Actually, he didn’t think the bastard could kill her.
“But I will,” Jon told her quietly. “I will slice your throat open right here, right now, and I’ll let you bleed out before your phoenix can get here.”
Cassie stared up at him, and Jon knew she saw the truth in his eyes.
“Shaw already has your samples. I don’t need you alive.”
Cassie swallowed. Her gaze cut toward the blond doctor.
There was a soft click of sound. Jon looked over and saw that Dr. Shaw had a gun pointed at Cassie’s head. Well, well, the doctor kept surprising him.
“I’m not dying for someone I don’t even know,” Dr. Shaw said, but the gun trembled in her hand. “So let’s all just get out of here and get on that helicopter.”
Cassie rose, but her knees buckled, and she hit the floor once more.
Ah, so she wasn’t as strong as she wanted him to think. Jon caught her arms and lifted her toward him.
Her scent rose, filling his nose, and for an instant, he stilled. That scent . . . he’d always enjoyed her scent.
His eyes narrowed on her. “Do you want me to kill you right now?”
Cassie shook her head.
“Then do the f**k what you’re told. Don’t fight me, don’t cry out, and I’ll let you live.” He scooped her into his arms because he didn’t want her slowing him down. “Come on, Shaw,” he barked to the other woman. Power and strength had flooded through him with that injection. He barely felt Cassie’s weight. His steps were surer, faster, and he lifted his foot and kicked open the door that blocked him from the helipad.
The blackness of the night waited for him. The chopper . . . was less than fifty yards away.
Dante heard the helicopter’s blades spinning. His head snapped up as that steady beat slipped past the blare of the alarm.
Cassie had been taken from him on that helicopter before.
He wouldn’t let her go again.
He ran through the hallways, following the sound. No one tried to stop him. They turned and cowered when they saw him.
He didn’t care about them.
Only her.
Outside once more, he raced toward the helicopter. Its lights cut across the clearing, flashing on him, then sweeping away.
The helicopter began to rise.
No. No, it can’t leave.
He’d have to track her again, and Cassie was already hurt. The scent of her blood . . .
“No!” Dante yelled, and his flames flew out, hitting the whirling blades of the helicopter. Burning, the blades were spinning slower and slower. The chopper slammed back down to earth with a jarring crash.
He jumped toward it and ripped open the door. Saw Cassie slumped and strapped down in the backseat. Another woman was there—a woman with a gun that she lifted toward him. Her face was cloaked in the shadows.
He snatched the gun from her. Tossed it behind him and yanked Cassie out of the seat. Her eyes were closed. Her body was limp.
The chopper had fallen only ten feet—surely that wouldn’t have been enough to . . . to . . .
“Cassie?” He put her down on the ground. Ran his hands over her, checking for injuries. And there were injuries. Cuts and scratches all over her. “Cassie. Cassie, open your eyes.”
The beast that lived inside of him was clawing to be free. He could taste the ash rising on his tongue. The only thing holding that beast in check was Cassie.
Come back to me.
She’d been the only thing to ever hold him in check.
She’d been eight the first time she came to him. A little girl, big green eyes, trembling voice. I don’t want him to kill anyone else.
She’d tried to save Dante then.
He’d died.
She wouldn’t die now. He wouldn’t let her.
Her eyelashes flickered.
Yes. “Cassie?”
Her breath whispered out and her eyes opened. “Knew . . . you were coming . . .”
Hell, yes. He pulled her against his chest. Held her tight right next to his racing heart.
Over her shoulder, Dante saw the blond female stumble out of the helicopter. She fell onto her knees, but pushed forward, all but crawling away.
The man who’d been piloting that helicopter shoved from the wreckage. He didn’t try to crawl away. He stood there, glaring at Dante. “Do you remember me, bastard?” The man snarled.
Dante didn’t let go of Cassie.
“I’m the one who took her from you. This time . . . all the times. I’m the one she was going to marry.”
What the f**k?
“You think she’s yours. You’re wrong. She’s been working you from the beginning. It’s all part of an experiment. Every single moment.” The man smiled and lifted his hands. “But you can’t see her for what she is, can you? Because she’s got you fooled.”
“No . . . Dante . . .” Cassie whispered.
“Her injuries are from samples that she ordered us to take. She wanted to see how her body had changed since you were dumb enough to give up your tears to her in New Orleans.”
Dante rose, making sure to put his body between Cassie’s and—“What is your name?”
“Lieutenant Colonel Jon Abrams.”
“You’re a dead man, Lieutenant Colonel.”
The man laughed. “You’re already a wanted criminal. Thanks to me, your face is on every TV in the nation. You think you can walk away from here? Cassie won’t go with you. She lured you here. Wanted to keep doing the tests on you.”
“Dante, I didn’t.” Cassie said, her voice growing stronger.
It sounded like she was backing away from him. He heard the rustle of her footsteps and realized that she was retreating.
Leaving him to face off against the other man.
“Do you know why she wants to study you so much?” Jon took a step toward him. “Because her lover is sick. Not sick so much as transforming. If she can’t help her werewolf, she’ll lose him, and Cassie doesn’t want to lose Trace.”
Trace. The name was familiar . . . Wait. The cabin and the warehouse—both had been owned by a man named Trace. Wasn’t that what Cassie had told him?
“Cassie uses anyone she can, in order to get what she wants. She used you. She used me. She’s not the damsel in distress that you seem to think.”
The helicopter was burning behind Jon. The flames rose into the air, and Dante saw that men with weapons were spilling out of the ranch. Oh, so now they thought they were brave enough to fight?
Or were they just eager to die?
“Dante . . .” Cassie’s voice called out quietly. “Get away from him.”