Twice as Hot (29 page)

Was
all of this an omen?

Had
Lexis been right, after all? In the end, would Rome walk away from me? Would I
marry someone else? I wondered, no longer quite so confident that it couldn’t
happen.

I
swallowed bile. Felt tears burn my eyes.
Stop it! If you cry, you’ll ruin
Rome’s equipment—not to mention the outfit he bought you.

“Speaking
of Rome, where is he?” Lexis asked on a sigh, distracting me. “I’m worried
about him.”

I
was beginning to worry, myself. By now, Rome had been gone three hours. “A few”
equaled no more than two in my book. I wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist,
saying, “Still have that brooding feeling?”

“Yes,
but it’s not about him.”

Was
she trying to convince me? Or herself? Could he be—No. No, I couldn’t think
like that.

But
the tears returned, faster, hotter, my mind so used to painting the blackest
picture. I forced them to slow, then stop, turning my mind to happy thoughts. I
had a party to attend. What kind of party, I still didn’t know. What I’d do
there, I didn’t know either. What I did know was that my current state of mind
would not help the case in any way. And the party
would
be for the case.
Otherwise, Rome would not take me to it.

At
the door, there was a slide, a click and a whoosh. Rome strode inside the room.
All three of us sat at instant attention, our focus riveted on him. He had soot
on his cheeks and his pants were ripped. He was panting and sweating, as if
he’d been running.

I
jolted to my feet, meaning to race to him, wrap him in my arms, but managed to
stop myself in time. “Everything okay?”

His
gaze raked over me, pupils thinning, elongating. His hands fisted. Imagining
them in my newly dark hair, perhaps? Under that intense scrutiny, my nipples
hardened and my legs trembled. My blood heated. Even though he might very well
be turned on because I now looked liked Lexis.

Ouch.

I
was back to wanting to kill him.

“Everything’s…lovely.
I decided to test Big Rocky’s security and see how many guards would come
running if one of their alarms was blown from the inside.”

I
didn’t want to contemplate how he’d gotten an alarm to blow. “And how many was
that?” We hadn’t noticed anything on the monitors.

“A
lot. But I did manage to get a camera in there.” His gaze shifted to Lexis.
“Get Sunny on the phone. I want to talk to her just in case we aren’t able to
make calls later on.”

Just
in case things got complicated, he meant.

A
few minutes later, Lexis was laughing with her little girl and my chest was
aching again. After she said her goodbyes, she handed the phone to Rome.

He
was already smiling as he sat on the edge of the bed. “How’s my ray of
sunshine?”

The
ache spread, deepened.

They
spoke of cartoons and Sunny’s uncle—Rome’s brother—who watched her while her
parents were away. They laughed about a booboo Sunny had gotten while riding
her bike. They argued about Sunny practicing her ability to mist through
inanimate objects. But then Rome frowned. “I know I promised, honey, but now is
not a good time. Fine, all right, you win. You always do. She’s right here,” he
said. “Hang on.” Hesitantly, he handed the phone to me.

I
gripped it, hating how stiff my knuckles were, how trembly my chin was, and
said, “Hey, baby girl. How are you?”

“I
miss everyone.” There was a pout in her sweet five-year-old voice. “I want to
see you.”

“I’ll
come by the moment I’m back in town. Swear.”

“When?”

“A
week,” I said, giving myself ample time.

“Two
days. Did you not hear how much I miss you?”

My
lips curled into a grin. Always a bargainer, this one. But then my gaze caught
on Lexis, who was twisting the comforter of the bed so tightly the material
would surely unravel. “
Two
weeks. And I miss you, too.”

She
sighed. “You still don’t know how this works. You’re supposed to say five days
and I’m supposed to say four and then you’re supposed to say we have a deal.
Daddy’ll have to teach you how to do it, I guess.”

My
cheeks colored as I remembered the last time Rome had tried to teach me how to
bargain. Nakedness and orgasms had been involved. “I’ll tell him.”

“Love
you.”

“Love
you, too, sunshine.” Arm shaky, I handed the phone back to Rome, who was
watching me with the sweetest, most tender expression.

He
said his goodbyes, his voice a mirror of that beautiful expression. I loved
watching him interact with his daughter because he was the kind of father every
girl dreamed of having. When he finished, he threw the phone back to Lexis and
looked at me, all business again.

“I’m
going to shower. Be ready to go by the time I’m done.”

“You
look nice ,”
 I
said, gaze roving over Rome. Not a lie. I’d never seen him so dressed up. He
wore a black pinstriped suit, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair was slicked
back, and he smelled of rich, spicy cologne.

Plus,
he’d somehow managed to change his features. I didn’t see any hint of makeup or
plastic, yet his nose looked longer, his cheeks sharper, his mouth a bit
thinner. Mouthwatering as he appeared, I hadn’t recognized him when he’d
stepped out of the bathroom.

“Thank
you. So do you.”

I,
at least, wasn’t lying or simply being nice. He truly looked delectable. Me?
Not so much. Not next to him. While he was caviar, I was SPAM in my barely
there purple spandex. Seriously, I needed business cards that said
Two
Hours—Two Hundred.
“So why are we in disguise?”

“Desert
Gal has hired people to hunt you down. I don’t want to have to deal with that
on top of everything else. Plus, this is her home turf, which means she already
has the advantage. We don’t want to hand her another one by announcing our
presence.”

I
sighed in agreement. We were seated inside a plush Bentley—I hadn’t asked where
he’d gotten it, I was just glad it wasn’t a sedan—and were creaking down the
highway. He was treating the car like a beloved virgin, taking things slow and
gentle.

My
cell rested beside me. There were three messages waiting for my response: one
from the pastor presiding over the ceremony-that-may-never-happen, one from
Memory Man—“I had fun with you yesterday. You’re prettier in person than you
are in memory”—and one from Reese the vampire. “Call me. Please,” he’d said,
sounding oddly desperate. “I need to do another test. Just one. That’s all I
need.”

This
was not the time. For any of them. Talking to the pastor would depress me,
talking to Memory Man would piss me off (I hoped—every time I spoke to him,
more of my anger drained, not that I had much left), and talking to Reese would
irritate me. I was tired of being tested. And what did he need to test me for,
anyway?

I
wiggled in my seat, trying to force my dress to cover
some
of my thighs.
“Sure you want to be seen with me?”

One
corner of his lips twitched. “Sure. Nervous?”

“No.”

After
his shower, we’d left Lexis and Sherridan in the room, but we hadn’t gone
directly to the costume party or whatever. We’d had lunch and yes, I’d been
stared at. By everyone. I’d wanted to talk about things, about us, but Rome had
kept things all business. Afterward, we walked the busy city streets hand in
hand. Not to bond, sadly, but so that Rome could show me around. Exit routes,
safe zones, hot spots. That kind of thing.

Now,
the sun was setting on the horizon, low and hazy and violet. Mountains swept
the landscape on every side, and they were utterly breathtaking. I’d traveled
with my friends a bit as a teenager—excursions I hadn’t been aware my dad was
killing himself to finance—so I’d been to white-sanded beaches, as well as
Aspen to snow ski. This was, by far, my favorite sight.

The
air was clean, invigorating me. I breathed deeply of it, loving the feel of my
cells expanding in delighted welcome. “So…tell me what we’re dealing with
tonight, what our purpose is.”

“While
we were on the plane, I did a little digging.”

While
I was snoozing the day away, he meant. I popped my jaw. “And?”

“Didn’t
take me long to find the paranormal underground. They have a…club.”

That
hesitation scared me. “What kind of club?”

“A
gentleman’s club.”

Dear
God. Strippers, prostitutes and leering males. Wonderful. No wonder he’d
dressed me as he had. I was his own personal pleasure slave. My head tilted to
the side. Hmm, pleasure slave. We’d played that game before. Only, he’d been
my
slave. I guess this whole role-reversal thing was only fair.

“All
right. I’m down with that,” I said. “But you had better not ask me to pleasure
some stranger for information or there will be hell to pay.”

“That
will
never
happen. You’re mine tonight,” he said, his voice husky,
wine-rich.

I
gulped, trying to fight a heady stream of heat now flowing through my veins.
That was the first advance he’d made on me today.

“But
you’re right. Information is what we’re after. I doubt Desert Gal hangs out
there—she’s just too on-guard—but someone who knows her, her weaknesses and her
habits might. I’ll keep you safe, but you should know what you’ll be dealing
with. People with paranormal abilities are more susceptible to drug use,
alcohol abuse and the need to consort with others like themselves. People who
are different. There will be a lot of scrims on the premises.”

Peachy.
But why didn’t I know this already? I’d been working for PSI long enough to
have this kind of data. “So we’re walking into a drugged-out, drunk-ass
make-out session?”

“Pretty
much.”

I
massaged my temples. Felt how moist they were. Gross. Was I nervous and just
didn’t realize it, causing ice to form and melt on my skin? Or were my powers
wigging out again? “People like that are leery of strangers.” Grimacing, I
rubbed my sweaty palms over my bare thighs. “No way we’ll get in.”

“Oh,
we’ll get in. Let’s just say I have connections, so we’ve already been added to
tonight’s entrance list.”

I
shouldn’t have been surprised, I thought, again shifting in my seat. “Ever been
to one of these things before?”

He
gave a clipped nod, but didn’t offer any further comment. O-kay. I’d take that
to mean he’d done some very naughty things. “Of your own free will or for a
case?”

“Does
it matter?”

His
own free will, then. To keep my jealousy—and my power over the earth—under
control, I changed the subject. “Don’t tell me we’ll be expected to use the
drugs and drink the alcohol.” I had enough trouble keeping myself alive without
them. No telling how much danger I’d stumble into
on
them.

Actually,
that would be a good test for John to run. That kind of information would help
me out here in the field. Too, if anyone ever forced some kind of substance
down my throat or into my vein, I’d be prepared, know how I’d react. Note to self:
talk to John about that, then call Reese back and schedule the feeding.

“Absolutely
not. We’re just going to mingle, schmooze,” Rome said. “Nothing more.
Understand?”

There
had been a mother-bear quality to his tone that had me rolling my eyes. “I wasn’t
asking because I was excited by the prospect. Jeez. Now, tell me what kind of
powers we’re going to be dealing with.”

“All
kinds. Mind readers, misters like Sunny, shifters, psychics like Lexis,
illusionists, electrophiles like Cody, drainers like Desert Gal and your pet
project back at headquarters. You name it.”

I
took offense on Elaine’s behalf at the term “pet project.” But Rome and I could
hash that out later. Right now my mind was buzzing with images of what I’d soon
be up against. Mind readers—I’d have to erect a mind shield to protect my
thoughts. Something I’d learned during my dealings with Lexis, who could also
read minds. Misters—they could walk through walls. Because of Sunny, I knew
that if you got them to solidify inside a wall or other object, they would die.
Shifters—they could mutate into any animal imaginable, and some that weren’t.
Because of Rome, I knew how ferocious they could be. Illusionists—they could
change their, and others’, surroundings with only a thought, making everyone think
they were somewhere they weren’t.

I
hadn’t experienced that last one yet, but knew if I continued in this line of
work it was only a matter of time before I did.

“How
will I be able to spot the drainers?” I asked. I didn’t want to go down like
Tanner had.

“Sometimes
you can just sense it.” He shifted gears. “Ever been around someone, walked
away and felt tired?”

I
thought it over. “Yes.”

“Well,
there you go. Sometimes, though, you can tell just by sight. An experienced
drainer will wear clothes that cover them from head to toe, leaving only their
faces exposed. They know who to touch, when to touch them. The less experienced
ones, well, they don’t know how to hold the energy or water or whatever their
bodies crave in excess inside themselves, so their cheeks appear sunken, their
skin sallow and flaky, their bodies sluggish. They’ll touch anyone who’s
foolish enough to get close to them to replenish their supply.”