Sabine. He hadn’t seen her in so long, not since she’d come to town with her vampire lover and—

“Ahh!” Vaughn cried out.

Jon had just shoved his burning hand onto Vaughn’s chest.

“I’m the phoenix,” Jon shouted at him, spittle flying from his mouth. “And if you say one more thing to piss me off, you’ll just be the latest vampire that I burned to ash.”

Vaughn’s flesh began to melt away. He clenched his teeth and refused to cry out again.

“Please!” Shaw said, voice breaking. “He’s the cure.”

Jon let his hand linger. Let the fire burn deeper, scorching muscles.

“Let him go,” Shaw cried.

With a grim smile, Jon lifted his hand. “He doesn’t have to stay alive. Cassie’s the cure. Cassie can replicate it. Cassie and that f**king fantastic mind of hers. I just need Cassie.” There was something in his voice—a desperation that pushed the edge of sanity.

Right, like that dude was sane. The pyro looked like he’d lost touch with sanity long ago.

Just like I had.

“Where did she go?” Jon demanded.

“I know where you can go,” Vaughn yelled right back.

Jon’s jaw clenched. “Let’s see just how much pain he can handle.”

Shaw was so pale. Pale and shaking, but she lifted her scalpel and came toward Vaughn.

“Lady, don’t! That’s the last damn thing you want to be doin’,” he bit out, trying to reach her.

But she raised the scalpel.

Jon’s hand flew out and wrapped around her wrist. She gasped, and Vaughn knew she’d just gotten burned.

“Did I just hear . . .” Jon asked, smiling, “the South in your voice?” That smile stretched as his gaze settled on Vaughn’s face. “If I’m not wrong, that’s . . . New Orleans.”

Fuck.

“I’ve always been good with voices, and that was just a little bit of Creole there.” He dropped the woman’s hand. “I know who you are, vampire.”

Good for you.

“Vaughn Adams. Your father Keith contacted me a while back about a female phoenix he wanted to cure.” Jon shook his head. “Everyone is always so stuck on cures.”

Sabine. Vaughn tried to keep his expression blank but his whole body went on high alert.

“You father knew the little phoenix well, just like you did.”

Vaughn didn’t like the way the guy’s eyes had lit up.

“I need her,” Jon gritted.

“And I need the hell off this table!” Vaughn cried.

“Cassie went to her, didn’t she? New Orleans is close. She has friends there, probably a safe house. She ran there.”

Vaughn hoped that she hadn’t. But he suspected—yes.

Jon’s gaze bored into his. “You are going to help me draw her out.”

“No, no, I’m—”

“Or I’ll kill your father. I’ll kill your mother. Your aunts, uncles. Every one.”

Shaw dropped the scalpel and scurried back.

“But . . .” Jon lifted a brow. “You help me find Cassie and that female phoenix, and I’ll let you go.”

Did Vaughn look like a dumbass? The guy was not going to let him get away.

“Your choice,” Jon said. “You help me, or you burn.”

It was going to hurt, so Vaughn braced himself. “Bring on the fire, bastard.”

And he did.

Cassie paced the length of the den, her hands nervously fisted at her sides. They still had an hour until midnight. Would the others be at the rendezvous point?

If they weren’t, she had no idea how to find them.

“Are you sure that you can trust Keith Adams?” Dante asked her.

She jumped at the rumble of his voice. She’d thought that he was still in the kitchen. Cassie turned and saw that he was leaning up against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on her.

“I think so, yes.” She gave a nod, just to try and emphasize that point. She sure hoped she could trust the man. At this stage, it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. She’d told Dante a bit about Vaughn earlier and thought to tell him more. “Once he found out what Genesis was really doing, Keith wanted to help the paranormals. He . . .”

Okay, she should probably be careful with this reveal.

“He’s the one who sent Sabine to us.” She paused and searched Dante’s gaze. “Do you remember her?”

“I remember everything.”