Cynthia Eden: Burn For Me

I need to offer a round of thanks to so many people.

First, my readers—thank you for all the support that you have given to me. You are absolutely incredible.

To Eden’s Agents—what would I do without you? You’re all amazing!

For my fabulous editor, Esi Sogah—thank you for your wonderful editorial insight. Working with you has been a pleasure.

Happy reading!

The first time Eve Bradley saw Subject Thirteen, he was in chains.

She froze in front of the glass wall that separated her from him—a wall that, to Subject Thirteen, would look just like a mirror. The two-way mirror let the doctors and observers watch his every move. Not that the guy could do much moving when he was chained to the wall.

“I-I thought …” Eve tried to fight the tremble in her voice. She was supposed to look like she belonged here. Like she fit in with all the other researchers who were so eager to experiment on the test subjects. “I thought everyone was here voluntarily.”

Dr. Richard Wyatt turned to face her, his white lab coat brushing against her. “The chains are for his safety.” His tone implied she should have realized that obvious fact.

Yeah, right.

Was she really supposed to buy that line? Being chained up—that equaled safety in what mixed-up world?

“Dr. Bradley …” Wyatt’s dark eyebrows lifted as he studied her with an assessing gaze. “You do realize that all the subjects here are far, far from human, correct?”

She knew the spiel. “Yes, of course, I do. They’re supernaturals. Here to take part in experiments that will help the U.S. military.” So all the fancy guys in suits had told the media when the Genesis group started their recruitment program last fall.

Not that she believed their story. It had taken her months, months, to set up this cover and get inside the research facility.

If she’d been on her own, she never would have passed clearance. But, luckily, Eve had managed to make a few powerful friends over the years.

Friends who wanted to know the truth about this place as much as she did. They all had an interest in Genesis.

Some reporters really could smell a story. Right now, Eve’s nose was twitching.

She glanced back at Subject Thirteen. Everyone knew paranormals were out there, living in the midst of humans. About ten years ago, the first supernaturals had made themselves known. They’d come out of their paranormal closets. And why not? Why should they have been forced to keep hiding? Always hiding in the shadows had to suck. Maybe they’d just gotten tired of living a lie and decided to force the humans to see what was right in front of them—or what was living right beside them.

Since the big revelation, things had changed for the paranormals. Some were hunted. Some turned into instant celebrities. The reaction from the humans, well, that was mixed, too.

Some humans hated the supernaturals. Some feared them. Some really enjoyed fucking them.

Eve didn’t necessarily fall into any of those categories.

Subject Thirteen was staring right at her. A small shiver slid over Eve’s body.

His eyes were dark. They looked almost black—as black as the thick hair that hung a little too long as it brushed over his broad shoulders. Thirteen was a handsome man, strong, muscled— definitely muscled— and with the sculpted bone structure that had probably caught plenty of attention from the ladies.

High cheeks. Square jaw. Lips that were hard, a little thin, but still sexy … though she could have sworn that mouth held a cruel curve.

Her heartbeat began to pound faster. Thirteen’s eyes were sweeping over her body. A slow, deliberate glance. “Can he—can he see through the mirror?” His gaze felt like a hot touch on her skin.

“Of course not” was Dr. Wyatt’s instant response. The doc sounded annoyed with her.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Subject Thirteen smiled.

Damn. Her shoulders tensed right back up again.

Wyatt checked his notes and then told her, “Go check his vitals before we begin the procedure for today.”

Right. Vitals check. Her job. Eve nodded. She’d done two years of med school before realizing the gig wasn’t for her, so she could pass muster with these guys, no problem. Only part of her résumé was fake.

The good part.

Eve walked slowly toward the metal door that was the only entrance and exit to Thirteen’s holding room. A guard opened the door for her. An armed guard—which brought up the next question. Why did volunteers have to be guarded?

Oh, jeez, but this place was creeping her out. Volunteers, my ass.

Sure, she’d seen a couple other subjects during her time at the Genesis facility. Not many, though. Her clearance wasn’t high enough to get her past level one. Or it hadn’t been … until today.

Until she’d been told that Dr. Wyatt needed her services for his latest experiment. Dr. Richard Wyatt was Genesis. A former kid genius, the guy had a couple fists full of degrees, and currently was the leading expert in the field of paranormal genetics.

He was also a hard-ass who gave her the creeps when his cold green eyes locked on her. Maybe he was a fairly attractive guy, but something about him made her blood ice.

The guard waved his hand, indicating that it was clear for Eve to proceed. When she walked into Thirteen’s holding room, Eve saw the slight flare of the man’s nostrils. Then his head turned toward her slowly, the move almost like a snake’s as he sized her up.

He didn’t speak, but his powerful hands clenched.

Eve opened her small black bag. “Hello.” Her voice came out too high-pitched. She drew in a steadying breath. The guy was chained. It wasn’t like anything could happen to her. She needed to get a grip and do her job. “I’m just here to run a few quick checks on you.” No machines were hooked up to him. No monitors. Wyatt wanted these checks done the old-fashioned way—hell if she knew why. Eve pulled out her stethoscope and stopped a foot away from Thirteen. “I-I’ll need to listen to your heartbeat.”

Still nothing. Okay. Eve swallowed and offered a weak smile. Obviously, she wasn’t dealing with a chatty fellow.

Eve slid closer to him. Her gaze darted to the chains. They held his arms trapped at his sides. Even if he’d wanted to grab her— don’t grab me, don’t!— he couldn’t move.

What if Wyatt was setting her up? The guy was chained and that had to mean he was dangerous, right? Those were some seriously thick chains. They looked like something right out of a medieval torture chamber.

“I won’t hurt you.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice; and what a dark, rumbling voice it was. When the big, bad wolf from that old fairy tale talked, Eve bet the beast had sounded just like Subject Thirteen.

She exhaled and hoped she didn’t look rattled. “I didn’t think you would.”

His lips twisted in the faintest of smiles—one that called her a liar.

Eve put the stethoscope over his heart. She adjusted the equipment, listened, and glanced up at him in surprise. “Is your heartbeat always this fast?” Grabbing his chart, she scanned through the notes. Fast, but not this fast. His heart was galloping like a racehorse.

Eve put her hand against his forehead and hissed out a breath. The guy was hot. Not warm, not feverish, hot.

And she was so close to him that her breasts brushed his arm.

Subject Thirteen’s heartbeat grew even faster.

Oh … just … oh . Hell. She hurried backward a bit.