He was playing the unfeeling bastard, but he wasn’t like that.

Softly, Eve said, “I know you.”

That brow stayed up. “Do you.” Not a question.

He’d revealed a bit of his past to her, and now the guy was shutting down. She shook her head again. It wasn’t going to work like that. “You won’t scare me away from you.”

He laughed at that. Actually laughed. A deep, husky laugh that made her feel strange. He’d never laughed before, had he? His lips were still curved in a smile. “Oh, Eve, I already know the truth about you. . . .”

No, he didn’t. She had a few secrets of her own.

“You’re f**king terrified of me.” His hand pressed against her chest. Over the swell of her breast and over the heart that raced too fast. His head lowered to her. His lips brushed over her ear. “But part of you likes that fear, don’t you?”

“No,” she gritted out. He didn’t understand her at all.

“Then why do you want me to f**k you, even now, even with all I’ve said . . .”

Two drives . . .

To mate.

To kill.

His breath blew lightly on her ear.

She wasn’t going to deny that she wanted him. It was like her body was tuned to his. One touch, and she needed. But the guy was seriously mistaken about her motives. “I don’t like the fear.” She felt it. Wouldn’t lie. “But I want you”—Eve’s lashes lifted, and she stared into his eyes—“in spite of that, not because of it.”

He blinked, and for an instant, seemed lost.

“So remember that,” she muttered and grabbed his head. She pulled him down toward her and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was fast, hard, frantic, and meant to prove a point.

Fear doesn’t make me want you less.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth. Tasted him. Felt the press of his fingers against her ass. She let the kiss linger, savoring for an instant, but . . . Eve pulled her lips from his. “All humans aren’t the same.” It was a lesson he needed to learn. “I’m not going to come at you with a knife in my hand.”

Another smile from him, but this one . . . this one made her heart hurt. “Yes, you will.” He pulled away and headed for the stairs.

Eve stared after him. She’d thought that she was the one with the trust issues. It looked like they both had to learn how to deal—fast.

Cain’s hand was on the banister. “We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

Looked like sharing time was definitely over. “Where are we going?”

Another step. “You’re going to a safe house. You’re out of the game.”

She wasn’t going to rush after him. “This isn’t a game.”

“I’ll take care of Wyatt.”

While she what? Sat in the corner like a good little girl? He obviously had her confused with someone else. Wyatt had come after her. He’d killed her friend. She wasn’t walking away from that guy. “I can help you.”

“You can get captured again. Tortured.” Cain turned back to her. “The fire doesn’t hurt you, but from what I can tell, everything else out there does.”

She swallowed. He was right.

His gaze raked her. “You know what I am. I didn’t keep that secret.”

No, he hadn’t.

“But baby, what the f**k are you?”

Eve stiffened. That hurt.

“If you die, will you burn and come back?” he asked her. “Are you like me?”

A phoenix. She lifted her chin. “If I am, does that mean you’ll want to kill me, too?”

He didn’t answer. Maybe that was an answer.

She tried to sound calm. “I’m not a threat to you, Cain.”

“Yes,” he bit out, “you are.”

“Why?”

“Because a phoenix can only die—truly die—in that one moment when the fire rises and pulls us from the ashes. When we’re coming back and the flames surround us . . . we’re vulnerable.”

But those flames burned so hot.

“Most can’t touch us then. Most . . .”

Eve understood. Other phoenixes would be able to reach through the fire.

“In that one instant,” Cain said, “we can truly die. And not come back.”

A vulnerability. He shouldn’t be telling her this. Why was he telling her this?

“That’s why we kill our own kind. Phoenixes . . . we’re the only ones who can stand the fire. The only ones who can reach through the flames to kill.”