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Authors: Gena Showalter

Playing With Fire (17 page)

BOOK: Playing With Fire
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Tanner whistled. “No wonder you wouldn’t sleep with me, Viper. You’re hot for Superagent. Girls go wild for that commando shit, don’t they? Well, guess what? I want to be Agent Crazy Bones. Lexis said her boss, John, will want to hire me, and I’ll get to go on missions and protect important people and uncover evil schemes.”

Rome swiped his glass and drained the contents, then turned his attention to Lexis, giving her a look that clearly said,
Why did you tell him all of that?
Her lips twitched.

I bit my tongue at their ease with each other. Was it childish of me to want to jump in between them and return Rome’s attention to me? I didn’t like that they were so in sync they understood each other without words.

When Rome’s grip on my hip tightened possessively and he pulled me closer to him, I lost my jealousy of Lexis. A blissful thrill tingled through me. I forced my gaze to Tanner before I melted into a puddle on the floor. “How come you aren’t upset about any of this? We could very well have ruined your life.”

He lost his smile and looked away, past the kitchen, past the living room. “My life was already ruined.” His voice held no humor. Only despair.

“That doesn’t mean more danger will make it better,” Rome said.

“I want to have some fun and get some girls, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

No, there was nothing wrong with that. I just prayed his desires didn’t get him killed. “What’s our game plan?” I asked again.

“I vote for kicking ass and not dying,” Tanner said.

“You’re such a comedian.” My gaze flicked to Rome. “Well?”

He picked up the strawberry he’d taken from me, and popped it into his mouth. Chewed slowly, purposefully. Savored, then swallowed. “I’m still in shock. I’ve gotten used to working alone. I’d just resigned myself to using you, baby, and now I’ve got the kid to contend with.”

“Hey,” Tanner said, frowning. “I’m not a kid, and I, like, totally resent you calling me that. Men tremble in my presence. I can be dangerous. I have mad skills with a bo staff.”

“Sure you do, Napoleon,” I said drily. “Did you hunt wolverines this summer, too?”

“You do
not
know how to use a bo staff,” Rome said.

“Yes, I do! I’ve killed people, man. Killed them dead.”

Rome scrubbed a hand over his face. “Did you kill them with laughter?”

Tanner scowled, his eyebrow piercings glinting in the overhead light. “You want a piece of me, Double-O Ass-wipe? Go ahead. Go for it. I said I wanted some action, and I don’t mind getting it from you.”

Rome flashed a snarl, showing teeth that were surprisingly sharp. The pointed tips gleamed in the light. I double-blinked at them and gulped. Holy hell. They were monster teeth. Had they always been so long, and I simply hadn’t noticed? Reaching up, I fingered my lips. When we kissed, those teeth of his should have sliced through my mouth.

“Are you a vampire?” I blurted out. It made sense in a paranormal sort of way. He’d denied having any type of power last night. In light of those fangs, I didn’t believe him anymore.

He hastily closed his mouth and turned away. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. A long while passed before he spoke. “No, I’m not a vampire.”

“He’s a—”

“Lexis,” Rome warned.

She, too, pressed her lips together.

Aha! So he
did
have a power. “Aw, come on.” Exasperated, angry, I threw my arms in the air. “You can tell me.” Lexis knew and I didn’t, and that needed to change. Right now. “I have no room to judge.”

“Get your bag,” Rome said, not offering any kind of answer or explanation. “Lexis left it on the couch for you. We’re going. I want to visit Dr. Roberts’s house and look for clues. He’s an old man. Surely
I
can find him.”

“He’s old, but he’s smart,” Lexis warned. “No one has been able to find him yet.”

“Wait just a damn minute.” I gripped Rome’s shoulder and spun him around—and he let me. He could have resisted, but he didn’t. I poked him in the chest and glared up at him. “You know what I am, so I have every right to know about you.”

“Yeah.” Tanner crossed his arms over his chest. “Me, too.”

“Shut up,” Rome and I told him simultaneously.

“I’m trying to help you, Viper. Rome’s afraid to tell you.” Suddenly Tanner ceased all movement. A grin spread over his face. Jumping up and down, he clapped his hands together and whooped. “Lexis. Lexis, did you hear what I just said? I can feel his fear. I can feel his fear!”

“Shut the hell up,” Rome growled before Lexis could respond. “I’m not afraid.”

“Is that true?” Craving contact, even slight, I traced my fingertips up his torso and cupped his cheeks. “Are you afraid to tell me?”

“Didn’t you just hear me?” His jaw clenched, and those taut lines I hated branched from his eyes. “I’m not afraid. This simply isn’t something I talk about. Ever. With anyone.”

“Lexis knows,” I pointed out.

“She was part of my…change. It happened during the experiments we volunteered for.”

“Tell me.” Inside, my stomach was churning and I felt sick. So sick. I hated that he was blocking me out like this. Did he think I would reject him? Did he think it would disgust me? Or did he simply not trust me with the truth?

“I’m not going to discuss it, so drop it. What I am, what I can do, is not something people like you can tolerate.”

My teeth ground together. “People like me? By that you better mean smart, wonderfully compassionate women.”

His lips curled at the edges, and he lost some of his dark aura. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Now, end of discussion. We’ve got some breaking and entering to do today.”

Hurt by his continued refusal, I let my arms fall to my sides. “I’m not going to let this subject drop, you know.”

Now he cupped my jaw, and his eyes bored into mine. Slowly, languidly, he brought his lips to mine, only a heartbeat away. “Yes, you will, Pyro Chica.” He kissed me then. Hard and rough. Delicious, wonderful. A quick thrust of his tongue before he strode out of reach, acting as if it had never happened.

Lexis turned away sharply.

“Pyro Chica?” Tanner grabbed my arm to prevent me from chasing after Rome. “Is that your superhero name? No fair. I need a name, too.”

I whirled on him, needing an outlet for my frustration. “That is not my name, and if you dare call me Pyro Chica or Periodic Table Chick or Four Elements Girl I’ll singe the hairs right off your balls.” Once I learned how to do that without destroying the world, that is. “Got it?”

“Fine.” Backing away from me, he held up his hands, palms out. “I’ll just call you Homicidal Tendencies Wench.”

Rome, who had his back to us and was a good distance away in the living room, barked out a laugh. “That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said, kid. It’s the perfect name for her, no doubt about it.”

I flipped both of them off.

Tanner blew me a kiss, the rebellious teenage jackass.

“Rome,” Lexis suddenly exclaimed.

The sound of her voice, nearing panic, caused Tanner and me to shut up. Rome spun around, his expression dark, dangerous. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here,” Lexis said softly. “Vincent’s men are here.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

H
AVING A PSYCHIC
on our team provided a distinct advantage. We knew the bad guys were going to burst into the apartment before they actually did. However, having a psychic on our team also proved to be a distinct disadvantage. For me, at least.

Because Lexis was right. Damn it. That plant fire the previous night was only the beginning. In the end, I did, indeed, torch her place.

“How long do we have?” Rome demanded.

“Not long,” was Lexis’s whispered response. “A few minutes.”

A blank screen descended over Rome’s features as he faced me. “Catch,” he said. He tossed the bag Lexis had packed for me. I slung the strap over my head, anchoring it across my middle, the pouch at my back. Adrenaline rushed through me, hot and stinging, and my palms began to sweat.

Tanner paled, and his cheeks hollowed. “What should I do? What should I do?”

Rome stalked toward us. His motions swift, deliberate, he went to the drawer by the sink, opened it and withdrew two knives.

“I’m not using those.” Tanner shook his head for emphasis.

“They’re not for you.” Rome didn’t spare him a glance. “Lexis,” he said, then he tossed her the blades.

I sucked in a hiss of air, only exhaling when Lexis caught them, hilts clasped tightly in her hands. In one fluid motion, she sheathed them at her waist.

“You know what to do,” he told her.

“Yes.”

“Take the kid, and we’ll meet up later.”

Lexis’s piercing green gaze swept over Rome, a little sad, a little wistful. I’m no empath, but I could feel the love she felt for him, and I couldn’t help but wonder, again, why she’d ever let him go. “Be careful,” she whispered.

He nodded. “You, too.”

Lexis grabbed Tanner’s hand and tried to usher him out of the kitchen. The kid ground his heels into the floor. “Viper. You gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” God, I prayed I spoke true.

His gaze slid to Rome, to the lethal picture he presented, then back to me. “Maybe you should come with us. Let Rambo handle the—”

“She stays,” Rome said curtly. “We have questions, they have answers.”

“I stay,” I said, my voice shaking. I didn’t know what we were up against, only that it would be bad. And that I wasn’t close to being prepared.

Still Tanner didn’t move.

“We must go,” Lexis said, tugging on his arm. “It’s almost too late. Rome won’t let anyone hurt her.”

That was all the assurance Tanner needed. He allowed Lexis to lead him down the hall. His tortured gaze remained on me until the last second.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.
“Do you have a gun or something for me?” I asked Rome.

He palmed another knife, but kept this one for himself. It was larger than the other two, with a sharp gleaming tip. “You know how to use a gun?”

“No.”

“Then, no.” Like his ex, he slid the blade into his belt buckle.

I crisscrossed my arms over my stomach in an attempt to bolster my courage and draw some strength. “What can I do to help?”

“You have powers, remember?” he said, his tone grim. “Use them.”

I liked that he trusted me. I did. But I didn’t trust myself. If he was hurt because of me, because of my lack of skill…“My powers are dangerous, Rome. I can’t control them.”

He wasn’t given the chance to respond.

The sound of breaking glass erupted. I nearly jumped out of my skin. A millisecond later, wood from the front door splintered. Black-clad men rushed inside the apartment. More glass broke; more men burst inside.

“Get down,” Rome whispered fiercely, pushing my shoulders until we were both crouched behind the counter, hidden from immediate view. A look of savagery passed over his features, as if he relished what he was about to do. “Just be careful not to hurt me, okay?”

His mouth slammed against mine for the barest of seconds, lighting a small fire in the pit of my stomach. My passion was melded with fear, though, so the fire lacked any true heat. Footsteps pounded in the living room, followed by still more breaking glass.

Rome rushed forward, staying low.

Gunfire erupted.
Whiz. Pop.
I cringed, and my breath froze in my throat. Dear God. This was real. Terrible, real and in your face. I’d known that during yesterday’s car chase, but it once again hit me, with a force I couldn’t dispute. The man I desired had just thrown himself headlong into danger. A part of me wanted to stay crouched in the shadows as I was—the part of me that recognized fight-or-flight syndrome and eagerly embraced flight.

I forced myself past the debilitating fear, however, while trying to allow it to help me. I had to work with what emotions I could, and right now, all I had was fear. But fear brought ice, as I’d learned running from Rome and touching Vincent’s car, and ice could be a powerful weapon.

“Come on,” I muttered. “You could
die,
Belle. Rome could die.”

More gunfire. A man screamed.

Terror rushed over me, cool, cold, then frigid.
Welcome the fear. Welcome the fear, but don’t let it keep you immobile. Welcome…
A numbing cold pricked at my fingertips, barely noticeable at first.
Welcome the fear, welcome the fear.
Frost formed on the end of my nose, and the air around me misted.
Good girl.

Another scream.

Welcome the fear.
Wave after wave of it slammed into me, each one colder than the last. Trembling, I stared down at my hands. As I watched, a ball of ice began to form. I could hardly believe it, but there it was all the same. I shoved to my feet and drew back my hand, searching for a target. I spotted several. Multiple men raced through the room, kicking over furniture.

Rome suddenly flashed into my vision. He spun, striking a man in the chest with a razored boot heel. His victim screamed and clutched at his now-blood-soaked chest before slouching to the ground. Someone spotted Rome and dived for him.

“Rome!” I shouted. “Look out.” I released the ice with all the power my arm would allow. The gleaming white ball flew through the air and slammed into my target. The moment it touched him, the ice spread over him, enveloping his entire body.

I’d expected it, but the sight still gave me a jolt.

“Get down, Belle.”

I did as Rome had commanded. Gunfire peppered the counter I hid behind, and I curled into myself. A cry rent my lips. Weren’t these people supposed to keep me alive for experimentation? My terror deepened, and several more balls of ice formed in my hands.

Two disharmonized screams blasted my eardrums, and then the bullets stopped flying. Rome, I suspected, had killed the men shooting at me. I leapt up, found targets and tossed the ice. I missed one, but a ball slammed dead center into the second, a black-clad assailant who froze in place.

Wide-eyed, I studied the bodies littering the living room floor. Some were moaning, some were writhing. Some were lifeless. The ones I’d frozen were still blocks of ice. Rome danced around those who remained standing. He was kicking, slashing. Killing. How long could he hold them off? Not long, I realized with horror as I watched someone bolt from the shadows and stab him.

Horror pounded through me, and I shouted,
“No!”
Blood dripped from Rome’s side, soaking his shirt. Without reacting to the pain he must have felt, he bent and lashed out with his left arm, sinking his own blade into the man’s stomach.

“Come on, come on,” I whispered frantically to my hands. Nothing. No more ice. My fear was gone, dissolved in the wake of an intense surge of determination to save the man who had saved me over and over again. These goons were here to take me, perhaps kill me, and obviously meant to kill Rome in the process.

That, I couldn’t allow.

Fury invaded me then, more powerful than ever before, completely melting away every ounce of chill. I burned. No. No, I couldn’t let myself experience anger. I didn’t want a fire. Rome might be hurt by
me.
But the fury wouldn’t leave me—how dare they hurt Rome!—and flames began to lick the ends of my fingers and burn the rims of my eyes.

From the corner of my gaze, I saw someone sprinting around the counter and straight toward me. His determination to immobilize me was evident with his every hurried step. Underneath his black mask, I suspected he wore an expression of cold, unfeeling intent.

Instinctively, I stretched out my hands to ward him off. No air shield this time, but flames shot from me and engulfed him. His screams were agonizing, howls and pleas for help. He dropped to the floor and rolled. My stomach churned with sickness, and I gulped. Ohmygod. I’d done that.
I’d
done that. I covered my mouth with a shaky hand, fire dying.

In the distance, I heard Rome grunt, and my thoughts immediately focused on him. I stepped around the counter, moving straight into the center of the action. I didn’t see him. Where was he? Had he fallen? White-gold sparks flicked from my eyes. Even my hands began burning again.

As the remaining assailants aimed their guns at me, I raised my hands and twisted my body in every direction, desperate to find and save Rome. Fire sprayed everywhere I turned, trailing paths of deadly flame. Metal liquefied. Wood crackled. Smoke thickened the air, and I began to cough. My fire never ceased, though. Around me, men howled and dived for cover.

From the back rooms, I heard the infuriated growl of a wild animal. A…jungle cat? “Rome,” I shouted. I wanted to see him, to assure myself that he lived and breathed.

An alarm suddenly screeched to full, startling life. A heartbeat later, the sprinkler system kicked on, and showers of cold water burst from the ceiling. Droplets rained on my face, caught in my eyelashes and trickled down my nose. But the flames on my fingertips refused to be doused; they sizzled hot and blistering. If they’d hurt him further…

“Rome!”

I blinked the water from my eyes and noticed the room’s blaze was not as resilient as my own; already the fire lessened. Using this to his advantage, one of the men hurdled over the couch and dashed toward me. He didn’t have a gun, so he made use of another weapon—his legs. He jumped up and slammed his feet into my stomach. Air burst from my lungs as I was propelled backward; pain exploded inside me. I hit the floor, a wall, I didn’t know. My head thudded into something hard, and my gaze went black for several seconds.

When my vision cleared, I caught sight of a large black object—a jaguar?—flying through the air and landing on top of my assailant. The cat went for the flailing man’s throat. When it finished, blood dripped from its mouth. A scream tore from my own throat, and I found myself throwing a stream of fire at the cat. No, not flame. Ice. The ball barely missed its left shoulder.

It faced me dead-on, stalking forward, blue eyes slitted. Water rained upon us, splashing like tears. Panicked, I scrambled backward. Instead of attacking me as I feared, it jumped over me, a streak of black lightning, and knocked down a man I hadn’t known stood behind me.

Limbs shaky, I pushed to my feet and batted the wet hair out of my eyes. I had seen this same animal in my apartment. Hadn’t I? It hadn’t hurt me then, either. Had Rome—Rome! Dear God, had it already gotten Rome?

I stumbled through the rooms, searching each and every one, leaping over body after prone, unmoving body. In Lexis’s room, I found Rome’s clothes—without his body. They were ripped down the center, mere rags. And they were splattered with blood.

My fire had died, and now the ice left me, too. I was suddenly empty inside. “Rome!”

A violent fit of coughing doubled me over. Despite the cascade of water, the smoke became so thick and black I had trouble navigating, and had to lean on the wall for support and guidance.

“Rome!” Weakness drifted through me, a phantom at first, easily ignored. But as the coughing fit refused to lessen and the smoke burned my throat, the weakness became a tangible entity.

My knees suddenly lost all strength, and I dropped to the floor. Had to…find…Rome. I didn’t know what I’d do if he’d…if he’d…I couldn’t finish the thought. In the distance, I heard the wail of sirens. Thought I heard the scramble of footsteps, the panicked shouts of men.

“Rome.” His name was nothing more than a hollow, ragged whisper between coughs.

“Here, baby. I’m here.” His arm snaked around me, and he dropped to my side.

Sobbing in relief, I buried my face in the hollow of his neck and wrapped myself around him. “Where the—” cough “—hell have you—” cough “—been?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we have to get out of here. Can you crawl?” He didn’t wait for my answer. The palm of his hand settled on my shoulder and pushed me down. That same hand then slid to the small of my back and urged me forward.

“Can’t…see,” I said. Pools splashed around my knees, causing me to slip and slide.

“Hold on to me. I’ll lead the way.”

A whoosh of air, the brush of his arm, the sprinkle of water. I tried to clasp his shirt, only then realizing his chest was bare. I opened my mouth to ask why he’d ripped off his clothes, but he hissed in pain and the question evaporated. “Sorry.”

“Here.” Not breaking stride, he guided my fingers to his naked hip bone.

With one hand I held on to him, and with the other I crawled. God, the smoke was so thick. Even down here. Tears from my eyes blended with the drops falling from the sprinkler. Nausea welled in my stomach.

“Look out…for the…cat,” I managed to wheeze. There was something odd about that jaguar, something I knew I should guess but couldn’t seem to place at the moment. The fog in my mind proved too great. I only knew it hadn’t been a dream; it wasn’t a hallucination.

“Don’t talk, baby. Save your breath. Try not to inhale the smoke.”

The bag strapped to my back bounced against me with every movement, bruising, and I winced at the soreness. Finally we reached a small doorway. No, not a door, I realized as I stretched out my arm and patted it, but a hatch.

“Get ready to slide,” Rome told me. Without any more warning, he clutched my waist, lifted me and chucked me inside.

I didn’t have time to prepare. One second I was on the ground, the next I wasn’t. Down, down I toppled. My arms flailed, my legs stretched behind me. I would have yelled or shouted, but my throat was too raw. Black walls surrounded me, hemmed me in. Stifled me.

BOOK: Playing With Fire
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