No way—she grabbed him and smashed his perfect white shirt in her fists. “Help . . . him . . .” She choked a bit as she fought to drag in clear oxygen.
Two guards pulled her off him.
Wyatt straightened his shirt. “Don’t worry. We already know the gas only kills Thirteen for a little while.”
She jerked against the guards. Her mind was clearing, her body growing strong again, but the hands holding her just tightened. They led her back to the observation area. Back to that damn two-way mirror.
More gas pumped in. More. Cain stood in the middle of the room, shoulders back, and his eyes—his eyes were focused only on her.
I’m sorry. This time, she was the one to silently offer the words. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged.
A muscle jerked in his jaw.
“He’s withstanding the gas for a longer period of time. He should have been on his knees by this point.” Wyatt sounded so damn clinical.
“You’re a . . . sick ass**le . . .” she managed. Her body wasn’t back to normal, not yet, and talking required some serious effort.
He smiled. “And you’re not who you claim to be, Dr. Bradley.”
Screw him. Like she had to explain herself to him.
“But I knew you weren’t the real deal from the first moment you stepped into the facility.”
How had he known that? Her cover should have been perfect. She’d sweat blood making that cover.
Eve pulled her gaze off Cain and glared at the doctor. “Then why . . . let me stay? Why show . . . me—”
“Subject Thirteen?”
“His name’s . . . Cain!” Not just a number, dammit.
“Because I knew once you came to Genesis, you wouldn’t be leaving.” He inclined his head toward the guards. “And I’d hoped to be able to use you.”
Use her?
“It looks like you’ll be more beneficial than I ever hoped.”
The guards began to pull her away from the observation mirror.
She dug in her heels, fighting. Cain—he was dropping to his knees. His head sagging.
“I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.” The psychotic doc appeared puzzled. “Especially so soon after a change.”
Cain’s body hit the floor.
No.
She didn’t realize she’d screamed until Wyatt heaved out a sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic. I told you . . . the gas won’t kill him for long.”
But it had killed him.
The guards dragged her away and her scream seemed to bounce off the walls of her new hell.
The fire consumed his flesh, burning him from the inside out. Cain sucked in a breath and tasted the ash on his tongue. The changes were coming faster now, harder, hotter, and with each change . . .
He felt the darkness inside him growing.
Kill. Destroy.
The whispers were there—coming from the beast he’d tried hard to keep locked away for so many years.
Death brought the darkness closer. Made him lose more of the man he’d once been.
Turned him into the beast that destiny had designed him to become.
He put his hands on the floor. Pushed up. Saw the fire slide across the hard stone of his room, then die away.
Rising, he sucked in more breaths. He didn’t want the taste of ash on his tongue, he wanted her. Eve.
The beast snarled, and the flames flared higher. He stared through the window. They were watching. Always watching.
They didn’t realize what they’d unleashed. Their f**king games. Each death only made him stronger. More dangerous.
As the man faded and the beast quickened within him . . . more f**king dangerous.
The echo of the woman’s screams pierced his ears. She’d tried to help him.
Why?
“The woman is secure.” That damn voice. Driving him insane. “Don’t worry,” the voice continued, “we’ll take good care of her.”
The flames began to die away. He had to swallow back the fire, again and again, before he could manage speech. “I don’t give a shit what you do to her.”
Soft laughter. “Yes, you do.”
He didn’t move. He knew his eyes would still be burning with fire, and he wanted one of those ass**les to come inside. To just come close enough to touch . . .
“You still remember her.” The voice—Wyatt—sounded pleased. “You remember who you are . . . after our fifth experiment, you couldn’t remember anything, not for days.”
Because the beast had taken over. Too much darkness. Wyatt and his army of lab coats didn’t get it. They weren’t just playing with fire when it came to him. They were playing with hell.