Her father staggered back a step. “I-I didn’t know, I swear! One of my old army buddies, he worked for them. He said they were going to make the world better. I just wanted you to be normal. To be like everyone else.”

“The funny thing, Dad, is that I thought I was normal.” Until he’d served her up to those sadistic bastards. “If you hadn’t told them about me, then Genesis would have never come for me. I wouldn’t have burned . . . if it hadn’t been for you.” And she didn’t even want to look at him. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. It hurt too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. Her gaze darted to Ryder. “Rhett’s missing. I’m going to find him.”

“We are,” Ryder immediately corrected her.

If Ryder hadn’t been there, she might have let the tears fall. She might have just broken. Pain twisted inside her, cutting like a knife. But Ryder was there. His fingers curled around hers. He was steady and solid and strong.

She stared into his eyes. Remembered the hell they’d faced. Remembered the hell they’d survived. Together.

Genesis hadn’t broken her.

Genesis hadn’t broken him.

They’d fought, together, and they’d keep fighting that way.

So she didn’t break. She pulled in several deep, frantic breaths. Ryder’s hold tightened on her.

In a world turned upside down, she found herself relying on the monster that most would fear.

He’s not a monster.

Sabine realized that she didn’t think of Ryder that way, not anymore.

He was her lover. He was her partner.

He was . . . more?

“I-I talked to Rhett this evening.” Her father’s voice was lost. “He was f-fine then.”

“You talked to him before a fire tore through The Rift, and before someone hijacked the ambulance he was in and shot one of the EMTs.” Her own voice sounded so calm. Odd, when she felt anything but calm. Turning away, she told him, “Get out of town. Go to wherever it is that you’ve got Mom stashed. Stay until all of this is over.”

Mom. Thinking about her mother just hurt too much then.

Sabine forced herself to take slow, determined steps toward the front door. Ryder shadowed her every move.

She wanted out of the house. But a hand on her shoulder froze her.

“You were two when I found you,” her father said, his hand trembling against her shoulder. “You were floating face down in the river.”

Sabine River. Yes, she knew where she’d been found.

“You should have been dead. I rolled you over . . .” He turned her to face him. “And I saw fire burning in your eyes. A baby . . . with burning eyes.”

She didn’t want to hear any more from him.

“I loved you like you were my own. You are my own.”

A child he’d sold to the devil. “How much did they pay you?” Sabine asked because she knew he’d gotten something from the deal.

“Nothing.”

Her life had been worth nothing?

“I wanted them to fix you, baby. I saw the fire again and again over the years—it would flare in your eyes whenever you got real angry, and I was so afraid of what would happen the moment you lost your control. I’d heard stories of others like you. Supernaturals that were too dangerous to be around humans. Evil. I didn’t want you to turn out like them. I wanted to help you.” His voice broke.

So did her heart.

“Get out of town,” she told him, the last time she’d give her father the warning. “And tell Mom . . .” She had to clear her throat. Had to choke back the lump of pain and fury that had risen. “Tell her anything but the truth.” Because she didn’t want to hurt her mother.

“I-I can’t leave Rhett—”

“Leave on your own,” Ryder told him, his tone lethal, “or I’ll have my vamps drain you and drag your limp body out of this town.”

She knew the words weren’t an idle threat. Her father knew it, too. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the knowledge blazed in his eyes.

Eyes that still watched her with a sad desperation.

“Good-bye, Dad,” she whispered as she walked across the porch and into the yard. Sabine expected Ryder to follow right on her heels.

But he didn’t follow.

“Tell me the name of that old army buddy,” Ryder’s tight demand.

“N-no.”

A thud. Sounded like a fist hitting a wall. Her eyes squeezed shut as her shoulders stiffened. “Don’t hurt him, Ryder. He’s . . . he’s still my father.” The tears fell then, because she couldn’t hold them back any longer. She could even taste the salt of the tears on her lips. “And I still love him.” Maybe he had thought to help her. Maybe he’d thought . . .