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Burn For Me

Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire #1)(78)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Eve couldn’t die. If she did . . . she won’t come back to me.

His body was shutting down. He felt it. Felt the surge of the fire inside him. No. He couldn’t leave her yet. She needed him.

He put his hand on her chest, trying to stop that blood flow. The bullet had torn through her delicate body. So much blood. It soaked her shirt. Poured through his fingers.

Beautiful Eve. She looked broken. A cut sliced across her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her lashes casting heavy shadows on her cheeks. She was so . . . still.

“Don’t do . . . this,” he grated out as he kept dragging her. They were almost clear of the wreckage, and he could hear sirens in the distance. Help was coming for her. She just had to hold on for him. A few more moments . . .

But she didn’t stir at his words.

Another few desperate inches. Glass cut into his legs. Dammit. He hadn’t just broken one leg. He’d f**king nearly lost the second leg.

Jeremiah had known what he was doing after all. It hadn’t been the fire that hurt Cain. It had been the destruction. The heavy blasts that had sent walls tumbling onto him.

At least that bastard is dead. Blown into a thousand pieces. No vampire could come back from that.

Now if Cain could just save Eve.

He couldn’t feel her heartbeat beneath his fingers. “Eve?” He pressed harder against her chest. Had that been a heartbeat? A weak flutter? “Eve, don’t you do this to me!”

She didn’t respond.

The fire burned within him, raging higher as the fear spiked within his blood.

I’m losing her.

He couldn’t. He didn’t want to be without her.

Cain shook Eve. “Open your eyes.” She had to open her eyes. He had to see that she was okay. Before he left, before the fire took him, he had to be sure . . .

He choked on blood. Death wanted him. Death was f**king coming.

Wait.

He wasn’t ready for death.

“Open your eyes!”

Eve couldn’t die. She’d said—she’d said she loved him. No one had ever said that to him before. And . . . and he’d wanted to tell her that he loved her, too.

How could he not love her? The woman had obsessed him from the first. Addicted him. Damn near broken him with lust and need and then . . .

Then it had become more. Not just a physical need. He’d wanted to touch her all the time. To see her smile. To protect her. To make her happy.

Love. He hadn’t been given a whole lot of it in his life, but he’d recognized the emotion for what it was.

She was the only thing he’d ever loved in all his days. How was he supposed to lose her now?

He shook her harder. “Open your eyes!”

But she wasn’t. She was so cold, and even the heat from his skin didn’t seem to warm her.

Cain hunched over Eve’s body. “Please, don’t do this to me.” He hadn’t begged for anything before. Yet for Eve, he’d beg. For Eve, he would do anything.

Her lips parted. Her breath whispered out so softly.

“Eve?”

He bent his head over her. She was talking. She was still alive!

Her words were whisper quiet. Even with his enhanced hearing, he almost couldn’t hear them. Was almost afraid he’d imagined them.

“Love . . .” More a breath than a word.

His chest burned. Not from the fire swirling within him. But because Eve was ripping his heart out. “I love you,” he told her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. His blood stained her face. “Eve, did you hear me? I said . . . I loved you. I. Love. You.” Don’t leave me.

“No . . . walk . . .”

What the hell was she talking about?

“On . . . beach . . .”

He lifted her against his chest. The sirens were coming closer. They won’t make it in time. He knew it, damn it. “We’ll walk on the beach,” he told her as he buried his face in the curve of her neck. His eyes burned, but not just from the fire. From tears.

He’d never shed tears before.

For her.

“We’ll walk on the beach,” he whispered, willing to promise her anything. “We’ll walk in the waves. I’ll hold you in the water. You’ll be so beautiful . . .”

She’d always been beautiful to him. Strong.

Perfect.

“I’ll hold your hand,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to her neck. Losing her. He tasted the salt on her skin. His tears. “And I’ll kiss you as the waves crash.”

Her heart wasn’t beating. She wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t moving at all. Her body was there, but he didn’t feel Eve any longer.

Gone.

His head lifted. Cain saw an ambulance and fire truck race toward them and come to a screeching halt. Help, finally arriving.

Humans were often too late.

He eased Eve’s head back and let it rest on the ground. He stared down at her face. When he rose from the flames, she’d be gone.

He’d be broken.

The humans were running toward them, but Cain shook his head. “Stay back. ”

They couldn’t help Eve. Not now. If they came closer, they’d just die, too.

Wasn’t that all his life was about? Death? Destruction?

With her, there’d been more. Without her . . .

Flames began to burn along his body. The fire wasn’t even waiting for death to take him.

Maybe death had already taken him.

Through the flames, he saw the humans freeze. They stumbled back, raising their hands into the air. His own hands were on Eve. He had to keep touching her, even though she was gone.

Gone.

The fire erupted, consuming him, and when hell reached for him with greedy claws, Cain didn’t fight.

The flames raced over her skin. Eve felt them, a warm touch along her body. Not pain.

She didn’t feel any pain, not anymore.

Her eyes opened. Fire was around her. Such chaos. A slow drumming began, shaking her chest, then growing faster, harder, filling her whole body.

She gasped, sucking in air, near starved for breath. She tasted flames. Smoke.

There were raised voices. Screaming for her. Telling her that help was there.

Where?

She sat up and saw the flames. The building—the building they’d been in had been destroyed, but she was just outside of the broken shell that remained. On the ground. Eve glanced down at her clothes. Even in the darkness she could see the blood that soaked her shirt.

Her blood. She’d been shot. The detective—he’d hit her accidentally. She’d been trying to help him and—

Her hand touched her chest. There was no wound. She started to shake. There should have been a wound. The bullet had ripped into her. There was a hole in her shirt from the impact.

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