Home > Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(48)

Playing With Fire (Phoenix Fire #3)(48)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Maybe he had. “Stay here.”

Her jaw dropped. “Those are my friends out there! Hell, no, I’m not going to—”

He slammed the door. Locked it. Cassie would not be getting in the middle of his battle.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He heard the sound of her small fists pummeling the door. More thuds—was she kicking it, too? It sure sounded that way.

“We just had sex!” she cried. “You can’t do this to me! You can’t lock me in here!”

He could. He had. And the sex had been phenomenal.

“Let me out of here!”

“I will,” he promised. “Once the threat is gone.”

Dead silence. Then she said, “That’s why you came. Not to help me. You wanted me to lead you to the other phoenixes!”

His hand pressed against the door. “We’re a dangerous lot. Not to be trusted.”

“Yeah, tell me something I didn’t just figure out when you locked me in the closet!”

His hand dropped. “He would have turned on you. With your siren blood, it would have been only a short time before he realized what you were. I’m protecting you.” Dante spun away from the closet.

It had been so long since he’d battled another phoenix. He didn’t know how old Cain O’Connor was, but the guy couldn’t be as old as he was.

So Cain wouldn’t be as strong.

More pounding came from the closet. “Dante, no! Don’t do this! Cain and Eve are here to help! Dammit, don’t!”

Dante would do anything to keep her safe.

Killing had always been easy for him.

When he’d watched his brother die, he had sworn to never be fooled by another of his kind. Cassie wouldn’t understand just how deceptive a phoenix could be.

He knew.

“Dante!”

He left her.

The sound of his footsteps faded away. Cassie had her left ear flattened against the wood of the door and knew when he left her. Actually left her locked in the closet.

Damn him!

The only light she had spilled beneath the door, showing her pretty much nothing. She spun around, fumbling in the darkness as her heart raced. She didn’t have much time. Dante was going after Cain, and she would not let Cain die.

He used me.

She’d thought—so foolishly—that Dante had wanted to help her, but all along, she’d just been a means to an end for him.

A siren? Total BS. Another line he’d spewed so that she’d trust him.

The absolute worst part was that she could still feel the jerk inside her. Her sex was flushed and sensitive—from him.

And he’d just locked my ass in a supply closet.

She’d gone from having an absolutely mind-numbing orgasm one minute to being shoved into a dirty supply closet. Dante’s after-sex technique sucked on so many levels.

Her fingers closed around the wooden pole of a mop. She tried ramming it into the door.

The thuds were louder than they’d been when she’d used her fists, but the door didn’t open.

“Help!” Cassie screamed. This can’t be happening. I can’t actually be trapped like this.

Eve was her friend. Cain had been nothing but good to her.

And Dante . . .

The two phoenixes couldn’t battle. When they did, only one survived.

“Help!” Cassie screamed again.

She was very much afraid that no one was coming to her aid.

“Help!”

The cry reached Trace’s ears and his beast tensed. He knew he was more beast than man. He knew that his control was gone, and . . . some days, he almost wished for death.

Almost?

The cry pierced through the rage his beast carried, reaching the man inside. There was something about that voice. Something that spoke to the beast and the man.

Cassie.

Her image appeared in his mind. Her dark hair. Her soft hands. She’d never hurt him. Always promised to help. And when she whispered to him, things did seem better. The rage cooled within him.

But something was wrong.

He opened his mouth and howled.

Cassie shouldn’t be crying for help. Cassie couldn’t be hurt. She was his last hope.

He howled again and jerked at the chains that bound him. The silver burned, cutting deep into him, but he didn’t care.

Help her.

The beast snarled and his muscles burned. He pulled and pulled . . . and the chains began to snap.

Dante wasn’t going to bring the battle down to Cassie. She would be safe in the little underground lair that she’d made for herself.

Silently, he rode the elevator up to the ground level. The other phoenix would not know that he was coming. His guard would be lowered.

The better for me to attack.

Cassie had been calling for help when he’d left her. Her cries had twisted his guts, but he hadn’t stopped. He remembered, too well, what it was like when another phoenix came for you.

Brother . . . why? I meant you no harm.

But his brother had just laughed. As long as you live, you’re a threat. Didn’t you learn anything from the others?

Once, there had been a dozen phoenixes in their village. They’d been the power . . . until they turned on one another.

The fire led to bloodlust. Fury. The need to dominate and control.

For days, their village had been turned black with ash.

Others—humans down the mountainside—had started to spread rumors of dragons attacking.

There had been no dragons.

Dante stared down at his hands. Saw fire.

Only us.

He hadn’t wanted to kill his brother. Wren had given him no choice. Dante had been burning. Wren and his siren had come at him as he rose, come for his head and his heart.

They’d almost taken his head.

But his phoenix hadn’t been ready for death.

The phoenix who stands last is the only one with power. Wren’s panting words to him. I will stand last. I will have the power. You, brother, will have hell.

Dante squared his shoulders. The elevator doors opened. Cain had his back to him—such a mistake. He saw the man’s dark hair, a shade very similar to Dante’s own.

Cain spun toward him.

His eyes widened. “You’re not—where’s Cassie?” He grabbed the woman with him and shoved her behind his back.

Dante’s nostrils flared. The woman’s scent . . . speaking of dragons. He hadn’t caught that particular scent in centuries. Those two were even more of a threat than he’d first thought.

Dante stepped forward. The elevator closed behind him. His gaze slid to the woman as she peered over her man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Dante told her. “I didn’t want to kill you.” He shook his head. “Leave now, and I will spare you.” Even though he knew what she was.

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