Gena Showalter - Playing With Fire (tales of an extra ordinary girl)

What I got out of Rome ’s speech: There was a chance I could be me again. Normal, average me. The thought was intoxicating. Wonderful. Heady. Except… a stray thought intruded upon my happiness, and I frowned. “What do you get out of all this, Rome? You had orders to take me in. If you’re telling the truth, you’ve disobeyed direct orders. You’ll be working against your boss. Why would you do that for me? A stranger.”

His jaw clenched and he shrugged, the action stiff. “Maybe my boss changed his mind. Maybe he now thinks you’re of better use in the field.”

“And maybe you’re full of shit,” I said. He probably expected me to accept his explanation without comment. Well, he could stuff his stupid maybes. “Maybe you aren’t really working against anyone but me. Maybe you plan to find and kill Dr. Roberts and blame it on me.”

Rome remained silent.

“Before your boss let me loose, he would want to see what I could do.”

More silence.

“Wouldn’t he?” I demanded. “Tell me the truth, Rome. Do you really want to help me? Or are you trying to trick me so that I’ll take the fall for something?”

Again, he kept his mouth closed and uttered not a sound.

Anger sparked inside me, but thankfully, I didn’t start a fire. I continued to work the rope at my wrists and ankles, my hands and feet becoming as hot as my rage. My life was at stake here, and I couldn’t risk my survival on the hope that Rome meant me no harm.

“You’ll get no help from me,” I declared.

“I don’t want to frame you for a crime,” Rome finally said. “And my employer doesn’t know that I have no intention of bringing you in. Satisfied?”

“No.” And I wasn’t. “Does this employer of yours have a name?”

Another heavy curtain of silence fell, then he said, “John Smith.”

Puh-lease. “Yeah, like a thousand other men. Fine. Don’t tell me. I wouldn’t know him, anyway. But why won’t you take me to him? Give me a good reason to believe you. Tell me why you’d suddenly want my help in saving my own life when you were so determined to hurt me before?”

His dark brows arched, and our gazes locked. “You won’t simply trust me?”

“No. Nein. Nay. Shall I say it in another language?”

He ran a hand over his face, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to give you to my boss, and I’m not going to let you fall into Vincent’s hands,” he said. “Not now and not later. I give you my word. If we can’t find the doctor, I’ll find another way to get Vincent off your back.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because… ” He paused, as if confessing was a painful chore. “Because-damn it. This isn’t information you need right now.”

I stopped working at the rope, poised at the edge of my seat. “Tell me anyway,” I insisted.

“Because,” he repeated, glaring at me. The heat of that glare nearly singed my skin. “Because I need to take my daughter into hiding, and you’re the only one who can help me do that.”

IMMEDIATELY AFTER dropping that little bomb on me- Rome has a daughter. A daughter!-he shoved to his feet, skidding his stool backward. He prowled to the far counter and withdrew something from one of the drawers. He kept his back to me. “You’re going to help me, right?” he asked.

“Whatever you say, boss,” I said uncertainly. What was he doing?

“Good.” He pivoted on his heel and came toward me carrying a-ohmygod! He was holding a knife!

Gasping, I jolted backward and tumbled off the stool. I landed with a thump, the cold linoleum floor doing nothing to cushion my fall. A sharp pain shot up my arms. Air shield, air shield. I needed a freaking air shield. But my hands were tied, literally! I tried to scramble back, pushing with my feet, but I wasn’t fast enough. Rome reached me and tsked under his breath.

“So suspicious,” he said.

“How can you do this?” I cried. What I wouldn’t give to hold out my arms and blast him with an air shield. If only I could will that power to work without the use of my hands. “I’ll-I’ll fry you. I’ll rip you apart with a tornado. You said I’d be able to command a tornado, and I’ll do it.”

Unconcerned, he tossed the knife in the air and caught the hilt.

“You need my help to hide your daughter,” I reminded him. “How can you-ummph!”

Without a word, he flipped me onto my stomach. Through my shock and fear, I registered the sound of metal slicing through cord. Once. Twice. My mouth fell open as I realized he was cutting me loose, both wrists and ankles.

“You’re free,” he said. “Trust me now?”

I swung my arms in front of me; I parted my legs and drew my knees toward my chest, then jumped to my feet. With freedom came a surge of bravery. I whipped around, pointing a finger at his chest and growling, “Don’t you ever come at me with a knife again.”

One of his brows arched in an insolent salute. “Or a needle?” he asked drily.

“That’s right.”

“No sharp objects, eh? You’re taking all the fun out of our relationship.” He tossed the knife in the sink with expert precision. The tip embedded right beside the drain, and the hilt swayed back and forth. “There are a few things I have to do,” he said, capturing my gaze with his own. His stare was intense, gauging. “Can I trust you to stay here?”

I batted my lashes innocently. “Of course. You can trust me as much as I can trust you.”

“I’ll take that to mean you can trust me,” he snapped. A frown pulled his lips tight. “Don’t bother trying to call anyone. There are no phones here. Do not leave this apartment, either. You will be hunted. I covered our tracks, but that doesn’t mean you’re completely safe.”

My chin rose, and I regarded him with all the bravado I could manage. “That’s assuming they’ll be able to capture me, even knowing my location.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped toward me, closing precious personal space. I stood my ground, not backing away as I wanted-or rather, should have wanted. Heat radiated from him, and it made me shiver deliciously.

“You’re vulnerable, Belle. Until you learn how to control your abilities, you aren’t the amazing Periodic Table Chick, and you’ll be defeated. Every time.”

“Don’t call me that!” I said, stomping my foot. The title seemed to drive home the fact that I wasn’t me anymore. I was someone else, someone different and dangerous and hunted.

“Vulnerable?” he asked, lips curling. “Or Periodic Table Chick?”

“Both. I’m not some superhero. I will find a way to get rid of these powers, and then everyone will have to leave me the hell alone.” Nothing was worth this kind of trouble. Nothing was worth being experimented on and/or killed.

“For your sake, I hope we do find the doctor.” His tone had lost all traces of amusement, emerging grave and sad.

Wait. Something wasn’t right here. Something… My eyes slitted and my hands fisted on my hips. “You’re contradicting yourself, Rome. If we find him and he helps me get rid of my powers, I won’t be able to help you hide your daughter, now will I? Not that I understand just how I’m going to help, anyway. And you can’t just tell me your daughter needs to be hidden and then tell me nothing else. I need details. Why are you going to hide her? Is someone after her?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face. “You like the sound of your own voice, don’t you? That’s why you ask so many questions.”

“Answer me. I’ll just keep asking until you do.”

“Fine. No, she’s not being hunted. Not yet. But she’s a little girl and she deserves a normal life. She’ll never get that here. She’ll never have any kind of life if I don’t hide her, because she’ll be drafted by one of the paras. With or without my approval.” His voice was stark, pain-filled. “And I never said anything about when I’d let you try and get rid of your abilities.”