Once Bitten, Twice Burned(40)

“We know our director will be targeted for assassination.” The woman’s fingertips had whitened around her clipboard.

Their director? Ah yes, must be that dick, Wyatt. He’d come to see her a few times. Come to gauge the success of his precious “research.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed on Sabine. “We want you to stop his attacker.”

Seriously? The bitch was crazy. Sabine wasn’t going to stop him. She’d applaud the guy. Give him a freaking standing ovation.

As the silence stretched, the redhead finally seemed to realize that fact.

Uh, hello? I’m the captive that you’ve been torturing and killing for days. Why, oh why, would I ever help you?

“You remembered this time, didn’t you?” the woman asked as she eased back a step. “Wyatt said that could happen. That sometimes you’d rise with your memory there. It just hadn’t happened before, so I thought . . .” Her voice trailed away.

Sabine just kept staring at her.

The woman cleared her throat. “Actually, that might make things easier,” the redhead murmured, but she still made a point of getting closer to the guards. The woman slanted a quick glance at the guard on her right. “We still have the tail on her brother, right?”

My brother. Sabine fought to control her expression. They were looking for a weakness. She wouldn’t give Genesis one.

But the crazy bitch was still talking. “Make sure our watcher knows that if Sabine doesn’t complete this task, a bullet should be put in Rhett’s head.”

Fire burned in her gut. Heating and churning and boiling as fury and fear clawed at her.

“Now that got your attention, didn’t it?” the woman said, sounding satisfied. “I saw the flash of fire in your eyes.”

“I’ll give you a flash of fire,” Sabine promised, knotting her hands into fists.

The woman jumped back a good two feet. Her shoulders brushed the cell door. The guards lifted their weapons.

Sabine had been playing with fire lately. Conjuring it from nothing. Letting balls of flame roll in her hands. The practice helped to pass the time.

Now, deliberately, she let the fire rise from her palm. The ball hovered over her hand. “Look what little trick I learned.”

Though they already knew this. They’d been watching her through their cameras and their two-way mirrors.

“Do you want your brother to die?”

Sabine forced a shrug. “Maybe he’ll just come back.” She even managed a smile. “Like me.”

One perfectly arched red eyebrow rose. “Since you were adopted and he isn’t your blood brother, I find that highly doubtful.” She gave Sabine a wide smile. “But let’s go see.” She turned to face the door.

“No!” The word broke from Sabine, and the redhead looked back, all Cheshire-cat satisfied.

Damn her. “Why are you doing this?” Sabine demanded. “I’m a person. I have rights!”

“You’re a weapon. And you’re about to be used.”

Very, very cold bitch.

“Your target is a man named Cain O’Connor. He’ll most likely be with a woman—Eve Bradley.” The redhead held up her clipboard. There was a manila file on that board. The lady pulled it free, then tossed the file near Sabine’s feet. “You can find their pictures in here. Look at them. Memorize them, then go and find those two.”

Sabine didn’t look down at the file. “And if I do, you’ll let my brother go?”

The redhead nodded.

Sabine heard the shrill cry of an alarm. The woman was right—it sounded like the second Genesis facility had been breached.

“Kill O’Connor. Leave the woman alive.”

Sabine rolled her shoulders. “Then you leave me and my family alone?” Not that Sabine could trust her but . . .

“I give you my word.”

What choice did she have?

Sabine let her fire die. Wisps of smoke floated above her hand. Slowly, she walked toward the woman. “Who are you?” she asked. The redhead with the upper-crust New York accent, one that spoke of old money, had never told Sabine her name.

“Doesn’t matter.” The redhead licked her lips. Her body had tensed at the alarm’s cry.

To Sabine, the woman’s identity mattered very much. A scientist, a doctor, a sadistic torturer. She was going to track this woman.

Sabine stared at her a moment longer, then she bent to pick up the file. She opened it, and her gaze fell to the photos inside. The male—Cain O’Connor—had gold skin, dark eyes, and hair that was almost black. He stared back up at her with an undeniable fury.

Yes, she could relate to that particular rage.

The woman’s picture showed sparkling blue eyes. Smooth skin. Dark hair. She was wearing a lab coat, just like the one the redhead had on.