Once inside the building, Cain tapped his fingers against the wheel, waiting a moment until he was certain that the coast was clear. The occupants of the van had already cleared out before he parked. They sure hadn’t wasted any time. Cain eased out of the SUV. No other vehicles would be following him. He’d made sure of it. Disabling the others back at Blood Bath had been child’s play for him.
Find Eve. She was his priority. He studied the area around him. Where the hell would they take her in this place? It was too big. Hulking and—
“The bitch broke my nose.”
Cain turned at the angry snarl. The words had come from the left. From some whiny prick. Cain crept closer to the voice, making sure to keep to the shadows as much as possible. Once the other men got a good look at his face, they’d know he didn’t belong.
“She’ll pay. She’ll bleed.”
Cain could see the guy. Another idiot in black. This idiot had blood streaming down his face, and his nose was obviously broken.
The bloody one was talking to another one of Wyatt’s goons. The second man was smaller, with light red hair. “I think she’s gonna burn before she bleeds.” Laughter.
Burn before she bleeds.
Cain rushed toward them. “The hell she is.” He slammed their heads together, and before their bodies hit the floor, he was already racing down the hallway.
The temperature in the room was rising. Heat seemed to be coming from the vents in the floor.
Eve kicked at the door. It had sealed as soon as the guard cleared the threshold. There was no doorknob on her side. Nothing to grab and yank. Dammit.
She moved toward the glass window. The guard watched her. His brown gaze steady, intense. Determined.
Sweat coated her skin, and that slickness wasn’t just from heat . . . but from fear, too.
“We’re almost ready now, Eve” Wyatt’s voice drifted into the room over some kind of intercom. She’d noticed the speaker located above the door.
Eve swallowed back her fear. “Ready for what?” she demanded, trying not to let her fear show. The room was wired. She could hear him, he could hear her. But she couldn’t see him because the bastard was hanging back.
“I have to make sure you’re the one,” Wyatt said.
She slammed her palm against the glass. The glass didn’t so much as crack. “The one what?” She kept her eyes on the guard. Help me, she mouthed.
The guard didn’t move.
“The one who can kill him,” Wyatt told her.
There was a faint hum, then tapping. Strokes on a keyboard. She’d thought Wyatt would come in for an up-close view, but it looked like the guard was going to be the only one who saw her suffer in person.
Wyatt’s voice continued, droning on. “I have to be sure.”
She didn’t have any idea what the crazy psycho was talking about. “Kill who?”
“O’Connor, of course.” Irritation hummed in the words.
Kill Cain? Her heart shoved against her chest. “You killed him.” Another slam of her hand against the glass. Break. It was so damn hot in there. “You’ve killed him over and over.”
“But you can truly make him die.” Wyatt’s cool voice. The irritation was gone. He was back to sounding clinical again. “If you’re what I think, then, Eve, you alone will have the power to make certain that Cain can die—and never rise again.”
What I think . . . His words echoed in Eve’s head. What, not who. The guy wasn’t even seeing her as a person any longer.
The guard’s eyes were on her. Please. Help me.
A muscle jerked in his jaw. She could see the struggle on his face.
Maybe he wanted to help her, but the guy wasn’t moving.
She kept her own face desperate, afraid. Not hard to do because she was desperate and freaking terrified.
“We have to see how much heat you can handle.” Wyatt’s voice seemed emotionless, but she knew the truth. He was enjoying what he was doing. He’d enjoy her screams. “So we must get the fire to burn as hot as possible. Maximum temperature levels are necessary.”
“It’s necessary for you to kiss my ass!” Eve snarled. Her hands fisted, and she pounded them into the glass. Nothing. She hit the window again. Again.
Nothing.
“Help me!” Eve screamed at the guard.
His eyes were wide. Wide and—
Fire was rising from the floor. From every vent. Shooting toward her, burning so hot that her clothes melted, that the floor hurt her feet, that she screamed—
And was swallowed by the fire.
Another damn guard. The guy was yanking at some door, swearing, trying so hard to get inside the room that waited before him.
“Stop!” he screamed. He pulled out his gun. Shot at the glass window near him. “Fucking stop!”
Cain rushed the guard, swung him around and—
“Help her,” the guard said. His eyes were wild. “There’s a woman in there—Wyatt’s f**king burning her alive.”
A woman—Eve. Cain’s gaze rose to the window. He’d smelled the flames. They’d led him this way. The fire was raging inside that room, burning hot and bright. He couldn’t see her. Just the fire.
But she could handle the fire, couldn’t she? Eve could handle his heat.
The flames died away as he watched, seeming to vanish right back into the room’s floor.
And there was Eve. Naked, with her arms wrapped around her body. Shivering. Her gaze found his. Her mouth opened. She was screaming, but through that soundproofed wall, her words came to him as a whisper . . .
Cain, help me. Make it stop.
It was f**king stopping.
He tossed the guard away. Kicked open that damn door, knocking down half the surrounding wall.
Eve hadn’t moved. Her arms were still around her body, and she was shaking so much. He went toward her, seeing ash float in the room around them.
Cain reached out to her. She flinched.
“Eve?”
“He was watching,” she whispered. Her voice was hollow. “I couldn’t stop it. The fire was everywhere.”
The floor below them was heating up again. Shit. Cain snatched off his stolen shirt and put it over her. It hung low, falling past her knees. “Come on.” He couldn’t stand to see her look that way. So . . . broken.
She was shaking her head. “They wanted to lure you in. They wanted you to come . . .”
Cain’s fingers locked with hers. “Screw ’em and what they want. I’m getting you out of here.”