Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(36)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Jon hadn’t been particularly eager for that phase of the project. If the injections hadn’t worked . . . that would have been the end of me.

“A young phoenix was held in Genesis a while back,” Jon shared with her. There was no one for her to tell. “Sabine was easier to break than the males, because she didn’t realize what she was.” Not until the first fire had consumed her.

He’d watched the videos of Sabine Acadia’s deaths. Seen her terror. Each time, she’d been so afraid.

But she’d kept coming back.

“Her tears were collected and used to create the serum. It was believed that if someone with shifter DNA received enough dosages of that serum, he would change.”

“You were a shifter?”

“Thanks to Genesis, I was.” The first stage of their experiments. He glanced down at his hands. Since the fire, his claws hadn’t come out. Were they gone for good?

He would miss them. It had been enjoyable to slash the throats of his enemies.

It had been even better to watch men burn before him.

“Is it a . . . permanent change?” Shaw asked carefully. “I heard that the soldiers who went through the shifter program had to undergo continuous injections in order to keep their beasts.”

They hadn’t been born with the animal in them. Without those injections, the beast died.

“You took your injection right before Cassandra shot you,” Shaw continued, frowning. “If you die again, is that it? Or will you rise again?”

He wasn’t sure of that. That’s why you’re still living, Shaw. “We’re going to need more tears to keep creating the serum.” More tears. More dosages. He wanted to be certain.

“How are we going to get them?” Shaw asked, nervously shoving back some of her hair.

He smiled at her. “We’re going to hunt phoenixes, of course.” He knew exactly where to start.

The strongest phoenix. Dante. The bastard who actually thought he’d escaped with Cassie. “You did insert the tracking device on Cassie, correct?”

A grim nod. “I slipped it into her vein. If she tries to take it out, she could bleed to death.”

Shaw was appealing to Jon more and more. A strong mind and, seemingly, a very weak conscience. She’d be the perfect tool for him.

“I wish you hadn’t destroyed all of my samples,” she said, the words snapping a bit.

His eyes narrowed. He hadn’t meant to do that—the fire had just gotten a little beyond his control.

And I liked it.

“But . . . ah . . . I am sure that we’ll get more samples from Cassandra soon.”

Yes, they would.

“You must find Cassandra Armstrong,” Shaw said. “We need her.”

His temples began to throb. “Cassie’s mine.”

Shaw nodded. “We can’t let her escape.”

Cassie’s scent had seduced him for years. He’d been drawn to her even before his enhancement program had started. But after that enhancement, he’d wanted her even more. Her voice—her scent—everything seemed to call to him.

“She won’t get away.” He needed her for the genetics knowledge she would bring to him, but more than that . . . he just needed her.

Shaw was still talking. Saying something else about Cassie. The throbbing in his temples was worse, and all he could see—wasn’t Shaw. It was Cassie.

Cassie was the key to everything he wanted. Cassie. Once they captured her and Dante, they’d take as many samples as they wanted.

They would do what they wanted.

The power of hell was in Jon’s veins. There was no stopping him now. And those who tried . . .

They’d die.

“I have men I can contact to help us. An army at my beck and call,” he snapped, suddenly realizing that a heavy silence had hit the room. An army that wouldn’t realize he wasn’t taking orders from Uncle Sam anymore. They would follow his orders, never thinking that he would mislead them. Fools. He’d been waiting for this, planning.

By the time the suits upstairs in the government offices figured out what was happening, it would be too late.

The world would be his.

And so would Cassie Armstrong.

They were in Louisiana. Progress. Cassie’s legs definitely felt like Jell-O . If she didn’t get off that motorcycle soon, she was pretty sure that she might collapse.

She braked at a gas station. Well, gas station/casino. It was one of those weird combos that she saw only in Louisiana.

There was a small motel behind that station, and then—nothing but swamp. Twisting trees. Thick green water. And, she was sure, plenty of alligators.

“Why are we stopping here?” Dante’s voice rumbled from behind her.

She shoved down the kickstand. “Because while you might be superman, I’m not.” Not even close. “I need to rest.” Before she fell on her face. Just a few hours of sleep, then they could keep going on the road.

If they weren’t on the motorcycle, they could take turns—one driving while the other slept.

But unless she stole a vehicle . . . and that would just attract attention we don’t want . . . she needed to crash in that no-tell-motel.

“Please tell me you have some money,” Cassie muttered as she pushed away from the motorcycle. If he didn’t have money, she might just sleep right there on the ground.

“I have money.”

She could have kissed him. Except, well, she knew where the kissing would lead.

Dante glanced around the dark station and then toward the motel. “No one seems to be here.”

“Because it’s close to one a.m., and sane people are sleeping.” She took his hand and started dragging him toward the motel’s office. “Let’s go be sane, too.”

The door to the office was locked. Fabulous. Cassie lifted her fist. Banged. “Hello!” Oh, please, come answer. Please.

“Someone’s coming,” Dante said as he stiffened beside her.

Great. Perfect. She was going to crash into that bed and—

His fingers curled around her hand, stopping her banging. “Not from inside.”

Uh, what?

He turned his head and stared out at the swamp. “Someone is coming from out there.”

He stepped in front of her, putting his body between hers and whoever it was that was venturing out of the swamp.

“Put your hands up!” The roar broke the night.

Dante didn’t raise his hands.

“I said . . .”

She was pretty sure that was the sound of a shotgun being cocked.