Eve screamed his name even as the crowd chanted for Vance. No, no, they didn’t realize what was happening. They had no idea just how screwed they could all be. The whole place could go up in flames. “You know him?” Trace demanded as his hand curled over her arm. She glanced at him. She’d tried to brief Trace as much as possible on Genesis as they rushed to the fight, but, sure, she’d skimmed over a few details. Like the sex. Like Cain leaving me at the truck stop. Some details you didn’t tell your best friend. Especially when that friend had a serious overprotective streak. “He’s … Subject Thirteen.” She’d told him that part. Told him that she’d helped Thirteen escape from Genesis. Trace was still staring up at Cain. “He’s not like any shifter I’ve seen before.” Vance was curling his hands into fists. Cain stood, smiling faintly at him. Definitely a chilling smile—so why wasn’t Vance running the hell out of there? The guy should be trying to claw open the side of the cage and get to safety.
