“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
HAVING 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.