Read Online Playing With Fire by Gena Showalter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gena Showalter
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sides, I shook my hands, increasing their blood flow. Wind, come on!
“Fine.” He sighed. “Keep trying. Failure will be good for you.” He released the pressure on my shoulders, and I was able to hold my palms out in front of me. “You’ll realize that you can’t get away from me, no matter how hard you try, and we can get down to business.”
My eyelids squeezed tightly, and I visualized what I wanted: a gusting, torrential wind. Hard, pounding. Several seconds passed as I waited for something, anything. Was a slight breeze too much to ask for? Obviously. I got zilch. Nada.
“I told you.” He tsked with his tongue.
“I hate when people say that.” Irritation swam through me. Irritation and powerlessness, frustration and humming thrums of awareness of him—which only increased my irritation. “I wouldn’t be standing here trying to blow this window to smithereens with my bare hands if it weren’t for you.”
He chuckled, a tender purr at odds with everything I’d come to think about him. “Stubborn,” he said.
“Determined.” How dare he laugh at me? Tendrils of fury began to replace my other emotions, burning them away.
“Look, I’ve been threatened, taken against my will to an unfamiliar apartment and infected with some sort of formula. And there’s no end in sight! I’ll try to escape if I damn well—” My fingers caught fire and I screamed.
“Wonderful,” he said drily.
“I’m on fire. I’m on fire!” Panicked, I waved my hands through the air. The flames only intensified. If I hadn’t already been convinced I had powers, I would have believed it then.
Rome sighed. “Stop wiggling and take stock. Does it burn you?”
His words penetrated my mind, and I stilled. The panic receded (slightly), as did the flames. The dying fire produced heat on my skin, I realized, but somehow not enough to burn me. “No,” I said, shocked.
He reached around me, running his fingers down my arms to my now-extinguished hands, then tracing a fingertip over each nail bed. A delicious shiver stole over me, warm and erotic, enough to lick tiny embers of sensation over my skin. Hot, like the flames. Maybe hotter.
“You’re a menace to yourself, not to mention the rest of the world. No wonder the paras want you.”
“Excuse me. The what-a’s?”
“The paras. Para-agencies.” When I made no reply, he added, “Agencies that deal with the paranormal, like PSI.”
“Whatever. Those agencies can go to hell,” I said, returning my attention to my hands. There were no burn marks, not a hint of redness. What struck me most, though, was how delicate they appeared next to Rome’s. While mine were slender and olive-toned, his were thick and strong. A lovely tawny color. My nails were a little scraggly—I hadn’t had the time (or inclination) to file them lately. His were perfectly buffed, obviously well maintained. Scars laced his palms.
“How did I start that fire?” I asked. “That was—that was…”
“Dangerous.” He let out another sigh. “You’re going to be more trouble than I anticipated.”
“You don’t know how I did it either, do you?” I felt like crying. “I set my fingers on fire, damn it. I don’t want to do that ever again. Not ever!”
“But you will. You’ll do worse before the day is out, I’m sure. These new abilities have already found their place in your chemical makeup. They’ve already changed you. While you slept, they were erratic and uncontrollable.” His words were whisper-soft, a caress that traveled along my spine. “Now…”
“Now?” I prompted, my stomach twisting painfully.
“Now you must wield them, not they you. You must dominate them or they will consume you.”
I tried to turn and look at him, but he stopped me by resting his chin on top of my head. Fine. He didn’t want me to move, I wouldn’t move. “How do you know they’ll consume me?” I asked, remaining in place.
“Maybe I’ve been where you are.”
My mouth fell
“Fine.” He sighed. “Keep trying. Failure will be good for you.” He released the pressure on my shoulders, and I was able to hold my palms out in front of me. “You’ll realize that you can’t get away from me, no matter how hard you try, and we can get down to business.”
My eyelids squeezed tightly, and I visualized what I wanted: a gusting, torrential wind. Hard, pounding. Several seconds passed as I waited for something, anything. Was a slight breeze too much to ask for? Obviously. I got zilch. Nada.
“I told you.” He tsked with his tongue.
“I hate when people say that.” Irritation swam through me. Irritation and powerlessness, frustration and humming thrums of awareness of him—which only increased my irritation. “I wouldn’t be standing here trying to blow this window to smithereens with my bare hands if it weren’t for you.”
He chuckled, a tender purr at odds with everything I’d come to think about him. “Stubborn,” he said.
“Determined.” How dare he laugh at me? Tendrils of fury began to replace my other emotions, burning them away.
“Look, I’ve been threatened, taken against my will to an unfamiliar apartment and infected with some sort of formula. And there’s no end in sight! I’ll try to escape if I damn well—” My fingers caught fire and I screamed.
“Wonderful,” he said drily.
“I’m on fire. I’m on fire!” Panicked, I waved my hands through the air. The flames only intensified. If I hadn’t already been convinced I had powers, I would have believed it then.
Rome sighed. “Stop wiggling and take stock. Does it burn you?”
His words penetrated my mind, and I stilled. The panic receded (slightly), as did the flames. The dying fire produced heat on my skin, I realized, but somehow not enough to burn me. “No,” I said, shocked.
He reached around me, running his fingers down my arms to my now-extinguished hands, then tracing a fingertip over each nail bed. A delicious shiver stole over me, warm and erotic, enough to lick tiny embers of sensation over my skin. Hot, like the flames. Maybe hotter.
“You’re a menace to yourself, not to mention the rest of the world. No wonder the paras want you.”
“Excuse me. The what-a’s?”
“The paras. Para-agencies.” When I made no reply, he added, “Agencies that deal with the paranormal, like PSI.”
“Whatever. Those agencies can go to hell,” I said, returning my attention to my hands. There were no burn marks, not a hint of redness. What struck me most, though, was how delicate they appeared next to Rome’s. While mine were slender and olive-toned, his were thick and strong. A lovely tawny color. My nails were a little scraggly—I hadn’t had the time (or inclination) to file them lately. His were perfectly buffed, obviously well maintained. Scars laced his palms.
“How did I start that fire?” I asked. “That was—that was…”
“Dangerous.” He let out another sigh. “You’re going to be more trouble than I anticipated.”
“You don’t know how I did it either, do you?” I felt like crying. “I set my fingers on fire, damn it. I don’t want to do that ever again. Not ever!”
“But you will. You’ll do worse before the day is out, I’m sure. These new abilities have already found their place in your chemical makeup. They’ve already changed you. While you slept, they were erratic and uncontrollable.” His words were whisper-soft, a caress that traveled along my spine. “Now…”
“Now?” I prompted, my stomach twisting painfully.
“Now you must wield them, not they you. You must dominate them or they will consume you.”
I tried to turn and look at him, but he stopped me by resting his chin on top of my head. Fine. He didn’t want me to move, I wouldn’t move. “How do you know they’ll consume me?” I asked, remaining in place.
“Maybe I’ve been where you are.”
My mouth fell
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