Did the guy even hear what he was saying?

Wyatt kept talking. “I’m human, with the strength of a shifter, the healing ability of a demon, and the speed”—he moved in a blur, coming right in front of her—“of a f**king vampire.”

He reached for her. But Eve had her gun dead center against his forehead. “Unfortunately for you,” she whispered, “I know how to kill them all.”

He grabbed for the gun.

I’m sorry, Trace.

Eve pulled the trigger.

The thunder of the gun froze Cain. He tossed the werewolf aside and raced back down the hallway. “Eve!”

He couldn’t hear anything from Wyatt’s office. Just silence. Thick and dark and total.

He shoved aside the remains of the door. Saw Eve and breathed again. She was standing near Wyatt’s desk, holding a gun. Wyatt was on the ground with a giant hole in his forehead. A pool of blood was forming around his body.

“Want to hand me a piece of that wood?” Eve asked, inclining her head toward Cain and the smashed chair near his feet. “As a precaution, I really think we need to stake this bastard.”

He grabbed the wood and tossed it lightly in his hand. Rushing forward, he shoved the stake into Wyatt’s chest. The not-so-good doctor didn’t move.

“And that’s how you die,” Eve whispered as she pushed back her hair. “Even if you are the best experiment out there.”

Cain grabbed her hand. “Time to go.” The mad scientist was dead, and they needed to get to safety.

But Eve shook her head. “It doesn’t end with him, don’t you see that? More scientists will just come along. They’ll use his research. Genesis will continue.”

He knew that. There were always monsters out there. Some of those monsters just happened to wear the bodies of men and white lab coats.

Eve pulled away from him. “I’m taking proof.” She snatched up what looked like syringes from the desk and grabbed a black briefcase. She shoved the syringes in the case and yanked files from Wyatt’s desk. “I am blowing this story wide open.” She grabbed for a flash drive—

The howl from the hallway froze them both. Eve’s shoulders stiffened. “Trace,” she whispered.

What was left of him.

“Stay here,” Cain told her. He actually thought Trace was trying to get to Eve. The beast had been fighting viciously to get down that hallway.

To Eve?

Not on his watch.

He ran back into the hallway. Trace was facing off against the other phoenix. His claws were up. He leaped forward.

Ryder grabbed his feet and sent the werewolf tumbling to the ground.

The phoenix let her fire out. Ryder jumped back and the flames circled Trace, closing in. He howled and swiped out, seeming to be confused. Lost.

“No,” Eve’s shout came from beside Cain. “You can’t do this to him!”

She tried to shove by Cain, but he grabbed her arm, holding her back. “It’s not my fire.”

Trace’s head jerked toward them. His face was human, but the eyes that locked on them were pure beast. He snarled and charged at the fire.

Leaped over the fire.

The werewolf was coming right at them.

Ryder screamed for the other female—the phoenix—to get out of the way. Trace kept charging, rushing with his claws up and his fangs bared.

Cain shoved Eve behind his back, then put up a wall of flames in front of them. He hadn’t wanted to do this, not with Eve watching, but there wasn’t a choice. . . .

The werewolf wasn’t stopping, so Cain had to stop him. He pushed out with his fire. The flames bit into Trace’s arm. Another howl. More cries and . . . the werewolf turned away. He ran toward the far end of the hallway and jumped through the window. Glass shattered.

Eve shoved Cain aside as she tried to race toward that window. But Cain was with her every step of the way. He knew they’d find the werewolf ’s broken body below, and he hated for her to witness that sight.

She beat him to the window. There was no shielding her.

There was also no werewolf below.

Just broken glass. Guards swarming. No, guards fighting for their lives. The supernaturals were definitely out. Someone had opened the cages and let the monsters out.

Cain glanced back over his shoulder and tensed. The female phoenix had been cut by the werewolf ’s claws. He could see the dark blood staining her shirt and the wounds that ripped into her stomach. Ryder had her in his arms, holding her tight.

But Cain could tell she wouldn’t survive those wounds. Death would come for her, then a rising. “Can you handle her?” he demanded.