The fire snaked inside the room with them.
He caught Sabine’s chin. “We’re getting out of here.” Because the place was about to combust. “You stay with me, got it?” I’m not losing you again.
“Not without Rhett! I won’t go without—”
The streaking fire had nearly reached the boxes and bottles of alcohol.
Ryder pulled Sabine from the storage room. They leapt over flames, rushed over fallen tables. The exit door was in sight. Big, gaping—
“Help!”
And, yes, there was a human, yelling for help. Figured. Ryder tried to shove Sabine toward the exit.
She shoved back—and rushed right toward that screaming human. It was her brother. He was on the ground, trapped beneath what looked like a big chunk of the ceiling.
The ceiling was falling now? Talk about your bad days. Before she reached Rhett, the wood around her brother began to burn. He screamed in pain then, his face contorting as he burned.
Ryder grabbed for Sabine because he knew what she was going to do. But she moved too fast. She slipped away from him. Then she put her hands right on that burning wood and tossed it away from her brother.
Tossed it away without so much as a blister appearing on her skin.
Then she was reaching for her brother’s hand. Hauling him up. Holding him easily when the guy had to weigh over two hundred pounds.
Ryder helped another human—the redhead, Douglas—get toward the door. They all stumbled out in a rush of smoke and flames.
Humans were outside. Choking. Gasping. Staring with wide eyes and whispers as The Rift burned.
His gaze swept the crowd. This fire had started too suddenly. Erupted from nowhere. Burned and consumed.
One person in the crowd wasn’t staring at the inferno with shock and horror. One person wasn’t covered with ash.
A man stood with a slight grin tilting the corners of his mouth. His dark hair brushed over his shoulders and his eyes . . . they burned.
Another phoenix. One who’d followed her. One who’d just made a building burn down around her.
The bastard had a death wish.
The phoenix was turning away. Oh, the hell he was.
“Ryder!”
He realized that he’d already started after the guy. Sabine had grabbed his arm, holding him now. “You can’t,” she whispered.
Sure, he could.
“If he’s like . . .” She shook her head. “You can’t kill him, but he can kill you.”
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But either way, no one was going to send out an attack like that against Sabine.
“See you soon, love,” Ryder whispered, and he brushed a kiss against her cheek.
She blinked and her lips parted in surprise. “Ryder?” This time, he was the one to leave. He pushed through the crowd and didn’t flash his fangs. Not until he was away from the pack of humans.
Then his fangs flashed and he started hunting.
Following him was a mistake. Sabine knew she should have just gone with her brother. Gotten into the ambulance with him. Gone to the hospital. Tried to forget about her vampire lover and the crazy phoenix in town.
But there was no forgetting, and she wasn’t about to let Ryder head off on a suicide mission.
She made sure Rhett was all right. Minor burns, but he’d make it. The guy had suffered worse injuries on a casual Saturday night. Bar fights were bitches.
Then she raced after Ryder. As soon as she cleared the crowd, Sabine started to move fast. Too fast for a human’s eyes to follow. And she wasn’t even sure how the hell she did it.
Vamp speed.
Another reminder that her old life was very much over.
She rushed faster and faster, chasing after Ryder. She rounded a corner and—
The narrow stretch of road before her was empty. Dying azaleas wilted on the northwest corner, but there was no sign of Ryder.
She’d been so sure that he’d gone this way. So very certain.
“Lose someone?”
Not Ryder’s voice.
The phoenix.
And his voice was coming from behind her.
Slowly, Sabine turned to face him. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his body propped against the exterior brick wall of an abandoned house.
“You set the fire,” Sabine charged. Because she wasn’t an idiot. A phoenix was in town. The Rift had just burned.
He shrugged.
“My brother could have died.”
“Humans die every day.” The words weren’t even the least bit concerned. “It’s kind of their thing.” His eyes sharpened on her with . . . interest? Curiosity? “They aren’t like us.”
“I’m nothing like you.” She’d never started a fire for the hell of it. Just to watch the bitch burn.
Never had. Never would.
“Did you like the darkness?” he whispered and he didn’t look quite so relaxed then.
“What?” The only thing she’d like right then would be to hurt this jerk. If Rhett had died in that blaze . . .
“When you burned and you came back . . . and all you knew was the fire and fury, did you like the way you felt?”
The wind blew over her skin, but it wasn’t a cooling touch. In New Orleans, the breeze was humid and hot, like a scorch on her flesh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him, making sure to keep her eyes on his. She wouldn’t let this guy see that she was afraid.
But if his senses were as acute as she suspected, then he could probably tell that truth, anyway.
“Pity.” Now he seemed disappointed. Much less curious. “It’s been so long since I talked to another phoenix. I’d hoped you’d be . . . more.”
Sorry to disappoint you, jerk. “Is that why you tossed some fire my way? To see just how much more I could be?”
He didn’t answer, but he seemed to have stiffened. His gaze darted over her shoulder.
She wasn’t going to make the mistake of turning and following his gaze. The guy was probably just trying to trick her. “Who are you?” Sabine demanded.
“You can call me Dante.”
“Why . . . because you start your own inferno?” She tossed right back.
A faint smile lifted his lips as he advanced toward her. “Something like that.” His fingers brushed over her arm. “I do like the fire.”
In the next instant, Dante was yanked back and thrown to the ground. One very pissed-off vampire stood over him. “Don’t ever touch her again,” Ryder barked.
Her breath came too fast. Fear could do that to a girl. Make her body tight and edgy. Make her breath pant out. She’d wondered where Ryder went, and now she was sure glad he was back.
Sabine began to inch toward him.
Dante rose from the ground. “Vampire.”
Ryder flashed his fangs.
“Do you honestly think you’re a match for someone like me?” Dante taunted. The flames began to flicker in his eyes. “I could kill you in an instant.”
“Then why don’t you just go ahead and give it your best shot?” Ryder invited, taking a step forward.
And Dante did. He leapt forward, his hand full of flames, and he shoved those flames right at Ryder’s chest.
Sabine screamed.
The ambulance sped down the road, rushing fast as its sirens screamed.
“You’re gonna be all right, man,” Vaughn said as he leaned over Rhett. “The burns aren’t that bad at all.”
Yeah, but they still hurt like hell. Gritting his teeth, Rhett glanced up at his friend. “Where’s Sabine?”
Vaughn shook his head. “I don’t know. She was there with us one minute, gone the next.”
Son of a bitch. “I just got her back.” He tried to sit up. An EMT was swabbing some kind of gunk on his arms and hand. The EMT tried to push him back down. Rhett pushed right back up.
“I know you did.” Vaughn’s voice was soft. “But at least she’s in the city
now.”
In the city, but where? And with that vampire?
Vaughn looked toward the front of the ambulance, then he peered back at Rhett. “Things shouldn’t have gone down like this.”
The EMT had finally backed the hell off. “Tell me about it,” Rhett muttered. “My sister shouldn’t be a damn vampire. ”
Vaughn shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” The guy’s voice was tight, heavy with tension. The way he usually sounded when he was coming off an undercover mission.
Only Vaughn had transferred out of Vice. He was supposed to be working homicide now. And . . .
Vaughn had just pulled out his gun. “I never wanted to do this . . .”
“What the hell?” Why did Vaughn have a gun out in the ambulance?
“But orders are orders.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Rhett started to fight the tubes and wires around him. Furious, the EMT whirled to face Vaughn. “You’re gonna have to help me hold—” He broke off, eyes widening as he saw the gun.
Then Vaughn shot the guy.
Ryder didn’t burn. Sabine had raced forward and she grabbed for Dante’s hand only to realize . . .
Ryder’s shirt was on fire, yeah, but his skin wasn’t burning. Not even blistering.
“I think that instant’s about up,” Ryder muttered.
Dante’s eyes had widened. His stare flew to her. “What have you done?”
What had she done?
But then Dante was the one screaming as Ryder sank his teeth into the phoenix’s neck. The two men were about the same size, both big, powerful. Only Dante’s fire couldn’t seem to hurt Ryder, but Ryder’s bite . . . oh yes, it was definitely hurting the phoenix.
Blood streamed down Dante’s neck. It wasn’t a gentle bite. No, it was brutal. Savage. She put her hand to her mouth, horrified. Was this what she’d become? “Ryder . . .” His name broke from her lips.
His head lifted and turned toward her. Blood dripped from his mouth.
Monster.
She knew exactly what she was staring at.
Ryder flinched. He shook his head, as if lost or confused. “Sabine?”
Dante shoved him away. “Fucking experiments.”
Was that all they were?
Dante put a hand to his throat, trying to stop the heavy blood flow. “I’ll kill you both.” A chilling promise.
“No,” Ryder lifted his claws, “but I’m about to kill you.”
“Police! Freeze!” a female voice shouted.
Dante smirked, and he didn’t freeze. “Heard them coming, didn’t you, vamp?” Fire blazed above his fingers. “I heard ’em, too, and thought we could play.”
Sabine spun to face the cops—three of them. Armed and running quickly down the narrow path. “Get back!” Sabine yelled at them.
But the police had seen the blood. They’d seen the fire. They weren’t turning back.
Not even when Dante sent the fire right for them.
Hell. Sabine ran for the cops, moving as fast as she could. They started yelling for her to freeze, but if she stopped, they’d die.
She didn’t stop.
One of them fired at her. She moved faster, faster . . . Another fired.
The bullets missed her because she was moving so fast.
Vampire fast.
Sabine tackled one cop. Felt the heat of flames dance over their bodies.
Ryder hit the others. They went down, hard enough for her to hear the crunch of bones. The cops would all have plenty of bruises, but they’d be alive. The flames had passed over their bodies.
Sabine grabbed the gun that the cop had been shooting at her with and tucked it into her waistband. “You’re welcome,” she muttered. The guy started to fight. Sabine bit her lip. She didn’t want to do this, but there wasn’t much choice.
She slammed his head into the cement.
His eyes rolled back, and he stopped fighting.
“Don’t worry, love, he’s not dead.”
She hoped not. She’d been trying to save the guy.
She just hadn’t wanted to keep fighting him.
Ryder snagged her hand. “Come on. Dante’s already gone.”
Not surprising. Only smoke and fire were left in his wake. But the cops would have called for backup, and Sabine didn’t exactly want to be huddled over those limp human bodies when said backup came rushing to the scene.
She let Ryder pull her to her feet. But then she took the lead. This was her city, after all. She led him through the twisting maze of streets and nook-tight corners that most wouldn’t know about. When they finally spilled out onto Bourbon Street, blending with the crowd was instant and far too easy.
Ryder kept a hand curled around her waist, as if he was afraid that she was about to cut and run. She had no plans to do that. Yet.
She needed to figure out just what the hell was going on.
But getting a nice, alone-time spot for a chat wasn’t gonna happen right then.
Sabine turned and wrapped her arms around Ryder. He stiffened for an instant, but then immediately pulled her closer as they pushed toward the outside of a bar. His hands curled around her waist. Seemed to brand her.
Sabine breathed slowly, too aware of him then. And, um, yes, the guy was aware of her, too. She could feel that awareness pushing against her and getting larger by the moment. She wet her lips, not in preparation for a kiss, really, and leaned up on her toes to ask, “Were we followed?”
Ryder gave a small negative shake of his head.
That was something.
“I have to get to the hospital. I need to see about Rhett.”
“Every time you get close to him, you just put him at risk.” His mouth was inches from hers. To others, they’d look like embracing lovers.
Isn’t that what we are?
“You shouldn’t have come back here,” he said, voice and eyes hardening. “I told you to stay away. You’re not the same any longer. Your family . . .” His jaw locked. “I’m sorry, but they aren’t safe with you around them.”
He could have just taken a dull knife and hacked into her heart. It would have hurt a lot less.
She glanced down at his shirt. Burned. Blackened. But his chest was unmarred. “What’s happening to you? To me?”
Looking up, she saw that his gaze held so many secrets. She was tired of secrets.
“You need to trust me,” he said.
Sabine didn’t answer.
“You trusted me to get you out of Genesis.”
Yes, she had. But it hadn’t exactly been as if she had tons of options then.
“Trust me now. Don’t run from me again. Stay with me. Let me help you.” His hands tightened on her waist. “The hunger, the bloodlust will hit you soon. If you’re not careful, the first time you feed, you may lose control. I’ve dealt with bloodlust longer than you can imagine. When it comes to being a vampire, I’m a fucking expert.”
Someone jostled her from behind. A mumbled sorry drifted to her even as Ryder snapped, “Watch it!”
She ignored the jostle. “I can’t talk about this, not here, not—”
He glanced away from her. Looked up the street. To the left. The right. Then his eyes narrowed. “I know a place.”
Uh, wasn’t that supposed to be her line?
But now he was leading and she was following and she was tired and . . . and a dull hunger was starting to gnaw at her. Blood? I don’t want blood. I don’t ever want to drink blood.
Then Ryder was pausing in front of a small bar, one with dark windows and throbbing music. Twisting letters said the place was called BRAN, and there was what looked like the top of a castle sketched beneath that name. A bouncer stood in front of the door, and the guy didn’t seem to be letting anyone in. He was a bear of a man, covered in tats and piercings, and he snarled at the folks dumb enough to head toward him.
Ryder headed right for him.
And, yes, the guy stopped snarling.
“We’re here for a drink,”
Ryder said.
The bouncer cast a suspicious glance her way.
“We’re both here for the drink.” Ryder’s tone snapped now. Obviously he was getting annoyed.
Sabine shifted from her left foot to her right. The bar wasn’t on Bourbon Street. Technically it was off just one street to the side, but despite its close proximity to the infamous party street, Sabine had never been to that bar, not in all of her years in New Orleans. In fact, the place kind of looked like a hellhole. Not exactly inviting and—
The bouncer opened the door for them.
The interior was so dark. Too dark. She squinted.
“Give it a minute,” Ryder advised her. “Your eyes will adjust. You just aren’t used to your vamp senses yet.”
Um, okay. She blinked a few times. Then everything seemed to sharpen and brighten. She saw the tables. Men. Women.
Saw the bar.
Saw the . . . blood being served?
She grabbed his arm and dug her nails into his flesh. “How did you know?” The guy had just steered her right into a vampire bar.
He pried her nails out of his arm and led her across the room. “Because this place is mine.”
The bartender stiffened when she got a glimpse of Ryder’s face. She was fumbling now, hurriedly filling two glasses with red liquid, and she quickly put them in front of two empty seats at the bar. “S-sir . . .”
He nodded his thanks, but then waved her away.
Sabine’s gaze darted around the bar. “Are they all . . . ?”
“They’re just like us.”
There was a snap in his voice.
Not like me. She swallowed back the words. She hadn’t exactly gotten used to the whole I’m-a-vampire bit.
“H-how do they know to come here?” The place was a vamp bar. Got it. But did the vamps all spread some kind of secret code on the Internet? Telling each other where the blood bars were in the United States? “How did they know they could get blood here?” Because vamps were out of their closets—coffins—sure, but she’d never heard of a place like this. It sure hadn’t been featured on any news shows.
“The name told them what it was.”
Bran?
His fingers wrapped around the blood-filled glass, but he didn’t drink. “Don’t know much about Dracula, do you?”
Not exactly her area of expertise, no.