He revved the motor. Rocks and dirt flew out behind him as the motorcycle sprang away from the patch of trees. He didn’t bother with the headlights. He could see just fine as he raced ahead.

Cassie’s body was warm and soft behind him. Alive.

Going after her—getting her back—had been his only thought when he’d risen from the flames. He’d always believed Cassie was his . . . his alone. But as the motorcycle pushed forward ever faster, a dark suspicion began to grow in his mind.

I was going to marry her.

Cassie hadn’t said the man was lying.

Her lover is sick. Not sick so much as transforming. If she can’t help her werewolf, she’ll lose him, and Cassie doesn’t want to lose Trace.

Cassie had said that she had to get to Mississippi. That there were those in that area who needed her.

Dante’s left hand rose and curled around her. He held her as tightly as she held him.

He’d seen much in his years on the earth. Things he hated. Beings he wanted to destroy.

He’d only once ever found something that he craved.

And he’d vowed to himself... once he realized just how important she was . . . that he would never let her go.

If Cassie had been lying to him, if she’d been part of his torture, she would pay.

But she would not get away from him.

The fire came to him, consuming, burning, destroying. The white-hot flames burned from the inside out, and as he died, Jon saw hell.

Monsters were there. Beasts made of flame who struck out at him. Hitting and slicing. He tried to fight—

Only to find that the flames surrounded him. Suffocated him.

He tried to open his mouth to scream.

But had no voice.

Only flames.

So many flames.

Rising and rising . . . burning . . . but not destroying. Not anymore.

Creating.

“Lieutenant Colonel!” A woman’s voice. Shouting. Shocked.

His eyes opened. At first, everything seemed tinted by red. By the fire.

He blinked, trying to clear his vision.

“What have you done?” the woman whispered. “Y-you were dead . . .”

He was standing, his body naked, a circle of flame around him.

He looked past the flames and saw a woman standing there. A woman with disheveled blond hair. Fear covered the delicate curves of her face. “You’re like him,” she said as she stumbled back a step.

Jon could only stare at her.

“The injection. What were you putting into your veins?” He lifted his hand.

“Do you . . .” She took another quick step back. “Do you even know who I am?”

His skin was unmarred. No blisters. No burns. He glanced down at his chest.

No bullet hole.

“Yes,” he said, speaking slowly, “I do know who you are.”

Even more, he knew what he was. The serum that he’d taken—so many of those painful doses—had actually worked.

He’d become like Dante. Only . . . better.

When Dante rose, his memory was often gone.

“I remember everything,” Jon whispered. The flames were still around him. He waved his hands. More fire appeared.

Beautiful fire. Red and gold and orange.

He heard voices shouting in the distance. The fear in those voices carried in the wind.

“It’s your men. They were running—”

Running away, instead of trying to stop Dante? “Where is . . . Cassandra?”

“He took her.”

While my men had cowered.

He started walking toward the sound of those shouts.

“Lieutenant Colonel?”

The blonde . . . Dr. Shaw. He could still use her. “Stay back,” Jon ordered. Things were about to get hot. If he accidentally killed the doctor, well, that would be unfortunate.

She froze.

He swept by her and let his fire grow.

“What are you doing?” Her horrified question followed him.

He didn’t respond. He just let the fire loose. Let it race toward the old base.

As the fire grew, the flush of power filled him. He could feel . . . something . . . inside himself. Something different from the beast he’d carried since his first experiment at Genesis.

This new creature was clawing at him with fire. Struggling to get out.

“You want out?” Jon asked as he lifted his hands. “Let’s see what you can do.”

He stopped fighting the beast and let it take him. The flames leaped from him as he surrendered. The buildings caught fire, an inferno that lit up the sky. Booms burst in the air, screams echoed.

Those who’d run and left him to his fate . . . had their own fiery fate waiting for them. But they wouldn’t rise.