Jenny's smile lit up her face. Her green eyes sparkled. "I was just finishing work for the day and wanted to ask if you’d like to join me for lunch. I was building up the nerve."
"I was just about to suggest the same thing," I said with a relaxed smile.
She laughed. "Okay, well a date it is. In the past six months my dating experience has been limited to men who could barely read their own name. You were sitting there reading alone and looking... well, looking like someone I’d like to meet."
One of the guards began to walk towards us. I motioned for Jenny to lead the way. "Shall we, then?" I said. The guard lost interest in me and wandered back over to his colleagues.
I'd wanted to get inside and look around a little, but that was impossible. Besides, I'd already figured out exactly how I was going to get inside.
I looked at Jenny as we walked together, and wondered if I was being set up. And if so, why? No one knew about me, or my plan. So what was her game? Whatever it was, I was happy to play along.
Hell, this might be fun.
*****
"I know this little Italian place," Jenny said as we walked together through the increasingly crowded financial Mecca. "It's a bit out of the way, so it shouldn't be full of people talking about nothing but work."
"Lead the way," I said.
We reached the restaurant shortly after. Like Jenny had said, it was nowhere near as busy as the rest of Canary Wharf. I opened the door for her and we both entered the warm restaurant. The smell of tomatoes and spices wafted out of the kitchen, making me hungry. A young woman seated us in a booth, and Jenny removed her jacket, showing the black blouse she was wearing. The waitress placed menus in front of us and, after taking our drink order, left us alone to look over what we wanted to eat.
"So, what do you do, Nate?" Jenny asked as she fidgeted with her napkin.
I'd been thinking about my answer to this since we'd left Mars Warfare. "I'm in-between contracts at the moment," I said.
"You're unemployed?" The slight oh crap, another one in her voice was easy to hear.
I shrugged. "Not exactly, no."
"So if you're not unemployed, what are you?"
It was time to spin my tale. "I was in the military, I left a year ago with enough money to allow me to spend some time doing things that I want to do. When I've had enough, I'll get a job. I've done some consultant work for Hollywood, and I've been told I have a job if I want it. But at the moment I'm happy just not having to get up every day at five am for a ten mile hike."
"That's a lot more interesting than, 'I'm in-between contracts'." She finished her coke and ordered another. "So what films have you worked on?"
"A few. There was one a couple of years ago with giant robots. It made buckets of money."
"I remember that film." Jenny looked sheepish. "I thought it was a bit..."
"Shit? Yeah it was a dreadful film, but I had fun making it."
Jenny laughed, putting her hand over her mouth. "I didn't want to offend you by saying what I thought of it."
"It's pretty hard to offend me. And, like I said, I enjoyed myself."
"When I was little I wanted to be an actress."
"What stopped you?"
"I was terrible at it, mostly," she said causing us both to laugh. "So I went to uni and now I'm a secretary for an overpaid scientist. Not exactly glamorous."
"You make it look pretty glamorous."
"Thank you," she said with a slight grin. "You have to dress well around here, no matter how much your wages may groan under the idea."
"I'm certain you'd look amazing no matter what you wore."
We chatted about her university days, where she studied history. We even got onto the topic of her family for a while. One brother and sister, both older, both more successful, both assholes. I always managed to deflect questions she asked me back onto her. I wanted her to feel comfortable. We continued to talk as we ate, I had spaghetti and meatballs and Jenny an Italian ham pizza.
As time passed, my original concern that I was being set up had begun to evaporate. If Mars Warfare did know about me, I wouldn't have thought they'd have set me up on a date. I'd have expected more guns, and some torture. Besides she gave far too much information about herself and her job. Even so, that left me with a startling opportunity to glean some information about Daniel Hayes. "What do they actually do in that place, anyway?"
"Research new tech for the most part. The top fifteen floors are totally off limits to anyone who isn't high on the corporate ladder. They even have their own lifts and stairwells, just in case us plebs get nosey."
"Wow, segregation in the work place, eh?"
"Tell me about it! There's also a basement lab, which is even more off limits."
"I know a guy who works there, Daniel Hayes." I appeared to ponder this for a moment. "At least I think he works there."
"Doctor Hayes, I know him. He's one of the nice ones. Always says hello. He's brought his daughter in a few times, Samantha's her name, good kid. You should have mentioned earlier, I'd have called up to him."
"I only just remembered to be honest, when you said about scientists."
Jenny drained her coke before speaking. "You should go and say hi. He's working really late tonight, won't be in till at least midday tomorrow."
I doubted that after I'd stolen his laptop he'd be in the mood for me to say anything to him.
We chatted for a few more hours, until the staff began making hints that we couldn't stay since offices were emptying for the day and it was starting to become busy. I paid for the meal and we left the restaurant, the sunset casting the sky in a brilliant orange and red. "You know it's only five," Jenny said.
"You fancy coming back to my hotel for a drink?"
"Just a drink though, I am a good girl after all.” She linked her arm through mine and we walked back to my hotel.
Chapter 9
We tumbled through my hotel door, lips pressed tightly against one another. Jenny pushed me up against the wall and began to undo my belt one handed, sliding the other one down my trousers and grabbing me. I hardened at her touch. If she was setting me up for something, then it was the best set up I'd ever known.
She moved her hand slowly up and down. I groaned. I didn't want her to stop, but I needed more. I broke the kiss and undid her blouse, kissing her neck and chest as I moved down her body. Once open, she dropped the blouse off her shoulders to the floor as I kissed her stomach. I ran one hand up her back, unhooking her dark red bra with two fingers and using my free hand to pull it away. I threw it behind me and ran my tongue back up her body. Her perfume only served to heighten my passion. I took one of her pierced nipples in my mouth, flicking the metal bar with my tongue. A gasp escaped Jenny's mouth and she moved both of her hands to the back of my head, holding me in place.
I dropped back to my knees and unfastened Jenny's trousers as I kissed her smooth stomach. I pulled her trousers down slightly, uncovering a dark and jagged scar on the top of her thigh. A knife wound. Jenny must have noticed my slight hesitation because she kicked off her heels and allowed her trousers to fall to the floor as she walked to the bed. She lay on the covers, wearing only a pair of French lace underwear.
I immediately forgot all about the scar and allowed my jeans to fall to the floor, along with my shirt soon after.
Jenny removed her underwear revealing a thin strip of dark hair. A smile on her face remained as she threw the tiny panties at me. I tossed them to the floor along with my black shorts.
I climbed on the bed beside her, lowering my head to her thighs, where more perfume enticed me and, after teasing a kiss between her legs, I kissed my way up her body.
"That was cruel," she said before our mouths touched once more.
I pulled away and ran my hand up the inside of her leg, pushing one finger up inside her. Jenny arched her back for a moment and let out a low moan. "Still being cruel?" I asked and began to move my finger slowly.
"No, that's good." Jenny grabbed my head
and lowered my mouth to her own. There was hunger and fire in her kiss. She reached down with her hand and began stroking me once again as I sped up my finger's movements.
"I want something else," Jenny said her voice throaty. She pushed me onto my back and climbed on me, lowering down onto my erection with another gasp. She rocked back and forth slowly. A moan escaped my own lips.
"Oh, Nate," she said and began rubbing herself as her movement quickened.
I grasped Jenny's hips, moving myself to keep in time with her thrusts. Jenny arched back as her rubbing became more ferocious until she screamed my name.
*****
Jenny screamed my name twice more that night. The last time seemed to last forever, and ended with us crashing onto the bed, spent and exhausted. I woke to find daylight streaming through the windows, bathing our naked bodies in soft light.
"Good morning," Jenny said as she swung her legs out of the bed and stood, treating me to the perfect view of a perfect ass.
"Yes, it is," I said with a smile.
Jenny turned, giving me her profile and reminding me of the nasty scar on her thigh. "Got it a few years ago," she said after following my glance. "In a club up north, some psycho bitch did it with a broken bottle."
"What happened?" I asked as Jenny walked into the bathroom.
"She accused me of fucking her boyfriend. I told her where to stick it. So she glassed me. I think she's probably still in jail. Hopefully she got attacked by some gang as she ate lunch."
Jenny had been in the shower for a few minutes when my phone rang. Holly's name appeared on the touch screen.
"Hi, Holly," I said. "I was going to call you later."
"Just thought I'd see how things are going. I'll be going out later to have lunch with my mum."
"Say hi for me." Holly's mum, Lyn, instilled fear in people just as easily as her husband. She was always hospitable and pleasant, but had no qualms about what her family did. I'd seen her stare down hardened killers without breaking a sweat. Her husband might have been the boss in the operation, but he had one hell of a second in command.
"Shower's all yours," Jenny said as she re-appeared in the bathroom doorway, wearing her clothes from the previous day. I placed my hand over the phone trying to stop Jenny's words from reaching Holly's ears.
"I'd love to stay but I've gotta go," Jenny continued. She walked over to me and kissed me gently. "I had a great night but, be honest, if we exchanged numbers would you ever call? So let's just leave it at that. If we ever meet again, we'll see how it goes."
We kissed again, and then I watched her leave the hotel room.
"Nate, Nate?" Holly's questioning voice took me from the night's memories. "Is that a woman in the room with you?"
"Yeah, I had a sort of date last night."
"And you haven't left her in bed and made your escape? I'm impressed." Her tone said that she was trying to keep anger out of her voice, but I heard it all the same.
"This is my hotel room."
"Oh, so she gets to walk out on you? That should be novel for you."
"Holly, we met yesterday, had a date. Yes, she spent the night. That's all there was to it."
"You don't owe me any sort of explanation. Why should I care whom you fuck? Like I said before, when you're not around I don't sit at home and pine for you. I've had sex with someone since you, Mr. High And Mighty."
"I never assumed –"
"Anyway, I've got to go. I've got a date tonight. Looking forward to it."
"That's gre-"
"Good luck with the job." With that the phone went dead and I was left in silence. I'd been fooling myself for a long time that Holly and I were not getting serious. She went out on dates when I wasn't there, and I saw other people too. I assumed it was perfectly fine for both of us. From her reaction, I knew I'd been wrong. And I felt guilty for upsetting her. But there was another thought in my head – why had Jenny lied about how she got her scar?
Chapter 10
Job days always moved at light speed. After Holly's barely hidden anger, and my mulling over why I'd been lied to, the day was no different. I poured over the Mars Warfare building blueprints and cemented the strategy for my entrance. And more importantly, my exit.
One of the buildings next to Mars Warfare was twenty stories high and lacked the security of its big brother. There was a second building on the opposite side, which you could actually use to look into the office of my target, but it was also over six hundred feet away. I’ve been considered many things. Bat shit crazy isn't one of them. Which is why, after I'd gotten dressed in dark combats, boots and hoodie, I found myself on the smaller building's roof at just after ten pm. I stood at the edge and looked down onto the streets below.
Five floors beneath me, thirty feet away, and across a gaping twenty stories deep chasm, lay my entrance into the Mars Warfare building. It was a small balcony with a door. They'd been put in every ten floors, presumably as some sort of smoking area.
There's no way a human could jump it. Not without leaving a very big red stain on the concrete pathway far below. Even a sorcerer like me had just one chance at this. Get it wrong, and I'd be that big red stain.
Once my rucksack was secured properly, I backed up to the opposite side of the roof and positioned myself against a large air conditioning unit. I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do and breathed out slowly as white glyphs covered my hands. I shoved myself off with everything I had, sprinting the fifty feet across the flat roof. Air magic can make my body lighter than it is, giving me amazing agility and speed.
I planted my foot just below the roof edge and pushed off. My heart raced like a jackhammer as I flew across the alley far below.
I hit the balcony with a resounding thud and rolled across the floor to lessen the impact as the smell of stale cigarette smoke hit my nose. I came to a stop against the cool glass door and stared up at the roof I'd just left. If I hadn't been capable of using air magic I'd never have made the jump. Hell I wouldn't have even attempted it.
My glyphs died down and I forced myself to calm. When I could no longer feel my heart trying to burst out of my chest, I set about letting myself into the building. There was no need to conceal that I'd been here—Daniel Hayes was going to realise that someone had stolen his laptop. Unless he was an idiot. But I doubted that would be the case. I ran my gloveless finger up the side of the glass door, melting the lock. A slight push later, and the entrance opened. I stepped inside, acutely aware of any sounds that might indicate someone nearby.
When I was certain the coast was clear, I continued through the building to the lifts. Getting into one of them was out of the question. There were enough cleaners and security staff inside the building to notice if one started to move when it wasn't meant to.
But that didn't mean the lifts were a totally no-go area.
The darkness inside the building was occasionally broken with wall lights, creating an eerie atmosphere. Shadows crisscrossed over one another, trying to claw back the darkness from the low level lights.
The lift doors were surrounded by ornate bronze work. I took a few seconds to study the artwork. It really was quite beautiful. Dozens of figures carved into the bronze, most in full ancient armour, stood in front of their boats, waiting for whatever war the artist was depicting.
I placed my hand close to the steel of the lift doors and noticed something in the carvings. On the opposite side of the waiting warriors was a huge walled city. Men stood on the ramparts, staring down at those before them. Suddenly I realised that it was a depiction of the battle of Troy, or at least the beginning of it.
Air rushed out of my hand, forcing the heavy lift doors apart and keeping them there as I peered into the darkness beyond. I closed my eyes briefly, aware that orange glyphs would be mixing with their white counterparts as I drew on the fire aspect of my magic. When I opened them I could see in the dark. The lift shaft was a mesh of orange and reds but I made out the lift itself a few floors below me, idly w
aiting for its next journey.
It’s probably a common thing to hate lift shafts, but when you're a thief sometimes they're your only means of getting from one place to the next undetected. They're drafty, dirty and full of things whose entire mission in life is to tear the skin from your body. It was why I spent a moment to take climbing gloves from my bag and put them on.
I pulled a balaclava down over my face. The blueprints showed no internal cameras but I didn't want to accidentally walk into a cleaner and have my face plastered all over the news in the morning.
A quick jump later and I found myself holding onto the thick lift cable. Once I'd wrapped my feet around the cable and made sure my grip was iron tight, I began my twenty-two-floor climb.
There was no way of telling how long it took, I wasn't about to wait for a second and take a look at my watch, but it felt like years. By the time I'd reached the top of the lift shaft my arms and shoulders ached and my hands felt on fire, cramped from how tightly I'd needed to grip. There was also another problem—the lift doors were closed. Jumping over to them would have left me with about an inch to grab hold of. An inch between life and death wasn’t big enough for me to take the risk.
I wrapped one arm around the cable and stretched out my free hand, palm facing the door. A jet of air exploded from it, ripping the glove to shreds before slamming into the door. I kept the gale focused on the crack between the doors, forcing them aside. Anyone outside them would easily hear the howl of the wind, but it was the quickest way.
Once the doors were apart, I moved around slightly so that my back faced the now open lift doors. I pulled my feet up, planted them on the cable and launched myself back, twisting in mid-flight with a slight blast of air and landing beyond the lift doors as they began to close. I hit the thinly carpeted floor hard, but rolled, the back pack taking the brunt of the blow.
I remained motionless for a moment and listened for any signs of approaching life. It was soon apparent that I was alone. The information I'd received from my employer stated that the cleaners didn't normally get to the thirties until after midnight, and it was only quarter past eleven. But it was better to be safe than sorry.