Everything she’d told him so far was both nothing and yet, something. NOPAIN at its best. She was right, though. “I’ll stick to Helen,” he assured her, then leaned forward to wickedly add, “like yourman’s sticking to you. Seems like you’ve got to learn to trust your feelings, T. Go for it. Give in to him. Let yourself trust him.”
T shrugged. “You forget. He doesn’t trust me,” she said.
“Well, then, aren’t we both in the same hot water?”
“Helen will trust you eventually, darling. She’ll figure out you’re a softie inside,” T said smugly.
“And so will Alex trust you eventually, darling,” Jed drawled. “He’ll figure out you’re not totally heartless.”
T stared at him, then started to laugh. Her beeper went off.
“I bet I know who’s looking for you,” Jed mocked.
T smiled. “Goodnight, Jed. I actually like you when you’re tired. You’re less guarded.”
“Using NOPAIN on a tired man is very amateurish, T.” He was tired, but knew she was just baiting him too. Another Jed and T unspoken rule: Always leave with the last word, if possible. “Ooops, is that Alex down there staring into my micro-eye? I believe it is. How is a tired operative ever going to get his beauty sleep?”
T made a face and turned around, clicking the door shut behind her without another word. Jed noted she never answered her beeper or checked the video screen. He would have found that amusing if he hadn’t understood the urge to check on someone sleeping too damn far away at this moment.
He secured all the codes, set the alarm, stood up and stretched. Was she dreaming about him tonight? Or would he dream about her instead? He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Either way, it just wasn’t going to be the same without them dreaming together.
Chapter Sixteen
“
M
iss Roston, wake up!”
Helen grunted, trying to crawl back into the dark fog of sleep, but the shaking was persistent.
“Miss...Hell, Miss Montgomery said you wanted to be awakened early enough to go to a meeting. Would you rather sleep?”
Oh, yes, sleep. That was what she’d rather do.
“You can stop shaking her, Derek. She should just stay in bed. I can fill her in about the meeting later when everyone’s gone off.”
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of another familiar voice. Heath Cliffe was standing beside Derek, Dr. Kirkland’s assistant, his arms crossed in front of him. Amusement filled his eyes, as if he knew she would react to his statement.
“Good morning,” he greeted. “T sent me down here to make sure you get up. She told me you have some interesting questions to ask our Number Nine.”
Good old T. That was Heath’s main job—asking questions. He was The Interrogator, the one who could break the obstinate ones. T knew she would pique his interest if she brought up questioning Jed McNeil. After all, what interrogator would want to miss Jed McNeil avoiding questions? Besides that, Heath was the only one among the commandos interested in using the new serum. He would like to watch her as it entered her system. Drugs, questions, personality changes—these were subjects dear to Number Eight’s heart.
“Are you awake, or are you remote viewing?”
“Funny,” Helen managed to whisper, then groaned. “I feel like shit.”
When she’d first experienced downtime—the aftereffect of a long RV session—she had likened it to being drunk. It wasn’t unpleasant, because she mostly slept. The following days, her mind felt drained and her concentration was shot. She and the others in the program weren’t allowed to drive afterwards.
However, the prolonged session with Hades had packed a wallop. She felt like she’d been in an Iron Man contest. Last night, she’d done something someone her level shouldn’t have been able to—gone off using two universal agreements and popping up all over the ether.And she’d almost not come back.
“You’re staring into space again,” Heath said quietly. “What do you want to do, Hell? Get up? Sleep? Your choice. Jed would want you to rest, of course, after what you’ve been through last night, but he’s already up and about, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”
Hell’s eyes widened sardonically at the “bright-eyed and bushy-tailed” remark. “That’s the best you can do to get my competitive juices up?” Her voice sounded a little stronger. “Is he really up already? Ugh. Hey, Dr. K. Got my morning juice?”
Dr. Kirkland nodded, looking at her charts. “Everything was normal while you slept and everything looks good now. I’ll let you take half the dosage this time. We’ll see how your body adjusts to that.”
“No late night hot tubbing in your near future,” Heath said, a teasing reminder of their private encounter.
