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“Perhaps I didn’t fancy being torn limb from limb.”
“That’s it?”
The haemophile was gazing at him, the blue of his eyes rolling like seawater under moonlight. He was smiling. He was so beautiful that Jesse struggled to get breath into his lungs.
“Most systems have a way in,” he managed, “if you look hard enough.”
“Or are desperate enough?”
Jesse winced. “Trixy’s not a bad type. She just wants to do her thing.”
“And I would very much like you to doyourthing, Mr. Truelove…for me.”
Jesse blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to work for me.” He tapped his long, curved fingernail on the envelope. “This is just the start. I want you to use your skills to make Oswald House safe as possible.”
Jesse hesitated. “I’m not sure your pal Kingston would be keen on working with the likes of me.”
“I’m not asking you to work with him. I’m offering youhisjob.”
Jesse stared at him. “Come again?”
“You outsmarted his system. You are clearly better. I always have the best.”
Jesse unstuck his tongue with more beer. The alcohol was starting to tingle in his veins, making it easier to meet the impossible eyes while making it harder to resist their effect. “Let me get this straight… I broke into your place and now you want tohireme?”
“To make sure no one else does what you did…ever.”
Jesse clenched his fist in his lap. He stared at the envelope of cash. “Will you get Trixy off the hook?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Trixy walks,” Jesse said, “or it’s no deal.”
Magnusson sighed. “Your loyalty is admirable. I only hope you are able to offer me the same, with time.” He took a deep swallow of his wine. Jesse watched the muscles moving in his throat with electricity crackling over his skin. He met his eyes again, and this time Jesse couldn’t fight the heat that rose in his cheeks, but the haemophile just nodded. “Your friend goes free, as long as you make my systems secure enough to stop her or anyone like her getting anywhere near me again.”
Jesse looked at the envelope. “I may be broke, but I’m not some desperate loser who’ll do anything for money…just so you know.”
“Mr. Truelove.” Jesse raised his eyes. “I’m not trying to buy you…just your skills. Don’t you think it’s time they served you rather than causing you trouble?”
Jesse frowned. “What do you know about me, exactly?”
Magnusson’s eyes glinted. “Enough.”
Jesse bit the inside of his mouth. He lifted the envelope, felt the weight of it. He thought about his holed jeans, his crappy flat, the out-of-date milk in his fridge—the patches and plug-ins he could get for his PCs if this really was just the beginning. But he could still feel the otherworldly presence of the haemophile on the other side of the table, like he was sitting near a bonfire. “I don’t know.”
A pause. Jesse didn’t dare look up. Finally, the baron broke the silence. “I understand. This must be a lot to think about. So, how about this?” The haemophile produced a business card and slid it across the table. “Come by tomorrow. The front door, this time.” His smile twitched. “Meet the team. But if you decide yes, I would like you to move in and start work immediately.”
“Wait… Move in?”
“It’s a live-in position,” Magnusson said frankly. “I need my security on hand twenty-four-seven.”
Jesse stared at the business card to try to hide the fact that he was suddenly very aware of how small the table was, of how close that large, powerful body was to his own.
“Come by tomorrow? To Oswald House?”
“Come to the house. Then we’ll see where we can go from there.” The haemophile stood, buttoning his jacket with one hand while pushing the business card closer to Jesse with the other. He leaned in close to Jesse’s face, and Jesse could smell the wine on his breath and a cool, fresh scent that must have been him.
