Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire 1)

Eve kept one hand wrapped tightly around the stake. Maybe it was sliding into Ryder’s flesh, just a little, but she needed the guy to understand she meant business. She lifted her other hand and turned it, wrist first, toward Ryder’s mouth. “Bite me.”

Cain’s hands closed over her shoulders. “Are you insane?”

Ryder wasn’t biting her. He’d tilted his head to the side, and, sure enough, he was looking at her like she was the crazy one.

Takes one to know one . . .

“He can taste the fire in your blood. He said so. He said you tasted like the other phoenix.” She pushed her wrist toward the vamp’s mouth. Since when did a vampire turn away from a bite? “If I’m like you, he’ll know with one taste, Cain.”

She wasn’t going to let Cain kill the vampire, not when he could give her so much valuable information. Tell me what I am.

If she was like Cain, like the other phoenix, then she wasn’t alone. She wasn’t the freak in the world.

“Bite her and you die,” Cain promised.

“Don’t bite me,” Eve snapped right back, “and I’ll shove this stake in your heart.”

“I can take it away,” Cain whispered in her ear. “By the time you can even blink, I can have that stake in my hand and in the vamp’s heart.”

He could, she knew it. But . . . “Don’t.” Her head turned just a few inches, so she could meet his stare. “I need to know this.”

She gasped at the sting of pain in her wrist. The vampire had sunk his teeth into her. The skin broke beneath his fangs, and she felt his tongue against her flesh. She jerked her hand, wanting to recoil, but forced herself to freeze.

Have to know. I want to—

“Enough.” Cain’s snarl.

Ryder lifted his head and licked the blood from his lips. His eyes seemed to glow a bit as he stared at Eve. “Lot of power . . . so much . . .”

She swallowed. She’d heard talk that some vampires could drink the power right from the blood of their prey. Power . . . life.

“But you’re no phoenix.” Ryder gave a brief negative shake of his head. “You’re something”—another swipe of his tongue over his lips—“altogether different.”

Of course she was. Her skin chilled. Eve stared down at the vamp. “You truly want to save her?”

He nodded.

“Beaumont,” she told him. “Damon said Wyatt had a lab in—”

But the vampire was already gone. His kind could move so quickly.

Kill so easily.

“Why?” Cain demanded, voice cutting like a knife.

Eve tossed the stake to the ground. “If Wyatt kills me, I want to know if I could rise again.” Like you.

But she wasn’t like him.

Wasn’t like anyone else that she knew. Even among the paranormals, she stuck out like the freak she’d always been.

He caught her hand. There were two small puncture wounds on her wrist. He cradled the flesh, lightly running his fingers over her hand. “Why’d you tell him about Beaumont?”

“Because we need all the help we can get.” Did he hear all that emphasis on we? She sure hoped so. “If the vamp wants to attack, let him.” Her head tilted as she studied Cain under the moonlight. “That’ll give us the distraction we need in order to get inside and get to Wyatt.”

One brow rose even as he kept stroking her flesh. “You’ve got a devious mind.”

Yes, she did.

His head bent toward her. His lips were bare inches from hers. “If a vampire ever tries to bite you again . . .”

She shivered at the lethal sound of his voice.

“I swear I’ll kill him before his teeth ever touch your flesh.”

Her wrist seemed to throb. She gazed into his eyes and saw the certainty of that dark promise. “If a vamp ever tries to bite me again”—she brought her lips closer to his—“I swear I’ll kill him myself.”

She kissed Cain, pressing her lips tight against his. Eve needed his taste. Wanted him so much.

The ache inside her never seemed to stop. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as much as she wanted him.

His tongue brushed over hers. Thrust into her mouth. She rose onto her toes, holding him tighter. She wanted to get closer to him. Skin to skin—only that would be good enough.

He lifted her up. Pushed her back against the cold, metal body of the car that Ryder had left behind. His mouth didn’t leave hers. Her hands were on his shoulders. His hands bit into her waist.

His tongue . . .

A moan built in her throat. It had to be wrong to want someone so much.

But . . . being wrong . . . oh, it could feel good.

Cain’s head lifted. His gaze, simmering with dark fire, met hers. Eve’s breath came out in a low rush. She couldn’t look away from him.

Not even when she heard the shuffle of footsteps heading toward them. When she heard the cocking of a rifle, it was Cain who turned to face the new attack, not her.

“What the hell are you doin’ to that girl?” a fierce voice demanded.

Eve knew the voice had to belong to the old man, the one who’d been sleeping in the motel’s office.

“Nothing she doesn’t want done,” Cain murmured back.

I’d definitely wanted it. She still did. The threat of a rifle wasn’t cooling her lust.

“Either get a room and pay me,” the guy snapped, “or get off my property.”

Eve caught Cain’s hand. “We’re leaving.” They were so close to Beaumont. They’d be safe only after they took down Wyatt, after they ended the twisted manhunt that he had launched on them.

The man, hands trembling a bit, lowered his rifle. As Eve and Cain walked by him, his gaze swept over them. Seemed to linger a bit on her face.

It’s dark. He won’t see much.

“You—you sure you don’t want a room?”

Eve frowned. The guy was trying to get them to stay?

“Just forget you ever saw us,” Cain advised him, opening the passenger door for Eve and ushering her inside their borrowed ride. “It’ll be better that way for you.”

When they pulled away from that little motel, Eve glanced back. The old man was still standing in the middle of the parking lot, watching them.

James Andrews didn’t move until the red taillights had disappeared. But as soon as that car vanished, he sucked in a deep breath.

That man’s eyes had glowed with fire.

James pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialed the number he’d called a dozen times before . . . ever since he’d started working with Doctor Richard Wyatt.