Her own pyro bodyguard. What else did a girl need?
They hadn’t talked about what had happened—the hot sex, the wild pleasure—the whole dark-side thing that he had going on.
One problem at a time. Problem one for her right then—Wyatt. Making sure that his thugs weren’t about to go ballistic on her again.
She’d known this story was big. She hadn’t known that it could possibly destroy her life.
Eve grabbed a copy of the Atlanta Daily from the nearby newsstand. She held it up, checking for—
“Oh, shit.” The words slipped from her. She’d made headlines before with her stories, sure, but . . .
But she’d never been the headline before.
In big, thick block letters, the headline screamed ROGUE REPORTER TORCHES CLUB.
Um, rogue reporter? And she hadn’t torched any damn club—that had been Wyatt!
Her gaze scanned the story. Dammit. It said she’d torched that warehouse. That she’d attacked police officers. That she was fleeing with known felon Cain O’Connor—and that they were both armed and dangerous.
“I am dangerous,” Cain murmured as he read over her shoulder.
Her fingers fisted the paper. “He attacked first.” He’d beaten her to the press. Started a smear campaign so that no one would believe her. So that the public would believe—
Only him.
“I told you,” Cain said as he tossed the paper. “You’re not quite understanding his power.”
“He’s not understanding me,” she snapped right back. Her gaze went to the Atlanta Daily building once more. She knew this routine. Knew it. So maybe Wyatt and his goons were inside, waiting for her to show.
Eve eased back, hiding in the shadows of the nearby restaurant. She didn’t have to go in that big, imposing building. She knew Gloria’s habits, and Gloria would be heading out of the Atlanta Daily on her usual chocolate run in five, four, three . . .
A woman with short blond hair and long, confident strides pushed through the Atlanta Daily’s glass doors. Ah, Gloria. She could never make it through a full day without getting her fix.
Georgio’s Chocolates was just one block over.
“Come on,” Eve told Cain as she gave chase. No way should Gloria have printed that piece. The woman knew her. Gloria had integrity, she had—
Gloria had stopped in front of Georgio’s. She appeared to be staring at her reflection in the glass.
Eve moved beside her and simply said, “What the hell?”
Gloria bent over as if inspecting the chocolate displayed in the window. “You need to get out of town. Get out and don’t ever come back.”
Cain hung back just a few steps.
“You need to print the truth,” Eve fired back.
Gloria laughed, but the sound was weak and sad. “The truth? The truth is that our government knows about Wyatt’s experiments . . . and they don’t want them to stop. They’re giving him more power, not less.” She tapped the glass. “You know he’s promised them an immortal soldier? One that can rise again and again, no matter how many times he dies? His heart can stop”—her hand slapped at the glass—“then boom, he’s right back.”
Hell. Wyatt was promising them Cain.
“The soldier won’t need blood like a vampire. He won’t be weak in sunlight. He’ll be strong all the time. He’ll be the perfect weapon of death.”
Was that truly what Cain was? Eve swallowed. “Richard Wyatt is feeding the government a line of bullshit. Nothing—no one—like that exists.”
Gloria straightened, but still didn’t glance her way. “Wyatt knows about me.”
Eve knew her secret, too.
Not human.
“If I don’t play ball with him, I could wind up in a lab.” Fear—an emotion Eve had never heard in Gloria’s voice—hummed beneath the words.
Eve could only stare at the other woman. Gloria had been in more wars that Eve could count. She’d faced terrorists. Murderers. Never flinched. Until now. “So you sold me out because you were afraid?” Fear could make anyone desperate. She got that.
Gloria gave a short, sad shake of her head. “I ran the article because I was scared to death. I came here to warn you because you’re my friend.”
Gloria had been her friend.
But Gloria turned away from her. “Don’t try to talk to me again. Just . . . get out of here and don’t look back.”
“I don’t run, Gloria.”
Gloria glanced back at her too briefly. “Then you’ll die, Eve.”
Her friend strode into the chocolate shop. The bell that hung over the door gave a happy little jingle.
In the next instant, the shop exploded.
The force of the blast threw Eve back and she screamed, then lost her breath as she slammed into the ground.
“Eve!” Cain was there, turning her over and staring down at her with a face gone white.
She was bleeding. Her hands and her legs were cut and bleeding and she hurt everywhere . . . and . . . Gloria was dead.
Eve’s eyes were on the burning building. Or what was left of it.
Cain lifted her into his arms. Sirens were screaming from someplace and a crowd was gathering on the street.
“I’m a doctor,” a Good Samaritan in a blue shirt and running shorts said. “Let me look at her, I can help—”
“Step the f**k back,” Cain snarled at him and held her carefully.
The Good Samaritan stepped the f**k back.
The pain began to slip away. Eve stared at the fire. Cain had tried to warn her.
He’d warned her.
Brakes squealed near them. She caught the stench of burning rubber.
Gloria died because of me. Eve realized she was crying.
There’d better be a special place in hell waiting for Wyatt.
“Get in!”
Wait. That voice was familiar. That snarl—it was Trace’s voice.
She turned her head and saw that he’d been the one squealing to a stop. He was in a black SUV, his hands tightly gripping the wheel.
“Get. In!”
Cain put her in the back of the vehicle. Climbed in beside her. Her blood was on his hands.
Only fair. Gloria’s was on hers.
The SUV roared away, racing right past a line of fire trucks heading for the burning remains of the chocolate shop.
Those fire trucks sure had gotten to the scene fast. Too fast.
I wasn’t the only one who knew Gloria’s routine. The bomb had been planted, the authorities tipped off.
And Gloria had died.