Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire #1)(104)

Of course not.

To him, she could have been any stranger off the street.

Don’t let it hurt. Don’t. Dante couldn’t help what he was.

But he could get the hell away from that trashy vamp.

The vampire spun toward Cassie and hissed. Wait. Hissed, really?

Cassie barely controlled an eye roll.

“Get lost,” the vamp told her, baring her fangs. “He’s mine.”

Think again.

Cassie’s hands were clenched into fists, and it took all her self-control not to swing out at the chick. “No, he’s not.” Said definitely. She looked past the vampire. “Dante, we need to leave.”

He stiffened.

That’s right. I know your name. Why, oh, why can’t you know something about me? Anything?

But that was the way it always was for them.

She kept holding Dante’s gaze. “Trust me on this,” Cassie said. “You don’t want her sinking those fangs into you.” Dante’s blood was special, and rather addictive to vampires. If the redhead got one sip, she wouldn’t be backing away from him anytime soon.

Then I’d have to stake her. Oh, what a pity.

“Dante, we can—” Cassie’s words ended in a gasp.

The vampire had lunged forward and wrapped her hand around Cassie’s throat. With that one hand, she lifted Cassie off her feet. “Maybe I’ll just sink my fangs into you, bitch.” She leaned her head in close to Cassie and whispered, “Because no one gets between me and my meal.”

“Y-you … don’t … want—” Cassie tried to choke out the words but it was hard to speak, um, what with the vamp actually choking her and all. She was trying to tell the redhead … You don’t want to put your fangs in me. That would be a huge mistake.

But the vamp wasn’t giving her the time to talk.

“Let her go.” Dante’s voice. Cold. Flat. And as deliciously deep as Cassie remembered.

The vampire’s eyes narrowed as she stared at her with a mix of disgust and rage. “You’re right. We don’t need her. We don’t—”

“I said … let her go.” The threat in Dante’s voice had goose bumps rising on Cassie’s arms. “And I meant do it now.”

The vamp dropped her.

Cassie landed on her ass. Figured. She’d never been the graceful type.

The redhead turned toward Dante. “Ready to leave?” she purred to him.

Purring. Hissing. The vamp was so annoying.

“You leave.” Dante sent her a look that could have frozen a desert. “I’m not done here.”

“But—”

“And I’m not your f*cking meal,” he added, a touch of heat whipping through his words.

Ah, so he had heard that part. Cassie rather thought his enhanced hearing would pick it up.

The redhead glared at Dante, then at Cassie. A promise of retribution was in the vamp’s eyes.

Ah yes, another day, another enemy. Cassie swallowed and rose slowly to her feet.

“I’ll see you again,” the vampire murmured. The words were directed at Cassie, and they sure sounded like a threat.

Wonderful. As if she needed any more threats in her life.

Then the vampire was gone. Probably off to find another meal.

“Who are you?” His voice was a low rumble of sound, one that sent a few more shivers dancing over her skin. Maybe some people—okay, most people—would find that deep rumble scary.

To her, it was sexy. Because of Dante, she’d always had thing for men with deep voices.

She squared her shoulders and stared up at him. “Did you burn again?” She’d seen him just a few months before in New Orleans.

He’d saved her life then. Had actually seemed to remember her …

But now there was no recognition on his face.

She stared up at him. Those high cheekbones, that square jaw. The firm lips that she’d never seen smile, despite all her attempts to make him happy.

His eyes were dark, so dark that they appeared almost as black as the thick hair that hung a little too long and grazed the back of his shirt.

His eyes were watchful, guarded as they swept over her.

“Burn?” Dante repeated carefully.

In the next second, he lunged forward—his move faster than the vamp’s had been. His hand—big, strong, hot—wrapped around Carrie’s arm and pulled her close against his chest. “Now just how the hell would you know about that?”

Cassie wasn’t as tall as the redhead. Not even close. She was barely skirting five foot five, so she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. Dante was at least six foot three, and the guy was built along some very muscled dimensions.

His hold tightened. “Answer me.”

His fingers seemed to heat up, and she knew his power was coursing through his blood. If she wasn’t careful, he might burn her. Just how much control did he have?

“Please,” Cassie kept her voice even with an extreme effort. “I’m not here to hurt you.” No, she was there to beg for his help. If he’d remembered her, even a little, that begging would have gone over much better.

She cleared her throat. “The burn must be fresh. Your memory usually comes back within a week or so after your rising.”

His face seemed to turn to stone.