Playing With Fire
“A daughter!—he shoved to his feet, skidding his stool backward. He prowled to the far counter and withdrew something from one of the drawers. He kept his back to me. “You’re going to help me, right?” he asked.“Whatever you say, boss,” I said uncertainly. What was he doing?“Good.” He pivoted on his heel and came toward me carrying a—ohmygod! He was holding a knife!Gasping, I jolted backward and tumbled off the stool. I landed with a thump, the cold linoleum floor doing nothing to cushion my fall. A sharp pain shot up my arms. Air shield, air shield. I needed a freaking air shield. But my hands were tied, literally! I tried to scramble back, pushing with my feet, but I wasn’t fast enough. Rome reached me and tsked under his breath.“So suspicious,” he said.“How can you do this?” I cried. What I wouldn’t give to hold out my arms and blast him with an air shield. If only I could will that power to work without the use of my hands. “I’ll—I’ll fry you. I’ll rip you apart with a tornado.
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