Once Bitten, Twice Burned (Phoenix Fire 2)

Sabine’s fingers were fumbling with the stake. Attempting to wrench it out of her. But . . . her fingers felt numb. Uncoordinated. She couldn’t seem to grab hold of the wood. And she was falling, slumping, hitting the hard floor.

She tried to keep her eyes open. They wanted to sag. She wanted to sleep.

No, not sleep.

Die.

“Sabine?”

Ryder was there. Crouching over her. Ignoring the threat right behind him. Didn’t he see Malcolm? He couldn’t turn his back on that bastard. Malcolm was evil. Twisted.

Unstoppable?

“You’re going to be all right,” Ryder said.

She hadn’t realized he was such a liar.

He pulled out the stake. The fast removal hurt, and she moaned.

And more blood gushed from her.

Ryder put his bleeding wrist over her mouth. Tried to give her his blood.

But she couldn’t take it. She was too cold. Her body . . . She couldn’t even drink.

It was just like before. Her body had shut down, and she was trapped, screaming on the inside but making no sound for anyone else to hear.

Just like before . . . the first time she’d met Ryder. She’d lost her blood and been so cold, just like this.

Malcolm drove his claws into Ryder’s back. Ryder didn’t let her go. He had to let her go. He had to fight his brother.

Ryder’s blood rained down on her.

No.

He wasn’t fighting back. Malcolm was slicing Ryder’s back, ripping into his flesh, but Ryder was just holding her tight. Whispering, over and over, “Don’t leave me, Sabine, don’t ever leave me.”

But she was already leaving. She knew what death felt like. Knew its cold touch so very, very well. Almost as well as she knew her lover’s touch.

Her breath had stilled in her lungs. Her heart had stopped beating. Maybe it had stopped the instant the stake plunged into her . . . or the instant it was pulled out.

She couldn’t move her body. Couldn’t speak and say the one thing that she needed to say. I love you.

But perhaps she didn’t need to say the words. Perhaps Ryder already knew. Because in that last glimpse she had of him, Sabine saw his eyes. His gaze was filled with fear, yes, but also filled with love.

He loved her.

She hoped, hoped, that he knew . . . I love you, too.

Then the cold deepened. Such terrible cold.

She was leaving him.

Leaving . . .

Why did the cold burn?

Sabine was gone.

Ryder held her tight, ignoring the pain as Malcolm sliced the flesh from his back.

“Fight me!” Malcolm roared.

Ryder held on to Sabine. Her blood soaked him. She’d been gone, even before he’d pulled the stake from her chest. Her eyes had already been empty. The fierce passion that was Sabine . . . gone.

Another slash over his back, then Malcolm’s claws drove straight into Ryder’s spine. “Fight me.”

Ryder didn’t feel the pain from the attack. He was already in enough agony. Lost her. The only thing, the only person that I needed . . . Lost. Her.

His heart was gone. He’d tried to hold on to his humanity. Fought for it.

But . . .

Gone.

There wasn’t anything left within him. Just a roar of rage that was building. Hollow. Cold.

Sabine had never been cold. She’d been fire. She’d been life.

Carefully, gently, he released Sabine. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

Malcolm was laughing.

“Did you love her so desperately, brother? Is that why you made her into a vampire? Did you think she’d be with you forever?”

She will be. He’d never love anyone but her. In his heart, Sabine would always be there.

His gaze lifted. The human, Keith, was near the cage. His eyes were anguished as he looked back at Sabine’s body. In shock, he stood frozen.

And the other phoenix was on the ground. Ryder had broken his neck. The flames were flickering around him, and Ryder knew Dante would rise soon.

But until then . . .

I have plenty of time.

His hands trembled as he closed Sabine’s eyes. He didn’t want her to see what he’d do.

She’s not there to see . . . The whisper slid through him, but he ignored it. He could feel his mind splintering.

Without her . . .

Why?

His spine should have been severed by his brother’s claws, but Ryder rose to his feet. He’d found that he healed faster and faster these days.

Because of Sabine? Because of her blood? Her tears?

She’d done nothing but make him stronger.

He’d be nothing without her.

“I love her.” Love, not loved. Because his feelings weren’t just going to magically stop.

Malcolm’s lips parted in surprise. “You—”

Ryder drove his fist into his brother’s jaw. Sent him sprawling back to the floor. “Have you ever loved?” Ryder demanded.

Malcolm scrambled back.

“I hadn’t . . . not until her.” He grabbed Malcolm. Yanked him to his feet. This time, Ryder drove his fist into his brother’s stomach. “She made me stronger.”

Malcolm was spitting up blood.

“Do you think I’ve never wanted to close my eyes? To end this nightmare?” Ryder snarled at him.

The roar within him built.

Splinter . . .

“I’ve tried . . . my body heals . . . heals so fast, even faster now . . .” He slammed his head into Malcolm’s, breaking his brother’s nose. “You think you’re the only one who has ever felt insects crawling on you? Eating you? I went to ground in the fourteen hundreds, so tired of the slaughters committed by men and vampires alike. You were gone. And I hated what I’d become.” He’d ordered his own entombment. He’d finally clawed his way out of that imprisonment after a year. “But we can’t change what we are.”

Malcolm watched him with wide eyes.

We can’t change.

Ryder glanced over at Sabine. “I wanted to change for her.”

Sabine . . . his Sabine . . . she was . . .

Burning?

The scent of ash and fire hadn’t come from Dante. Dante was still lying on the floor, not moving. But Sabine was burning.

We can’t change.

Her eyes had still flickered with flames when she made love with him. When she’d touched the vamp’s chest back at Bran’s Castle, he’d seen smoke drift in the air.

He’d tried to convert Sabine, but the phoenix part of her hadn’t died, not completely. Maybe it could truly never die.

And the phoenix was rising again.

“What the hell . . . ?” Malcolm’s shocked voice cried out.