As Cold As Ice

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As Cold As Ice Page 5

by Mandy Rosko


  Charles wrote quickly, hanging onto her every word.

  It didn't matter if she gave the address to Layton. It didn't matter if she gave it to anyone at all. Jack would know not to try and contact her through those accounts. He was smarter than that.

  She hoped he was, anyway.

  "Wonderful," Layton said. "I see we can have this little mix-up cleared sooner than we'd planned."

  Jessica smiled. "I hope so."

  "Coffee?" Layton offered.

  Jessica accepted, and Layton pressed a button somewhere on his desk and ordered two cups. He didn't so much as mention anything for Soren or Charles.

  The rest of the meeting went by pretty well. Jessica thought so, anyway, which in turn made her paranoid. What if it was a trick by Layton to get her to lower her guard, when she still needed to be watching out for anything and everything that could land her in a basement cell for the rest of her life?

  She tried not to let that bother her. She tried not to think about it, though a trickle of sweat did bead at the back of her neck, slowly sliding down centimeter by centimeter. It made her neck itch, but she forced her lips to continue smiling, showed off her white teeth, and continued to answer questions.

  Soren told her to be honest, so she was as honest as she could be about everything. The more truth she put into her story, the less she would have to remember later.

  She told Layton about how her parents had thrown her and Ethan out of the house. Her for being dangerous, and Ethan for not wanting her to go. She told them Ethan was a good citizen and loyal to Layton's cause, and that it had actually been his idea to work for Head Office, to prove that she, as a paranormal, could be safe to be around and useful to the people who needed the protection of the hunters.

  If Ethan was ever caught, then he'd say the same thing. They'd rehearsed this a time or two before.

  The tricky part came when she had to explain why Ethan was in hiding, and why he wouldn't try to come back and turn himself in.

  "That's my fault," Jessica said. "It's not his fault, please don't blame him."

  It was hard to say words like that with a smile on her face when the last thing in the world she felt like doing was smiling.

  "Oh? Please explain then." Though Layton was smiling, a slight twitch beside his eyes told her he didn't like where this was going.

  Jessica cleared her throat. She shifted in her seat, only realizing she'd done it after it happened. Great, she definitely looked like she was scared and trying to hide something.

  Maybe he didn't notice. Why wasn't Soren beside her? Why did it have to be Charles?

  "Ethan and I prepared for the day when I might be found out. We agreed that if something ever happened, if I ever wanted to confess, that I would stay behind and he would go. It was one thing for me to want to turn myself in, since I'm a paranormal, but he's just normal. There's nothing different about him. I decided that the risk of him going to prison was too much. If I ever turned myself in, then he was to run, and he wasn't to tell me where he was going."

  Layton's smile slowly slipped from his mouth, his gaze turning into something that made Jessica twitch in her seat again.

  "That was before, though," she added quickly. "I don't think...I guess what I'm trying to say is that neither of us thought this through too well. Now that I'm here, and I'm able to tell you what happened, I think it would be good for him to come in."

  "And, do you have a way of contacting him?"

  Jessica shook her head. "Not directly. I don't know how he left or when, but that was another rule. No phones. They're too easy to track. If he were to hear from me, or even just know I'm still working for you, and that you believe I can still be of use as a hunter, then he'll know to come back."

  Okay, she'd kissed ass enough. It was time to show her honesty and let Layton see she meant business.

  Her eyes hardened on the man. Layton watched her coolly. "After the time I spent locked in the basement, I'm glad we decided on this, for him to wait before coming back. I don't care what the law is, I would rather he run away than spend almost a month locked downstairs like that."

  She didn't mention the other paranormals who were thrown into her cell. Nor did she discuss the shower she almost never used, not until the smell of her own body got to be so unbearable that she was unwilling to put up with it, even knowing several men were watching from behind a camera, or a two-way mirror.

  She didn't mention any of that, because the odds were better than perfect that he already knew about it. He might've even watched a couple of those shower videos himself.

  Her small outburst of sisterly affection, showing off the need to protect her family, must've been real enough to convince Layton, because his calm smile returned.

  "That's more than fair. So, if Ethan Frost sees you working the field, either on camera or through some other source, then he'll know you are not being held against your will, and he will return to work for us, as well."

  Jessica nodded, even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. "Yeah, that's about it."

  Layton’s smile chilled her to the core, frostier than her powers could have ever done.

  It was a relief when he called Charles and Soren forward to have a word with them, though somewhat irritating when he acted like she wasn’t in the room.

  The thing that was the most telling, however, was when Layton nodded to Charles, and Charles backed off. The man walked right up to Jessica and offered his hand, helping her to her feet.

  His palm was clammy, and she freed herself from it as soon as possible. She turned to look back at Soren and Layton, speaking so close, but that was all she could make out when the door was shut, and the stormtrooper guard stood in her way, blocking her from even looking in the crack between the two doors.

  Not that she would’ve done something like that.

  “I didn’t know Soren and Layton worked so closely together,” Jessica said. Her voice sounded good and calm. Not quite casual, but there wasn’t anything remotely casual about this experience, so she didn’t think she could be blamed for that.

  Charles huffed. “You hunters don’t normally spend so much time in this building, so it’s no wonder. Soren keeps his mouth shut about it and doesn’t ever tell anyone what he’s doing.”

  When they entered the elevator and the doors closed, Charles looked at her abruptly, as if just then remembering that he and Jessica weren’t quite on the same level anymore. Layton still hadn’t decided if she could be trusted enough to work on the Proxy Project, so that still made her a prisoner.

  He smiled, and his laugh came out sounding somewhat forced and nervous. “But never mind that. Say, I know what would make a good treat. How about I walk you down to the cafeteria, the real one where the employees eat. You and I can get some limp iceberg leaf salads with two-day-old sandwiches. Sound good?”

  He was trying to turn on the charm, and though she had no interest in spending time with him, or dealing with his flirting, the thought of food that wasn’t mashed into a goop, plus being able to eat with actual utensils, sounded so amazingly wonderful her stomach growled.

  She forced herself to smile back at Charles, but all the while she thought of Soren. Upstairs. Talking to Layton about God only knew what. “That sounds great.”

  Chapter Six

  Jessica ate lunch with Charles, and yes, using a fork and knife, even if they were plastic, felt pretty damned good. Only a few people stared at her, some faces she recognized, others she didn't.

  She assumed the glares were because of the employees she'd injured when she'd helped Jack and Cindy escape.

  She thought over her story and what she'd told to Layton as best as she could while still listening to Charles prattle on about this new project, how helpful she would be.

  There were so many problems with her story. It was believable, but only if Layton thought Jessica was the kind of girl to let her emotions get the better of her.

  It wasn't so believable if he thought she was too s
trong-willed for that.

  And Jessica's assumption was that he wanted someone who was strong to be able to hunt down paranormals undercover.

  The problem with the entire thing was that if Jessica were to judge herself, she knew she wasn't the right type of person for the job. She was the kind of woman who allowed her emotions to get the better of her, who would do rash things for someone she loved.

  She loved Jack—not as strong as a lover, not anymore, but he was definitely a friend, and they had a history together.

  That had been enough for her to act when she found out what was going on. She'd thrown her life away so her ex-boyfriend could go off and live happily ever after with the woman he'd spent a majority of their relationship talking about.

  That was probably why they had ended it.

  And then she was thinking about Soren, about the surprised look on his face when she'd kissed him, and how long it had been since Jessica had sex.

  God, was it only because he had some authority over her? Was one of her jailers? Really? That was what turned her on? It was one thing if that was a turn-on while she was still safely hiding her secret from the world, but this was happening in real life. She actually was a prisoner, and the only reason why she wanted to be put on this stupid Proxy Project was because it was her best ticket out.

  Fuck. She was screwed. So screwed. That was not what she should’ve been thinking about.

  "Are you all right?"

  Jessica jumped a little, coming out of her inappropriate thoughts. Charles was watching her, and there was some genuine worry in his eyes.

  Sometimes, she forgot he wasn't a total creep. He just had zero social skills.

  "You know you can tell me anything you want, right?" he asked, leaning in close, his hand coming to rest on her thigh.

  High up on her thigh.

  So much for the creepy bit. He probably just got better at hiding it.

  The only reason why Jessica didn't shove his hand away was because she couldn't. Charles was still one of the men she had to keep in good favor with.

  So she put on the helpless girl routine again, looking down at her empty Styrofoam plates to make her appear all shy and lost in the whirl of things. "I guess I'm just worried. What if Mr. Layton doesn't think I'm qualified for the job? I mean, with how I was found out...he might not think I'm up for it."

  Charles drank up her words, nodding along, his eyes never leaving hers. They looked slightly beady behind those round glasses.

  Jessica deserved her own special medal in acting when his hand slid up and down her thigh, in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture, and she didn't shiver, or push him away, or punch him in the nose.

  His nose was just begging to be smashed inside out.

  "I wouldn't worry too much about it. I know you're capable for this job, and so does Soren. He's just as adamant as I am to get you what you need, I promise you."

  "He is? Why?"

  Charles puffed himself up, sitting back in his chair, which was a good thing because then his hand had to slip away from her thigh. "Because I told him to, of course. He knows to follow my lead."

  Jessica didn't know when she was going to get anymore information, or what source it would be from. Therefore, since she was sitting there, almost like an equal, she figured it was time to at least do a little digging. Even if it had to be through the mud.

  "Are you his superior?" she asked, leaning forward and putting her elbows onto the table, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on top.

  Jessica gave Charles all of her attention at that point. She even put a little sparkle in her eye, as if the idea of Charles having power over someone else turned her on.

  She'd been on enough dates to know what signals to give off, when to not be too friendly, and when to really turn it on when she wanted a guy's attention.

  It worked so easily. Charles preened under her attention. He might've even grown an inch or two taller in his seat.

  "Of course I am. I'm the managing director of our department. All projects need to be filtered through me."

  "I see. So, Soren's only talking to Mr. Layton because he's being given instructions? Something that has to go through you then, right?"

  Jessica wasn't even sure if she'd phrased that properly. She wanted to give Charles the impression that she believed he basically ran this place, and she needed to act like an airhead to do it.

  Charles frowned and made a seesawing motion with his hand. "He can stand in, of course, and from time to time during a meeting. Mr. Layton asks for his opinion on certain things. He was hired here for his own specialties, of course, so that's to be expected. But yes, whatever they're talking about, I will soon be privy to."

  Knowing Charles, and how he wanted to constantly make himself look better than he actually was, made it easy enough to detect that he was a lot more uncomfortable with whatever Soren and Layton were talking about than he was giving off.

  He was jealous. Big-time. Probably the standard type of office and work jealousy. The kind that meant he thought Soren was up for taking his position.

  She wasn't about to tell him that, however, since that would likely just soil his mood.

  Still trying to win him over, she bit the bullet and reached her hand over, placing it on top of his. Charles looked down at their hands then up into her eyes. There was a split-second of surprise there before his unfounded confidence soared to life, and he looked at her as if it had only been a matter of time before she'd start giving him these little touchy-feely hints.

  "Anyway, I want you to know how grateful I am that you're looking out for me. It's different being on the other end. Scary, you know? And I guess I just wanted to let you know that you're making this so much easier for me."

  She wanted to yank out her own tongue. She really did.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught the way some people shook their heads, disgusted with the act she put on for Charles. She ignored them, though, and Charles didn't even seem to notice as he placed his hand on top of hers.

  Great, they were holding hands and leaning in close together like a couple of lovebirds.

  "You will have nothing to fear so long as I'm around," Charles said, his voice not quite a whisper, but nowhere near the tone and pitch of normal speak.

  Fuck. Was he about to lean in and kiss her? What was she supposed to do if he did? He was leaning in. He was actually going to go for it.

  What should I do? What should I do? Fuck. Fuck!

  Someone cleared their throat hard and heavy above them. Jessica yanked away from Charles before their mouths could touch, startled.

  Soren stood above them, holding another clipboard. He wasn't frowning, glaring, or doing anything like that. The look on his face, however…Wow. Just wow.

  The blank but not blank look on his face, along with the firm set of his mouth, told her he was seething on the inside.

  “Sorry, but I need to take Jessica from you.”

  Charles frowned. “What for?”

  “For her work-up,” Soren said. “Mr. Layton wants an evaluation of how well her abilities are holding up after her time in confinement.”

  Soren pulled a sheet off his clipboard and passed it to Charles, who took it and read it over. He sighed and handed it back. “All right, fine. I have other things to attend to anyway,” he relented then turned his smile back to Jessica, letting his hand slide over hers one last time in a way she didn’t like. “Until next time.”

  Jessica was saved for the time being, but she had to be anxious about every time she saw Charles from then on, especially if he thought she was offering something she wasn’t.

  “Let’s go,” Soren said, his voice harsh. It was harder than it had ever been, even after Jessica threatened to expose him. He didn’t touch her, didn’t grab her or force her to her feet, either.

  Something about that seemed off. Jessica stood, grabbing her mess and throwing it in the trash. The people around her might’ve hated her guts, but she wasn�
��t about to let any of them accuse her of being rude, or a slob. If they all wanted a reason to hate her, then they were going to have fall back on the classics.

  She was too dangerous. She had scary powers and so on and so on.

  She followed Soren out of the employee cafeteria. He marched with a stiff spine and didn’t look back at her once. Was he really angry? Because Charles had been flirting with her?

  He led her down the hall to the nearest elevator. When they entered and she noted he pressed the button that would lead them down to the bottom floor, every muscle in her body locked into place. “The basement?”

  “You’re not going back to your cell,” Soren said. “I wasn’t lying to Charles. Mr. Layton really does want an assessment of your power.”

  “Right, okay. So then my shackles will come off,” she said.

  Soren nodded. “Right, and if you want to keep them off, then you shouldn’t call them shackles. You know how much PR hates that.”

  Right. Jessica was going to have to remember that. Especially if she ever had an audience with Mr. Layton again. For all she knew, he was watching her at that very moment.

  Not knowing how much they were allowed to say on the ride down, yet unable to keep her mouth shut because of the anxiety surging through her, she shivered with the idea of having to go downstairs.

  “Are you cold?” Soren asked.

  “No,” Jessica said.

  His voice became a touch softer. “I meant it. This isn’t a trick to put you back into isolation. I just need to get you to a room where you can let loose your powers.”

  Jessica inhaled a deep breath then slowly let it out again. She decided she was going to believe him on that part. What else could she do?

  The doors opened and they were walking again, passing the same concrete, cold walls with the same blue lighting. The guards were all exactly as they’d been when she’d first been brought down there, and then let out again.

  Though she hadn’t exactly walked these halls a whole lot before, Jessica had the feeling that not a lot happened down there; these men were just for show whenever a prisoner did have to be moved.

 

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