She nodded. A ghost of a smile lifted her lips as she reached for her door handle. “Right, then I’ll—”
Cain caught her hand. “You’ll stay behind me.” The guy was a Ranger, trained to kill in more ways than most humans could count. Tyler wasn’t getting close to Eve. “If he’s here, then I’ll be the one to face him.”
“And I’ll—”
“Stand back and not get hurt.”
She stared at him.
“The price of being human,” he murmured.
Her eyes narrowed. “We both know I’m not.”
“We don’t know what you are.” It was eating him up inside, wondering if she was like him.
Eve glanced back at the house. Cain had parked a little ways down the street, but they had a perfect view of 2808 Branchline. “If he’s not home, we’ll search his house,” she said. “We might be able to find intel that we can use.”
The searching part she could handle. He’d do the attacking.
They climbed from the vehicle. Instead of keeping to the shadows of the trees, Cain headed for the guy’s front door.
Eve grabbed his arm. “Uh, have you heard of the subtle approach?”
“I’m more familiar with the ass-kicking approach.” No neighbors were around. Probably all at work. Good. Cain slammed his fist into the door. Heard no sound from inside.
“Here,” he told her, backing up a bit, “I’ll try your routine.”
“Cain, wait—”
His foot drove into the door. His kick was far more effective than hers had been at Death Ink. The wood splintered, and the door flew open.
The human didn’t rush out to attack, but Cain heard a faint groan from inside the house.
He entered the small foyer, then spun to the left and rushed toward that sound. With every step, the scent of blood filled his nose.
Dammit.
He ran into the kitchen and found a human male on the floor, soaked in blood. The man’s hands were spread out beside him, palms up, and the dark tattoo stared back up at Cain.
“I guess someone else wanted him dead, too,” Cain said quietly.
Eve pushed past him and fell to her knees. She put her hands on the man, one hand on his chest, one hand on his neck. “He’s not dead yet.”
With that much blood, he would be. Soon.
Eve grabbed a towel off the counter and shoved it against Damon’s wounds. “He’s been shot, looks like two times.” She leaned over the man. “Damon! Open your eyes. Look at me!”
Cain could already smell death coming. She had to smell it, too. He backed up, prowling around the house. Making sure the shooter wasn’t still close by.
“Missed his heart . . .” Eve’s voice floated toward Cain as she muttered. “Bullet’s still in. Has to get out . . . Cain, call an ambulance!”
He was supposed to help the bastard who’d watched her burn?
Slowly, Cain made his way back to the kitchen. Blood was on Eve’s hands. What the hell had she been doing? Why was she doing it?
“Damon, Damon, look at me!”
The man’s eyes flickered, then opened.
“You’re gonna be okay . . .”
Why was she lying to him? Cain frowned. Death was there, hovering so close.
“Who did this to you?” Eve asked him.
The bleeding male’s lips curved. The guy was smiling. At death? Cain looked at the human with new interest.
“Can’t . . . trust . . . anyone . . .” Damon gasped. More blood came from his lips.
“Where’s Wyatt?” Eve demanded as she put pressure on his wounds. “Where is he?”
More blood. Grunts.
Eve glanced up at Cain. “Call the ambulance.”
Cain didn’t move. “Why? They’d never make it here in time.”
She stared at him in shock. “C-Cain?”
He didn’t move toward the phone. “He’s gonna be dead long before any help can arrive.”
Air wheezed from the man’s lips. His eyes were wide open, and he had to be feeling every second of pain as his blood pumped from his body.
Cain knew what those gunshot wounds felt like. He’d been killed that way a time or two.
Eve kept pushing on the wounds. “Call help.”
Cain shrugged and bent toward the man. “Guessing your own team shot you, huh? Shot you, and left you to die . . .” He shook his head. “Why’d they do that? From what I can tell, you’re just a human. Not Wyatt’s usual paranormal target at all.”
“Am . . . human . . .” Damon rasped.
Cain studied the scene before him. Eve was checking the guy’s wounds, swearing, getting her fingers covered in blood. They’d have to talk about that, later. “So why’d they turn on you?” Cain asked him.
The man’s gaze, heavy, pain-filled, darted to Eve.
Cain’s hands knotted into fists. “You didn’t like what they did to her.” And he remembered . . . when he’d rushed in to save Eve, this man had been there, banging on the door of her holding room. Screaming.
Help her . . . There’s a woman in there—he’s f**king burning her alive . . .
His screams had done no good.
“That your first time to see the dirty work your boss does?” Cain wanted to know. “Got a little too up-close and personal, didn’t you?”
Damon tried to lift his head. Eve pushed him right back down. “I’m trying to keep you alive. So will you stop moving? ”
“I’m not trying,” Cain told the guy with a grim smile. “But if you tell me what I want to know, maybe I’ll help put you out of your misery.”
Eve gasped and jumped up. She grabbed for the phone. Cain moved at the same time. He wrapped his arms around her and snatched the phone away. Her eyes, shocked, wide, found his.
“Cain?”
He pushed her behind him and turned to stare back down at Damon. “That pool of blood is just getting deeper.”
Damon wasn’t trying to rise any longer.
“Your own men shot you. Wyatt betrayed you. What the hell kind of loyalty do you owe him?” Cain demanded.
“Please,” Eve’s soft voice. “Wyatt has other test subjects, Damon. He’s going to hurt them, the way he tried to hurt me. We just want to save them.”
She wanted to save people. Cain wanted to kill. Why couldn’t they both get what they wanted?
We can.
“Where is he?” Eve asked the human, her voice so light and gentle. “Don’t die without helping those others. Tell us, please.”