She looked up. He’d yanked open his shirt to stare down at the bullet wound. Only . . . the wound was closing. Wyatt’s eyes were bright and wild and he was lifting his gun to aim it at her.

Richard Wyatt wasn’t human. Or, at least, he wasn’t anymore. Eve realized the scientist had been playing Frankenstein with his own body. Just what had he become?

Eve targeted her own weapon on him. So the first shot hadn’t done any good. Maybe the next would.

She fired the gun, even as he did. But his bullets didn’t hit her. Trace had lunged up. The silver bullets thudded into his chest. He grunted and fell back. Wyatt kept firing, until his empty gun clicked.

“One protector down,” Wyatt muttered. He didn’t seem fazed by the growing fire. The guards had backed up, getting away from the fire, but they had their weapons ready. The sprinklers burst on from overhead, drenching everyone in the hallway. Eve stayed crouched on the floor, but Cain stalked forward.

Her bullets had hit Wyatt, but the man was still on his feet.

“Science can beat the supernatural,” Wyatt said, sounding perfectly normal, as if he hadn’t been shot multiple times. “What we can do is amazing, really.”

Cain reached through the flames and grabbed Wyatt. As she watched, Cain snapped the man’s neck. Wyatt fell to the floor.

Her breath choked out. Over. Just like that, Wyatt was dead.

“Come on!” Cain grabbed Eve’s hand and pulled her to her feet as he sent a rush of fire at the remaining guards. “Get the hell out of here!” he yelled at them.

They scrambled. Didn’t even try to fight. With the fire raging, how could she blame them?

Snap.

Eve stiffened. Even over the flames, she’d heard that sound. Bones snapping. Popping.

She glanced over her shoulder. Wyatt was standing up again. Tilting his head from side to side as he popped the bones of his neck back in place.

“Nice try,” he murmured, his eyes on Cain. “Now it’s my turn.”

But instead of coming at them, he jumped back.

Just as all the guards were heading back. Carefully moving away from them.

Trap. Eve knew it, too late.

The floor began to tremble beneath them. No, not just tremble. Move.

No wonder the guards were backing up. She glanced over her shoulder. The stairwell had been sealed off. Armed guards stood in front of the door. The floor beneath them, holy hell, the floor was opening, opening . . .

Cain grabbed Eve and hauled her toward the nearest wall. There was only darkness in that growing hole. The hole that had once been the floor.

“Trace!” She screamed his name as she saw his body fall into that black pit.

The entire floor seemed to break loose. She and Cain fell, tumbling down into the darkness below. He held her as they dropped, wrapping his body around hers. When they hit the bottom, she felt the thud of the impact vibrate through their bodies.

They’d fallen into darkness. Complete and total darkness. Cain’s head and back had slammed into the floor, but he didn’t ease his grip on her. His hands tightened.

Eve’s hands slid around him. She could feel . . . stone beneath them, and she heard the sound of breathing. Rough. Raspy breathing.

Something grated overhead. She looked up. “No!”

The light above her vanished as the area closed off once more. Wyatt had sealed them in.

Cain groaned beneath her. Something . . . else groaned from the darkness.

They were locked in, but they weren’t alone.

“F-fire, Cain,” she whispered into his ear. He was hurt beneath her. She knew it. The fall had been brutal. Too long. At least three stories. They’d fallen straight down.

Her hands found his face. Smoothed over his cheek. Pushed into his hair. She felt the sticky wetness of his blood. No.

The breaths around her grew stronger. “T-Trace?” He hadn’t been moving when he’d fallen. Hadn’t appeared to even be alive. Could that breathing be him?

More groans. No, growls. Coming from the left. The right.

Not Trace. Eve’s own breath choked out. “Please, Cain,” she whispered, holding him tight, “I need the fire.” She needed to see. Had to see what was coming for them in the dark.

Something touched her hair. Eve whirled. She still had her gun. “Get back!”

Pain sliced across her back. Eve screamed. Something had . . . clawed her. “Stay away from us!” Cain wasn’t moving. Still breathing, but she knew he was hurt badly. Was he dying? “Cain?”

She felt the tightness of his muscles beneath her hand. He was trying to move, but he couldn’t. “Just a little fire,” Eve whispered. Begged. “I need to see . . .”