Cain glanced toward the chains. She saw his face tighten and knew he was remembering his own time with Genesis.

“You putting him in those?” he asked, voice flat.

“No.” She’d never thought she would actually be the one locking Dante up. But she’d thought wrong. “The room will be secure enough. It’s fireproof. He won’t be getting out unless we let him out.”

Cain nodded.

Cassie glanced down at Dante once more. His eyelashes cast dark shadows beneath his eyes. His face was still tense and hard, even when he was unconscious. As if he never let down his guard.

Why? Why did you do this, Dante?

She’d trusted him. In just a few moments time, he’d destroyed that trust. From sex to betrayal in five minutes flat. What girl was supposed to handle that?

“We need to get back to Trace,” she said, squaring her shoulders. She’d drugged him already, dosing him with tranqs that had stopped his shift, but she still needed to treat the wounds on his body.

She noticed that Cain made sure she exited and then he came out after her, swinging the heavy metal door shut behind them.

And sealing Dante inside.

Cassie lifted her chin and tried to act like Dante hadn’t just killed a part of her.

If only she were a better actress.

They went back to her lab. Eve was helping to patch up Charles. Poor Charles. The man looked shell-shocked.

“Are you going to leave?” she asked him quietly.

Charles had been Cassie’s assistant for so long. His half-sister had been a shifter, one who’d been taken into the Genesis program on a very much not voluntary basis. By the time Charles had found her, it had been too late. She’d been broken by what Genesis had done to her.

Kerri had taken her own life.

He’d wanted to work with Cassie, to help others like Kerri, but there was fear in his eyes now.

“I think this is all too much for me,” Charles muttered. “I thought I could handle it, but the ones here are just too strong. Too dangerous.”

Wasn’t that what Cassie’s father had told her? That some of the paranormals were too strong and dangerous? That they had to be put down for the protection of the humans? She hadn’t wanted to believe he could be right.

And she hadn’t wanted to believe that Dante would betray her, either.

“If you want to leave,” Cassie said, holding Charles’s gaze, “I understand.”

Charles nodded. His gaze drifted away from hers, and she knew . . . Charles would be leaving soon. There was too much fear in his posture.

And too much blood on his clothes.

He’d come close to dying, and she knew that he didn’t want to join Kerri in death.

Cassie glanced toward her operating table. Heavy metal strips closed over Trace’s arms, legs, and chest. A mask was over his face, and the drug that he was being given was designed to keep him out.

Stable, comfortable, and definitely out.

Charles shuffled out of the room. Cassie bit her lip and didn’t stop him. He had been her confidant, and because she liked him so much, she couldn’t stop him.

If he wanted to walk away and forget monsters for a time, didn’t he deserve that chance?

When the doors slid closed behind him, her shoulders hunched a bit.

“What happened?” Eve asked as she crept closer to Cassie. “The last report that you sent said Trace was getting better.”

“He was . . . ”

“You also didn’t mention in that report,” Cain said, voice hard, “that you had a homicidal phoenix waiting to kill me.”

She flinched. “I didn’t know. Dante said he would help me.”

“He lied.”

Yes, he had.

“He’s the oldest phoenix I’ve ever met,” Cassie said as she rolled her shoulders, trying to push some of her tension away. “I thought his DNA would be the key I needed in order to find a cure—”

Eve brushed her fingers across Trace’s forehead. “He’s not going to ever be the same, is he?”

The same? “No, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still have a good life.”

Eve nodded and kept caressing his forehead. A tear slid down her cheek.

“I don’t understand how he got out.” Cassie glanced around the room and her gaze lit on the smashed remains of the closet.

She’d been in that closet, calling for help. Screaming for help.

The memory of Trace’s rough voice slipped through her mind. Help . . . Cass . . . She stilled. Was it even possible? No, no. Surely he hadn’t heard her—