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Playing With Fire

Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(58)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“I had hoped to find you inside, Charles, but when you weren’t home, I got a little angry.”

He knew that voice. Carefully, Charles turned to face the man he’d once worked for.

Lieutenant Colonel Jon Abrams.

“What have you done, Jon?”

The man looked different. His smile was cold and hard and—

Charles crept toward him, then froze when he got a good look at Jon’s eyes. There was a fire burning in Jon’s eyes. The gaze of a phoenix.

“You were always so tight like dear Cassie. Such good friends.” Jon took a long, stalking step toward him. “That friendship used to piss me off, just so you know.” He drove his fist into Charles’s stomach, and Charles howled at the burning pain—and he burned. His shirt burned away and blisters sprang up on his stomach.

Charles staggered away. “J-Jon? What the hell?”

“Did Cassie know about your work with the female phoenix? Did you tell her about our little experiments?”

Charles shook his head. He’d barely worked on those experiments at all, just been backup to the others. He had hated the work, and he’d just wanted to help that poor woman escape from her prison.

“Guess what?” Jon came at him again, punching him in the face with that fist of fire. “The experiments worked.”

Charles screamed at the pain and hit the ground. There was nowhere for him to go. The flames were behind him. Jon stood in front of his car.

“Cassie was always so fond of you,” Jon said again. Then he knelt in front of Charles. “You know where she is, don’t you?”

Charles didn’t speak. He wouldn’t risk Cassie. He could stay quiet. He could stay—

“I plan to burn my way to Cassie. I will destroy everyone and everything in my path.” Jon smiled at him.

The smile was that of a monster.

“You can either work with me, Charles, or you can burn right here.”

Terror nearly choked him The thought of holding back vanished. He’d never been the strong one.

“You know where Cassie is,” Jon muttered. “I need her.”

Cassie wasn’t alone. She had two phoenixes with her—and a freaking werewolf. If Jon went after her . . .

They’ll kill you, ass**le.

Charles lowered his eyes. It would be okay to give Jon the information. Jon wouldn’t hurt him anymore, and Cassie would be plenty safe with all of her monster guards.

“I-I know . . .”

“Good. Because you’re going to take me to her.”

Charles nodded.

And they’ll destroy you, Jon. Charles hoped he had a front row seat for the show. The guy had always been a prick.

Her DNA was . . . wrong.

Cassie stared down at the test results. She’d known that her father had altered her, but this—

“Seeing what you are?” Dante asked softly from behind her.

She jumped, then swiveled her chair to face him. “I—there must be some mistake. I’ll run the tests again.”

“There’s no mistake.” He was adamant. “You aren’t human, and you never were.” He wore only a pair of low-slung jeans. He’d ditched his shirt when she took her samples. He stalked slowly toward her. “You’re a siren. Deal with it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t see how—”

“Conjuring fire is instinctive for me.” His head tilted as he studied her. “I figured using your siren’s song would be instinctive for you, but it isn’t, is it?”

She licked her lips. “No, it isn’t.”

Siren.

“You used the power in your voice when Trace was attacking up on the surface. You calmed him.”

“Is that what my voice does? It calms?”

Dante shook his head. “It can do a hell of a lot more. Get your pitch right. Use the power just right and—”

“You said that you couldn’t trust me.” The words tumbled from her.

Dante stilled.

“Is it because of what my voice can do? If I use the pitch just right, do you think I’ll get you to kill, the way the other siren did?”

“I think you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Cassie shook her head. “Dante, that’s not—”

“A siren can compel. If she sings the right song, if she’s strong enough, she can make anyone do anything she wants.”

“Do you think I’m strong enough?” She barely breathed the words.

He hesitated.

He doesn’t.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Dante said slowly. “You should know how to use your power, but you’re a half-breed, so maybe it’s not as strong with you. Maybe you can only pull up the power when you’re scared or stressed.”

Wasn’t that her usual way of life, twenty-four seven? She should be bursting with power.

“There’s one more time it comes out.” He was close enough to touch her.

He did.

His hand lifted. His fingers brushed down her cheek. “It comes out when you’re aroused. When the passion heats within you.”

Oh. Ah, okay.

“I felt your power when I was with you,” he whispered.

His head bent, and his lips brushed lightly over hers. “I want to feel it—you—again.”

The hunger for him, the lust that he could stir so effortlessly, wanted to rise once more within her. Wanting Dante had always been easy for her.

Pretty much as easy as breathing.

Loving him? So much harder.

He kissed her once more, his tongue licking lightly over her lips. He seemed to enjoy that little lick across her bottom lip.

She sure enjoyed it, too.

Then he pulled away.

“Do your work. Finish your tests. When you’re ready for me”—his gaze heated—“come to me.”

He turned and walked away.

When the doors closed behind him, Cassie finally sucked in a deep breath.

“There aren’t any antibodies,” Cassie whispered as she stared at the samples before her. When the primal virus was spread, the host didn’t create any antibodies to fight off the disease.

Except . . .

She glanced at her own results. Her breath heaved out. “I have the antibodies!” Cassie jumped to her feet. She had to synthesize them. That was going to be tricky. Her blood was poison to the vampires—both a poison and a cure. She had to get the poison out, but still use the antibodies that would help those who’d been infected.

All along, the cure had been right there. Right freaking there. She’d been bitten by a primal, and she hadn’t changed. She’d thought the poison in her blood stopped the change. But no, it was so much more than that.

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