How absolutely perfect. The experiment had been even more productive than he could have hoped. This new development could open up a whole world of unexpected possibilities.
A perfect killing machine. An immortal assassin.
One that only he could control.
The experiment had been a definite success. He could hardly wait for tomorrow’s show to start.
Those flames were so beautiful. Would they burn Eve’s delicate skin? Or would Thirteen finally start to show his true strength?
For her sake, Thirteen had better hold on to his control. Because the lovely Eve wouldn’t just be an observer for tomorrow’s event.
She’d be a participant.
CHAPTER TWO
Eve slipped silently down the corridor that led to Subject Thirteen’s holding room. The facility was dead quiet—nearly everyone had retired for the night and the place was on lockdown.
She’d pretended to retire, too. Gone inside the staff dorms and made a big show of shutting down for the night. Then at 2:00 A.M., she’d known it was time to make her move.
Staff dorms—all the research personnel were given rooms at the facility. Once you took the job, you didn’t leave.
And how creepy was that?
Wyatt had said the lodging requirement was to keep his research protected. That all personnel would be well compensated for the time they spent at Genesis. But …
But she’d found a hidden camera in her dorm. Since when was it okay to video employees in their private rooms?
She crept around the corner. Thirteen’s room was just a few feet away. No guard at the door. Perfect. She’d go in, not get too close—didn’t want to burn, after all—and get his side of the story.
Then she’d see about getting them both out of there before anyone else knew what was happening.
They’d shot him. Actually freaking shot the guy. Why? Just to watch him die?
Wyatt was a twisted jerk, and she was getting this story to the press as fast as she could.
Her fingers trembled as she hurriedly punched in Wyatt’s security code. She’d always been good at memorization. One of her little quirks.
The lock slid open with a soft hiss. Fingers trembling, Eve pushed open the heavy metal door. The interior of Thirteen’s room was pitch black. The place reminded her of a tomb—she hated tombs.
No sound from inside reached her, and her breathing seemed far too ragged in that thick silence. But Eve tiptoed inside and made sure to seal the door behind her.
“Ah … hello?” she whispered as she crept into the room. “Can you—”
Rough hands grabbed her—one locking tight around her waist, one circling her throat—as she was hauled back against a rock-hard body.
A body that wasn’t still chained to the back wall.
She grabbed at the hand around her throat, struggling to suck in the breath he’d taken from her. “P-please …”
“Candy.” His growl. In the next instant, he’d spun her around and shoved her against a wall. Her eyes fought to adjust to the darkness, and, finally, she saw the dark image of Thirteen appear before her. A big, thick shadow that seemed to surround her as his arms caged her to the wall.
Wait, he was still chained. Only the chains stretched much longer now. Long enough for the guy to be strolling around the room and grabbing good Samaritans who were only trying to help him.
And he still had his hand around her throat. But he wasn’t trying to strangle her anymore. His fingers seemed to almost be … caressing her.
“L-let me go.” Better he not touch her at all. When a guy could do a serious flame-on, those hands of his needed to stay away from her person.
But he didn’t let her go. Crap. Eve held herself perfectly still and said, “Please. I’m here to help you.”
“If you’re one of them …” His voice was a grating whisper, such a threat in the dark, “then you’re just here for the latest game of torture.”
Eve shook her head. Wait. He could see that, couldn’t he? He’d seen through the two-way mirror. Surely he could see in the darkness.
“I … tried to stop them.” She had. Like it had done much good. But her words sounded weak. Should have tried harder.
He grunted. Okay, she could understand him not being grateful, particularly since he’d gotten shot in the heart and her help had done zero good.
“What are you?” The question slipped out. She couldn’t help it. Curiosity had always been a weakness for her—and one of the reasons she was a reporter.
Thirteen let his hand fall away. The chain slipped over his skin and rattled softly. “I’m someone you don’t want to piss off.”
Check. She got that. She’d actually gotten that part the minute the guy had burst into flames. “You said … you said you weren’t here willingly.”
He took a step back, distancing his body from hers. “Do they know you’re in here with me?”
“No.” Though she wasn’t sure how much longer that would last, so they needed to cut through some of the chitchat. “By the time they do, we’ll both be gone.”
He laughed then, a rough bark of sound.
Being alone with him in the dark was too intimate. Her senses were hyperaware of every move that he made. Every time the chain rattled, her body tensed.
“Just where do you think we’re going?” Thirteen wanted to know. “In case you didn’t notice, they’ve got me on a fucking leash.”
A leash that they obviously lengthened when they weren’t getting ready to shoot him. Interesting. She figured the chain must be able to lengthen or shorten from its feed in the wall. Eve exhaled slowly and tried to calm her heartbeat. No dice. “Wyatt is planning to … to drown you tomorrow.” Just saying the words had her stomach clenching.
He grunted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Uh, okay. “How about I’m damn good at picking locks?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her penlight. She flashed it on, and the light hit his chest. A bare chest. Rippling with muscles. Whoever—whatever—Thirteen was, the guy was seriously built.
She lowered the light to the chain that connected to his right wrist. “I can get you out of those.”
Silence.
“Don’t you want to get out?” Eve pressed because it wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d been expecting. “Or am I wrong? You said you didn’t volunteer—”
“I was sold into the program.”
That gave her pause. “Sold? What do you—”
“A soon-to-be-dead shifter named Jimmy Vance is making deals with Wyatt. Setting up paranormals for the bastard to collect and cashing in when we get caged.”
Her heart raced faster. “You’re saying there are others who aren’t here voluntarily, too?” That was what she’d suspected—why she’d risked so much to get inside Genesis.
“I’m saying the real experiments, the ones that Wyatt won’t let the world see … they’re all performed on those of us who are being kept prisoners.” He yanked on the chains and the metal groaned. “Tell me, do I really look like I’m here fucking voluntarily?”
“You’re so strong …” She wasn’t just talking about the he-man muscles. That fire-light show had been impressive. “Why can’t you just break out?”
“Fireproof.” He growled the words. “The walls are reinforced with steel and titanium and some damn other mix he created, and Wyatt made sure my own private hell could withstand any heat I sent at it.”
From what she’d seen, he could send plenty of heat.
She inched toward him and eased her lock-picking set from her pocket. Eve knew how to be prepared—though she’d never been a Girl Scout. More of a juvenile delinquent. “I want your promise that you won’t hurt me.” This was a risk, she knew that. Trusting him could be insanity.