As Cold As Ice

by Mandy Rosko

  She wondered how many strings he’d had to pull, how many people he’d had to ask and beg in order to get her even this.

  Not for the first time, she felt like a total jerk for threatening him. She’d liked Soren, even back when they barely saw each other coming and going through the building. He’d always seemed like a nice enough guy without being a total pushover, and she never heard him gossiping about his latest lay. Not like some of the other guys did.

  And they did it loudly enough that Jessica, along with every other female employee, heard it from down the halls. Like it was their mating call or something.

  Standing under the pathetically small shower head, she sighed as a hot spray that wasn’t even that powerful cascaded down her hair and back. Knowing she had this only because of him, well, it made her wish she’d handled things a little better when she saw him for the first time in her cell.

  She’d kissed him, rough and hard, probably not the type of thing he was used to, and then threatened to put him in a cell beside hers if he didn’t help her.

  Looking back, and considering he’d clicked on that scrambler pen of his, she probably hadn’t needed to do that. Why else would he turn off the audio in the room if it wasn’t to have a conversation that he didn’t want anyone else to hear? He might’ve even helped her if she hadn’t threatened him.

  Her picture probably wasn’t his screensaver anymore.

  When she got out of the tiny shower, feeling better than she had in weeks—closer to human, at least—she took care of her teeth and tried her best to style her hair without any products. She didn’t have any makeup in there, but there was a tiny bottle of skin cream, and she slathered her face and hands with it. She couldn’t shave her legs, but she didn’t think she’d be wearing a skirt when she went to see Layton.

  He didn’t have a reputation of having sex with his employees, or the paranormals his company studied, but it never hurt to look good for a man who needed a whole lot of impressing. Statistics were what they were, and if she stood tall with her shoulders back, looked confident and well put-together, then there was a better-than-even chance Layton would believe those things about her regardless of the shackles that were on her wrists.

  Her clothes were the same ones she’d been brought in with, and thankfully, they’d been washed. Recently. She could smell the fabric softener on her jeans, socks, bra and underwear and blouse.

  Soren’s doing again? Maybe it was also his doing that her push-up bra hadn’t been replaced with something a little more on the casual side. The female inmates certainly didn’t get bras that had underwire in them.

  Jessica got dressed, tried not to think about Soren as she did so, and ran her fingers through her dark hair one more time, giving it the look of ‘I don’t care and I’m sexy for it’. Or was it ‘rolled out of bed after a good, long lay’?

  Either way, despite the lack of makeup, when Jessica opened the unlocked door of her room and Soren got one look at her, his eyes widened.

  She was stupidly pleased with that. If he was still attracted to her, then it meant he couldn’t hate her enough to stop helping her, right?

  She immediately felt guilty for the thought. To disguise it, just in case Soren could read her mind or something, she smiled and lifted her hands, as if presenting a new outfit to a friend. “What do you think?”

  God, she hated herself right then.

  Soren turned away from her, but he couldn’t stop the way his cheeks darkened. “You look good.”

  Jessica lowered her arms. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

  Soren managed to smile at her. “You look very good. I think you’re ready to see Mr. Layton.”

  Jessica suddenly didn’t care what Layton thought of her. “Wish I had some better shoes, though,” she said, looking down at her feet.

  “What’s wrong with your shoes? Do they have holes in them?” Soren asked, like he would rush to get her another pair if they did.

  “No, but they don’t have much of a heel, and they won’t click when I walk.”

  “You want your shoes to make noise when you walk?” Soren asked, and Jessica swore she’d never seen a man so clueless in her entire life. “Why do all girls do that?”

  “The girls in the office have clicky shoes?”

  Soren rolled his eyes and looked up to the ceiling, as if he would find all of life’s answers there. “I swear, they’re like cats who’ve purposely put bells on themselves. I can hear them all coming from down the hall.”

  Jessica laughed at his description, kind of stunned he didn’t like it. Most guys did, even if they didn’t realize it themselves.

  Her boots went up slightly past her ankles, and they still accented the rest of her calves nicely, but the heels were thick, made of good, sturdy rubber probably about an inch high, giving her some small amount of extra height. Not a sexy amount, though.

  “These are good work boots for me, but they don’t really impress. A lot of guys like a woman in heels that are higher. They show off the woman’s legs better. I think the clicking sound turned into a warning signal for their libidos to get going.”

  Soren shook his head, and his smile resembled more of a crooked smirk. “Like a dog that knows it’s about to get a treat whenever it hears a bell ring. They’ve been trained to drool on command.”

  Jessica laughed. “Something like that.”

  Soren didn’t say anything. His neck looked tight, and Jessica couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. That made her nervous in a strange way, so she kept talking.

  “I guess this is better anyway. Layton didn’t get to be a billionaire because he wasn’t aware of the little things people tried to pull over on him. If anything, these will make me look ready to work a field instead of around an office.”

  Soren nodded, and the tightness in his throat melted away.

  Then Jessica thought she got it.

  Was he…? No way, was he really feeling jealous that Jessica had wanted to wear heels for the owner of the company?

  Seriously?

  She shouldn’t be pleased by that. Christ, she didn’t even know if that’s what had him so tense.

  “Let’s go,” Soren said, waiting for her to step beside him before he started to move.

  There weren’t any guards following them, but considering guards were stationed all over the halls at regular intervals, Jessica couldn’t do anything to escape anyway.

  She had to put her trust in Soren. Trust that he knew what he was doing, and that his plan would work out in the long run. She was going to have to trust him. And not look at his ass while thinking about how nice it was as they walked the halls.

  Chapter Five

  Jessica rode the elevator up to the top floor with Soren. It wasn't a tall building by any means. They weren't exactly headquartered in the middle of the city, but even all the way out there, where the factories pumped clouds of black smoke so thick into the air she could probably climb them with her bare hands, a ten-story glass tower on top of what looked like a normal brick building was fairly impressive.

  For whatever reason, Markus J. Layton didn't go into the city with the rest of the CEO's, millionaires and billionaires. He stayed there, in the tower, coming and going only for work. Occasionally, he made an appearance at some charity event that required ball gowns, ten thousand dollar suits, and thousand dollar plates of food with portions so small it was practically legal theft to charge prices like that.

  But when the proceeds went to charity, for victims who'd been wronged by paranormals, or to the pockets of politicians, then it was probably all more than worth it for a man like Mark Layton.

  Besides, for a billionaire, tossing out a couple thousand dollars here and there was probably like when Jessica paid for her coffee and takeout with the change that had accumulated at the bottom of her purse. She'd just wanted to get rid of it.

  Soren barely spoke a word to her. He seemed more nervous than she was. His body was tense, and when she glanced down, his fists were cl
enched.

  Made sense, she supposed. They were about to stand in front of the man who could snap his fingers and legally have Soren euthanized if he found out what Soren was.

  The reminder of Jessica's threat came back to her, and she wanted so badly to tell him she wasn't going to turn him in.

  The medications she’d seen him take would require it to be something no regular fire-starter or werewolf could keep up with.

  It had been a mistake to threaten him before. She didn't know what his story was, and why he worked there, but hell, Jessica had a story of her own. She'd had good reason to work for the enemy.

  At least, she'd thought she had.

  It was only logical to assume the same must be true for Soren. Hell, she’d even kind of liked him. He was the only guy in a white coat in this building she’d ever been able to have a conversation with…

  She didn't dare say anything. The only time in her life she'd ever felt this bad was when she'd done something to upset Ethan, and he was her only family.

  They were standing right next to each other, the top floor fast approaching.

  Jessica moved her arm. She let it drift slowly toward him, and then she angled her hand.

  Her fingers brushed his palm. She wasn't sure what her goal was, aside from comforting him, because it certainly wasn't to hold his hand.

  Regardless, Soren yanked his hand away and stared at her with wide blue eyes, parted lips, and a slight frown pulling at his brow.

  Jessica's face heated. If her power had been fire, like Cindy, she might've lit the both of them ablaze by accident.

  Fuck, what had she been doing?

  Soren cleared his throat. Of course, neither of them said anything about it, and when the elevator stopped and dinged and the doors slid open, Soren grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward. His grip was a little harder than she thought it needed to be, but Jessica was also a big girl, and she didn't complain about a little pain.

  "When you see him, don't approach him. You can look him in the eyes, but do not challenge him. He'll want to hear you tell him your reasons for working for him all these years, so if you really want in the program, I suggest you be honest and tell him exactly how much you hate paranormals."

  That wouldn't have been honest at all. Jessica looked around and realized that, unlike downstairs, there was only one guard up there. He was standing at the door, far enough away that, even if he'd been paying attention, he would've had to strain to hear what was being said. Especially beneath that white joke of a Star Wars-like helmet.

  Which meant there were bugs around these halls that were listening in on them.

  Surprise, surprise.

  Jessica looked Soren in the eyes. She kept her gaze hard, and though she wasn't an actor, if anyone was watching her, studying her face and critiquing how sincere she looked, she was fairly sure she would pass that test.

  "I'll tell him everything I know."

  She'd tell Mark Layton only what he needed to hear.

  Soren nodded, and they both started walking forward again. Soren tipped his chin to the guy standing at the double doors as he opened one of them and let Jessica enter first. He didn't need to flash an ID badge or anything.

  He must come up here a lot.

  Jessica wasn't at all surprised when Charles was in the room. He wasn't standing behind a desk or anything. He was still wearing his white lab coat, had one of the million interchangeable clipboards in his hand, and he smiled pleasantly at Jessica, a little sparkle in his eyes, when they entered.

  He wasn't secretly Mark Layton, though, disguising himself as a somewhat creepy scientist just to get away from the public eye. That would've been too damned much for Jessica to process.

  No, the real man had a thick head of jet-black hair that was slicked back with so much gel it actually glistened in the lamplight above his head. He wore a suit that fit his body so well it had to have been handmade by an expensive Italian designer. His nose was a little on the crooked side, but that did nothing to deter his good looks. Jessica hated this man, but even she couldn't deny the confidence that floated around him.

  Weirdly enough, the room also had the distinct scent of pine needles. That had to be an air freshener, though, because there was no way a strong scent like that could be coming from him.

  Mark Layton looked kind of like a younger Alan Rickman, or Severus Snape, who was made even more handsome by the fact that he smiled confidently, styled his hair, and didn't stink of potions and chemicals.

  I need to stop with the Harry Potter references.

  She'd seen him before from time to time. On the news, usually. It was different in person, though. He wasn't speaking to them, didn't announce himself, even though he was clearly right there. He just smiled, kept his hands behind his back, and observed Charles, Soren, and Jessica. His eyes were on Jessica for the most part, and even though he wasn't smiling, it kind of looked like he was. At her.

  She turned her face away from him, opting to pay attention to what Soren and Charles were saying to each other.

  They were whispering heatedly. Work involving the company. Charles wanted blood samples for something, and he seemed angry that they were late. He also didn't seem to appreciate the way Soren mouthed off to him.

  "They wouldn't be late if you'd stop honoring me with all your work."

  Charles's neck immediately started bulging with red and blue veins. Then he turned his head and saw Jessica looking at the both of them.

  Soren noticed it, too, and they stopped talking and straightened up. Charles cleared his throat and smoothed his collar. He smiled at Jessica brightly, as if they were both still sort of coworkers, and he approached Layton's desk.

  "Sir? This is Jessica Frost, the subject we told you about."

  ‘Subject’ wasn't a very good way for Charles to endear himself to her, especially if he was trying to trick her into thinking she was still on his team.

  Whatever. She had no choice but to let it slide, so she stood straight and put on her confident face when Layton turned his attention to her.

  This was going to be no different than a job interview. It kind of was a job interview, and as she told herself that, it became a little easier to believe it, to make herself stop sweating and calm her heart.

  Layton smiled at her. A businessman’s smile. Not too bright, but definitely there and meant to show off that he didn't have a Grinch face.

  Layton held out a hand to her, his palm flat as he pointed to one of the small leather chairs in front of his massive glass desk.

  "Yes, yes. Please, sit down. I've heard a lot about you."

  Jessica stepped forward. She was glad her boots had been cleaned since she'd brought them in. Somehow, getting mud all over the thick, expensive rug beneath his desk and those chairs seemed like it wouldn't win her any brownie points.

  She took her seat, kept her spine straight, and crossed her leg over her knee, knowing it would accent her figure. Why wasn't Soren coming to sit down? There was only one other chair and Charles took it, still grinning brightly, as if he was on the verge of a big promotion.

  Layton did not sit down. He picked up a single sheet of paper, probably something that had a little bit of Jessica's information on it.

  "You've been the talk of the building ever since you were called in. You froze a collector, and two office clerks in the home of another collector?"

  No point in lying about it. That was how they'd found out about her, after all.

  Jessica nodded. "Yes, I felt I had to in the moment. Are they all right?"

  If Layton knew their names, then it was only because he'd had to learn them to make a public statement to the press about the incident.

  He didn't tell Jessica their names, though. "All three are well, though one of the clerks is on stress leave. The man you brought down, the collector, was a little more eager to get back to work."

  Jessica nodded. "That makes sense, given his line of work protects the people."

  Layton's eyes
darted up, and though he'd tried to hide it, she'd already seen the shocked calculation.

  Maybe he hadn't expected her to say something like that. Wasn't that why she was there?

  Layton put down the piece of paper and locked eyes with her. His eyes were blue, but not the same deep and rich blue Soren had. His were cold, so cold and so pale that it even made Jessica shiver, and considering what her powers were, that was a feat in itself.

  "If you believe that, then why did you attack them?"

  Jessica had thought about what she would say long before Soren had come up with this idea. She'd always known that the day would come when she'd get caught, and that her only chance for not being locked up and having needles stuck into her for the rest of her life would lie in her history of working for Head Office.

  "I did what I did because I was in love with Jack Marilla. He was an ex-boyfriend, and I thought he needed help."

  Again, Layton’s brows lifted. He was getting a little more honesty than he thought he would. Hopefully, that was a good thing.

  "I see. I was unaware there are tender feelings between the two of you."

  "Were," I corrected. "He and I had been done for about a month before I was brought in. If you need records to prove it, I can provide them."

  "That would be helpful, and photographs would also be beneficial toward your defense, though we did a scan of your home. There were photos of him in there with you, but nothing that seemed of the romantic sort."

  "We were careful," Jessica said. "We didn't want to risk our employment with fraternization, but we were still a couple. We wrote each other emails through addresses you do not have on file, for either of us."

  Layton's eyes sparkled, as if he'd been hoping to hear something like that.

  Of course he was. He wanted to know anything Jessica might've been holding back that would help him find Jack and her brother.

  "I see. I trust there will be no harm in you giving me the address?"

  Jessica nodded, and she listed the digital addresses she and Jack had used back when they were sneaking around after hours.

  She repeated them when Layton grabbed a pen and a fresh sheet of paper. He didn't write them down, of course; instead, he pushed them forward, toward Charles, so he could do the honors.