Twice as Hot (25 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #General, #Romance: Modern, #Romance - Contemporary

BOOK: Twice as Hot
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The
sedan preserved the same, short distance between us.

Thirty.

Yep.
Once again, there was an increase.

Why
would the driver be so blithe about this? He—she?—didn’t seem to care that I
knew what was going on.

“Parked
car approaching,” Sherridan said, gaining my attention.

I
switched my gaze to the road and swerved to avoid impact with a pickup. “Thank
you.”

“Anytime.”

My
cell phone beeped, and Sherridan quickly pressed speaker again.

“I’m
almost there,” Rome said without preamble. “And John did not put a tail on you.
You okay?”

“Yeah.
Thankfully, they aren’t doing anything menacing. They’re just keeping pace with
us.”

“Could
be Memory Man,” he said, voicing my earlier thought. “Can you see the driver?”

“Not
even a hint. The windows are too dark.”

He
cursed. “A man who can make you forget that you’ve seen him wouldn’t worry
about keeping his identity hidden, so I doubt it’s him.”

Good
point. So who was it? “If they wanted to talk to me, why not do it while I was
loading my supplies in my car? I would have been a captive audience.”

“The
security there. The cameras. We’ll find out. Later. Right now I only care about
your emotions. How are they?” Rome asked.

“Fine,
they’re fine.” I turned the wheel to avoid another parked car, then eased back
to my side of the road. “No freezing or—”

Something
shattered my back window. Startled, I accidentally swerved, my right front tire
popping a curve.

Sherridan
screamed.

“Duck,”
I shouted, hammering my foot on the gas and revving us to sixty in just a few
seconds. Fear swam through me.

Thankfully
she obeyed, throwing herself on the floorboard. Her eyes were wide as saucers
as she panted, “What about you?”

“What
the hell happened?” Rome demanded before I could reply.

“They
freaking shot at us!” Sweat broke out over my skin, but the fear still surging
through me instantly froze it, leaving me covered in a fine sheen of ice.

There
was a loud
pop,
then a bang, something slamming into the back of the
car, causing us to jerk forward and back. Sherridan belted out another scream.

“Belle!”
Rome. “Talk to me. Are you hit?”

“They
just rammed us, and I think they flattened a tire, but we’re good.” But for how
long? I was coming to a dead end. “I’m going left on…Maple,” I said. I didn’t
let my foot off the gas, so the tires (or what was left of them) squealed.

“I
see them,” Rome growled. “Go left on Pine and then keep going straight. There’s
an exit to the main road about three blocks down.”

At
the next turn, I spiked the wheel. Once again the tires squealed and Sherridan
and I were thrown to the side as the car veered sharply. “What are you going to
do to them? I don’t want to leave you to—”

“Do
what I told you.”
Click.

From
the rearview, I watched as Rome’s sedan approached. (See? A sedan.) Closer to
them…closer. He slammed his car into theirs. Both pivoted, and Rome rammed
forward again. This time, the bad guy’s vehicle turned a full circle.

I
lifted my foot from the pedal, cracking the ice that had bloomed from me and
bound me to it, and the car slowed. I took another turn, then another, wanting
Sherridan as far away from the action as I could get her. Unfortunately, the
cold sweat had solidified all over me, making my motions stiff, my clothing
uncompromising. The ice had even slithered to the car’s dash, freezing the
gauges. Much more, and the car itself would be useless.

Glancing
around, I found a shadowed alcove in the back of a house. Sure, I didn’t know
who the house belonged to and the owners didn’t know me or Sherridan, but I
pulled into the garage and parked anyway.

“Rome
said to head to the main road.”

“Yes,
well, I haven’t pledged to love, honor and obey him yet. Stay with the car,” I
told Sherridan as I unbuckled. Rome would need help, so help he would get.

“No.
I—”

“If
you don’t, the home owners might try to have it towed. Don’t let anyone inside.
Oh, and there’s a gun in the glove box. If you feel threatened, start shooting
and ask questions later.” I didn’t give her time to refuse me. I just hopped
out of the car and booked it to the street where I’d left Rome. Along the way,
I allowed my fear to grow and fester. Soon, even the street beneath me
possessed a patina of ice. My agency-regulated boots slipped and slid, and
twice I almost fell. Somehow, though, I managed to maintain my balance.

What
would I find? Rome—shot to death? God, I hated thinking like that, but right
now it was to my benefit. Even as I thought it, ice balls formed in both of my
hands. I clutched them tightly, keeping them at the ready.

Finally,
the two combatants came into view. No one had emerged from their cars. Instead,
the vehicles were still ramming together, metal crunching against metal. In the
distance, I could hear sirens. Much longer, and the police would arrive. PSI
would have to do cleanup, and that would piss John off royally. The world could
not learn about the paranormal underground cohabiting with them. They’d panic.
They’d probably try and hunt us down, kill us all. Melodramatic? I didn’t think
so. I’d watched all four X-Men movies.

I
had to get Rome out of here before someone attempted to arrest him. But how?

I
inched closer to the action, doing my best to remain hidden by bushes. Rome finally
managed to pin the bad guy’s car into a tree. He threw open his door, staying
low to the ground. His assailant got out, too, but I couldn’t see him because
he was low to the ground. Through the slit between road and car I could see his
feet, though. Boots. Big boots. Definitely a man.

“State
your business,” Rome demanded.

“We
just want the girl.”

We?

Another
pair of feet hit the ground. Then another. Dear God. There were three men—all
training their weapons on Rome, most likely. Teeth grinding together, I
sharpened my focus to the man closest to me, the one who made the mistake of
straightening to try and ferret out Rome’s location, and let one of my burdens
fly. I missed. The ice ball slammed into their car, spreading quickly and
lethally.

“Get
back!” Rome shouted at me.

A
pop.
A
whiz.

I
dove for the ground. I didn’t feel the bullet sail overhead but I knew that one
had, the air above me blistering.
Move! You’re out in the open.
I rolled
as swiftly as I could, hiding behind a fence of bushes.

Another
pop.
Another
whiz.
The dirt just in front of the bushes exploded,
spraying in every direction.

“Why?”
Rome asked, drawing their attention away from me. “Why do you want her?”

Damn
him! I didn’t want them shooting at him, either.

Pop.
Bang. Pop. Bang.

I
knew that sound well. As I’d feared, they were shooting at Rome, their bullets
slamming into the car’s metal frame. What should I do? What the hell should I
do?

“Why
else?” an unfamiliar voice said. “Money.”

“Who
wants her?” Rome. “Maybe we can work something out.”

There
was a snort.

I
couldn’t see anyone through the thick green foliage, and perhaps that was for
the best. The grass underneath me turned to ice, the bushes wilting under the
weight of the crystals. I crouched lower. What would Rome do if he were in my
position? Just stand up and start tossing ice?

“You’re
all right,” a voice suddenly whispered from behind me.

I
almost screamed in shock and fear. My gaze jerked left and right, up and down,
searching, but I found no one. “Who’s there?” I whispered back.

“I
won’t let anything happen to you, Belle.” Another
pop
rent the air, this
one so close my eardrums almost burst. “I swear it.”

A
howl of pain echoed from behind the smashed cars. Not Rome’s, thank God. Then a
round of bullets was pumped my way—until Rome and my guardian angel began
pumping out rounds of their own.

Another
howl.

“Two
down,” the husky voice behind me said. A male voice. Warm. Somehow familiar.

Dear
Lord. Memory Man. And I had an ice ball with his name on it. “Where are you?”

“To
your left, behind the wall of the house.”

Slowly,
so as not to draw attention to myself, I turned. A man peeked out from behind
the wall, exactly where he’d said he was, smiling over at me, there one moment,
gone the next. There was no time to toss the ice, which was why he’d probably
hidden so quickly. I’d caught the barest glimpse of sandy hair, thirtyish
features and a tall, perhaps a little lean body. He’d been too far away to tell
what color his eyes were, though I thought they were dark. He was handsome,
that much I had seen.

“I
thought I told you to be careful,” he said.

Like
this was my fault. “I was driving, minding my own business,” I replied,
scanning the area for another sign of him.

He
let out a long-suffering sigh. “You can’t help it, I suppose. You’re a magnet
for trouble.”

“Tell
me something I don’t know,” I muttered. “But can you see why it would be a good
idea to return Rome’s memories to him? This is the kinda thing I’m always
embroiling my boyfriends in.”

“You
misunderstood me, darling Belle. I happen to love trouble.”

“You’d
be wise to let me take her,” someone snarled from the cars, drawing my
attention away from Memory Man and saving me from thinking up a response.
“Otherwise, more and more men like us are going to be coming after her.”

Like
them—a.k.a. assassins, I thought, stomach churning with sickness. I’d been
marked for death, then. Again. When would it end?

“Why?”
Rome repeated.

Footsteps
echoed. Theirs? Rome’s? I lifted my fist, the one that still contained an ice
ball, and prepared. But my ears began ringing before I could launch it,
startling me. No, wait. The
sirens
were ringing, impossibly loud.

The
authorities had arrived.

Shit!
Before I could panic, Rome was at my side, panting, beautiful. Clearly furious.
I didn’t know who he was at first—only that someone had snuck up on me—and
threw the ice. He’d been expecting it, though, and ducked. It sailed over his
shoulder, hit the front door of the house and turned it into a large popsicle.

He
scowled down at me, keeping an inch between us so that he didn’t freeze like
the door. “Foolish woman. I could have gone after them, found out what they
wanted with you, rather than scramble after you on guard duty.”

“And
you could have died. You can’t do everything on your own. Trying will only get
you killed.” I searched once again for M-Squared, but didn’t catch another
glimpse of him. “If you hurt him,” I called to Memory Man, “I will hate you
forever.”

No
response.

Rome
eyed me strangely. “Hit your head?”

I
didn’t reply. He ignored my questions at times. I’d ignore his. “Where is he?
The survivor, I mean? And should we, like, make a getaway?”

“He
ran. And yes. First, where’s your gun? Nice aim, by the way.”

“I
don’t have a gun.”

“How’d
you shoot at the men, then?” In the distance, policemen shouted commands at
each other. Footsteps pounded. “Never mind. Tell me later. Right now, you’ve
got to calm down and we’ve got to get out of here before we’re arrested.”

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

We
backed away
from the house, staying low to the ground. Only when we were hidden by brick
did we stand. And for the next fifteen minutes, we hiked silently through the
neighborhood, always careful to hide when someone emerged from their home or a
car drove past. Finally we reached Sherridan. She was in the process of backing
our Honda out of the garage where I’d parked it as the owner of said garage
yelled and waved his hands at her.

“What—”
I began, only to be cut off.

“Get
in,” Rome commanded.

He
threw open one door, and I threw open another. Sherridan screeched as we
settled inside. Me in back. Rome in front. The driver’s seat, to be exact,
shoving Sherridan out of the way.

“You
scared the pee out of me.” Her hand fluttered over her heart. “What the hell’s
been going on? I heard multiple gunshots.”

Rome
floored it, lurching out of the driveway and onto the street. “Get down and
stay down, ladies.”

Both
of us ducked without protest.

“The
gauges are wet,” he said, confused.

“They’re
thawing. I, uh, accidentally froze them.” Thankfully, I’d managed to get my
emotions—and thereby my powers—under control with thoughts of M-Squared. He was
out there, watching. Protecting. Best of all, I knew deep down he’d approach me
again. He’d enjoyed our interactions; that much was obvious. More than that, he
was still determined to prove to me we could be happy together.

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