Once Bitten, Twice Burned

CHAPTER EIGHT

Fucking chaos. That was all he saw. Chaos. Screams and growls filled the air as Ryder fought his way through the second Genesis facility. Locating this place had been a real bitch, but he hadn’t given up. Sure, he’d betrayed some people. Killed others during his hunt for information. My hunt for Sabine.

But he’d gotten there. He’d found Wyatt’s hiding spot, and Sabine had to be there.

He’d make Wyatt reveal her location because Ryder was not leaving without her. From now on, Ryder planned to keep Sabine at his side.

Need her.

The hunger that he felt for her had only grown since he’d escaped from his prison at Genesis. Something was wrong with him. He was certain of it. Wyatt had done something to him. Ryder had taken the blood of others since first biting Sabine—drained plenty of ’em—but no matter how much blood he took, it didn’t satisfy him. There was always a hunger inside of him. A craving for her.

He rushed down the hallway, stopping outside the door he knew would lead to Wyatt’s office. He could smell the bastard inside. Ryder also knew that a trap waited for him behind that door—I can smell your guards, too, Wyatt—but he didn’t care. They were all about to see just how strong he was.

But Ryder didn’t kick his way inside the room. Why waste the energy on a fancy entrance? He opened the door quietly, slowly. He’d take his time and see just what Wyatt had planned.

The floor creaked beneath his feet as he entered the room. Wyatt had his back to him. The guy was leaning over his desk. Oh, but it would feel good to rip open the jerk’s throat.

Wyatt leaned forward a bit more and his hand slid under the edge of the desk. In the next second, the door to the office slid closed, sealing them inside. Then Wyatt spun toward him. The guy had some kind of gas mask on, and Wyatt sneered, “Your mistake, phoenix—”

Ryder rushed toward him. I’m not a phoenix, asshole. And you’re dead.

Shock widened Wyatt’s eyes. “Wh-what—”

Gas drifted from the small vents in the ceiling. Ryder glanced up at that smoky gas. Right, that would explain the mask. Since Wyatt had obviously been expecting someone else to come busting through his office door, the guy had set the wrong trap. The gas didn’t have any effect on Ryder. That horrifying knowledge was bright in Wyatt’s gaze.

Before Ryder could grab Wyatt and sink his fangs into the jerk’s flesh, a narrow door to the right slid open. Five guards rushed out, their weapons clutched tightly. They also wore the masks, as if that would keep them safe.

Ryder snarled and attacked. The fury that had built and built for days within him erupted. Fangs and claws slashed. The guards weren’t going to stop him. The guards—some that he recognized from his time at Genesis—weren’t ever putting him back in a cage again. They weren’t going to hurt anyone else again.

Their bodies slammed into the floor. Their blood covered him.

The hissing of the gas continued. Wyatt was clutching his mask, looking as if fear had frozen him.

Ryder locked his gaze on the bastard, and taking one slow step at a time, he closed in on the guy. No escape. This reckoning was long overdue. “You have something of mine, Wyatt,” he said, snapping his teeth together, “and I want her back.”

Wyatt tried to punch at him. Like that was impressive. Ryder punched back, hard enough to send the mask flying off Wyatt’s head. Then Ryder put his claws on Wyatt’s face. “Where. Is. She.”

Wyatt started to laugh then. “Addicted, aren’t you?”

Ryder sliced the skin on Wyatt’s left cheek. The laughter didn’t stop. So he sliced open the doctor’s right cheek. Matching wounds.

The blood flowed and Wyatt tried to fight him again.

Fool. “I can kill you quickly,” Ryder said, “or I can do it slowly. Either way, you aren’t getting out of this room.” Actually, he’d already planned for the slow death, but why tell Wyatt that?

Wyatt’s face was red, mottled. And when he lifted his hand to swing at Ryder, the move was slow, uncoordinated. Ah, the gas was kicking in. “Won’t . . . kill . . .” Wyatt muttered.

“Hell, yes, I will,” Ryder snapped right back. He’d take extreme pleasure in gutting the guy.

But Wyatt shook his head. “The gas . . . won’t . . . kill . . . me . . . just . . . sleep . . .”

Wasn’t that fucking fabulous to know. “Where is Sabine.” Not a question. A snarled command.

“Dead,” Wyatt whispered, his voice hoarse. “Dead . . . over and over . . . dead.”

Ryder sank his teeth into Wyatt’s throat. Why waste any more time? He’d take his blood and make the bastard lead him to Sabine.

The instant that Wyatt’s blood slid onto his tongue, Ryder knew something was wrong. His body began to shudder, no, to spasm. He couldn’t control the spasms. Couldn’t stop them. Ryder tossed Wyatt across the room.

Wyatt slammed into a window, breaking the glass with his head, and the guy sucked in deep gasps of breath. Fresh air that came through the broken window.

Ryder spat out the man’s blood. It didn’t help. His body continued to spasm and he fell to the floor. What the hell?

“Told you . . . before . . .” Wyatt gasped, “I’m . . . poison.” Wyatt rolled over to face him. “The others . . . the en-enhanced ones could . . . smell the poison. Knew to . . . stay away.”

Fuck. The story the guy had spun about the primal vamps was true. But then, deep down, Ryder had suspected it was.

I’d just hoped like hell that it was BS.

Ryder’s hands flattened on the floor. It felt like his insides were ripping open, but at least the spasms had stopped.

“And that’s what . . . h-happens . . . with just a few . . . drops . . .”

Ryder lifted his head. Found Wyatt smiling. “Guess what would . . . happen,” Wyatt said, “if you took . . . more?”

Using every bit of energy he could drag up, Ryder pushed to his feet. “I don’t have to use my”—hell, he hurt—“fangs to kill you. I can do it with my bare hands.”

And he would. Each step was brutal, but Ryder made his way across the room. He grabbed Wyatt and yanked the bastard up toward him. “Sabine.”

“Want . . . her, do you?” Satisfaction rolled in the words. The mad scientist, pleased with the results of his experiments.

“What did you do to me?” The question burst from him. His claws slashed into Wyatt. “Why do I need her so much?” So much that when he closed his eyes, he saw her. He couldn’t escape from his need. Not in dreams. Not in blood.

There was no place that she didn’t reach. That she didn’t haunt.

“I did . . . nothing . . .”

Bullshit.

“The beast . . . did it all. You don’t know what you are . . .” Wyatt’s voice rose in pain when Ryder drove his claws into the guy’s side. “I . . . do. The first.”

“I’m gonna be the first one to send you to hell, that’s for sure!”

“She’s your match. Without her . . . you’ll . . . insane . . .”

What? He’d go insane? Now it was Ryder’s turn to laugh. “I’m already there.” The pain in his gut had lessened, but he wasn’t about to make the mistake of letting Wyatt’s blood anywhere near his fangs again. “So tell me where to find her or you’re about to see just how it feels to have your skin peeled away.”

Then Ryder heard a scream. Long and high. And he smelled smoke.

“You don’t have to find her.” Wyatt’s head sagged. “She’s coming. Vivian and I—we set her after the other . . . phoenix. Got to see . . . which stronger . . .”

“Always experimenting, aren’t you, bastard?” Ryder put his hand over Wyatt’s chest. Without his heart, he’d like to see how the guy kept living. “You won’t experiment anymore.”

Wyatt’s lashes lifted. His body stiffened, and suddenly, he didn’t look nearly so weak.

Wyatt shoved Ryder back. “If you kill me, you won’t find out which of your own damn vampire group sold you out to me.”

No, definitely not so weak. Had he ever been weak? Had the jerk just played him?

Ryder’s body tensed.

“Do you think it was just chance that you were taken? You? When there are so many vampires out there?” Wyatt’s voice mocked him. No more weakness. No more stutters. The guy was a damn good actor. He’d just been delaying . . . until what? Until he smelled the smoke. “Your own kind sold you out. Some didn’t want to be monsters. Some wanted a cure.”

“A cure you promised them?”

“A cure I was close to finding.” Wyatt’s hands fisted. “So close . . . until Cain O’Connor brought down Genesis. The phoenix burned my facility to the ground. He destroyed all of my research!”

“Yeah, cry me a fucking river. I’m betting you had plenty of backup research to keep you busy. Hell, all you did was retreat to this facility.” Enough talk. Time for the kill. He lifted his claws.

“They’re out!”

The fast words didn’t give him any pause. Ryder shoved his claws into Wyatt’s chest.

Wyatt groaned. “The vampires . . . the primals . . . most of them are dead, but some got out. They aren’t contained any longer.”

The hell they were. He wasn’t about to believe another lie.

“I was trying to . . . fix them.”

Ryder’s claws jerked back. Wyatt’s body swayed.

But the doc kept talking. “You were the first. Your blood was . . . pure. I thought the pure blood would . . . fix what was broken.”

“Did it?” Not that he was buying this but . . .

Wyatt’s gaze held his. Blood streamed from his wounds. Somehow, the guy was still on his feet. Were his wounds healing? Maybe. “I gave it . . . just to three of them,” Wyatt muttered. “Needed a . . . test pool. They grew stronger and more . . . savage.”

Not what he’d been hoping to hear.

“Primals have . . . a strong psychic sense. They pick up emotions . . . needs . . . your blood tied them to you.”

Wasn’t that grand?

“You want her blood . . . they feel what you feel . . . they want her.”

This shit just got better and better. “Then they’re dead.” Simple. Because no one else would take Sabine. He was there to protect her. To claim her.

“Like me, they’re . . . not so easy to kill.” Wyatt looked down at his chest. Ryder knew his claws had sunk past flesh and bone. But Wyatt was still on his feet. Still talking. “My blood . . . it will keep them away. It can hurt them.”

“Yeah, well, I’m betting I can hurt them, too.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Not if they get to your . . . phoenix first.”

They wouldn’t.

Wyatt’s hand flew up and locked around Ryder’s wrist. “I wish you could kill me.” The words were growled with a dark intensity. His eyes glittered. “I didn’t want to be this way. I was a kid . . . I begged him not to change me, but he said I had to be stronger.”

What the hell?

“Stopping my heart won’t stop me . . . You’ll have to try harder.” Wyatt’s hand tightened on him. No, he was lifting Ryder’s hand, and trying to shove Ryder’s claws back into his chest. “I’ve tried, too . . . I wanted a cure. I wanted to be free.”

The doctor was breaking apart right before his eyes.

“The urges come to me. I can’t control them. I . . . hurt people. Not just the subjects. Humans.”

Ryder yanked his hand out of the guy’s grip and stepped back. “Then I guess you’re as much of a monster as me.”

“No, I’m more.” Desperate. Wild. “And I am what he made me.”

“He?” Wyatt wasn’t going down from his wounds. Whatever this guy was . . . he had a whole lot of strength and healing power.

“My father.” Wyatt’s smile was cold and evil and sad. “He liked to . . . experiment, too.”

Son of a bitch.

Ryder heard the thunder of footsteps in the hallway. More company, coming for them. Only the company heading their way . . . that company carried the scent of fire.

Not my phoenix. He’d never forget Sabine’s scent. Flowers, sin, woman. But he also recognized this scent . . . it belonged to the male phoenix he’d met at the first Genesis facility. Subject Thirteen. Cain. Like Ryder, Cain wanted to get his pound of flesh from Wyatt. They all wanted vengeance. Every test subject Wyatt had tortured—we all want our payback.

“If you want death, then I think I can deliver it.” Ryder stared into Wyatt’s eyes, searching for truth. Did the bastard really want out of this world? Was that just another trick?

Wyatt’s lashes flickered. Ryder caught the scent of fear.

He backed away from the doctor.

The scent of fear lessened. Ah, Wyatt thought he was safe. No, he was bait. “Cain is coming for you.”

He’d follow the odor of Wyatt’s blood. He’d find the bastard, and Cain would use those flames to send the guy to hell.

And if Cain came into the room, then . . .

Sabine will follow right behind him.

Wyatt had told him that Sabine was coming. The guy was working another experiment. Seeing which phoenix was stronger.

Cain was in the hallway. Sabine would be on her way after him. It was just a matter of waiting for her.

“I hope you enjoy the fire,” Ryder muttered as he turned away. He didn’t need to see the bastard die. He just needed the job to be done.

“It’s not blood that . . . was the cure.” Wyatt’s voice stopped him. “It’s Sabine. Her tears. A phoenix’s tears . . . found out . . . really heal . . .”

Ryder didn’t look back. Why stare at a dead man? He slipped out of the room and got ready to wait.

Hurry, Sabine, I need you.

The cages were open. The beasts out. Sabine saw death all around her. Guards fighting. Dying. Beings with claws and fangs attacking.

She tried to jump away from them. She didn’t want to fight. There was only one man that she had to find.

“Bitch, you’re one of them!”

Hard hands grabbed her. She looked up into the wild eyes of a man—no, not a man. He had fangs and claws—claws that were cutting into her hips. The light glinted off the vampire’s bald head.

“Let me go!” Sabine cried out. She’d put on a white lab coat. Thinking it would let her slip by the guards, just like last time. Only now, the lab coat marked her for death because it wasn’t the guards that she had to worry about. She needed to fear her fellow prisoners.

“I’ll make you beg!” His claws dug deeper, and she gasped. She’d had enough pain. Too much.

Her hands curled around his wrists. “No, you won’t.” Then she let her fire out. His hands heated beneath her touch. Burned. The man jumped back, screaming.

He didn’t attack again. He was too busy trying to put out the fire that licked at his skin. Sabine yanked off the coat. Blood had already appeared in thick patches on the white material. She tossed the coat aside. Kept hunting.

The woman had told her to go to the third floor. Others were fleeing, rushing for freedom.

Instead of running out with them, she continued going up.

Another stairwell. More attackers. She kept her fire ready. When they saw it, everyone stayed the hell back.

Then she was reaching for the door that would lead her to the third floor. The scent of death and blood was so strong there and—

She screamed when she was grabbed from behind. Grabbed, and then shoved up against the nearest wall. The vampire she’d burned—he’d tracked her. There’d been so much blood in the air that she hadn’t smelled him, so many other thudding footsteps that she hadn’t heard him. Before she could scream again, he sank his teeth into her shoulder and tore into the flesh.

Her hands were between them. The fire burned from her fingertips, and Sabine shoved a ball of flames right into his chest.

He fell back, tumbling down the stairs, and the fire consumed him.

Don’t think. Don’t feel.

But it was the first time that she’d ever killed anyone. Bile rose in her throat.

This is what I’ve become.

Sabine swallowed. Pressed a quick hand to her bleeding wound. Her first kill, but not her last. She still had a job to do. Her target. Sabine turned around and with shaking, now bloody hands, she shoved open the metal door that led out of the stairwell. Find the target. Kill him.

As she headed down the hallway—one already reeking of blood and death—a tall, dark-haired male rushed from one of the offices. His face was locked in tense lines of fury, and she recognized him instantly from his photo, even before she saw the flames in his eyes.

Cain O’Connor.

He’s the one like me. Another phoenix. Another who could die and rise and kill with fire.

He was the one she was supposed to destroy. She wasn’t even sure how that was really supposed to work. Could the fire of one phoenix kill another? Because if it couldn’t, Sabine was figuring that she would be pretty well screwed.

Body tensing, Sabine let her fire out. Not just a little ball this time. She wanted to be safe. A circle of flames wrapped around her as the power of the beast that lurked inside began to push past her control.

Through the flames, her gaze met O’Connor’s. On a sigh, she said, “I’m supposed to kill you.” What if her flames didn’t work against another phoenix? How would she take him out then? How would she protect her brother?

But he shook his head. His hair, a little too long, brushed over his shoulders. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Laughter broke from her. “Of course you are. They’re all here to do that. To kill me, again and again.” Her chin lifted. She could do this. She had to do this. “Only I’m tired of dying. Maybe it’s your turn now.” His chance to face the fires of hell. Sabine lifted her hand and sent a line of flames racing toward him.

But the guy gave a little wave of his hand and her charging fire just . . . stopped.

Her lips parted. He’s stronger than I am.

No strain showed on his face at all, and smoke just drifted lightly in the air.

Her stomach knotted. The fear that twisted in her gut wasn’t for herself. I’m sorry, Rhett.

Cain held her gaze. “You’re not the only one who’s tired of dying,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling.

Her lips trembled. The fire was all she had. But maybe . . . I can find another weapon. There were dead guards in the stairwell. They had guns. She’d get one of them. A gun, a knife, something. If the fire wouldn’t work against him, then she’d just find a weapon that would. Sabine turned and ran back for the stairs. As she fled, more screams seemed to shake the walls of the facility.

All of the beasts were out. The guards couldn’t control them. Couldn’t stop them. This place would be destroyed around her. She had to move fast.

Her hand reached for the door, but then she was grabbed again—another prisoner?—and jerked against a hard, male body.

She screamed and twisted and managed to break free. She spun, tossed out her flames—

And saw Ryder’s face. The face that had slid into her mind so many times. The face that had helped her to stay sane. Her only constant. Her only hope in a world on fire. Her eyes widened. He’d come back for her. He’d kept his promise. “Ry—”

A roar shook the hallway. The fierce, bellowing roar of a beast. Ryder tried to pull her away with him, but the stairwell door burst open and hit Sabine, tossing her back. Then a man was there, blocking her path. With just one look, she knew that something was very, very wrong with the guy before her.

There was a wild, stark fury in his eyes. His muscles bulged, far too big and heavy, and giant claws ripped from his hands. Those claws—they were coming at her.

She’d heard about wolf shifters, tales of werewolves who walked the streets. When the supernaturals had come out into the open, the wolf stories had started flying. But from all that she’d heard and seen before, werewolves weren’t supposed to look like this.

She tried to scramble back, but Ryder was there, jumping to protect her. To shield her.

Then the man’s claws—is he a werewolf? What else could he be?—slashed across Ryder’s throat. Her vampire fell to his knees even as Sabine screamed.

But the werewolf was already facing off against new prey. He’d turned his focus to the male phoenix, and he was rushing forward in an attack.

Sabine grabbed for Ryder and gasped when she saw the damage. The bastard had almost cut Ryder’s head from his body. Not just a slash . . . not just . . .

Carefully, so carefully, she cradled his body. “You aren’t leaving me now,” she told him. “You can’t. Please, Ryder, I need you.” Without him, she was lost in this paranormal world. He was her only confidant. The fierce monster who’d vowed to give her freedom. But he was more than a monster. So am I. Bending over him, Sabine put her throat against his mouth. “Drink from me.” What if he was too far gone? Don’t leave me. Don’t.

He—

He was drinking. His teeth had punctured her flesh.

Sabine’s eyes fell closed. Her vampire was strong. Far too strong to ever give up so easily. Tears pricked at her eyes. The tears slid down her cheek. Fell on Ryder.

The tears weren’t from pain. I’m not alone. Ryder will stay with me.

He shuddered beneath her and continued to drink.

Her eyes opened and she stared at the scene in the hallway. She wanted that wolf creature dead. He might wear the body of a man, but she’d seen into his eyes. Only a beast had stared back at her.

If Cain didn’t kill that monster, she would.

Ryder’s lips brushed over her neck. “Missed . . . you.” He pushed against her.

She pulled away and stared down at him in surprise. His neck—how had it healed so quickly? Even with her blood, that level of healing was amazing.

Impossible.

His gaze narrowed as he stared up at her. “Did you . . . cry for me?”

She felt the wet tracks on her cheeks. Sabine nodded. In her twisted new world, he was her only constant. The idea of losing him had terrified her. It still terrified her. She needed to know that Ryder would be there for her.

His hand tightened around her wrist. “Don’t ever cry for me again. Don’t ever fucking cry for anyone.”

His words hurt. She’d helped him. Why was he so angry with her?

Then the werewolf in the hallway growled again. Ryder’s head jerked as he glanced at the battle in progress. The werewolf was leaping forward to attack.

Ryder tore away from Sabine. He rushed down that hallway and grabbed the guy’s feet, sending the attacker falling face-first onto the floor.

The guy turned with a snarl, his features tight, animalistic, as he prepared, no doubt, to go for Ryder’s throat again.

Sabine raised her hand and sent a blast of fire out from her fingertips. The fire came to her so much easier now. As if it were always waiting, just beneath her skin.

Ryder leapt back, avoiding the blast of those flames. The fire circled the now howling werewolf, closing in on him. The guy swiped out with his claws, then whimpered when the fire bit into him.

He would soon be doing more than just whimpering. Sabine focused on her flames and prepared to tighten the net.

“No!” a woman shouted as she rushed from an open door. The same office that Cain had exited. The woman was slender, with long, dark hair, too pale skin, and desperate eyes. The woman from the photo. Eve Bradley. I’m supposed to let her live. The woman’s eyes were on Cain O’Connor. “You can’t do this to him!”

Cain grabbed her arm. “It’s not my fire,” he said.

No, it wasn’t. The flames are all mine. Sabine slowly walked around the beast and stalked toward Ryder. He was close to the other phoenix, too close for her peace of mind. So she headed for them, and, within her circle of fire, the man’s head jerked up. He snarled—a true animal cry—and just . . . charged at the fire.

Fine, if you want to die, then be my guest.

But the werewolf leapt right over the flames. Flames that had to be at least six feet high. He jumped right over them.

“Get out of the way!” Ryder yelled at her.

Sabine realized she’d made a mistake. She’d tried to move closer in order to protect Ryder, but she’d just put herself right in the path of the beast-man.

Maybe she could send her fire—

Claws sliced into her stomach. Deep. Brutal.

She fell, slamming into the floor and feeling the wet warmth of her blood soak the tile beneath her. For a moment, the entire world seemed to stop. Or maybe that was just her heart.

“Sabine.” Ryder rolled her over. This time, he was the one who gasped. She didn’t need to see the damage to know that her wound was fatal. She could already feel death coming for her. After dying so many times, she recognized death’s touch. Recognized it and hated it.

Her lips trembled. Sabine shook her head. “Don’t . . . want to die again.” It hurt too much. When she came back, what then? Would she be lost once more? Would she wake with no memory? Knowing only the taste of fire on her tongue? She didn’t want to be lost again.

She didn’t want to be dead.

I don’t want to be a monster.

“Help . . . me,” Sabine whispered.

Ryder pulled her into his arms. Her blood soaked him, too. “I will. I swear, I will.”

Her gaze slid to the left. There was fire. Shattering glass. The werewolf had just jumped through a window. Good. She hoped he broke his neck when he fell. If he didn’t . . . “Kill him,” Sabine whispered.

Ryder pulled her tighter against him. “We can stop the blood. You’ll be fine.”

No, she wouldn’t be fine. Neither would Rhett. What if I forget him?

She could hear that cold, female voice telling her . . . I’ll make sure that a bullet finds its way into your brother’s head.

“Kill the phoenix,” Sabine whispered. Her hands grabbed Ryder’s shirt. “Kill him for me.”

Ryder frowned down at her.

“Wyatt—”

His nostrils flared. “That bastard is already dead.”

Then so was Rhett. She’d failed.

Her lashes started to sag. She struggled to keep them open, for just a few moments more. The world spun around her. Ryder—he’d lifted her up, stood, had her cradled in his arms. “Hold on,” he told her. “You’ll be okay.”

“Can you handle her?” a deep voice called out. She forced her eyes to focus. Cain. He was staring at them. Frowning at the gaping wounds on her stomach.

You know I’m dying, don’t you?

Ryder turned away from Cain and headed back toward the stairs. “Always,” he said.

A lump rose in her throat. “Don’t want to . . . forget you . . .”

They were in the stairwell. “Don’t worry, love, I won’t let you.”

She wanted to believe him.

But she couldn’t.