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Once Bitten, Twice Burned(9)

By:Cynthia Eden


“Dying,” he said, as if it were obvious. “How did it feel when Ryder killed you?”

Her heart seemed to stop. “You’re crazy.” She wasn’t dead. She was talking to him. Living. Breathing.

And Ryder hadn’t killed her. He’d been there to help her. He’d tried to calm her down so the fire wouldn’t rage out of control. He’d done his best to protect her from the guards.

The man’s lips tightened. “You’ll tell me soon enough. This was just the first of our experiments.” He pulled the needle from her arm. Nodded to someone that she couldn’t see. “You’ll beg to tell me.”

She wasn’t begging him for anything.

“Just as you begged Ryder to let you live. But he didn’t, did he? He just took your blood and left you to die.”

The fury had drained from her. Only fear remained. “Why are you doing this?”

He reached out to touch her face, but hesitated. Don’t want to get burned, do you?

But Ryder hadn’t gotten burned when he touched her. He’d held her, kissed her. He hadn’t been afraid of her fire.

“You can help to change the world.”

“Let me go.”

“You can save lives. Make miracles. And really, is death too much to ask from you?”

He turned away before she could tell the crazy bastard that, yeah, death was too much to ask.

“It’s not like you won’t just come back when you die.”

His words were tossed back at her. She couldn’t see him anymore. The straps pressed her against the table and the drugs held her still.

“You’re weaker than the other one,” he said. “That isn’t a bad thing, don’t worry. I know how to make you stronger. All you need are a few more deaths.”

In. Sane.

“We’ll start soon, don’t worry. But I need to check on the vampire. See what your blood has done to him.”

Ryder had drunk from her? The bastard in the lab coat had said . . . Did he kill me?

No, that was crazy. She wasn’t dead.

Or was she?

Because this place, with its stark white ceiling, with the men who shot at her, and with the vampire who killed in front of her . . . this place sure seemed like hell.



They dragged out the bodies while he was still weak. They moved fast because they were smart. Even as the last body was hauled out of his cell, Ryder was already pushing to his feet as his body fought the poison in his veins.

The SP tranq. How he hated that bitch. Damn Wyatt for every creating the drug that could knock even the most powerful of supernaturals on their asses. The SP tranq was tailored for Ryder and his brethren, guaranteed to temporarily immobilize even the strongest monsters out there.

And it was only the supernaturals that Wyatt cared about. This lab, the cells, they were all designed to hold supernatural beings so that Wyatt could experiment on them.

Ryder now knew exactly why Sabine had been brought to his cell. Wyatt had wanted to gauge Ryder’s reaction to her, and Sabine—well, she was just another one of Wyatt’s experiments. A victim, one who didn’t even seem to realize just what she’d been.

Not until she’d died.

Sabine Acadia.

After drinking Sabine’s blood, the guards’ blood had tasted like stale bread in his mouth. She’d been life. Warmth. Spice and wine.

He stalked toward the two-way mirror. Drove his fist into the surface. “Where is she?”

He’d promised Sabine that he’d find her. He would. He’d leave Genesis, but he’d be sure to take her with him.

Then they’d both burn this hellhole to the ground. Sabine would be so good at that burning.

“I know you’re there,” he snarled at his reflection, and he did know that Wyatt was watching him. Ryder had tried to play it cool and not let the scientist realize just how enhanced his senses truly were, but screw that ruse.

He could smell the bastard in that other room.

“Where’d you take her?” His fist pounded into the mirror once more.

The intercom crackled. “Why do you care, vampire?”

He knew the question came because he wasn’t supposed to care about anyone or anything. As a rule, he didn’t care—that was the reason Wyatt hadn’t been able to break him.

Don’t. Care.

“You know what Sabine is, don’t you?” Wyatt asked him.

Yes, he knew. She shouldn’t have existed. She should have only been a myth.

But vampires were supposed to just be myths, too. And here the fuck I am. “I know you’re playing with fire. So when your ass gets burned, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

Silence. The kind that said he’d pissed off Wyatt. That was the kind of silence he liked, but then Wyatt said, “That was her first death. Her first rising. I don’t believe Sabine had any idea just what she was.”