So much for the cameras.
Eve bent down and scooped up one of the guards’ weapons. The gun, a Glock, felt heavy in her grip. She took a deep breath, one full of smoke and fear, and headed after Cain.
She saw another gun just a foot away. Why take just one weapon . . . ?
Cain had already yanked open the main door. She could hear sirens blaring. Fire alarms. The fire would cause confusion. Chaos. There wasn’t a better time to slip inside.
“Stand down.” Wyatt’s voice blasted through the intercom system.
Eve’s fingers tightened around the gun. “Let’s go.” There was a stairwell to the left.
A guard rushed at them.
Cain threw him back. The guy slammed into the wall.
Cain kicked open the stairwell door. The area was small inside, cramped. They hurried down. Opened another door—
“I told you to stand down,” Wyatt said.
There he was. Just waiting in the middle of the hallway.
Only he wasn’t alone. A dozen armed guards were behind him, and Trace was in front of him. The werewolf was on his knees, and Wyatt had a gun shoved against Trace’s temple.
“Silver bullets, of course,” Wyatt told them with a small smile. “Since silver is the only thing that keeps his kind down.”
Cain lunged forward, but Eve shoved her left hand against his chest. “Stop.” Cain was fast, but was he fast enough to beat Wyatt? One squeeze of that trigger, and Trace would die right in front of her eyes.
“I thought you might feel a certain . . . affection for the wolf.” Wyatt’s smirk was so knowing it sickened her. No, he sickened her. “Now toss away the gun, Eve.”
She tossed it. Good thing she’d taken the liberty of grabbing two guns. The other one was tucked in the back of her jeans, hidden below her shirt. Wyatt probably hadn’t seen her grab the other gun, thanks to the smoke and fire. She just had to get close enough to use her backup weapon.
Close enough to blow that smirk off his face.
“Come toward me, Eve,” Wyatt said.
She could get close enough. She took one step.
Cain grabbed her arm, freezing her. His hold was tight enough to bruise. “You don’t move.” Then he was in front of her. “I’ll give you five seconds to let the werewolf go. To let your men get the hell out of here.”
Eve’s hand began to inch toward her second weapon. Cain was so big, a perfect wall to shield her movements.
“Five seconds,” Cain said again and she could smell the scent of smoke. She knew the scent was coming from him. “Or I’ll burn this whole bitch of a facility down around us all.”
The fire wouldn’t hurt him. Or her.
But it would kill Wyatt and the humans. And Trace.
Her hand froze. “Cain?” Okay, she’d known that he planned to torch the place, but she’d thought he’d do that after they got all the prisoners out.
“You’re not caging me again,” Cain told Wyatt, his voice dark. Deadly. “You’re not caging anyone.”
Murmurs came from the guards. The shuffle of feet as they no doubt started to back the hell up.
“Five.” Cain’s voice cut through the room.
“You won’t burn me!” Wyatt’s shout.
Eve was sure he would.
“Four.” Cain hadn’t moved. His legs were braced apart, his hands up at his sides. Eve shifted to the left, and she could see fire swirling above his open palms.
“Eve!” Wyatt was sounding desperate. “Stop him, Eve, or you’ll never know what you are.”
Was he really going to toss that at her? Like he knew anything about her. Eve’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t fall for his tricks.
“Three.”
But she couldn’t let Trace die. Could Cain control his flames? Send them out to attack a specific target? She tried to edge around Cain to see Trace. She was sweating and her hands were shaking.
“I know what you are, Eve!” Wyatt was sweating, too. But he still had his gun to Trace’s temple. Trace just stared forward, eyes glassy. Drugged.
“You don’t know,” she whispered. This was her moment. She’d pull up her gun, shoot Wyatt.
What if he shot Trace?
“Two.” Cain’s determined voice. The flames flared higher.
“She was just like you!” Wyatt yelled. The gun lifted one inch from Trace’s head. “The fire couldn’t hurt her, because of what she was!”
No. “My mother died in a fire.”
Wyatt’s gun rose more. Eased away from Trace’s head. “That’s what the world was supposed to think. The vamps killed her long before the fire ever touched her. Fire never could hurt her.” Wyatt’s eyes were on Eve. “Want to know the truth? I can tell you! I can—”
“One.” Cain’s hands lifted.
“I don’t want the truth. I want you to get the hell away from my friend.” She yanked up her gun and fired.
The bullet caught Wyatt in the shoulder and he staggered back. All the guards with him immediately lifted their weapons to fire, but Cain sent a giant ball of fire rolling toward them. The men yelled and most dropped to the floor. One shot his weapon, but the bullet missed her and—
Wyatt was laughing.
Eve lunged forward and grabbed Trace’s hand. “Come with me.” She yanked him toward her and they fell to the floor.
Wyatt was still laughing.
She looked up. He’d yanked open his shirt to stare down at the bullet wound. Only . . . the wound was closing. Wyatt’s eyes were bright and wild and he was lifting his gun to aim it at her.
Richard Wyatt wasn’t human. Or, at least, he wasn’t anymore. Eve realized the scientist had been playing Frankenstein with his own body. Just what had he become?
Eve targeted her own weapon on him. So the first shot hadn’t done any good. Maybe the next would.
She fired the gun, even as he did. But his bullets didn’t hit her. Trace had lunged up. The silver bullets thudded into his chest. He grunted and fell back. Wyatt kept firing, until his empty gun clicked.
“One protector down,” Wyatt muttered. He didn’t seem fazed by the growing fire. The guards had backed up, getting away from the fire, but they had their weapons ready. The sprinklers burst on from overhead, drenching everyone in the hallway. Eve stayed crouched on the floor, but Cain stalked forward.
Her bullets had hit Wyatt, but the man was still on his feet.
“Science can beat the supernatural,” Wyatt said, sounding perfectly normal, as if he hadn’t been shot multiple times. “What we can do is amazing, really.”