Sabine couldn’t speak.
“He wasn’t always like that,” Ryder said. His fingers brushed lightly over her stomach. “Wyatt experimented on him, too. Pushed his beast into taking over. I’m not even sure that any part of the man is left within him now.”
“Is he loose?” she asked, as her heartbeat kicked up and she finally found words.
Ryder nodded. “Him . . . and dozens of other monsters that Wyatt played God with in his labs.”
Other monsters . . . like the primal vampires.
“Do you want me to kill him?” Ryder asked again. “Because I can hunt him. I can—”
Sabine put her fingers to his lips. Part of her wanted to kill the wolf herself. A very, very big part. But another part of her had recognized the animal in him. An animal that had been in such horrible pain. She’d looked into his eyes. Seen rage and hate and fear. He hadn’t been trying to kill her. She’d been in his way. But . . .
“We deal with the immediate threats,” Sabine said, because they had to create a plan. “Then we’ll start dealing with Wyatt’s mess.” Someone would have to clean up after him.
Why not them?
Clearing her throat, she said, “W-we can’t hide here forever.” Our enemies will find us sooner or later.
He blinked at her. “I’m not hiding. I hide from no one.”
Now she did smile. “Of course you don’t. We came here because—”
“Because you needed to remember your life. Who you are on the inside hasn’t changed.”
Her smile faded.
“You’re still the girl who fished with her father. Still the girl who jumped from the pier. The girl in all those pictures that line the walls.” His gaze searched hers. “And you’re also the woman that I f**ked so well here all morning.”
Okay, now that sent a ripple of surprise through her.
“You’re not some monster. You’re still you. And, Sabine, that’s—” He broke off as his head jerked up. Then his gaze flew to the door.
She strained, trying to use her new, enhanced senses. Yes, she could hear a car’s engine, but the sound was faint, still far away.
Ryder was on his feet in an instant. He yanked up his jeans. Sabine scrambled for her clothes. The last thing she felt like doing was facing an enemy naked.
She hopped as she put on her jeans and snatched the shirt over her head. Ryder wasn’t waiting for the enemy to come in. He’d already run out the front door.
Typical. Her vamp always attacked first, then asked his questions later. Provided, of course, that his enemies were still breathing and could answer any questions.
The engine had come closer. A few moments later, a car door slammed. She caught a raised voice, a male who asked, “What are you—”
Her blood froze. She knew that voice.
Sabine raced outside. The two men had stilled, facing off against each other.
Ryder and . . . Rhett?
She didn’t realize she’d whispered her brother’s name, but then she was running as fast as she could and throwing her arms around him. He staggered back when her body collided with his, but then his arms wrapped around her. She smelled blood and ash, and she was afraid for him and so happy and she was laughing as she held him.
Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. The litany repeated over and over in her head.
“It’s okay,” Rhett told her. “Sabe, you’re squeezing the life out of me. I swear, I’m all right.”
But she didn’t want to let him go.
She also didn’t want to hurt him.
So she eased back, just a little bit. “How are you here?”
His face was pale and tired. “I tried to figure out a safe place you’d go.”
Where’s your safe place?
She glanced back at Ryder.
He gave her a little nod.
Her breath heaved out. Ryder had known. She swallowed. He’d known that her brother might break free of whatever prison held him. And he’d wanted to take her to a place where Rhett would be able to find her.
He’d found her.
She squeezed him again.
“Don’t break my ribs!” Rhett gasped out.
Whoops. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She’d have to be more careful with that vamp strength.
“We should move this inside,” Ryder said, his voice mild. “There’s always the chance that he was followed.”
She eased away from him, but Sabine kept a strong hold on Rhett’s arm. She didn’t touch his bloody wrists or the blisters on his flesh. Sabine was as careful as she could be.
“There’s no chance I was followed.” Rhett came easily with her. “I staked the bastard who came for me.”
Her gaze met Ryder’s. “A vampire attacked you?”
“No, that ass**le from The Rift—the SOB who burned down my bar. He can touch things and they burn.”
Dante.
Ryder let them enter the cabin first. His gaze swept behind them.
“You killed him?” Sabine asked, just to be sure. “You saw him die?”
“I drove a chunk of wood into his heart.” Rhett’s shoulders sagged as soon as he was in the cabin. As if he thought . . . I’m safe here. But he wasn’t. “The fire was burning all around us. He was dead when he fell, I know he was, and the fire was just going to burn right over him.”
Not exactly.
Sabine’s gaze met Ryder’s. “Was he followed?”
“I wasn’t!” Rhett immediately huffed. “He was dead, I tell you, he was—”
“He’ll come back.” Sabine tried to keep her voice steady. “That man, his name is Dante, and he isn’t dead.”
Rhett shook his head. “Bull. Even vamps can’t come back if you stake their hearts. I took out that guy and—”
“He wasn’t a vampire. You killed him, yes.” She cleared her throat. “But after he burns, he’ll come back. He’s a phoenix, and death doesn’t stop him.”
It just pisses him off.
Her brother shook his head. “That’s insane! A phoenix? Like the myth? The big bird that burns and—”
“Not exactly like the myth,” Ryder interrupted as his gaze studied Rhett. “But close enough.”
“He’s dead.” Rhett was definite. A faint flush stained his cheeks. “We have other things to worry about instead of focusing on a corpse. Like Dad—he’s gone. The house is empty. What if Vaughn grabbed him, too?”
Tell him. “I know Dante isn’t dead because”—she inhaled slowly and made her gaze hold his—“because I was like him.”