Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(20)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Nothing is stronger than his fire.” She hoped that was true. Prayed it was. But in the government’s secret labs, anything could be created—and had been.

A suit to resist a phoenix’s fire?

No, please, no.

“We’re about to find out.” Jon still held her.

“They’ll die!”

He didn’t respond. Did he care if those two men in white died?

No, he didn’t. She’d seen beneath his mask too late. He wasn’t concerned with collateral damage. He never had been.

But . . . but his hands weren’t holding her as tight anymore. His attention was totally focused on his two men as they closed in on their prey. One man had his gun just inches from Dante’s head.

“Wait for the flames!” Jon yelled. “If you attack too soon, it won’t do anything. He can only be destroyed when he’s actually rising! The regeneration isn’t complete then!”

“That gun had better be phoenix fireproof, too,” Cassie snapped. “Because if it isn’t, your boys are going to die!”

The fire began to burn along Dante’s body. Sweeping up, flaming higher and higher.

“Go to hell, shifter.” Jon’s rough snarl had nausea tightening her stomach.

But his grip on her eased even more as he moved a bit to the side in order to better watch the show.

Your mistake.

She drove back with her elbow. Slammed it into his stomach and jumped forward. “Dante!”

The man with the gun was leaning closer to him.

Jon tried to grab her. Not happening. A burst of speed and a wild lunge shot her forward, slamming her body into the man in white—the jerk who thought he’d shoot her phoenix.

They hit the ground. Rolled. When she looked up, that gun was pointed right between her eyes.

“Stand down!” Jon yelled. “Stand—”

The whoosh of fire cut through his words. She felt the heat lance her skin, and she glanced up in time to see flames rolling toward her.

The other man who’d approached Dante—the second man in the fireproof suit—was rolling on the ground. His suit was burning.

So much for being fireproof.

“Nothing is strong enough to resist a phoenix’s burn,” she said as she glared back at the man with the gun. “Instead of pointing that thing at me, you should be saying thanks. ’Cause I just saved your ass from the flames.”

The guy’s buddy was screaming. His teammates immediately started spraying a thick, heavy extinguisher fluid on him.

And Dante kept burning.

The man with the gun hadn’t lowered his weapon. He also hadn’t said thanks.

“We have to get her out of here.” Jon’s voice. He was no longer sounding so smug. He shoved the gun away and hauled Cassie back to her feet. “I’m getting her out in the chopper. Load up in the vehicles and clear out.”

His hand was bruising her as he yanked her behind him. Her gaze flew around the area. The man who’d burned—he was out of his suit, looking unharmed, but shaken.

Another few moments, and he wouldn’t have been so lucky.

“Dante!” She shouted his name as her gaze focused on the fire that surrounded him. She couldn’t even see him over the flames. The fire was so high. Raging. Consuming.

She dug in her heels, fighting to stay back. She couldn’t get on that helicopter with Jon. He’d make her disappear, just as Genesis had made so many others disappear over the years.

She had work to do. People who were counting on her down in Mississippi. Cassie knew that if she didn’t get back to them, they’d die.

Or . . . they’d kill.

“Let me go!”

But Jon didn’t let her go. “Couldn’t do this the easy way, could you? Sorry, baby, but I don’t have any drugs to give you.”

Good. That would mean that she could keep fighting him. She punched him.

He punched her right back with a punch that had a whole lot more strength than hers. The blow staggered her. When she stumbled, Jon lifted her into his arms. “Get that chopper moving!” he yelled.

The wind beat against her. The whoop-whoop-whoop filled the air again.

But she still heard the roar of fury quite clearly. They all did. As that roar shook the night, everyone seemed to freeze for a moment.

She lifted her head, fighting to see Dante. She knew that roar had come from him.

She’d heard him make the same sound before. Or, rather, she’d heard the phoenix make that sound.

But Jon was shoving her into the helicopter. Holding her down.

“Get us out of here!” he snarled to the pilot.

Her gaze flew over his shoulder.

The flames had died down, fallen just enough for her to see that Dante was standing strong. His shoulders were bare—the fire always burned away his clothes—and he was striding forward.

He was looking at the helicopter.

At her.

“Dante!” She had to get to him. If she didn’t stop him, he’d rage out of control.

But Jon’s hold on her wasn’t loosening.

“Dammit, he’ll kill them!” Cassie cried.

Dante’s fire was racing out and following the fleeing men in their not-so-phoenix-proof suits.

Jon frowned. “You’re the mission, not them.”

The helicopter was rising into the air.

Dante ran toward her. Faster.

“Don’t kill them!” she screamed. “Dante, pull the fire back! Pull it back!”

He was still running. The flames were burning.

She had to get out of that helicopter.

“Hold her!” Jon snapped.

Hard hands grabbed her—one of his men? She was shoved against one of the helicopter’s seats. Held down.

Jon lifted his gun and fired. Six shots. In fast succession. “That’ll buy the men on the ground some time.”

She knew what he’d done.

Six shots. Jon had always been such a damn fine shot.

“Three to the heart,” Jon said. “Three to the head.”

Her lips trembled, but she lifted her chin. “He’ll come back.”

“Doesn’t he always?” Jon glanced down at her. “But he won’t be able to find you. Hell, maybe we’ll be lucky, and he won’t remember you at all.”

She was buckled into a seat then. Jon was beside her. Her body ached and throbbed, but that pain didn’t matter.

The thing that hurt the worst?

Her heart seemed to have been carved right out of her chest.

She was afraid that he was right. Dante wouldn’t find her. Despite her hopes, hell, he probably wouldn’t remember her at all.