Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(2)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Shoot him,” her father ordered as he glared at the man beside Cassie.

“No!” she yelled.

But they didn’t listen to her. They never did. Bullets flew by her. They thudded into the body of the man who’d been caged.

Hard hands reached for her and yanked her away from him even as his body fell.

“No!” She kicked and twisted and clawed, but she couldn’t get back to him. “Stop!”

“Move away. The fire’s coming . . .” Her father’s words. Heavy with an edge that sounded like he was excited. His smile made her stomach twist.

Her eyes returned to the man—dead now. Just like she’d been on her daddy’s table.

“Don’t worry,” her father told her, finally glancing her way. “He’ll come back, too.”

A few minutes later, the man’s body began to burn right in front of her eyes. Fire raced across his skin.

“I told you, Cassie,” her father said as he stroked her hair. “Monsters are real.”

The man continued to burn.

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He was right. There was a monster in the room. But it wasn’t the man who was starting to rise to his feet—even as he burned. No, Cassie knew the real monster was the man smiling and hugging her.

Her father.

And one day, she would stop him.

One day.

CHAPTER ONE

It was hard for Cassandra Armstrong to love a man who didn’t remember her.

It was even harder to walk into the seediest paranormal bar that existed on the backstreets of Chicago and discover said man in the arms of some trashy vamp.

Cassie’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Dante. He was in the back corner, probably trying to hide in the shadows, except the guy wasn’t exactly the type to blend well.

Too big. Too dangerous. Too sexy.

And that vamp had her fangs way too close to his throat for Cassie’s peace of mind.

Cassie shoved her way through the crowd, muttering apologies as she bumped into the various paranormal beings—and the humans—who filled Taboo. A few years ago, the paranormals had stopped pretending they didn’t exist and gotten wild with their coming out party. Since then, clubs like Taboo had popped up in all the major cities in the U.S. and around the world.

Dante stood against the back wall. The vampire, a woman with long red hair and a way-too-short skirt, had her hands all over him. Blood-red nails, of course. Typical. The redhead was arching up on her toes and putting her mouth close to Dante’s neck.

“Okay. You’re just going to need to get away from him,” Cassie snapped as she closed in on them.

The vampire froze.

Dante tilted his head to the side and glanced curiously over at Cassie. Was there any recognition in his dark gaze?

Of course not. To him, she could have been any stranger off the street.

Don’t let it hurt. Don’t. Dante couldn’t help what he was.

But he could get the hell away from that trashy vamp.

The vampire spun toward Cassie and hissed.

Wait. Hissed, really? Cassie barely controlled an eye roll. “Get lost,” the vamp told her, baring her fangs. “He’s mine.”

Think again. Cassie’s hands were clenched into fists, and it took all of her self-control not to swing out at the chick. “No, he’s not.” Said very definitely. She looked past the vampire. “Dante, we need to leave.”

He stiffened.

That’s right. I know your name. Why oh why can’t you know something about me? Anything?

But that was the way it always was for them.

Cassie kept holding Dante’s gaze. “Trust me on this. You don’t want her sinking those fangs into you.”

His blood was special, and rather addictive to vampires. If the redhead got one sip, she wouldn’t be backing away from him anytime soon.

Then I’d have to stake her. Oh, what a pity.

“Dante, we can—” Cassie’s words ended in a gasp.

The vampire had lunged forward and wrapped her hand around Cassie’s throat. With that one hand, the vampire lifted her off her feet. “Maybe I’ll just sink my fangs into you, bitch.” Then she leaned her head in close to Cassie and whispered, “Because no one gets between me and my meal.”

“Y-you . . . don’t . . . want . . .” Cassie tried to choke out the words but it was hard to speak, um, what with the vamp actually choking her and all. She was trying to tell the redhead . . . You don’t want to put your fangs in me. That would be a huge mistake.

But the vamp wasn’t giving her the time to talk.

“Let her go.” Dante’s voice. Cold. Flat. And as deliciously deep as she remembered.

The vampire’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Cassie with a mix of disgust and rage. “You’re right. We don’t need her. We don’t—”

“I said . . . let her go.” The threat in Dante’s voice had goose bumps rising on Cassie’s arms. “And I meant do it now.”

The vamp dropped her.

Cassie landed on her ass.

Figured. She’d never been the graceful type.

The redhead turned toward Dante. “Ready to leave?” she purred to him.

Purring. Hissing. The vamp was so annoying.

“You leave.” Dante sent her a look that could have frozen a desert. “I’m not done here.”

“But—”

“And I’m not your f**king meal,” he added, a touch of heat whipping through his words.

So he had heard that part. Cassie had thought his enhanced hearing would pick it up.

The redhead glared at Dante, then at Cassie. There was a promise of retribution in the vamp’s eyes.

Ah, yes, another day, another enemy. Cassie swallowed and rose slowly to her feet.

“I’ll see you again,” the vampire murmured. The words were directed at Cassie, and they sure sounded like a threat.

Wonderful. As if she needed any more threats in her life.

Then the vampire was gone. Probably off to find another meal.

“Who are you?” His voice was a low rumble of sound, one that sent a few more shivers dancing over her skin. Maybe some people—okay, most people—would find that deep rumble scary.

To her, it was sexy. Because of Dante, she’d always had a thing for men with deep voices.

She squared her shoulders and stared up at him. “Did you burn again?” She’d seen him just a few months before in New Orleans.

He’d saved her life then. Had actually seemed to remember her . . .

But there was no recognition on his face now.