“No,” Cain said. “Eve is in the lab.”

With Cassie and the werewolf. “Why would you let her be near the wolf?”

“Because that wolf was her best friend once, and I owe him. I’ll do anything I can in order to make him better.”

Again, surprising Dante.

“Would you even give up a phoenix’s tears?”

“I’d give up anything to make Eve happy.” Said simply and without any hesitation.

Dante frowned at him.

“Now, are we going to rip each other to pieces or what?” Cain asked, sounding bored. “Because I need to get back to Eve’s side.”

Dante wanted to get back to Cassie’s side. Except, she’d imprisoned him.

Cain slanted him an accessing gaze. “You hurt her, you know.”

“I did not touch your Eve—”

“No, not Eve. Your Cassie. You hurt her.” Cain gave a quick shake of his head. “Not physically, but inside, maybe where the pain can be the worst. Especially for someone like her.”

Despite what Cassie had said earlier, Dante realized that Cain knew exactly what she was. “Do you hear her song? When she speaks, do you—”

“The power rarely slips into her voice. It’s like she’s not aware of it.”

Because she wasn’t.

“When she gets stressed or nervous, it comes through.” Cain paused. “It was damn powerful when she was up on the surface and trying to soothe Trace.”

Yes, it had been.

“I’d heard stories about her kind,” Cain said, “but I’d never met one, not until her. It took me a while to realize what was happening.”

That was a siren’s power. Before you knew what she was doing, you were already under the spell of her song.

“Is it true that a siren can make you feel the same emotion she feels? When she’s happy, her words make you happy, and when she’s sad . . . she can gut you?” Cain asked.

“Yes.” The word sighed from Dante.

Cassie was sad. That would explain why Dante felt like someone had shoved a knife into his stomach, and twisted it.

“You aren’t going for my throat,” Cain pointed out as he rolled his shoulders. “Are you waiting for me to make the first move?”

“I killed my own brother,” Dante began.

“Uh, yeah. I heard rumors about that bit . . .”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “But only after he came at me. I will do you . . . the same courtesy.” For Cassie. Because the phoenix held value to her. Because I broke her trust. He’d acted on instinct and was afraid that act might have cost him something precious. “You can live, until the moment you come at me with death in your eyes.”

Surprise flickered over Cain’s face. “I don’t want your death. We work for the cure, then we go our own separate ways. You won’t see me again, and I won’t see you.”

Cain also understood how dangerous phoenixes were to their own kind.

“You’ve killed other phoenixes,” Dante said.

“Some don’t want to listen to reason. They attack first, without waiting to see if an enemy is really at their door.”

Ah, yes, he saw that hit for exactly what it was.

“Some let their beasts rule them.” Cain’s stare was hard. “Do you rule your beast? Or does he rule you?”

“It depends on the day.”

Cain blinked.

Dante strolled by him. He was ready to ditch that cell. He needed to find Cassie. They had to talk. Had to clear the air between them.

I might have to grovel some. Humiliating, but he’d try it, for her.

Cain had conveniently left the door unlocked. Another point in the fellow’s favor. If Dante weren’t so worried about dying by the man’s hand, he might—

Cassie’s blood.

There was no mistaking the scent. No mistaking her. He whirled back around to face the other phoenix. “What have you done?” Tricked him, kept him busy—while Cassie suffered?

Cain shook his head. “I didn’t—”

Dante locked him in the cell and raced toward that scent. With every frantic footstep, the scent deepened.

He shoved open the doors to the lab.

Eve jumped up, yelping. She had on latex gloves—gloves that were stained with Cassie’s blood.

“You . . .” Dante began as he closed in on her.

“Stop.” Cassie’s voice. Weak but steady. “I . . . asked her to do it.”

She was on the exam table. So pale.