Once Bitten, Twice Burned (Phoenix Fire #2)(15)
Author: Cynthia Eden

This time, his control had been stronger. He’d left the humans alive. The better to use them.

Wyatt didn’t understand the monster that he had in front of him. Didn’t understand the power of the beast. Despite all of the security and guards, Genesis wouldn’t hold Ryder.

Not now, now when he had his own prey to help him escape.

Ryder closed his eyes once more as he focused his energy. Darkness, just for an instant, then . . . then he was seeing through Thomas’s eyes. The blood link was very strong. Humans. Sometimes they had their uses.

Thomas was in a white room. A redheaded woman with a stethoscope draped around her neck stood before him. Patching up the wound on his throat? The bastard was lucky he’d gotten such a light bite.

If I hadn’t wanted to keep you alive, I would have ripped out your throat.

Thomas stiffened and whimpered, and Ryder knew the man had heard his thoughts.

That’s right, human. I’m in your head. I can read your mind. See every fear that you’ve ever had.

Thomas opened his mouth. “The vampire—he’s—”

Shut up. Ryder’s instant command.

Jim Thomas’s lips clamped together.

The doctor in front of him frowned. “Are you all right, Jim?” Her voice was clipped, a tight NY accent. Old money. Her fingers smoothed over his bandage. “Did the vampire hurt you anywhere else?”

I have no other wounds. Ryder pushed the thought into Thomas’s head.

“I-I have no other wounds,” the guy said instantly.

Ryder felt the pulse of the human’s surprise. And his fear. The fear was like a thick fog in the man’s head.

That’s right, Jim Thomas. I’m in your mind, and you won’t be able to get me out. I am in control. You should never have walked into my cage.

Because now the doctor was his bitch.

Thomas whimpered.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I think you need a sedative.”

No, Thomas getting knocked out for the night wouldn’t suit his purposes at all.

Get up.

Thomas jumped off the exam table.

Tell her to f**k off. Ryder smiled, and kept his head down. It wouldn’t do for any of the cameras to catch his expression. No one was watching now, but Wyatt would no doubt review the footage from his cell.

“Fuck off, Vivian,” Thomas said as he shoved by the other doctor.

Her gasp followed him.

Thomas was appalled at himself. Flushing. Shaking his head.

Oh right, because saying that makes you feel bad, but torturing vampires and shifters—you don’t ever feel a bit guilty for those crimes?

Thomas’s heart raced faster, and, surprise, surprise—Ryder did sense guilt in the man’s mind. Guilt and the dark knowledge that if Thomas didn’t do his job, Wyatt would go after his wife. His unborn child.

So you let us all suffer in order to keep them safe?

Thomas had no answer, but maybe that was because he couldn’t speak. Ryder had frozen his tongue and mouth. All Thomas could do was walk down the long hallway, glancing to the left and the right so that Ryder could learn the schematics of the facility.

Come to me. Ryder shoved the thought into Thomas’s head and knew it would be a compulsion. Cut the surveillance feed from my room. Open the door. Get me the hell out of here.

And Thomas rushed to obey. A puppet on a string. A puppet with no will. No control.

Oh, that wasn’t technically true. Thomas’s mind was still functioning. Ryder could feel his psychic screams but . . .

You can’t stop me.

Not with the blood link in place. No one could stop him.

The human went into the surveillance room. A guard turned toward him with a smile. “Hey, doc, heard that bastard vamp took a bite out of you—”

Go for his throat.

Thomas attacked him. Punching and clawing. The guard wasn’t expecting the attack, and because of that, Thomas’s rather feeble hits were able to take the man down.

Thomas, you should try working out sometime. It wouldn’t kill you. Ryder smiled. But I might.

Thomas left the guard sprawled on the ground. A few taps of his fingers across the keyboard disabled the surveillance on Ryder’s cell.

Ryder lifted his head. Now, he didn’t care if anyone saw his grin.

Come to my cell. Get the damn door open.

Because he needed out of there. Ryder had to get to Sabine before Wyatt and his sadistic band of scientists tried more of their experiments on her.

Thomas all but ran back to him. The guy’s fingers trembled as he swiped the key card over the control panel. The lights flashed green. The door opened.

Ryder lunged forward. He grabbed Thomas by the throat. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ryder asked as he slid from the human’s mind.

Thomas whimpered. The guy did a lot of that.

“I could kill you right now,” Ryder whispered to him. It would be so easy. A jerk of his hand would snap the human’s neck. Or he could use his fangs to rip open the man’s throat.

Jim Thomas’s eyes were wide and desperate. “P-please.”

Ryder threw him across the room. Thomas’s back slammed into the wall. “Hope you like the cell.” He stepped out of that containment hell. Shut the door. Heard the whir of the lock click into place.

I’m letting you live. Be f**king grateful. Thomas would be able to go back to his wife.

Ryder was being merciful. A fairly new concept for him. And he didn’t even know why the hell he was bothering.

The child. The whisper came from inside of him as he hurried down the hallways. You know what it’s like when a child grows up alone.

Yes, he knew all too well.

He inhaled as he ran, pulling in all the scents around him. The cold scent of antiseptic. Bleach. The rotting stench of death. So many dead bodies. Wyatt had been a busy man.

He inhaled again. Caught the wilder, woodsy scent that Ryder knew came from shifters—that scent drifted from upstairs.

But the scent of fire . . . the scent of woman . . . the sweet but rich scent that he’d come to associate with Sabine—that scent came from dead ahead.

Ryder rushed forward. He expected to walk right into the room that housed Sabine. Instead Ryder entered an observation room. Two white lab coat–wearing bastards whirled toward him when he entered. Three seconds later, they hit the floor, unconscious.

Ryder looked out of that tinted glass. Another two-way mirror. He stared at Sabine. She was strapped to a table, while a guard headed toward her. The man had a gun in his hand.

Donaldson. Ryder recognized the guard instantly, and not just because he had a blood-soaked bandage at his throat. The guard’s bitter blood flowed within Ryder. The man—with his too short hair and tight, furious features—stared at Sabine with hate.