“Are you . . . are you all right?” Shaw asked him carefully.

“Of course. I’m fine, I—”

She pointed to his arms. His face. “You have blisters on you. From the fire.”

He stilled. He hadn’t even felt the pain, but as he lifted his arms, he saw the marks that ran from his wrists to his elbows.

Phoenixes weren’t supposed to be hurt by the fire.

But then, he hadn’t been born a phoenix.

Shit. I need more injections.

More tears from a phoenix.

“Get that search going!” Jon snarled. He’d get his tears, either from Dante or . . .

The female phoenix.

The weak, nearly broken phoenix who had family in New Orleans. Jon hadn’t forgotten about her. If he couldn’t get to Dante, then he would get to her. In New Orleans, that phoenix had a foster family that he could use in order to get to her.

He would use anyone or anything if it suited his purposes.

And he would kill anyone or anything.

He stormed away from the others. He stared into the night. Cassie was out there, he knew it. With Dante.

Jon inhaled deeply, trying to pull in their scents. One of his first enhancements with Genesis had been his sense of smell. It was even better than a full-blooded wolf shifter’s.

Fucking better.

He inhaled and caught the coppery scent of blood.

Jon smiled. I’ve got you.

“Follow me!” he yelled to his men—those still alive, anyway. His fire had taken out five of them.

“Vaughn!”

Cassie broke through the clearing and saw the vampire on the ground. He was moaning, twisting. She rushed toward him—

And found herself jerked back by her phoenix.

“Vampire,” Dante said in her ear. “Don’t get close to him.”

But Vaughn seemed hurt. He wasn’t talking, just making a faint, moaning sound in his throat.

“Did he get burned?” Cassie whispered. She had to get a better look at him.

“I don’t smell burns on him.” Dante pulled her closer against his body. “Just blood. The vampire fed recently.”

Oh, no. Vaughn had gone into that tunnel right after Jamie and Charles. And it wasn’t like there were a whole lot of people running out in the night.

Footsteps pounded. Voices shouted.

“Men are coming,” Dante said. “We either kill them or we run.”

Okay, so there were a lot of people running out there.

“Vaughn. Vaughn, look at me,” Cassie commanded as desperation flooded through her.

Dante’s hold tightened. “Your voice. Sin . . . sweet . . .”

Cassie cleared her throat. Now probably wasn’t the best time to have a little chat about her voice. “Vaughn, look at me.”

His head lifted. The moonlight fell over him, revealing the deep lines of anguish on his face. “H-help . . . burns . . .”

There was blood on his mouth. Dripping down his chin. “Vaughn, who did you bite?”

“B-boy . . .”

Jamie?

Jamie’s blood had the antibodies in it. “I need to get closer to him.” She fought against Dante’s too-tight hold.

Dante’s mouth was near her ear. “That’s not happening. And those men are coming closer. Are they our enemies?”

“Yes.”

“Then I kill them.” He made it sound so simple. Absolute.

She frantically shook her head. Nothing was simple. “No.” There had been too much killing. The men with Jon, did they even understand what was happening? “They’re just following orders!”

“Then they need to think for themselves.”

Vaughn sank his fingers into the ground, trying to crawl toward her.

Dante sent a line of flame at him, blocking his path. “You don’t come near her.”

That fire lit Vaughn’s face and she saw—Cassie’s breath choked out. He didn’t have a mouthful of fangs. Not anymore. His canines were still too sharp, but his other teeth actually looked . . . normal.

“Burning . . . inside . . .” Vaughn muttered. He shook his head and lifted his hands to wrap around his stomach. “Hurts so much.”

His knife-like, black claws were gone. His fingers were normal again.

“It’s working,” Cassie said, the words heavy with excitement. The cure could revert the primal vampires. It. Was. Working.

“Fire!” The shout came from behind them.

“Let me kill them.” Dante’s breath blew lightly over her ear.

Cassie shook her head once more. There was another way. They could—