Jon eased away from her, but he didn’t leave the room.

He just stood back there and watched.

She didn’t cry out. Like she could with the gag. But she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of watching her pain. Her gaze turned up to the light.

It isn’t me. It isn’t me. She just had to pretend that the pain was happening to someone else.

He thought it was her first time to be under the knife? How did he think her blood had come to be poison?

She stared up at that light. Focused only on it.

It isn’t me.

The harder that she looked at the light, the more it looked like fire.

Dante.

She could almost see him there.

Dante stared at the low buildings sprawled across the land. From the outside, they looked like he was staring at an old ranch, one that had fallen into disrepair.

But the reinforced fencing around the ranch—that heavy barbed wire—and the dozens of vehicles that had gone toward the place told him the ranch was far from abandoned.

And the fact that there seemed to be no animals there?

Well, the barbed wire had to be an effort to keep someone in.

His gaze went to the left, to the right. Guards were out there, patrolling. He’d caught sight of them a few times.

They hadn’t seen him yet. That was why they were still living.

His stare returned to the row of buildings.

Cassie was in one of those buildings. He knew she was. He’d followed the bastards who’d left him in that field. They’d been so busy running away that they hadn’t bothered to look behind them as they sped off in the SUVs.

He’d been right there.

Another motorcycle had been hidden in that shed. Dante had jumped on it, and hauled ass after them as quickly as he could. The night had helped to cover his tracks. He hadn’t bothered with headlights.

He’d kept the SUVs within sight. Followed them all the way.

The helicopter was behind the ranch. He’d spotted it earlier.

The trick was to get it. To get her.

He didn’t plan to leave without Cassie.

“I didn’t realize that the subject was incapable of feeling pain.”

Jon glanced up at Dr. Shaw as she approached him. A faint frown was on her face. A pretty face—pretty but cold.

“You should have told us sooner,” she said, her pale blue eyes showing her censure. “It would have made the others feel much less nervous about the procedures.”

Cassie hadn’t made a single sound—not a moan, not a whimper—while the doctors had been working on her.

“She feels pain.” He knew she did. He’d seen her react to pain before.

He pushed away from the wall. Headed toward her. “Get back,” he ordered the doctor with the graying hair.

The man immediately stumbled back. He didn’t move fast or far enough, so Jon shoved him out of the way.

“Cassie.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t even blink. She was staring straight up at the light.

“Cassie!”

Still nothing.

Jon bent his head over hers, forcing her to see him. But she didn’t. Her pupils were fixed. She was still staring straight ahead, and not appearing to see a damn thing.

He cut away the gag. They didn’t need that. The woman’s body was there, but her mind was somewhere far away.

Interesting trick. He hadn’t realized that Cassie would be able to pull off something like that.

He’d underestimated her.

Again.

“I won’t make that mistake again.” He motioned toward Dr. Shaw. “Keep going.”

“H-her heart rate seems to be dropping.” This was from the guy he’d shoved back.

Jon glanced at the heart monitor. Yes, it was dropping. “We’re not in the danger zone yet.” He stepped away from Cassie. “Finish.”

Dr. Shaw nodded quickly as she stepped forward.

“I . . . see . . .” That weak whisper was Cassie’s voice.

Jon stiffened. “What do you see, Cassie?”

“Dante . . .” Her lips actually curled. “I see his fire.”

An alarm began to sound, echoing through the facility.

“I see . . . his fire . . .”

Impossible.

But . . . Jon felt a surge of fear inside him as he whirled to race from the room.

CHAPTER SIX

When a guard saw him and shouted out a warning,

Dante decided—

Screw the subtle approach.

—even as the shriek of an alarm blasted through the night.

He rose from the shadows. Lifted his hands—and sent fire flying toward the thick fence and its barbed wire. The flames blasted right through that flimsy protection, and he walked straight ahead, clearing a path with his flames as he went.