Eve’s eyes were on Cain. He reached for the phone. “She has protection.”

“Who is this?” Roberts demanded.

“Her protection.”

“Leave that job to the cops, buddy.”

“If I do that, you’ll all just die.” Brutal words. True words. “I’m coming for the wolf.”

Eve straightened her shoulders. No, they were coming.

Cain hung up the phone.

Her heart was still beating too fast.

“Eve . . .”

“I want to try and save him.” She didn’t know how yet. She just had to try. “Cain, I was alone my whole life, okay? After my parents died . . .” Because of Genesis and Wyatt’s twisted father “. . . I never felt like I had any family. Until Trace.”

Cain’s jaw tightened. He eased from her body. Dressed in silence.

So did she. “He was the closest thing to a brother I ever had. Trace always had my back. He watched out for me, and I watched out for him.”

Cain was staring at her. Just . . . waiting.

“I can’t give up on him.” She wouldn’t. “We can help him.” Someway. If some toxic mix of drugs had made him like this, there had to be a drug combination that could pull him back.

“We’ll help him,” Cain agreed.

Yes.

“We’ll contain him and make sure that he doesn’t hurt any humans.”

Right. Containment, then cure. They could do this.

“But if he turns on you, Eve, if he tries to kill you . . .”

She shook her head. “It’s not coming to that.” Even she knew the words were a lie. He’d already tried to kill her twice.

But she still saw him as the seventeen-year-old boy she’d found on the side of the road. Alone. Just as lost as she was.

They’d needed each other.

They’d become a family.

You didn’t turn your back on family.

Because of that, because she had to have hope for Trace, Eve asked, “Do the tears of a phoenix . . . can they really heal?”

Cain glanced up at her. His gaze was hooded.

“Wyatt . . . said that he wasn’t able to make you cry.” No matter what torture the sick freak had used. “But he thought your tears could heal . . .”

Maybe they could heal Trace. Maybe they wouldn’t need drugs to bring the werewolf back to them.

Cain shook his head, and the hope of a swift healing died within Eve. “Those stories have always been out there, the whispers that my kind can heal.” His lips twisted. “But the thing is . . . those tales are freaking bull. We can’t cry.”

Eve stared at him.

“Wyatt tried, all right. Every trick he could think of. No matter how much pain he gave me, it didn’t work. The bastard even came up with some scientific shit about my tear ducts being abnormal, non-functioning. Hell yeah, they’re non-functioning . . . my eyes burn with my power. My body doesn’t work like a human’s ’cause I’m not. Never will be.”

She nodded. “I figured he was wrong. I just . . .” Hoped. “We’ll find another way.” There had to be another way.

“I can’t shed tears. There’s no healing power in me. There’s just the beast I carry, Eve. The one who lives for fire and destruction.” Cain stalked toward her, his steps slow and heavy. “There are some other things you need to understand.”

She waited, body full of nervous energy.

“You are my priority. If Trace comes at you with his claws and fangs, I’ll take the werewolf out.”

She’d have to make sure that didn’t happen. Just as she’d have to make sure that she did find a way to cure Trace. A way that didn’t involve a phoenix’s magic.

Eve turned away, grabbing for her bag, but Cain’s fingers closed around her arm. “You aren’t alone.” The words were gruff. “No matter what happens, you won’t be alone.” His lips brushed over hers.

When he stepped back to release her, Eve grabbed his hand. She didn’t know what would happen, but she needed to tell him how she felt. “Cain, I love you.”

He just stared back at her.

She’d been hoping for a better reaction.

Her chin lifted. “And you aren’t alone, either, understand?”

She wasn’t sure he did. The guy looked pretty shell-shocked. Eve smiled at him. Her phoenix. He’d understand, soon enough. She’d make him. “One day, I’m getting you on that beach . . .”

Not today. Today, they had a werewolf to catch.