As Cold As Ice

by Mandy Rosko

  No one in her group knew why Jessica was taking the test a second time. If they knew she was a paranormal, then it was too much information floating around with too many people. Better for them to know nothing about who she was when it came time for her to escape with the other prisoners they were planning on letting go.

  It was pretty much the same that time around. A paranormal was brought out, someone who had the power to turn their body into very strong harsh stone. The rock that became his skin was so tough and sharp in some places, especially around the joints, that one of the recruits cut themselves pretty badly trying to contain the man.

  “Arrest him!” shouted one recruit, pointing a long finger, fire and vengeance in his eyes as his friend was carted away.

  None of the guards standing around moved, though. The gargoyle looked worried as he shifted, stone becoming skin again, but Soren was calm as he stared at the recruit. “Why?”

  The angry recruit sputtered, like he wasn’t sure what the question was even for. “What do you mean, why? That paranormal cut up my cousin! Fucking arrest him!”

  “Leonard is a member of our staff, and not someone you will harass because your cousin was too damned slow to make the cut,” Soren said.

  Jessica almost couldn’t believe her ears at the rare show of insolence out of him. It was out of character and shockingly alpha-like.

  She liked it. It was sexy.

  The angry recruit turned bright red, right before he smiled and stepped back in line. There was one like him in every group, Jessica was told. There had been a snobby, precious jerk in the group Jessica and Ethan had been in when they got their license. Someone who didn’t like to be wrong, who hated not getting his way and was going to try and stir up shit whenever no one was looking.

  Perfect. She could already plan out how this was going to happen in her head. Murphy’s Law stated that this asshole had to be involved in some dick-ish plot in the future that would try to fuck her over.

  Not happy. She wasn’t at all happy with that.

  One by one, the recruits went on to try and catch the gargoyle, including the angry recruit from before.

  He actually managed to catch him. Using brute strength, he got up behind the paranormal and stuck his hands under the man’s neck, trying to choke him.

  When that didn’t work, he grabbed for the gargoyles eyes, which did.

  The gargoyle arched back. The recruit didn’t get the chance to really sink his fingers in, which was a good thing. However, in the thrashing and yelling and churning of their bodies, he did get a shackle on his wrists just as the wings on the gargoyle’s back unfolded and launched outwards, throwing the asshole recruit off.

  It was too late, though. The shackle was already doing its job, and the stone of the gargoyle’s skin started to crumble away into nothingness. He had to quickly fold his wings back into his body before they could fall off and shatter on the floor like dry clay, too.

  The asshole recruit hooted and cheered, puffing his chest out and peacocking in front of the other recruits, who clapped and cheered for him, like the paranomal’s bleeding eyes were the bees’ knees.

  It had pretty much been exactly like this when Ethan and Jessica signed up to get their hunting licenses.

  If these guys all wanted to see a show, then they should’ve just headed down to one of the paranormal carnivals. It irritated Jessica that these men thought they were professionals in anything.

  They probably couldn’t even professionally mow a lawn, the jackasses.

  Soren checked on the gargoyle paranormal, taking out a pocket light and shining it into the man’s eyes. Thankfully, it seemed that any blood was coming from the skin around his eyes, and Jessica still couldn’t figure out how that worked. He blinked several times, as though trying to get his vision back in check, then nodded to Soren, indicating he could still work.

  For paranormals working for Head Office, they were paid based on days worked, not hours. If that man was too injured to work, even if there was only a half an hour left in the day for him, then it wouldn’t count, it would go on his permanent record, and his living conditions would worsen as certain rights were stripped from him.

  The right to a full eight hours of sleep, for instance. The right to have half a day off every week. The right to a radio in living quarters and access to the Internet were especially big, though very few paranormals were allowed that.

  Markus didn’t want the paranormals in his care knowing what was going on in the outside world, or contacting people they shouldn’t be.

  Soren removed the shackle, and with renewed bravery, the recruits went after the gargoyle, most failing to shackle him. Still, two more men got him.

  “Three out of over twenty of you. That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire damned life!” Soren snapped, making everyone, Jessica included, stand even straighter at attention under the harsh words.

  Jessica wanted to smile. She absolutely loved the idea of a paranormal calling out recruits for being so completely and utterly terrible at even a practice version of what their jobs would be. The irony was wonderful.

  Soren pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the entire thing was giving him a headache. “Jessica Frost, you’re the last one up. Please, do not be as much of a disappointment. I really can’t handle that today.”

  Jessica stepped forward. None of the other recruits said anything, but they didn’t need to. She could hear the way some of them snickered, could just imagine inside her mind the way others would nudge each other in a silent gesture of yeah fucking right.

  Not too many women made it as hunters. Those who did were usually ex-firefighters or police offers, women who’d already gone through insane physical training and could not only handle being thrown around, but could get back up and launch a couple of punches themselves.

  Jessica wasn’t exactly dainty, but she was smaller than each of the three men who’d bested the gargoyle, and a good portion of the ones who hadn’t been able to.

  Still, she walked tall, already knowing exactly what to do, having brought in a couple of gargoyles herself a time or two.

  She smiled at the man, who let his stone skin form over his body, his face changing into something more monstrous. Then she smiled at Soren, right before he blew his whistle.

  It was over in less than six seconds.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jessica held onto her shackles and ran at the gargoyle, letting out a war cry that vibrated the inside of her throat. As if that was the signal he needed to run back at her, he roared and did the same thing.

  They were just upon each other, nearly touching, when Jessica fell down and slid between the paranormal’s legs.

  Performing a move like that was never as easy as the movies made it out to be, so she did get caught up in his legs. The gargoyle tripped over her body. The weight of his stone flesh should’ve hurt a whole lot, broken a few bones and left her with some serious cuts, at best. At worst, it could have killed her.

  Thanks to her quickly clipping the shackle around the gargoyle’s ankle, however, nothing but a nearly naked, normal man landed on top of her.

  He was still pretty damned heavy; she had to admit to that much when she pushed him off her.

  The paranormal looked down at his ankle then over at Jessica, and he smiled. “Not everyone thinks of that,” he said. “Most of ‘em just try to go for the wrists.”

  Soren clapped his hands a couple of times. It could’ve either been to grab the attention of the recruits or to applaud her, but either way, everyone turned their eyes to him. He stared at Jessica with clear favoritism. “Very good. Thank God, too. I hope you were all paying attention to that.”

  Jessica tried not to let the little smile on Soren’s face warm her belly too much. Not that she cared or anything. When she looked at the others, instead of being classically pissed off, these guys nodded to each other, some grinned, and there were a few catcalls of appreciation.

  In pure villainous fashio
n, however, the asshole recruit had his arms crossed, staring at Jessica like she’d just pissed in his cereal bowl.

  Jessica was going to have to keep an eye on him.

  *****

  Another day passed by. In the morning, Jessica did some more socializing with the other paranormals—who thought she was a regular prisoner—and some even looked up to her. They wanted to sit and talk with her, even though she wasn’t in the mood to speak with any of them.

  No one asked where she went after breakfast. Likely, they all assumed she was being studied, which she was. Just not in the same way they were.

  After breakfast, when the paranormals were rounded up, her training began again for the day with the recruits.

  Hours of rope climbing, more wrestling with paranormals—most were able to take down the gargoyle after watching Jessica’s trick—and basic hand-to-hand combat, which she excelled at.

  All the while, Soren watched her. Jessica tried not to look back at him, to not give anything away just in case a glance would be too much.

  Then she was suddenly called away from the group.

  Charles walked into the training center and went to Soren, whispering something into his ear. Soren’s lips thinned—Jessica noticed that much as she ran around the gym with the other recruits.

  Was it finally happening? Had Markus seen enough and wanted to bring her upstairs?

  Soren called out orders for everyone to keep on with what they were doing, but he didn’t say whether or not he would return.

  Which was stupid. He had to come back. Where else would he go?

  Jessica shook away the worry from her mind. Of course he was coming back. Soren likely just took it as a given that they would know, because of course.

  Which didn’t stop her from breathing in a great, big sigh an hour later when she and the other recruits were on their water break, and Soren walked in through the double doors.

  His face was grim, eyes hard and set as he observed every single one of the recruits. He didn’t say much of anything to Charles, and he barely looked at Jessica before he blew his whistle and commanded everyone to get back to what they were doing.

  After several more days of that, and no more private training from Soren, no rescue attempt, and no news on The Proxy Project, Jessica was starting to get a little pissed off.

  What the fuck was taking so long?

  “Frost? You’re wanted upstairs.”

  Jessica jumped at the sound of her name. Likely because she’d been sitting in her quarters, probably nicer than the ones the other paranormals got, when Charles’ voice called to her.

  She hadn’t heard him knock on the door, but she didn’t have that right to privacy, and she sure as hell didn’t have the right to keep a lock on her door.

  Still, she got to her feet. The look on Charles’ face was unlike any she’d ever seen before. He stared at her like he was afraid he was going to wound her.

  “What happened?”

  “Mr. Layton would like to see you upstairs,” he said. His voice was soft, as though he was trying to lessen a blow, which only made her anxiety launch to the fucking moon and stars.

  She went with him, followed him through the halls. She passed by some other recruits who smiled, some even waved at her as she went by, but she could barely summon the ability to smile back at them. Her mind was a cesspool of worried thoughts that churned and bubbled, and like any sticky thing, it wasn’t easy to get rid off.

  What in the hell could he possibly want that made Charles look like that?

  She thought about it during the elevator ride up. It was too short and way too long at the same time, only because it didn’t give her enough time to think of all the things Markus might want from her, and her responses to every thing he could possibly say.

  She mentally argued with the man again and again over a number of points, even up until Charles knocked on the heavy double doors leading into Markus’s office.

  When they opened, she was shocked to see Soren inside.

  Markus smiled at her, a smile she didn’t welcome. “Jessica, please, have a seat.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It more than bothered her that Markus called her by her first name, as if they were on friendly terms with each other, yet she was stuck calling him Mr. Layton, or Mr. President.

  “I should keep standing,” she said. “I just came from some physical training with the other recruits, and I’ll have to go back to finish. Sitting will only relax my body and make me feel tired.”

  Markus shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I’m glad you were able to make it up.”

  Again, pretending as though she’d had the choice to decline was incredibly annoying.

  “May I ask what this is about?”

  “You may,” Markus replied, sitting in his black leather chair and pulling a thick cigar from a wooden box. He did that thing some men did where they casually sniffed it, as though he was some sort of cigar connoisseur, clipped off one of the ends, lit it, and puffed on it.

  A heavy cloud of smoke gathered around his face. His smile when he looked at her wasn’t exactly the cartoon villain type of creepy, but the vibe she got from it was enough. He thought he had something on her.

  Her immediate thoughts went to Soren, and she feared for him, for herself, and everything Markus would do to them if he ever realized Soren was trying to help her get out of here in any small way.

  When he didn’t offer her anything else, Jessica had to clench her teeth and bite back something nasty.

  “Why did you call for me?” Jessica asked.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” Markus said then tapped some icons on his glass desk. There was a nearly silent whirring noise as one of the tiles in the floor, just before the rug, opened in front of her. A cylinder popped out of it, and the pointed top started to glow as the projector worked, flashing a flat image right into the thin air.

  Rich people.

  She wasn’t so much in the mood for making fun of anyone, however, when she realized what she was looking at.

  A man was standing there, walking around a nearly barren room, one that was identical to the cell Jessica had been kept in, which gave her an idea of where the man was.

  At first, she wasn’t aware of just who she was looking at, though pity for anyone to be locked up in one of those god-awful cells was alive inside of her. She hated that for anyone.

  It wasn’t just anyone, though. When the man turned and paced the other side of the cell, allowing the camera to see his bruised and swollen face, she recognized who it was. Ethan. Her brother.

  Rage, a live, wild monster, rose inside her and took complete control as she stormed forward. “You son of a bitch!”

  Guns were immediately pointed at her face, halting her. The stormtrooper guards. Fuck. She hadn’t even noticed they were in the room, hiding in the back corners; she’d been that focused on Markus.

  Jessica looked to Charles, and though she tried not to look at Soren, she did that, too. She searched their eyes for any sign that what she was seeing was real, not some hologram. “What is this? Is he really here?”

  Their faces gave no indication one way or another. There was only pity.

  Markus started talking. “We found him on the outskirts of the city. A couple of hunters came across a lone man, hiding in the southwest woods, acting suspicious, so they approached him. He ran but they caught him, scanned him, realized who he was and brought him in.”

  Jessica’s gut churned harder than a hurricane. She looked back at the vid feed. Ethan seemed calm enough on the outside, which was a normal trait for him, though his fists were clenched as he paced around that small room like an agitated cat. His face didn’t show any emotion; it was his body language that gave it all away.

  Not that she needed body language to know how he must feel. He had two swollen black eyes. The color on the vid screen in front of her wasn’t the most amazing thing ever, even though a multimillionaire had paid for it. The technology of creating a screen on
thin air was still too new.

  That didn’t matter, though. His busted lip was clear, as were the marks and scratches that littered his arms. His clothes looked old and dirty, and there were rips and tears in them. She wondered what sort of paranormal he’d been made to fight.

  “I can assure you that your brother is in this building. We’ve been trying to determine what his ability is, but have yet to find anything. He hasn’t been very forthcoming.”

  “I figured that out for myself,” Jessica said, not in the mood to even pretend she respected this man. “Ethan is not a paranormal.”

  “He is related to one, and he did run away from home with one,” Markus said, as if that was his checkmate answer. “You understand our need to make sure for ourselves.”

  Jessica turned her eyes back to the screen. She didn’t see a point in not looking. Markus already knew her brother was a weakness of hers, that she cared about him, didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Regardless of whether or not he believed Ethan was a paranormal, Markus could keep on with the tests he was performing on him and get away with it.

  Normal people were accused of being paranormal all the time. They were brought in, they were watched, and even when they were let go, there was still surveillance on them.

  The people who were deemed normal, who were able to walk out of Head Office, spoke a lot about their treatment, their lack of rights, privacy, dignity, as they were studied.

  Those complaints fell on deaf ears, or uncaring ears, for the most part. Markus had no reason to treat Ethan any better.

  “I promise you,” Jessica said, watching the stormtroopers out of the corner of her eye. “Ethan is not a paranormal. I swear, he’s got no powers, nothing to attack anyone with, and he’s not going to stir up trouble in the city.”

  “There are reports that the day he went missing, power went out in several city blocks. How do I know for sure he had nothing to do with it? How would the people be expected to know for sure?”