That had just been for show. If she’d really had a badass boyfriend, she wouldn’t have been screwing around with Cain. Just what kind of girl did he think she was?
The easy kind.
Obviously. Jerk.
She shoved against his chest. Hard. “There’s no boyfriend,” she gritted out. “That was a lie, okay? It was kind of a desperate moment.”
His lashes flickered. She could have sworn that some of the tension seemed to ease from his clenched jaw.
“As fun as this shit isn’t,” Trace said, bringing her attention right back to him, “wanna tell me why you just broke into my house?”
“I’m here for her.” Cain’s voice was flat. “I came back for Eve.”
Like she was some kind of package he needed to pick up. She dropped her hands and headed back to the bedroom. “La di damn da. Isn’t that fantastic?” She was pretty sure no violence was about to wreck the stairs, so she felt safe walking away.
She paused at the threshold of her bedroom and told him, “In case you didn’t know, I have a life—and a story to write. One very big, important story. I was going to talk to Vance tonight and get more material, but then you—”
Cain tackled her. Her body slammed into the floor even as the window near the bed exploded and glass flew into the room. Glass . . . and smoke.
“Are you all right?” Cain’s voice.
She blinked and managed to open her eyes. She wanted to talk and say that, yeah, except for having a two-hundred-pound male crushing her, she was fine.
Only . . . she couldn’t talk.
And she wasn’t fine. And that wasn’t smoke filling the room. It was some kind of gas. Choking her. Making her body feel limp and dizzy and . . . dammit, she remembered this feeling from Genesis! They were trying to drug her again.
She coughed and pushed at Cain’s chest.
“Get her out of there!” Trace yelled.
Cain already had her up. He pulled her with him and back toward the stairs.
“Told you,” Cain growled. More glass exploded—she could hear it shattering all through the house. “You’re being . . . hunted.”
Cain had followed her back to Trace’s house. Either he’d lead the hunters to her . . . they’d followed him or . . .
Or they followed me and Trace when we left the warehouse. We got away too easily. They followed us and they waited for Cain to show up.
If her throat weren’t burning so much, she could say this . . . but no, she couldn’t manage so much as a word right then.
“They’re coming in. They want us alive.” Cain was talking to Trace now.
What? Were they suddenly buddy-buddy? A little hell could do that to guys.
“Well, they want her alive anyway. They’ll either kill you or take you in.”
“I’m not going in a cage.” The fury in Trace’s voice chilled her. He’d been in a cage as a teen—trapped in prison. He’d sworn never to go back.
The cage hurt his beast too much.
Hurt him too much.
Trace needed to leave her. He could run so fast.
Without her, Eve knew he’d be able to get away from the hunters coming. “L-leave . . .” The word was a raw whisper in her throat. Why wasn’t the gas affecting them as much?
Trace staggered and fell down three steps. The gas was hitting him.
Her chest ached.
“I’ve got her,” Cain said. “Get out of here!”
But was it too late? Eve could hear the thud of footsteps racing inside Trace’s house. The hunters were coming for them.
Why?
Wyatt was dead. Genesis had burned. They should be safe.
“Hurt her”—Trace snarled—“and I’ll . . . kill you.”
She saw the beast shining in his eyes. His shift was coming.
“You can try,” Cain told him, not sounding too concerned, “but I can’t promise I’ll stay dead.”
The gas must’ve had the smallest impact on him. He still sounded normal. Was still walking and—
No, he was running. Running right down the stairs, dragging her with him, and fire was flowing from the fingers of his right hand. Fire that raced toward the men with guns. They shot their bullets, aiming at him. Eve heard Cain grunt, but he didn’t slow down.
The fire blew open the front door. She was behind him, stumbling, holding on to him as best she could as he faced the shooters. His fire swept out, forming a wall that shoved the others back, even as Cain pulled her toward a motorcycle that waited near the edge of the property.
The fresh air slid into her lungs, making her stronger. The light of dawn was a red streak across the sky as she climbed onto the motorcycle. She heard a wolf howl and saw a dark shadow race into the trees.