Playing With Fire (tales of an extra ordinary girl)

by Gena Showalter

  The “please” didn’t sway me. But I was too weak and my arms hurt too much and death was beginning to look like a holiday. Really, he could kill me now and he’d only be putting me out of my misery.

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, drew in a deep breath and felt my arms fall to my sides. A part of me kind of expected the air shield to remain in place, to prove I wasn’t the one controlling it. It did remain for a few seconds. Then it wavered again, like waves in an ocean dancing over a beach, only to disappear altogether.

  For several minutes, I tried to pull myself up and out of this defeatist position. For several minutes, I failed. I ended up staying on the floor, leaning my forehead against the side of the bed. The coolness of the sheets helped alleviate the feverish burn of my brow.

  My shoulders slumped as I gazed at the man. He didn’t pounce. He remained where he was, utterly relaxed. “Want some help?” he asked.

  “Don’t come near me.” I panted with exhaustion. God, why couldn’t I sound strong? Menacing?

  His dark eyebrows arched, but he didn’t comment. Didn’t point out that he could now do whatever he wanted to me. A long while passed, each minute more painful than the last.

  “You wanted to talk to me,” I said, just to fill the deathlike silence that had enveloped us, “so talk. You mentioned a formula. Does this formula have a name? What was in it?”

  “I can’t answer those questions,” he replied.

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Won’t.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s classified.”

  “Let’s see,” I said, not bothering to raise my head. “I almost died from a formula you said I drank. You tried to ‘neutralize’ me because of it. And now you’re telling me I don’t need to know exactly what it is I allegedly consumed?”

  “I’m not going to tell you specifics about the formula itself, but you can ask me something else.”

  Fine. I would. “When did I supposedly drink this formula?” Let’s just see if he could formulate a believable answer.

  His lips pulled downward in a tight frown, and he regarded me silently. I found his stare unnerving and strangely arousing. I knew I shouldn’t be able to experience any type of arousal in my condition, especially toward this man. And this was the second time he’d made me feel this way! Had he shot me full of some kind of aphrodisiac while I slept? I wouldn’t put such a lecherous act past the needle-wielding, clothes-changing bastard.

  “Do you recall a man in a lab coat who stormed into the café a week ago?” he asked.

  A week had passed? A whole week? The news hit me hard, dizzying, upsetting. So much time had passed, completely unnoticed by me. But despite the time lapse, I recalled that day very well. Lab Coat had swept into Utopia, created havoc, then left me and everyone else to clean up after him.

  “Yes.” I gulped. “I remember.”

  “That man is a scientist who ran off with a top-secret experiment, and he poured it in something you drank.”

  “That’s impossible. That’s stupid. That’s-a mocha latte,” I whispered, dazed. Dear Lord. After the chaos at Utopia had died down and Pretty Boy had begun questioning everyone, I’d chugged my too-sweet latte. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Now… I just didn’t know.

  “We weren’t sure he’d given it to you. We hoped he hadn’t, of course. Then you didn’t show up for work, which led us to check on you here, where we discovered you were sick.”

  “We?” I asked, the word barely audible. There were more men out there like this one? More men who thought I needed neutralizing?

  “My employer and I.”

  My blood ran cold. Was Pretty Boy his boss? If the CIA wanted me dead, I sure as hell was going to end up dead. “Do you work for the CIA?” I croaked.

  “Hell, no. I actually don’t work for the CDC, either. I work for an agency that you’ve never heard of. Paranormal Studies and Investigations. PSI. We’re like ghosts. To the rest of the world, we don’t exist.”

  So why tell me? I feared the answer: I’d soon be dead and couldn’t tattle.

  Okay. Did Pretty Boy work for this same agency, then? That guy had been Freaky with a capital F. I could totally believe him capable of ordering my death. Wait. Did I even believe this man’s story? He’d already proved to be a liar, saying he was with the CDC when he wasn’t.

  “You said the formula was changing me. What kind of changes?”

  “Do you really need to ask? You called forth the wind. You commanded the air to solidify.”

  “I didn’t call it,” I protested. “It just came.”

  “Did it?” His lip curled on one side, giving him a sardonic edge.

  “Yes.” The word held a layer of uncertainty.

  “If everything goes as we think, you’ll soon have power over the four elements. Air, fire, earth and water.”

  My eyes rounded. “You’re saying I’ll have powers? Superpowers?” No way. Now I knew he was lying to me.

  “No.” He gave one jerky shake of his head. “I’m saying you do have superpowers.”

  I rubbed my temple, trying to subdue a sudden ache. “I hope you realize how insane you sound. Superpowers are for movies. Superpowers are for comic books. They are not for real life or average girls who can’t hold on to a job.”

  “Tell that to your superpowers,” he said drily. “And FYI, you’re not average anymore.” As he spoke, he shifted in the chair.

  I scrambled backward. Not that I got far.

  “Whoa. Easy.” Slowly he lifted his hands, showing me he held nothing. “I was just getting more comfortable.”

  I relaxed against the mattress again, saying weakly, “I don’t want you to get comfortable. I want you to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

  “Sorry.” Amusement dripped from his tone. “You’re stuck with me.”

  “Because you have to neutralize me?”

  “Yes.”

  I’d expected him to deny it, and that he hadn’t, that he’d flat-out admitted he still planned to neutralize (kill?) me, should have panicked me. It didn’t. He hadn’t hurt me yet, and I wasn’t going to allow myself to worry until he came at me again.

  Besides, I did not want to believe him; I couldn’t believe him. That would mean I had superpowers. That would mean I had erected that air shield. That would mean something terrible truly had been done to me.

  “I wish I could give you an antidote,” he said, “but we don’t have one. Yet.” At least he sounded genuinely apologetic this time.

  “There’s no need to hurt me. Honest, I’m not a threat to anyone.”

  He snorted. “Very soon there’s every possibility you’ll be able to control the weather. You’ll be able to start fires without any provocation. Cause floods, tornadoes. How is that not a threat?”

  “I’m not going to do any of those things,” I ground out.

  “You will. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

  “How do you know that for sure?” I had to make him realize exactly how foolish he sounded. “You said it was an experimental formula. That means you can’t be one hundred percent sure of anything.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve spent a lot of time with human lab rats and I know when trouble is coming.” He paused, his eyes growing dark. “The man who has done everything in his power to control the formula will want to experiment on you when he discovers you actually drank it.”

  “Is he your boss?” Was he talking about Pretty Boy, as I’d suspected? “Because if he is, you can tell him I didn’t drink a formula, I don’t have powers and I need to be left alone.”

  “Hell, no, he’s not my boss. And I can’t ‘tell’ him anything. He runs OASS, Observation and Application of Supernatural Sciences, a nongovernment agency that’s PSI’s biggest rival. Just so you know, PSI is the home of the good guys.” His brows quirked, and he grinned slowly. “Well, the better guys, at least.”

  If I’d had the energy to throw my hands in the air, I would have. I ha
d to be the last sane person in the universe. “This is crazy!” I said. “You’re an ass, he’s an O-ASS. You’re all asses!”

  “Time will prove the truth of my words,” he said with utter confidence.

  A tremor slithered along my spine. His unshakable assurance did more to convince me than anything else had. Time would reveal the truth, and whether I totally believed his claim or not, I needed to be prepared for whatever was revealed. I might not believe this one hundred percent, but he certainly did.

  “What-what kind of experiments are we talking about here?” I asked.

  “Let’s see. He’s skinned people so he could later coat their bodies with metal, making them impenetrable. He’s cut off their arms and replaced them with weapons. He’s injected people with poison, hoping their bodily fluids would contain those poisons and kill anyone they kiss, anyone they screw. Oh, here’s one you might enjoy-he’s even fed people an experimental formula to give them powers over the four elements. Everyone-but one-who’s taken it has either frozen to death or burst into flames.”

  God. Was he trying to warn me that I, too, would either freeze or burn? “I don’t want to die,” I told him. “And I don’t want to be a human lab rat. I’m a person.”

  There was a brief flash of guilt in his eyes, then nothing. No emotion. “That’s not for me to decide.”

  My chin trembled, and my eyes burned with moisture. “Why are you telling me all of this? If you had stuck with the CDC story, I might have cooperated with you.”

  “You deserve the truth,” he said gently. “Or at least as much of it as I can tell you.” His features softened, completely at odds with the underlying meaning of his words. I deserved the truth, but he was still going to hurt me.

  So much for not worrying until he came at me. I tried to stand, tried to push myself up and run, but every ounce of my being protested and I ended up slumped over again. Fear beat through me. There had to be-ohmygod. My gaze was focused on my hands, which were folded in my lap. My eyes widened, becoming impossibly round. No. No, no, no. I blinked, but there was no change.

  Ice crystals had just formed on the tips of my fingers. I’d watched them, watched the crystals form out of nothing, simply crystallizing from my skin. The cold didn’t bother me, didn’t affect me at all.

  In that moment, I believed him. I believed everything he’d said, without any hint of doubt. I would control the weather, he’d said. Rain, snow… sleet. I would cause floods, fires and tornadoes, he’d said. People wanted to experiment on me, he’d said. Ohmygod!

  “What’s your name?” I gasped, hoping to drown out thoughts of ice and experiments. I rubbed my hands together for warmth and managed to melt the ice. I didn’t tell him what had just happened.

  “That’s not important.”

  “I disagree. I like to know the names of the men who want to kill me. It’s one of my little quirks.”

  His lips twitched. “ Rome. My name is Rome.”

  An exotic name for an exotic-looking man. I frowned. Considering the reason he was here, I had no business thinking of him as “exotic.”

  “I don’t want superpowers, Rome. I don’t want to be in this situation,” I added desperately. “Help me get my normal life back. Please.”

  “I can’t. I told you that. The scientist who created the formula, maybe… ” He shook his head. “Even then it’s doubtful.”

  “I’m willing to try.”

  “Too bad. Dr. Roberts is missing and no one has been able to find the crafty bastard.”

  Dr. Roberts-I committed the name to memory. That harmless-looking man in the lab coat was the one ultimately responsible for my predicament. He deserved a horde of killers chasing him. “Tell me something. If you and your boss are the good guys, how can either of you consider hurting me? Destroying me?”

  His lips lifted in a smile completely devoid of humor. “We do what we must to keep the world safe. That’s our job. Sometimes good people do bad things, even unintentionally, and they must be stopped. If you’re left on your own, you could cause one disaster after another. Hurt millions of people. Destroy-”

  “I told you,” I interrupted, determined to make him believe me. “I would never do those things.”

  “You wouldn’t mean to, but… ” He left the rest unsaid.

  “What’s more, you could end up in the wrong hands. Enemy hands, and you could be used against us.”

  My eyes closed briefly, opened, then closed again, opened, and I stared at the carpet. My remaining strength (not that there had been much) abandoned me with lightning speed. Black stars winked over my vision, interlocking and slowly weaving together to form a solid wall I couldn’t penetrate.

  He’d won. Rome had won. Any moment now I would sink into total oblivion. He’d be able to do whatever he wanted to me then. Kill me. Neutralize me. I tried to fight the seductive call of sleep, but it proved increasingly potent. How could I do this? How could I fall asleep amid such danger?

  If he possessed any type of remorse, any guilt, any hesitation in doing his job, I had to bring that into focus now. Before it was too late.

  “ Rome,” I said, the word nearly undetectable. “Please don’t hurt me. You won’t only kill me, you’ll kill my father. I’m all he’s got. I pay his bills. He’s too weak to work. Without me, he’ll lose everything, will be destitute. Homeless… dead. Have you ever had anyone depend on you for their survival?”

  Something almost tender flashed over his face, as if he was thinking of someone.

  Maybe I imagined it, maybe I didn’t. Either way, I didn’t have time to think about it. Darkness consumed me in the next instant.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I SNAKED IN AND OUT of turbulent dreams-dreams that were hauntingly vivid. A knife flashed through my mind, its sharp tip glistening silver, then crimson. A huge black cat growled from the corner of my bedroom before leaping and attacking-me? Did it attack me?

  Panic was beyond my grasp. At least I felt no pain.

  The images were disjointed, seeming to happen all at once, yet an eternity apart.

  I struggled against the violence, determined to tamp it out, but I had no control over the situation. I was completely vulnerable. Utterly helpless.

  Rome ’s rugged face suddenly loomed over me, hazy, blurred. He appeared resolute and a little sad. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice penetrating and chasing away some of the darkness.

  “Don’t hurt me,” I pleaded.

  “If I don’t, someone else will and they won’t be merciful.”

  “Please.”

  “I must.”

  “No.”

  Pause.

  He lifted tendrils of my hair and sifted it through his fingers. “You’re as innocent as Sunny,” he said gently. He sighed.

  “Who’s-” I felt a sharp sting in my arm and jerked. A burning river entered my bloodstream, racing through me. A drugging peace followed the burn, settling over me, infusing every part of my body.

  Down, down I sank into another realm of darkness, a spiraling void. There were no solid anchors. No sense of time or place. Thankfully, the dreams were held at bay, evaporating as if they’d never existed. I floated over a blanket of clouds.

  Then… nothing. Yet… everything.

  How much time passed, I didn’t know. I only knew pricks of light soon began to invade my mind. With the light came strength, and my eyelids fought to open. I needed to wake up; I knew I did. Something called to me. Beckoned. I stretched my arms over my head. My back arched, popping each vertebra of my spine. It felt good to move.

  The scents of frying bacon and scrambled eggs blended with the sugary sweet fragrance of syrup, wafting to me like a summoning finger that promised to lead me straight into paradise. My mouth watered.

  As I forced myself to full wakefulness, I gazed around the bedroom. Confusion seeped slowly into my consciousness. I don’t know what I expected to see, but what I saw wasn’t it.

  A faux marble armoire rested against the far white wall. But…
I didn’t own an armoire. Sheer dark blue curtains draped the only window, curtains that should have been green. The old, ratty quilt I’d bought at a garage sale swathed the bed in a multihued sea of colors, but this mattress was different, softer than mine. Overhead, a ceiling fan whirled slowly, providing a light but welcome breeze.

  I didn’t have a ceiling fan in my room.

  Where was I? In the last glimpse I’d had of my bedroom, black, ashy smudges had layered the carpet and walls. These walls were bare, peeling but clean. I shook my head, and my gaze landed on a junglelike corner of thriving plants, brilliant green and dewy. My plants were dry, nearing death.

  Obviously I’d been moved. The man, the one who’d wanted to neutralize me, had brought me here. Yes. Rome was his name, and that’s what he’d done. Too bad he hadn’t been a dream. His harsh, savagely sensual face was too vivid in my mind; his threats still rang in my ears. My fingers still trembled from having held him off.

  Shouldn’t I be dead? I glanced down at my hands, turning them in the light. At the very least, shouldn’t I have awakened in a laboratory, strapped to a table, with evil scientists doing things to my body they wouldn’t do to farm animals? Instead, I felt well-rested and clean. I even tasted mint, as if someone had recently brushed my teeth. My hair and skin smelled fragrant, like jasmine body wash. I did not want to contemplate what that meant.

  Get up, Jamison. Get out of here before Rome returns. Yes, yes. That’s exactly what I needed to do. I threw a leg over the side of the bed.

  “Good. You’re awake,” a cold, hard voice said from the doorway. “Not trying to escape, are you?”

  Gasping, I whipped my head toward the speaker, my leg dangling guiltily in front of me. Rome filled the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore another black shirt, the sleeves rolled up, the button at his collar undone. Black slacks hugged lean legs.

  He could have been a businessman if it hadn’t been for his I’ve-seen-the-worst-the-world-has-to-offer eyes, with those taut, determined lines around them. The gun holster hooked to his shoulder didn’t help the image, either.

  “Me?” I gulped. “Try and escape? Never.”