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Page 111
Page 111
“Don’t come at him again!” the blond man screamed when he saw Vaughn.
Again?
Shame slid through Vaughn even as his gaze swept over the boy. He was familiar.
I’m sorry.
Vaughn knew he’d hurt the boy. Hurt so many.
His gaze turned to his father. His dad looked as if he’d aged twenty years since the night of Vaughn’s attack.
“V-Vaughn?” his father whispered. “Are you really back?” Vaughn nodded.
“Now for the fun,” Shaw murmured. “Vaughn, go rip out their throats, starting with your father.”
Keith’s eyes widened. “No, son. No!”
“Sorry, but he’s not taking orders from you now,” Shaw said. “It’s my voice that he follows. Mine.”
Helpless, Vaughn started to walk toward his father. “Get away, Dad,” he whispered. “Get the guard’s gun. Shoot me. Get out of here!”
But his dad seemed frozen. Broken.
“I missed you, Vaughn,” Keith said softly. “Your mother . . . had a heart attack a few months back. I lost her. I didn’t want to lose you . . .”
And Vaughn didn’t want to kill his father.
The boy—lunged forward and caught the guard unaware. The kid grabbed the gun and aimed it at Vaughn. “No more!” the kid screamed.
“Drop the gun,” Shaw said, her voice cracking with power.
The gun immediately fell from his hands.
The blond man pushed the boy back behind him.
Vaughn was almost in front of his father. Nearly close enough to kill.
“Make them suffer,” Shaw shouted, her voice feverish and wild. “Make them—ahhh!”
Vaughn’s head jerked around as her words ended. She was . . . gurgling—
Choking.
On her own blood.
Cassie had been breathing. She stood there, covered in blood, and her hand was still around the scalpel that she’d shoved into Shaw’s throat.
“I think you’ve done enough talking,” Cassie whispered. “Now, you can just die.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Every part of Cassie’s body hurt, but she was alive, on her feet, and that crazy bitch who’d tried to kill her was going down.
She yanked the scalpel to the left. “The power’s in the voice, right? Try talking now.” An impossible task since she’d just taken Dr. Shaw’s voice box.
Then, because it wasn’t about someone suffering, but because she just wanted to end it, she pulled the scalpel back and prepared to send Zura to whatever world waited for her next. Hope it’s a fiery one.
But . . . there was already fire. Burning so bright and hot behind Zura. A man—surrounded by flames.
He reached for Zura even as Cassie scrambled back.
Zura tried to scream, but she couldn’t.
She was burning.
The smell was horrible and Cassie turned away—only to see Charles blocking Jamie’s view of that terrible scene. “Charles, get Jamie out of here!” He already had enough nightmares.
Charles grabbed him and they ran. The guards were all running, too, fleeing from the beast that was attacking.
Or maybe . . . with Shaw gone the guards were finally free.
“Dad?” Vaughn’s rough voice.
He was hugging his dad.
It wasn’t the time for hugging. “Vaughn, get him out of here!”
That wasn’t Dante in the middle of the fire. She still had a chance of reaching him. Controlling him.
He hadn’t risen.
When her eyes had opened, he’d been near her. Dead.
The fire was coming from Jon. He was the one who’d risen first. The one who’d just burned Dr. Shaw.
Vaughn held tight to his dad and they ran.
Cassie took a few careful steps away from Jon. Zura was—just gone. Only ashes drifted in the air.
Jon stared at her through the flames. His eyes were burning as bright as the fire. The flames began to roll away from him, toward her.
“Jon, stop.”
The flames flickered, then died away. Jon stood there, and—she sucked in a sharp breath—burns covered him. “You—” She could barely make herself speak. “Something is wrong. The fire is—”
“Killing me,” he finished, voice rasping. “Because I still have . . . human in me. I need more of... the tears. More of the serum.”
He’d lost her. “What serum?”
“The female . . . Sabine . . . we got her tears.” He smiled, and the sight was horrific on his damaged face. “Killed her, broke her, made her . . . cry again and again before Ryder . . . changed her.”