is a lieutenant colonel.

“He’s still a vampire,” the blonde said quickly. Her wound was completely wrapped now. “Just not primal.”

The SOB came closer. “How’d she do it?” he demanded of Vaughn.

“Hell if I know.” That was true. All he remembered was the hunger and— Fuck, did I bite a kid? He thought that he might have, and shame burned through him. Vaughn never wanted to be like that again.

Death would be better than being primal.

Jon’s blue eyes locked on his. “We’re going to cut you up and find out. I’ll let Shaw slice you open, and then she can piece you back together.”

Isn’t he a cold-blooded prick?

Vaughn glared at him.

“Or maybe I’ll let her take an…easier approach,” Jon said with a chilling smile. “You help me, and I won’t torture you as much.”

Was Vaughn supposed to believe anything the guy who’d staked him said?

Jon stepped ever closer. His face had been burned so badly. But he acted like he didn’t feel the pain as he demanded, “Where would Cassie go? She ran from her lab. Where did she run to ?”

“No clue,” Vaughn muttered. He wasn’t telling this jackass anything.

Jon shook his head and sighed. “That’s the wrong answer.” He glanced at the woman. “Shaw, cut open his chest.”

Shaw didn’t move.

Neither did Vaughn.

“Shaw!” Jon snapped.

“He’s a cured primal,” she managed with a nervous glance at Vaughn. “Don’t you see what Cassie has done? We need him alive. We have to replicate—”

“Do I look like I give a shit about curing the primals?” Jon snarled. “I can kill them all with a thought.”

Vaughn’s gaze swept over the man’s face. “Those look like some pretty bad burns.” On his face and his arms.

Jon stiffened.

Vaughn smiled. “Someone pissed off a phoenix, huh?” He knew about the phoenixes. Over in New Orleans, his best friend had a phoenix for a sister. Sabine. He hadn’t seen her in so long, not since she’d come to town with her vampire lover and—

“Ahh!” Vaughn cried out.

Jon had just shoved his burning hand onto Vaughn’s chest.

“I’m the phoenix,” Jon shouted at him, spittle flying from his mouth. “And if you say one more thing to piss me off, you’ll just be the latest vampire that I burned to ash.”

Vaughn’s flesh began to melt away. He clenched his teeth and refused to cry out again.

“Please!” Shaw said, voice breaking. “He’s the cure.”

Jon let his hand linger. Let the fire burn deeper, scorching muscles.

“Let him go,” Shaw cried.

With a grim smile, Jon lifted his hand. “He doesn’t have to stay alive. Cassie’s the cure. Cassie can replicate it. Cassie and that fucking fantastic mind of hers. I just need Cassie. ” There was something in his voice—a desperation that pushed the edge of sanity.

Right, like that dude was sane. The pyro looked like he’d lost touch with sanity long ago.

Just like I had.

“Where did she go?” Jon demanded.

“I know where you can go,” Vaughn yelled right back.

Jon’s jaw clenched. “Let’s see just how much pain he can handle.”

Shaw was so pale. Pale and shaking, but she lifted her scalpel and came toward Vaughn.

“Lady, don’t! That’s the last damn thing you want to be doin’,” he bit out, trying to reach her.

But she raised the scalpel.

Jon’s hand flew out and wrapped around her wrist. She gasped, and Vaughn knew she’d just gotten burned.

“Did I just hear…” Jon asked, smiling, “the South in your voice?” That smile stretched as his gaze settled on Vaughn’s face. “If I’m not wrong, that’s…New Orleans.”

Fuck.

“I’ve always been good with voices, and that was just a little bit of Creole there.” He dropped the woman’s hand. “I know who you are, vampire.”

Good for you.

“Vaughn Adams. Your father Keith contacted me a while back about a female phoenix he wanted to cure.” Jon shook his head. “Everyone is always so stuck on cures.”

Sabine. Vaughn tried to keep his expression blank but his whole body went on high alert.

“You father knew the little phoenix well, just like you did.”

Vaughn didn’t like the way the jerk’s eyes had lit up.

“I need her,” Jon gritted.

“And I need the hell off this table!” Vaughn retorted.

“Cassie went to her, didn’t she? New Orleans is close. Cassie has friends there, probably a safe house. She ran there.”

Vaughn hoped that she hadn’t. But he suspected— yes.

Jon’s gaze held his. “You are going to help me draw her out.”

“No, no, I’m—”

“Or I’ll kill your father. I’ll kill your mother. Your aunts, uncles. Everyone.”

Shaw dropped the scalpel and scurried back.

“But…” Jon lifted a brow. “You help me find Cassie and that female phoenix, and I’ll let you go.”

Did Vaughn look like a dumbass? The SOB was not going to let him get away.

“Your choice,” Jon said. “You help me, or you burn.”

It was going to hurt, so Vaughn braced himself. “Bring on the fire, bastard.”

And he did.

***

Cassie paced the length of the den with her hands nervously fisted at her sides. They still had an hour until midnight. Would the others be at the rendezvous point? If they weren’t, she had no idea how to find them.

“Are you sure that you can trust Keith Adams?” Dante asked her.

She jumped at the rumble of his voice. She’d thought that he was still in the kitchen. Cassie turned and saw that he was leaning up against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on her. He’d changed into fresh clothes. So had she. A stash of various items had been hidden in the safe house.

“Cassie?” he prompted. “Can we trust him?”

“I think so, yes.” She nodded, just to try and emphasize that point. She sure hoped she could trust the man. At this stage, it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. She’d told Dante a bit about Vaughn earlier and thought to tell him more. “Once he found out what Genesis was really doing, Keith wanted to help the paranormals. He…” Okay, she should probably be careful with this reveal. “He’s the one who sent Sabine to us.” She paused and searched Dante’s gaze. “Do you remember her?”

“I remember everything.”

Her breath rushed out. “That’s a relief. It seems like your memories are coming back faster. Maybe you’re getting even—”

He shook his head. “My memories are back because of you.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond.

“You used the power of the siren and you ordered me to remember.” A little shrug. “So I did.”

“I thought we’d agreed I couldn’t use that power.” Her voice had dropped. A big knot had also formed in her stomach.

“No, we said when you were stressed or scared, that power comes out.”

Yes, he was definitely remembering a whole lot.

“I’m guessing you were feeling pretty stressed”—his gaze drifted from hers and slid to the staircase—“when we were up there.”

When she’d confessed that she loved him. Cassie knew her cheeks had to be flaming. She’d confessed, he’d gotten his memory back, and, no, there had been no claims of undying love from him.

Obviously, they were back to business as usual.

She whirled on her heel so he wouldn’t see her face. “Sabine is the only female phoenix I’ve ever encountered. While at Genesis, she fell in love with a vampire—”

“Ryder.”

Right. Cassie tried not to shiver at his name. He was very, very powerful, and he scared the hell out of her.

“I’ve dealt with Ryder before.” No fear in Dante’s words.

Figures.

She could fear enough for both of them. She ran a hand through her hair. “Keith has a place in the Quarter. If Charles and Jamie made it to the city, they’ll be there tonight. Charles and I have been communicating privately with Keith while we worked on a cure for Vaughn.”

How was she supposed to tell Keith that his only son was dead?

“What about Cain?”

“He should be in New Orleans, too. He’ll be with Eve and…” What had happened to Trace? “I hope Trace hasn’t killed anyone,” Cassie fretted. “Maybe Eve was able to keep Trace in check.”

“I’m sure Cain has him under control.” Dante didn’t sound the least bit worried. “If not, then he probably killed the werewolf.”

Cassie’s control snapped and she jerked to face him. “Why is death so easy for you?”

A shrug. “Because I’ve died hundreds of times.”

She flinched. “Most of us don’t get the luxury of coming back. Death is permanent for us. We live, we love, and many of us don’t want to die. Death rips us away too soon from the people that we love!”

He pushed away from the mantel and walked toward her. “You came back. When you were hurt before, in this very city—”

“Because of something my father did to me! Because I’m a walking experiment! But how long does it last? I’m not like you. One of these days, I’ll die, and I won’t come back.” Her breath heaved out. “So don’t talk about killing like it’s nothing. All the lives—they matter to someone. Trace has friends. Eve is his friend. I’m his friend.” Cassie’s shoulders slumped. “We all matter.”

Dante was staring down at her with confusion on his face. Did he truly not understand?

“Someone had to matter to you,” she added. “At some point, at some time, it couldn’t have always been so easy for you to kill.”

“I kill so that others can survive.” Hard words.

Maybe no one had mattered. Her hand lifted. She touched his chest.

He immediately stilled beneath her hand.

“I can feel your heart beating.” Beating at a fast and strong rate. “You have a heart, but do you love?”

His eyes were carefully guarded.

I guess that’s my answer.

She tried to pull her hand back, but his hand rose and curled around hers, holding it in place. “I loved my brother, and I still killed him.”

The way of the phoenix.

“We do what we must in order to survive.”

But if they all became monsters, what was that survival worth?

“I will do anything ”—his hold tightened on her—“to ensure your survival.”

Pushed too far, she had to ask, “Would you cry for me, Dante?”

His dark eyes held hers.

“If I couldn’t heal myself, if I were dying right in front of you, would you cry for me?”

A phoenix’s tears had to be shed willingly. They couldn’t be harvested from the tear ducts. Their power came from the pain of the phoenix.

Dante wasn’t answering.

That was an answer.

She forced herself to smile. “Not that you have to. I’m an indestructible girl, right? No need to ever cry over me.”

He let her go. “I would kill in an instant to keep you safe.”

“Again with the killing.” She hoped her smile didn’t look as sad as she felt. “Sometimes, it’s not about killing. It’s about sacrificing. Putting someone else’s life first.” Cassie tried to straighten her shoulders. “Look, how about we both just stay alive tonight, okay?” She glanced at the old clock on the mantel. “We need to leave and head over for the rendezvous.”

“You know I have to kill.”

His words fell heavily into the room.

“The phoenix in those woods—the man you called Jon Abrams—he won’t stop until I stop him.” The floor creaked as Dante walked toward her. Then his hand was on her shoulder.

Cassie forced herself to glance back at him.

“You can say the world is about sacrifice, but I won’t let him keep threatening you. And I won’t let the bastard hunt me. Running isn’t my way.”

No, not his.

“So I’ll go with you to meet your friends.” Dante gave a grim nod. “And when you’re safe, I will end Jon.”

***

The house sat, with its lights shining, on the quiet street. They hadn’t come to the home of Keith Adams in their loud, grinding truck. A backup ride had waited for them at Cassie’s safe house. “Do you think they’re inside?” Cassie whispered.

She wouldn’t look at Dante—not for long, anyway. Her gaze kept darting from him. He’d upset her back at the safe house.

He knew that he had.

Would you cry for me, Dante?

It would have been easy to lie and say yes, but he didn’t want to lie to her. She deserved his honesty. He hadn’t cried for anyone in hundreds of years. He’d cried after his brother was gone, but…

That hadn’t done much good.

“Let’s go around to the back,” Cassie said, her voice low.

They slid through the shadows, easing up the back porch. Cassie crept toward the door and rapped lightly against its surface.

Dante inhaled, pulling all of the scents into his lungs. Wolf. Werewolves often had that slightly woodsy odor.

“Your werewolf…was here.” Is he still? Dante pulled in more scents. “Ash…”

“Cain? Are you picking up Cain’s scent?” she whispered, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.

Dante wasn’t sure.

The door creaked open. A man stood there. His hair was gray on the sides and deep lines were etched across his forehead. “They said you’d be comin’, Cass,” he rumbled and opened the door. His eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Dante. “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” Cassie quickly told him. “Dante’s a friend of mine.”

Dante frowned at her. He was a whole lot more than just a friend.

The man’s gaze assessed him. “You vouching for him?”

“Yes,” Cassie replied.

After a small hesitation, the guy waved them inside.

Dante crossed the threshold.

Cassie followed the man through the kitchen and down the hallway.

The scent of ash and that wild, woodsy scent grew stronger. He’d thought the werewolf was close but—

Is that Trace?

The scent actually seemed to be blending with the ash as they were nearing the living room.

Cassie reached out, as if unable to help herself, and caught the man’s arm. “Keith, I’m so sorry.”

Dante heard the restrained emotion in her voice. The whisper of pain and sorrow.

“But there’s something I have to tell you,” Cassie continued grimly. “It’s Vaughn…”

Keith’s face hardened.

“He’s dead.”

Dante thought the man would break down, but Keith shook his head. “No, he’s not.”

“He is,” Cassie said, her words soft but certain. “I saw him. He was staked and—”

“He’s still alive, and that’s why”—Keith lunged toward Cassie and shoved a needle into her neck—“I have to do this.”

“Cassie?” Dante roared. He grabbed Cassie, snatching her from the man’s hold even as he threw the human back. Keith’s body slammed into the wall with a thud.

Her breath heaved out. Her lashes began to fall.

“I had to!” Keith shouted as he rose. “He has my son!”

Carefully, so carefully, Dante put Cassie on the floor. Then he looked up at Keith Adams. “You’re a dead man.”

A door opened behind him. The scent of ash and woods—that damn scent—was stronger.

“No, Dante, he’s not dead.”

Dante knew that voice and whirled around.

Jon Abrams stared at him. Burns covered the man’s body.

“You are,” Jon said. He raised his hand and fired the gun he gripped in his fist. The bullet tore right into Dante’s chest.

He fell back, ramming into the floor, his body landing just inches from Cassie’s. As death claimed him, she was the last sight he had.

Cassie…so still. So pale.

Would you cry for me, Dante?

“I’m sorry.” Keith’s broken voice.

No, the bastard wasn’t sorry, but he would be. Dante would make sure of it.

***

The rest of Jon’s team slowly swarmed the house. They’d stayed back because Jon had worried that Keith Adams might slip up and give away his plan. Humans could be such pains in his ass.

Dante lay sprawled in the hallway. Blood pooled beneath him.

Keith crouched over Dante, with his hands drenched in the phoenix’s blood. Was the fool actually trying to save him? It sure looked like he was attempting to stop the blood flow.

Humans. Screw-ups . Jon was so glad he wasn’t one of them any longer. I’m so much better.

“You never said you were killing him!” Keith yelled as he looked up at Jon. “You said you were taking them into custody! That you wanted them alive!”

“Relax.” Jon motioned to two guards. They needed to get Cassie out of there before Dante started to burn. “It’s not like he’ll stay dead.”

Keith jerked his hands away from Dante. “Vampire?”

“Guess again.” Jon winced when the burns on his shoulder brushed against the wall. He hadn’t summoned any more fire in the last six hours because when he conjured the fire, it hurt.

As much as he would like to kill Dante when the phoenix started to rise, he couldn’t.

I need him.

Jon knew that his body wasn’t holding the phoenix transformation. His cells weren’t strong enough. Not yet. A few more dosages of the serum, and maybe those cells would be strong enough.

I need his tears.

As Jon’s men carried Cassie out of the house, he knew that he had the perfect means of getting those precious tears.

“We have to transport him ASAP,” Jon ordered the guards in the fireproof suits who had just arrived. How long would those suits last once Dante’s fire lit? They sure hadn’t lasted long before.

“If he rises during transport, put a knife to Cassie’s throat. That’ll keep him calm.” Jon winced. His burns hurt. “When he’s calm, kill him. Just keep killing him until we get back to the lab.”

The lab he’d taken over as soon as he got to New Orleans. Genesis had tentacles everywhere, and the closed-down lab a few miles away from the Tulane campus had been easy enough to acquire. It had all the equipment that he needed.

And he had the phoenix that he needed, too. All nice and neat.

Time for the tears. Jon wasn’t going to lose his power. He wouldn’t go from being a god to being a rotting husk of flesh. He’d do anything necessary, but the phoenix would cry. It was all a matter of motivation.

You’ll feel plenty motivated when Cassie screams for you.