But Vance wasn’t dead. He’d rolled and put out the flames on his chest. His flesh was blistered, charred, and the snake tattoo had sure gotten scorched. The flames scattered around him, licking at the floor and at the edges of the cage.

Cain stood in the middle of that chaos. His hands were at his sides and his gaze was on Vance.

She grabbed for the cage door.

“Oh no, sweet thing,” a hard voice told her.

And just that fast, Eve found herself in a grip that hurt. A man held her arms. A big, burly guy with lots of piercings and slicked-back red hair. “I want to see how this one ends. Got me two grand riding on the snake.”

She twisted and kicked, but the guy didn’t let her go. Crap. “You’re . . . gonna lose that money . . .” Eve gasped out as she fought to break free.

If he didn’t let her go and get out of there before those flames got much higher, he might just wind up losing his life, too.

Jimmy lifted his hands. “D-don’t kill me!”

The first blast hadn’t been meant to kill. Only to hurt. To show the snake just what it felt like to be tortured.

“Weeks,” Cain snapped out as he stalked his prey. Smoke rose in the air, heavy and thick, and Jimmy started to cough. “For weeks, they kept me chained up. They cut into me. Sliced me apart. Drugged me.”

Jimmy’s back was pressed against the side of the cage. The guy actually whimpered.

This was the tough SOB that the crowd had cheered for? The guy looked like he was about to piss his pants.

Some paranormals liked to give pain, but they just couldn’t take it.

Some . . . like soon-to-be-dead Jimmy.

“How much?” Cain demanded, a foot away from Jimmy. One more touch, and he’d incinerate the guy. Just one. “How much was my life worth to you?”

Jimmy’s gaze darted to the left. To the right. And—wait, did a faint smile curve his thin lips?

Cain tensed. Jimmy shouldn’t be smiling. Begging, yes. Smiling, no.

Jimmy’s shoulders straightened and his chin shoved out. “You were worth more than the others. Twenty thousand”—Jimmy paused—“then.” His small smile widened to show his curving fangs. “The price is double now.”

The price is double now. Cain’s body stiffened

“It’s a two-for-one deal this time,” Jimmy said, voice strengthening. Definitely turning into a cocky bastard once more. “Genesis doesn’t just want you—they want the pretty girl you escaped with. The same girl who’s fighting to get in this cage. To get to you.”

Cain’s head whipped to the right. Eve was fighting some giant jerk, twisting and punching in his hands and he was—

The bastard hit her back.

Cain roared his fury.

Then he heard the thunder of. . . gunshots.

“Dumbass, I figured you’d show tonight. I knew you’d want my blood.” Jimmy scrambled back against the cage wall. “But guess what? They want yours, too. And you’re not escapin’ tonight. Wyatt’s getting you and you won’t ever escape again.”

The thunder of more bullets. Exploding. Firing.

Cain leaped to the side as those bullets tore through the cage.

He’d hit her so hard that her head snapped back. Everything went dim for a moment and then Eve could have sworn she heard fireworks popping.

“Sonofabitch.”

A familiar snarl. Trace. Hadn’t she told him to leave? Twice? She dug her nails into the giant’s arms and got ready to head butt him.

But the giant dropped her. Mostly because Trace had just clawed the guy’s side open.

“You should”—Trace snarled as he sliced again—“treat women with more respect.”

The giant scrambled back, tripped in his own blood, and—

And a bullet tore into the guy’s head.

Eve screamed. That hadn’t been fireworks. That sound had been the thunder of bullets. Her gaze flew around the area. Armed men were storming in. Men who wore all black and were covered with heavy, bulletproof vests. Men who were shooting at the paranormals. Taking them out with cold precision.

“Time to go,” Trace said, voice flat.

“Not without Cain! I—”

A barrage of bullets slammed into the cage.

“No!”

The bullets didn’t hit Cain. They thudded into a smiling Vance . . . who stopped smiling once his blood splattered around him. When he hit the floor, his face had locked in lines of stunned horror.

Cain . . . wasn’t in the cage. The left side of the cage hung open. He’d burned his way out.




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