She shook her head.
He heard the squeak of a door opening behind her. Footsteps came toward him, and he smelled smoke.
Vaughn glanced to the left and saw the same SOB who’d shoved a stake into him. He hadn’t seen the man’s face until he fell into the dirt—and nearly died.
“Cassie cured you,” the man said.
What is his name? Jon—and he is a lieutenant colonel.
“He’s still a vampire,” the blonde said quickly. Her wound was completely wrapped now. “Just not primal.”
The SOB came closer. “How’d she do it?” he demanded of Vaughn.
“Hell if I know.” That was true. All he remembered was the hunger and . . .
Fuck, did I bite a kid?
He thought that he might have, and shame burned through him. Vaughn never wanted to be like that again.
Death would be better than being primal.
Jon’s blue eyes locked on his. “We’re going to cut you up and find out. I’ll let Shaw slice you open, and then she can piece you back together.”
Isn’t he a cold-blooded prick?
Vaughn glared at him.
“Or maybe I’ll let her take an . . . easier approach,” Jon said with a chilling smile. “You help me, and I don’t torture you as much.”
Was Vaughn supposed to believe anything the guy who’d staked him said?
Jon stepped ever closer. His face had been burned so badly. But he acted like he didn’t feel the pain as he demanded, “Where would Cassie go? She ran from her lab. Where did she run to?”
“No clue,” Vaughn muttered. He wasn’t telling this guy anything.
Jon shook his head and sighed. “That’s the wrong answer.” He glanced at the woman. “Shaw, cut open his chest.”
Shaw didn’t move.
Neither did Vaughn.
“Shaw!” Jon snapped.
“He’s a cured primal,” she whispered with a nervous glance at Vaughn. “Don’t you see what Cassie has done? We need him alive. We have to replicate—”
“Do I look like I give a shit about curing the primals?” Jon snarled. “I can kill them all with a thought.”
Vaughn’s gaze swept over the man’s face. “Those look like some pretty bad burns.” On his face and his arms.
Jon stiffened.
Vaughn smiled. “Someone pissed off a phoenix, huh?” He knew about the phoenixes. Down in New Orleans, his best friend had a phoenix for a sister.
Sabine. He hadn’t seen her in so long, not since she’d come to town with her vampire lover and—
“Ahh!” Vaughn cried out.
Jon had just shoved his burning hand onto Vaughn’s chest.
“I’m the phoenix,” Jon shouted at him, spittle flying from his mouth. “And if you say one more thing to piss me off, you’ll just be the latest vampire that I burned to ash.”
Vaughn’s flesh began to melt away. He clenched his teeth and refused to cry out again.
“Please!” Shaw said, voice breaking. “He’s the cure.”
Jon let his hand linger. Let the fire burn deeper, scorching muscles.
“Let him go,” Shaw cried.
With a grim smile, Jon lifted his hand. “He doesn’t have to stay alive. Cassie’s the cure. Cassie can replicate it. Cassie and that f**king fantastic mind of hers. I just need Cassie.” There was something in his voice—a desperation that pushed the edge of sanity.
Right, like that dude was sane. The pyro looked like he’d lost touch with sanity long ago.
Just like I had.
“Where did she go?” Jon demanded.
“I know where you can go,” Vaughn yelled right back.
Jon’s jaw clenched. “Let’s see just how much pain he can handle.”
Shaw was so pale. Pale and shaking, but she lifted her scalpel and came toward Vaughn.
“Lady, don’t! That’s the last damn thing you want to be doin’,” he bit out, trying to reach her.
But she raised the scalpel.
Jon’s hand flew out and wrapped around her wrist. She gasped, and Vaughn knew she’d just gotten burned.
“Did I just hear . . .” Jon asked, smiling, “the South in your voice?” That smile stretched as his gaze settled on Vaughn’s face. “If I’m not wrong, that’s . . . New Orleans.”
Fuck.
“I’ve always been good with voices, and that was just a little bit of Creole there.” He dropped the woman’s hand. “I know who you are, vampire.”
Good for you.
“Vaughn Adams. Your father Keith contacted me a while back about a female phoenix he wanted to cure.” Jon shook his head. “Everyone is always so stuck on cures.”
Sabine. Vaughn tried to keep his expression blank but his whole body went on high alert.
“You father knew the little phoenix well, just like you did.”
Vaughn didn’t like the way the guy’s eyes had lit up.
“I need her,” Jon gritted.
“And I need the hell off this table!” Vaughn cried.
“Cassie went to her, didn’t she? New Orleans is close. She has friends there, probably a safe house. She ran there.”
Vaughn hoped that she hadn’t. But he suspected—yes.
Jon’s gaze bored into his. “You are going to help me draw her out.”
“No, no, I’m—”
“Or I’ll kill your father. I’ll kill your mother. Your aunts, uncles. Every one.”
Shaw dropped the scalpel and scurried back.
“But . . .” Jon lifted a brow. “You help me find Cassie and that female phoenix, and I’ll let you go.”
Did Vaughn look like a dumbass? The guy was not going to let him get away.
“Your choice,” Jon said. “You help me, or you burn.”
It was going to hurt, so Vaughn braced himself. “Bring on the fire, bastard.”
And he did.
Cassie paced the length of the den, her hands nervously fisted at her sides. They still had an hour until midnight. Would the others be at the rendezvous point?
If they weren’t, she had no idea how to find them.
“Are you sure that you can trust Keith Adams?” Dante asked her.
She jumped at the rumble of his voice. She’d thought that he was still in the kitchen. Cassie turned and saw that he was leaning up against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on her.
“I think so, yes.” She gave a nod, just to try and emphasize that point. She sure hoped she could trust the man. At this stage, it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. She’d told Dante a bit about Vaughn earlier and thought to tell him more. “Once he found out what Genesis was really doing, Keith wanted to help the paranormals. He . . .”