Page 22 of Born Reckless
As I look back across the table, I don’t think Roman does either.
“Serious relationships?” he asks next, his brows dropping into a furrow. “Anyone who might come looking for you?”
My fingers, which were lying flat on the tabletop, curl with anger and embarrassment. My fingernails dig into the plastic. Only it feels like butter with my newfound, inhuman strength. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this. “No,” I answer, my voice low and dangerous. “I don’t have a boyfriend, a fiancé, a husband. I don’t have any best friends back home who are going to miss me. My supervisor might get a little annoyed when I stop showing up, but even she won’t give it more than a minute’s thought.”
“A face like that, and you’re all alone?” he asks, and the surprise isn’t hidden from his face.
“Roman,” Elena hisses. She takes a step forward, but her brother’s hand snaps out, grabbing her wrist, stopping her. “We all know you’re an ass. You don’t have to go proving it to her on her first night here.”
Just barely, a smile crooks in one corner of his mouth. He enjoys this. He enjoys the interrogation. He enjoys making people squirm. “Just a few more questions.”
“I’ve vouched for her,” Elena says. Her temper is rising, and I smile as I watch it. “I’m a council member for night’s sake. That should be good enough.”
“But Chicago’s safety isn’t your charge, now is it?” the man says, cocking his head to the side again and staring her down.
Elena’s lips narrow to a thin line, but she bites her tongue.
Roman looks back at me with the slide of his eyes. “I understand you’re coming here because you’re on the run from someone. Is there any chance they followed you here?”
I lean back in my seat, getting tired of this interrogation. “I don’t know. The draining happened in Las Vegas. We went to St. Louis from there. Then we came here.”
“I never gave the man my name,” Elena says. “My jet is registered under a shell company. Unless he hopped on the wing, and came along for the ride, there’s no way he could know where we are.”
“Chicago will remain safe and quiet,” I say. I tilt my head to the side, just like Roman did a moment ago.
His eyes narrow for just a second. People are never sure what to think of me when they first meet me. I’m all of five feet three inches. My blonde hair and sun freckled nose and cheeks make people expect a perky, happy California beach girl.
That’s not me. Not after all the things that have happened to me. After all the bad choices I’ve made. After I woke up from the dead two days ago and found the world was so much more complicated than I ever knew.
“Elena might have your back,” Roman says. “But if he comes looking for you, no one in this city is going to lay down their life protecting you.”
“You’re not telling me anything new,” I say as I pick at my nail polish, even if his words sting.
“Roman,” Mason growls.
“We shouldn’t be letting you in here,” Roman interrupts. “You killed the daughter of a member of the House of Valdez. That puts you on the radar of the Royals. Which is exactly what we’re avoiding here in Chicago.”
“This is why we have the barrier in place,” Elena says, looking over at the man sitting on the stool. He fidgets, like he’s nervous. His left leg bounces up and down quickly and he picks at a hangnail absentmindedly. “We’ll know the second he crosses over if he makes it here.”
“Chicago is a safe haven,” Roman continues, ignoring her. He doesn’t lean back, he doesn’t lessen that intense stare for even one second. “For centuries the Born have bent to the will of the Royals and those damn Houses. Chicago operates under the neglectful watch of a fire-haired idiot. We fly under the radar. Here, the Royals mean nothing. Dozens have come to Chicago as refugees, seeking safety, solace. It’s become a mecca for those that aremore. Not just the vampires. But for those that are like him.” He nods toward the man sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. “There are hundreds of beings here who need Chicago to remain a safe place. Chicago is invisible to the outside world. We never, ever speak about Chicago.”
My heart starts beating faster as I listen to him. What he’s describing, it sounds… wonderful. It sounds… safe.
Elena promised I’d be safe in Chicago.
Safety doesn’t even seem real to me. I can’t recall a single day in my life where I’ve truly felt safe.
“I understand,” I say, my voice hoarse. “And I swear, no one will ever hear the truth about Chicago from me.”
Roman continues to stare at me. With those insane eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could see all the way to my soul and read the truth right from my bones. “One more thing,” he says. “If you create any Bitten, it’s an immediate death sentence here. You’re fresh, meaning your control is nearly nonexistent. So I’m warning you now. Watch your feeding.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “Bitten?”
“I’ll explain it later,” Elena says with a sigh and the roll of her eyes. When Roman casts a dark glare in her direction, she just shakes her head. “It’s been two days, okay? We’ve covered a lot of ground in that time, but every single detail can’t be told in that amount of time.”
Roman continues to glare, and I see the look of dark contemplation behind his eyes.
“Ink her,” he finally says. He pushes his chair back and stands. He goes to stand in front of Elena, staring down his nose at her. “She screws up and it’s going to be your head.”