Even in the faint light cast from the moon and stars, the hope that lit his face was painful to see.

Dante was still swearing.

“Is he . . . What is he?” Jamie asked as he wiped his hands over his cheeks. She suspected that the boy was wiping away tears.

“I’m not a hero,” Dante said flatly.

No, he isn’t. “He’s the man who’ll keep us safe.”

Dante glanced at her but was silent. After a moment, he gave a grim nod.

Jamie’s breath rushed out then he was running and leading them toward the old pick-up.

He climbed into the bed of the truck.

Cassie slid into the front with Dante.

He caught her hand. “Why?”

She frowned at him.

“Why do you care about saving people?”

When your family business was wrecking lives, you have a whole lot to make up for. “I didn’t save those vampires.”

“The only way to save them was death.”

She flinched. “There has to be more than that, even for vampires.”

His hold tightened. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want my family to have only been monsters, okay?” Is that so crazy? “I want to help, not destroy everything I touch.”

His touch was warm against her flesh. Heating with the phoenix’s power. “Why not?” His voice had hardened. “It’s what I do.” His hand pulled away from hers. “After a while, you might even start to like the destruction.”

No, she wouldn’t.

And she didn’t think he did, either.

“How the hell am I supposed to start this thing?” Dante snarled. “There’s no key.”

She leaned forward. Pushed under the dash. Her cheek pressed against his thigh.

Dante stilled.

Her fingers fumbled with the wires, and, in a few seconds, she had the engine sparking to life.

She pulled back, aware that his thigh felt rock-hard.

“How’d you do that?” His voice was low.

Cassie swallowed. “I’ve got a few tricks you don’t know about.”

His hand rose to her arm. She flinched. She was still bleeding.

“Yes,” he said softly, consideringly, “you do.”

Cassie scooted as far away from him as she could.

But she could feel the heat of his gaze sweeping over her.

“Get back on the highway, keep driving straight until I tell you to turn.” They could sleep in shifts, and make it back to her base sooner.

Silently, he followed her orders. The black pavement started to disappear beneath the truck’s wheels.

She tore part of her shirt away and wrapped up her arm. It seemed like a trend for her—using clothing to bind her wounds. But hey, it worked. When she had the wound covered, Cassie leaned her head against the window’s glass, staring out at the night that waited.

So much for an easy pit stop.

The boy was behind them, silent in the bed of the truck. Why hadn’t he tried to get up in the front with them?

Because he’s probably terrified of us. Right. She didn’t blame him for that. Especially since he’d no doubt watched her kill his brother.

Lately, she’d started to scare herself.

“What will you do if you can’t save them?”

She jerked at Dante’s voice.

“The shifter that waits for you . . . what if you can’t save him?”

“I will save him.”

Dante shook his head. “That’s not an answer, you know.”

No, it wasn’t. Because she didn’t have an answer.

“Will you be able to put him down? Sometimes, death is the only cure.”

She didn’t want to think about that, but . . . Dante was right. She looked down at her injured arm. Death is the only cure.

CHAPTER NINE

It didn’t look like much of a lab to Dante.

He braked the truck. Checked the scrawled directions that Cassie had given to him before she’d passed out. Yes, it was the place.

It looked like a hole-in-the-wall.

His head turned, and he glanced down at Cassie. She was beside him, her head sagging on his shoulder. The boy had finally asked to come up front when the sun rose, and they’d all crammed in together.

The boy hadn’t slept though.

Not that Dante blamed the kid. When you watched your family die, it didn’t usually put you in the mood for sleep.

“What did she do to him?” Jamie asked, his voice a whisper. It was the first time the kid had talked to him since he’d joined their little road trip from hell.