Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire 1)

Eve shook her head, cutting through his words. “No.” Simple, flat. “I’m finishing my story, I can’t—”

“Every media outlet in the country is running with your story.”

Yes, she knew it. And that was pretty damn awesome.

“While most humans are coming out as being on our side”—Roberts rolled his shoulders and the faint lines bracketing his mouth deepened—“there are others who still think we’re just monsters who need to be put down. Those guys aren’t going to like all this attention and support you’re raising.”

“And I’m supposed to do—what?” Eve asked him, lifting her brows. “Cower somewhere because I might get some threats? I was nearly killed—over and over—in the last few days. I’m tough, detective. I can handle whatever comes my way.”

“Like you handled Subject Thirteen?”

She hadn’t seen that hit coming.

Roberts cocked his head to the side. “We found more files on him in that lab, you know. Wyatt believed that Thirteen had a sociopathic personality and that he was an extreme menace to the human population.”

“Yeah, well, Wyatt was also a lying sack of—”

The door opened. Another detective stood there. A balding guy with tired brown eyes. “She’s clear. Her lawyer just raised hell with the captain. Bradley gets to walk out now.”

Perfect.

Roberts swore. “You need protection.”

Eve leaned toward him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The other detective turned away.

Eve wasn’t about to let this drop. “You found something else at that lab, didn’t you?”

A muscle jerked in Roberts’s jaw and he gave a grim nod.

“Tell me.”

“It’s confidential. Can’t be leaked to the press and you—you’re the most famous reporter in the whole state right now.”

She stared back at him. “This might shock the hell out of you, Detective, but I’ve managed to keep some secrets in my time.” But if he didn’t want to tell her what had him so all-fired determined that she needed guards, fine.

Eve pushed away from the table and headed for the door.

“Like you kept the wolf’s secrets?”

Her breath burned in her lungs. Eve didn’t go out that door. She slammed it shut then spun to face the detective. “What do you know about him?”

“I saw Wyatt’s files on him.”

And? What? Was she going to have to pull the truth from the detective?

“Wyatt was working on a drug that would amp up a shifter’s physical strength.”

Yeah, Trace had sure looked like he’d been amped up. His muscles had bulged.

“Wyatt didn’t want shifters to transform into animals in order to get that power boost.” Roberts’s voice was low. “He wanted them to have that power, twenty-four seven.”

Eve waited.

Roberts jerked a hand through his hair. “When he first started working with the werewolves, Wyatt used a mix of adrenaline and a drug called Lycan-69, some brew he’d made. It was supposed to blend the animal and man within the shifter. To always make them one.”

She remembered the way Trace had looked. Not just a man. Bigger. Stronger. With claws and fangs. But he hadn’t been able to shift into the form of a wolf, not even when he attacked her and Cain.

Because he couldn’t change?

“He’d given that dose to two other werewolves, but according to Wyatt, those test subjects had to be terminated.”

Terminated. “Why?”

“Because their beasts took over. They lost the ability to reason as men. They had only one desire—to hunt and to kill.”

Wyatt had better be burning in hell. “And he gave that same dose to Trace?”

Roberts shook his head. “He was adjusting his formula. Experimenting. Your wolf got Lycan-70.”

So maybe the results wouldn’t be the same. Maybe—

“Wyatt’s report indicated that within five minutes of injection, your friend Trace killed three guards. He couldn’t speak. Only growl and snarl. There was no sign of humanity in him. He was just . . .” Robert’s voice trailed off.

A monster? A wolf in the body of a man.

She swallowed and hoped she kept the emotion from her face. “So that’s why they had his body ready to be burned.” Wyatt had been attempting to cover up his failed experiment.

The detective gave a slow nod as his gaze seemed to weigh her. Those deceptive eyes of his had to be seeing far too much. “There’s a drugged werewolf out there, Ms. Bradley. One who only wants to kill. You sure that you feel safe being out in the open with him?”

She bared her teeth at him in a brittle smile. “Trace isn’t coming for me. If he’s functioning only on animal instinct, the last thing he is gonna do is follow me all the way to the city and—”

“I know a lot about animal instinct,” Roberts drawled. “Far more than most.”

She just bet he did.

“You said that he saw you when he woke up in that furnace room, that he tracked you up the stairs and to Wyatt’s office.”

She didn’t like where this was going.

“His animal had your scent, ma’am. The guy probably doesn’t know what the hell is happening to him, but he has your scent.” Roberts’s hands dropped to his sides. “So trust me when I say, that wolf isn’t gonna be forgetting you. Wolves don’t forget scents.”

No, they didn’t. “Thank you for the warning, Detective.” She turned away again and reached for the door.

He swore behind her. “You’re still refusing protection, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Because if she was surrounded by cops and Trace should happen to come for her, they’d kill him.

Maybe I can save him.

She opened the door and walked away from the detective. She could hear noise outside the precinct. Sounded like a roar. But it wasn’t an animal, not this time.

Her lawyer sidled over to her. “You ready for this?”

Of course, Janice would know exactly what waited for her. “Always,” Eve lied.

Two officers opened the front door of the precinct, and, for the first time in two weeks, Eve got a taste of freedom.

That freedom included being met by a swarm of reporters. Their voices blended together, roaring in her ears.

He followed her when she left the police station. He watched as she talked to the reporters. As she answered their endless questions with a tired smile.