Playing with Fire

“He tried to stab me, “ I whispered, going pale. “I remember seeing his weapon.”

Rome blinked in surprise. “No. He tried to kidnap you. He tried to stab me. You know an awful lot for someone who was supposedly asleep.”

“I only saw bits and pieces, but I thought … I thought it was a dream.”

“No, no dream.” He pinched a bite of eggs. “What else did you see?”

“There was a jaguar there. I saw—” My brow furrowed. “Surely I’m wrong. Surely there wasn’t a wild animal in my apartment.”

“No, of course there wasn’t,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re blending your dreams with reality.”

But the sights, the sounds had been so real. So vivid. Uh, hello. If a jungle cat had been there, there would be signs. Like a gnawed-off arm. “Who was the man?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I didn’t care to stop and ask his name. All I know is that his boss, Vincent, won’t be pleased with the failure. Vincent will send more agents, and honey, trust me when I say you do not want them to capture you. I’ve seen what Vincent does to his victims. He’ll test you, painfully, cruelly, in ways even my boss has outlawed. And then, if you’re still alive, he’ll force you by whatever means necessary to work for him.”

Terrifying words, but Rome wasn’t finished. “And don’t think you can lie to him, tell him you’ll work for him and escape. His power is making people tell the truth. No one can lie to the man. No one. And it’s not because some women find him attractive, “ he added drily.

Attractive. Pretty Boy. Vincent. It made sense. I’d wanted to tell Pretty Boy all my secrets, I recalled. The pulse in my neck hammered wildly. “Isn’t that what your boss wants to do to me? Test me, then make me work for him?”

“Not painfully, and not by force. You’ll either do what he wants or be imprisoned like the other naughty supernatural beings.”

“What kind of supernatural beings are we talking about?”

“Shape-shifters of every kind. People who can walk through walls or suck the soul right out of you. I believe I mentioned the people whose bodily fluids are so toxic they’ll kill you if they even breathe on you. Shall I go on?”

I shook my head. All of those things, creatures, living weapons … yet … “Why haven’t I ever heard of these people before, Rome? Why does no one know of them?”

“PSI is damn good at its job, that’s why. We make sure the world remains ignorant about the paras. About scrims. About all of it.”

Dear God. “Scrims?”

“Scrims are supernatural criminals. Vincent is a scrim because he inflicts unnecessary pain, he kills when he could lock away, and he enjoys doing it. But he also captures and controls other scrims—in fact, he’s captured more than anyone else and any other agency, so the government caters to him. They allow him to live, turning a blind eye to his experiments.”

It was too much to take in, almost unbelievable. “Are … are scrims born or made?”

“Some are born, some are made. The more experiments are done, the more scrims are born. It’s a vicious cycle.” His expression softened. “What I told you about the prison is true, too. Château Villain, as we’ve affectionately dubbed it, is very real, and you won’t like it. A sassy little thing like you would end up as Venom’s bitch.”

“Venom?”

“She used to work for Vincent. Her saliva has deadly toxins, and if she kisses you …”

I swallowed.

“Vincent is one of the reasons PSI exists. Fixing the catastrophes he and his brotherhood of assholes cause is a full-time job.” Rome canted his head, considering me. “Do you remember that big warehouse fire in Chicago last year? The one that killed forty-two people and was blamed on faulty wiring? Lie. Vincent was testing the four-elements formula. Like I told you, several people burst into flames.”

I shuddered, and felt the vibration to the bone. “Why does he want people to control the four elements? Why kill them for it?”

“Think about it. He can cause a drought, then, if the price is right, he can save everyone with a rainstorm. He’ll make money from it, exploit it, kill people with it. Control people with it.”

My God. My mouth dried a little more with every word Rome spoke. If my hands hadn’t been bound, I would have covered my ears so I wouldn’t have to hear anymore. There was a villainous world out there I’d once thought could never touch or affect me. How wrong I’d been. I mourned the loss of such innocence.