“Once they mate, the siren can walk away, the ties won’t bind her, but her prey . . . is trapped. The only way he can escape her hold is death.”
Cassie didn’t like what he was saying. Didn’t want to hear another word.
I’m no siren. I’m Cassie Armstrong. I’m a doctor. I’m twenty-nine. I’m—
“Don’t you want to know how you lure me to you?”
No. “Yes.” Soft, scared. She would not be scared.
Hell, she was so scared.
“Part of it is your scent.” He inhaled deeply, and his fingers tunneled in her hair, pulling her close to him. “Shifters can usually catch a siren’s scent, even if they don’t necessarily realize what that scent means.”
“But you know what it means . . .”
“I’ve dealt with sirens before.”
It didn’t sound like he’d dealt with them in a positive way.
He bent his head and his lips pressed against her throat. Her heartbeat spiked.
“It’s not just your scent, though,” Dante rasped, “it’s your taste that draws me, too. So sweet and light . . . tempting me to gobble you up.”
He scored her flesh with his teeth.
“I had to be careful. I tried not to kiss you for a long time, but the first time I tasted your lips, the lure was set.”
“You left after our first kiss.” Cassie had kissed him right before she’d killed him at Genesis. Stupidly, desperately, she’d hoped that the kiss would make him remember her.
His head lifted, but her neck tingled, as if she still felt the heat of his mouth. “I thought I could break the link. I tried . . .”
That hurt.
“I couldn’t. You kept pulling me back to you.”
He was wrong. She’d wanted him to be free. “No, I didn’t do anything—”
The gold deep within his eyes began to burn. “Did you dream of me, Cassie?”
She had. So many dreams. But what was wrong with a dream? Cassie nodded.
“A siren can lure through her dreams. The link was between us, and you used it. Every time you dreamed, every time you longed, you sent that longing to me. Made me feel it.”
He sounded almost angry.
But she hadn’t meant to do anything like that. “I’m not a siren.” Her desperate whisper. He was wrong. He had to be.
“A phoenix can’t mate with just anyone. Our fire burns too hot. We’d kill human lovers.” His lips twisted. “I know phoenixes who have—and they couldn’t even take their own lives when the guilt ate at them.”
She couldn’t speak.
“A male phoenix can mate with a female of our kind, but it’s rare. We just don’t f**king trust each other enough. Our killer instinct is stronger than our mating instinct.”
That would be why phoenixes weren’t populating the world.
“Dragon shifters work as potential mates. They can handle any fire. But, because of that, they’re also threats to us.”
Any being that could handle the fire could also attack a phoenix during his weakest moment—the rising.
“But there’s one more that can mate with us. One who can soothe our fire, with her siren’s song.”
Cassie shook her head.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re my mate, Cassie. There’s no denying it. I took you, I claimed you, and now, you are mine.”
Jamie ran through the lab and slammed the door of his “room” shut. His hands were shaking and his stomach twisted with fear.
He’d wanted to kill that vampire—that freak was just like the one who’d turned Tim.
But when he’d gone in there with the chunk of broken wood he’d taken from the chair he smashed in his room, the vampire had been too strong for him.
The guy’s fangs had been at his throat. If Cassie hadn’t come in . . .
I would be dead.
Or, even worse, he’d be a vampire.
He didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t understand anything, not anymore. When they’d first come out to the world, vampires had told everyone that they could get along with humans. They’d been all friendly on the TV shows.
Then those fanged freaks had attacked.
And Jamie’s world had ended.
He sucked in a deep breath. One. Two. The breaths didn’t calm him down any. Tim used to tell him . . .
Don’t get so angry, man. Breathe. Relax.
Tim wasn’t there anymore.
Jamie wasn’t going to let that vampire keep living in that room down the hall. Tim was dead, and that guy deserved to die, too.
Jamie just had to find a way to get to the vamp again—get to him, and take him out.
When he’d hidden for all those hours in that swamp, he had made one vow. Just one. If he survived . . .
He’d kill every vampire that ever crossed his path.
That vampire—Vaughn—was going to hell.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cassie was afraid.
Dante could see the fear on her face in the widening of her eyes, and hear it in the rapid breaths that slipped from her parted lips.
“You truly had no idea of just what you are.” He’d wondered for a long time. She’d seemed so unaware of her power—when she could have used it to her advantage numerous times.
If she wanted, she could soothe any shifter with just the sound of her voice.
But she hadn’t tried. Had never used that soft, seductive whisper that sirens loved so much.
Actually, she had used that voice—when she’d been na**d with him.
And his phoenix had stayed buried so the man could claim her.
“Your voice is your power. When you inject it with the magic that’s deep inside you, Cassie, you can command anyone.”
“I-I don’t want to command.”
No, she wouldn’t.
“Remember, that’s where your power is.” If she needed that strength, he damn sure wanted her to use it. “When you sing your siren’s song, when you do it right, no one can hurt you.”
She still had doubt in her eyes.
“You’re not going to age anymore. At least, the sirens I’ve met stopped aging in their late twenties.” Dante shrugged. They stayed young and attractive—the better to keep luring in their prey.
Even though Cassie was only half-siren, he suspected the same aging rule would hold true for her. All the other siren traits were there—buried, but there—so it stood to reason she had that perk, too.
“How many sirens have you met?”
“Three.” He wouldn’t mention that he’d killed the first one. She’d been his brother’s lover, and they’d both been bent on Dante’s death.