Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(62)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Promise . . . first. Kill me if . . .”

She wasn’t making that promise. “Come with me.”

He nodded.

She didn’t drop the stake. Vaughn was out there. Somewhere. Cassie didn’t know what he might do, and she had to keep some kind of weapon ready.

They raced down the hallways, their footsteps pounding as the alarm kept blasting. Jamie’s blood made a trail behind them.

There was no sign of Vaughn. Yet.

At the lab, she pushed open the doors and they ran inside. Cassie grabbed a syringe and took some of Jamie’s blood.

Then she got to work, checking the sample, using her microscope—

The cells were already changing. Mutating so quickly.

“How is it?” Jamie whispered.

“It’s going to be fine,” she told him, her voice wooden. “Just . . . give me a few minutes.”

The cure was in her blood, but she didn’t know how to get out the poison. He was changing into a vampire right then, and her blood was poison to vampires—

Cassie stilled.

He hadn’t changed fully, not yet.

Jamie was still human. Primarily. But every second that passed would change that fact.

Her blood wouldn’t kill him as long as he was human. But when the change was complete . . .

Cassie whirled toward him. “Jamie, I want you to trust me.”

His eyes were wild and desperate. “I . . . feel it . . . inside . . .”

“Trust me, Jamie.”

He gave her a slow nod. “What do I have to do?”

“Take my blood.” If she was right on this, her blood would either cure him.

Or it would kill him.

Dante was ready when the elevator doors slid open. Jon had whirled toward him in surprise. Had the fool really expected Cassie to come up?

Dante didn’t waste time. He lunged forward and snapped Jon’s neck before the man could do more than send tendrils of smoke from his fingertips.

Jon’s eyes were wide with shock as he fell to the ground.

Jon’s men immediately started shouting and aimed their guns at him. Yes, it was what he’d expected, too.

The bullets sank into Dante’s chest.

One bullet hit Charles. Sent the man’s blood spattering into the air. Charles was yelling, trying to grab for Dante.

It all happened in just a few seconds’ time. The elevator doors hadn’t even shut yet . . .

Not yet.

Dante grabbed Charles and threw him past those open elevator doors.

More bullets hit then, driving into Dante’s back. His legs stopped working, and he fell to the ground.

The doors shut.

He knew death was close. “Get the f**k . . . back . . .” Dante snarled, and he sent his fire racing toward the men with guns.

Their weapons melted. They got the f**k back.

He lifted his hand. Tried to reach for the elevator.

His blood smeared the panel.

His heart began to slow.

His body sagged. His gaze slid to Jon. Jon had died first. Would the bastard rise first, too? The phoenix who rose first would have the killing advantage. If Jon got to his feet, if the man got his power back first . . .

Dante’s breath stilled in his lungs.

“What just happened?” Jamie whispered. The boy was shaking from head to toe. He’d taken her blood. He’d been so scared, but he had taken it, and then his gaze had fallen on the security feeds.

She’d been caught by those feeds, too. Dante had killed Jon, but then . . .

Dante.

“Stay here!” Cassie ordered Jamie. He wasn’t stable, not by a long shot. She didn’t know what effect, if any, her blood was going to have on him. He hadn’t died right after taking it. That was a good sign, right?

As long as he didn’t have some kind of delayed reaction, he just might be all right.

Please, be all right.

She quickly disengaged the security system for the elevator. She needed it to rise and open easily from the inside and outside—in case she and Dante got stuck out there. A few more clicks on the keyboard . . . There.

Her shoes slapped against the tile as she ran for the elevator. The doors had already opened. Charles stood there, eyes glassy, blood dripping down his arm. “C-Cassie?”

She grabbed him. Pulled him out of that elevator even as she jumped on it. “Get to the lab! Watch out for Jamie!”

Charles shook his head. “What?”

“He was bitten. I gave him my blood—”

The doors shut on her before she could explain any more. Hopefully, there would be time for a full explanation later. Hurry. Hurry. The elevator seemed to take forever to move. And then . . .

The doors opened.

At first, she couldn’t even see through the smoke. It was too thick. Dark and heavy, it choked her as she jumped out of the elevator. “Dante!”

Where were the men with guns? Dante’s fire had blasted them back, but she knew they weren’t gone for good.

She tripped over something. Something heavy and still. She reached down, searching, and felt the strong curve of a man’s shoulder. “Dante?” she whispered.

Over to the right, she finally saw something through the smoke.

She saw fresh flames quivering to life.

Jon was rising.

He was rising, but Dante was . . . still beneath her touch.

No. She grabbed Dante’s arms and started dragging him back toward that elevator. They’d get down to the lower floor, then he could heal. All she had to do was buy him some time. Just a little time.

When he rose, would he even remember her?

Coughing, choking on that smoke, she made it to the elevator. Dante weighed a ton, but she wasn’t about to let him go.

The flames were burning brighter, and Dante’s arms . . . had started to feel warmer beneath her hands.

He was coming back to her.

He just needed to hurry the hell up. Or rather, hurry out of hell. She punched in her code at the elevator’s security panel. The elevator door slid open and she started to drag Dante inside.

“Shoot her! Don’t let her leave!” A woman’s voice, cutting through the smoke.

More gunfire erupted. Blasting. A bullet whipped right by Cassie, burning her cheek. But then—

Something lunged out of those open elevator doors.

No, not quite something . . .

Someone.

She caught the wild, woodsy scent. Trace. He’d gotten loose—everyone was loose—and he was attacking.

Snarls and growls filled the air.

The woman screamed, a high-pitched, desperate sound.

More gunfire. Rat-a-tat.

Cassie kept the elevator door open. “Trace! Come back!”