Page 10 of He Is Jensen: Part Two

“And keep the ICE.” His voice is gentle, non-threatening. “You don’t have to hide it or hold onto it with a death grip. I won’t take it from you. In fact, I want you to have a dose on your person at all times in case you start going into withdrawal.”

The protectiveness in his voice washes over me with a flutter of my stomach. I’ve forgotten windwalking. All I’m thinking about is him. “Thank you,” I murmur again, far too comforted by his presence. Being alone is frightening. I don’t want to be alone.

He moves away from me, picking up around the room, but I stay where I am. I’ve never been afraid of being on my own, never felt such a thing in my life. It scares me, makes me worry my judgement is impaired, that I’m trusting too easily. I haven’t even asked for evidence that those pictures don’t prove Jensen is a Zodius. I haven’t even asked where the safer place he’s taking me is located. He kissed me, and I melted. I trusted…”I need proof you’re not Zodius,” I blurt.

He stills in motion, the broken picture in his hand, then glances at me and sets it against the wall. And damn it, why am I staring at his pecs? I jerk my gaze upward to find myself captured in his steady one, his expression unchanged, unreadable.

Long, tense seconds pass before he says, “I wish you already knew better, but since that’s clearly not true, you’ll get your proof.” There’s a stab of hurt and disappointment in his voice I wish I could erase, but I can’t take away my demand. No matter how much his reaction has me wishing I could.

Chapter nine

Jensen

It’s thirty minutes after leaving her to shower, and I sit in the back of a surveillance van outside the motel on a portable stool. I showered and changed into black fatigue pants and a black T-shirt in the adjoining room I share with Layla. I spent that time telling myself to get a grip. Layla is turning me inside out, and I know it—probably impairing my judgement. Not probably—she is. Why does it bite me in the backside that she wants proof of who I am? Of course she wants proof. She’s smart. She’s been through hell and back. But it bites me alright, like a big ol’ grizzly bear chasing dinner.

“Explain exactly what happened in the warehouse,” Caleb instructs from where he sits beside me. Two flat-screen monitors hang on the wall of the van directly in front of us—one displaying the motel door, the other, a live feed of Doc Katie. Between her and Caleb, the two of them spit out questions about Layla like it’s a contest—who can ask the most questions the fastest.

“She panicked when the other scientist was murdered. She said glass started shattering, and the soldiers passed out. And now that I think about it, when the Zodius came to take her to the lab, her orange juice glass shattered. I just thought it was caused by some sonar signal from military testing Julian might be doing.”

“And you’re immune to passing out around her. Why?” Katie asks, shoving a long lock of blonde hair back into the clip at her nape. “I don’t like unknowns.”

“I watched her freak out around a couple of humans, and they were fine, which I’m guessing means I have just enough of a deficiency in the GTECH enhancements to make me desensitized to whatever she’s doing.”

Katie blinks at me. One second. Two. “I’m not sold on the idea, but it’s a good hypothesis.”

“Hmmm, okay,” Caleb says, his light brown eyes thoughtful. He sits up straight and runs his hands down his jean-clad legs. “If Layla’s emotions trigger these episodes she’s having, then my ability to probe and influence human emotions might allow me to help her control it.”

“Oh no,” Katie objects quickly. “It’s too dangerous, Caleb. So far we’ve seen GTECHs pass out from whatever mental compulsion she gives them. What if she has the ability to kill them as well? What if you’re the first? What if the others weren’t passed out at all? What if they were dead?”

“Jesus, Katie,” I say. “Enough with the what-ifs.”

“She’s right,” says a stern voice from the van door.

Creed is now standing in the entrance, his head all but touching the roof. I’m about to make a not so Jolly the Big Green Giant joke, when a cute, petite blonde perches on the step, leading inside. Addie is Creed’s mate, but she appears to be his polar opposite—light and understanding where Creed is dark and unsympathetic. She waves at us, and before we can respond, Creed is throwing flames. “It’s too dangerous,” he snaps, his attention on Caleb’s. “You can’t go near that woman. I don’t care what kind of story she’s offered in explanation for her ability to put GTECHs to sleep. I don’t trust her. For all we know she has the ability to somehow influence your mind, Caleb. Maybe that’s her goal. To get close to you, to convince you she needs to be inside your head—or you inside hers. Julian wants you to join him in a bad way. You know this.”

“Again with the paranoia,” I snap irritably. “I was with her. I saw how scared she was when we were inside Zodius Nation.”

“Good acting,” Creed suggests. “Do we even know she really has cancer? The medical records could be a cover. She was missing for months. She could have been with Julian.”

I want to punch Creed, and not because he’s wrong, because he’s voicing concerns I have as well, but don’t want to face. And yet, I fight for her. I defend her. “If Layla were working for Julian,” I argue, “he wouldn’t have tried to kill her last night.”

“Maybe it was a setup to make you think she could be trusted,” Creed counters. “He had to have seen how protective you are of her. You pretty much write it on a wall in fluorescent color. And amazingly, the Zodius knew exactly where she was at that club, despite the fact that she has no psychic imprint from sex with a GTECH.”

“It was an ICE club that had security cameras,” I bite out. “Of course, they found her.”

Creed’s expression hardens. “It was a setup if I ever saw one. A way to make us feel the need to bring her into our inner circle and protect her.” He shoves a bag of food at me. “I don’t know how I became your delivery man, but don’t get used to it.”

“Service with a smile,” I jibe because I enjoy irritating Creed, especially considering his opinion of Layla. “Or no tip.”

Creed ignores my comments as he does most jokes, eyeing Caleb. “You can’t go near that woman.”

“Layla,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “Her name is Layla.”

Creed narrows a suspicious gaze at me with a silent message in the depths. I can almost hear him thinking, Something you want to tell me? Like she’s your lifebond?

A muscle in my jaw clenches at the silent prod, uncertain what I think about my relationship with Layla at this point. The woman makes me insanely hot and out of my mind.

Caleb, still focused on Creed’s concerns, waves off his warning. “Layla Walters can’t control my mind. She can’t control her own. We need her in a lab, helping us find a way to deal with ICE. That means we have to help her, so she can help us.”