There was something between them. Death, yes. Hate? Betrayal? Maybe.

Something.

She moaned softly, and he didn’t like the sound of pain on her lips. He found himself leaning forward and tucking the pillow beneath her head.

When he bent forward, she screamed. The sound was high and desperate and absolutely terrified. She tried to bolt from the bed.

He couldn’t have that, so he caught her arms and—as gently as he could—pushed her back against the mattress. “Easy.”

At his voice, her scream died away. Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. Her gaze wasn’t clear as it had been before. Instead, her green gaze was hazy, a little lost.

“Dante?” Cassie whispered his name. Smiled. “I missed you.”

His heartbeat seemed too loud. That smile of hers . . . yeah, she was f**king beautiful, all right. And dangerous.

She was also trying to lean up and kiss him.

What had been in that drug?

“You left me,” she told him, voice husky, “and I thought you were supposed to—” Cassie broke off, blinking. Then she groaned and shook her head. “Where the hell am . . . I?” Her voice wasn’t quite as husky, but he still found that he liked the sound.

“Not hell,” he told her as he eased back a bit. “Just a cheap motel.”

When he moved back, Cassie bolted upright, then winced. “My shoulder . . .” Her right hand lifted and touched the wound. “They shot me.”

Yes, they had. And they’d almost died for that crime. He didn’t know why the fury had blasted through him so hard, but it had.

“They shot me,” she whispered again, then she shoved against his chest. “Get away from me!”

He rose slowly. “You’re welcome. Maybe next time, I’ll just leave you on the floor.” The words were deliberately cold and brutal, but she didn’t even seem to have heard him.

She was climbing from the bed, nearly falling on her face. He locked his body and refused to go to her. If she was so desperate to get away from him—

Wait. Why would she want to leave? She’d been the one to seek him out. He frowned.

“They’re coming . . .”

He heard her whisper as she ran into the bathroom. Then there was the sound of drawers being opened. Slammed shut.

He glanced toward the motel room door. She’d told him to get away from her. There was no need for him to stay with her any longer.

Yes, there is. She knows about my past.

“I want answers,” he said, raising his voice so that she’d have to hear him over her mutters—

And the sound of breaking glass.

What was happening in the bathroom? He hurried to it and saw that, no, it hadn’t been glass shattering. It had been the mirror behind the sink. Cassie had driven her small fist into it. Blood dripped from the knuckles of her right hand.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer. Just picked up a big, triangular shaped chunk of the mirror—and shoved the sharp edge into her left shoulder.

“Cassie!” He grabbed her hand and yanked the chunk back out.

She whimpered at the pain and tried to fight him.

He just held her tighter. “Is it the drug they gave you? Is it making you do this?” The scent of her blood was driving him crazy. Pissing him off. “Dammit, stop.”

Her breath heaved out. “They’re coming.”

Yeah, he’d heard her say that before.

“There’s a tracking device in me. When they shot me”—she sucked in a deep, pain-filled breath—“it implanted. I have to get it out, or they’ll get me.”

“So you decide to do emergency surgery on yourself with a chunk of glass?”

“I don’t . . . have a lot of options.” Her lips trembled and twisted into a faint smile. “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor.”

That smile shouldn’t have made his heartbeat kick up. It did.

He could only shake his head. “You’re an insane woman who is bleeding all over the place.” Grabbing a washcloth, he shoved it against her shoulder. “You’re probably going to get an infection and—” He broke off. How did he know about infections? He knew how to drive a car, how to talk in French, how to beat the hell out of anyone who tried to give him a rough time.

But he had no actual memories of his life. Well, except for those dreams of her . . . killing me.

“D-don’t worry. I never get infections. I can’t.”

Such a lie. Humans could catch anything. They’re weak. The knowledge was there, inside him, coming from the man he’d been before that dirty alley.