eyes.
When she’d woken up, she’d instinctively understood what her inner voice had been telling her. She had mistaken her strange dream for what they called “lucid dreaming”, that state of consciousness that she often had when she was aware that she was sleeping and dreaming at the same time. Not only that, she had wrongly assumed that she’d invaded Hades’ dreams again.
Half-awake and still aroused, she’d allowed her mind to drift in search of those hands and lips, letting it wander off as she slowly surfaced. Then she’d experienced that odd dizzying sensation that she had had yesterday, catching a glimpse of dark hair and silvery eyes and this very room, before she was knocked sideways by the same blinding pain.
She knew—absolutely—bone deep, that Jed McNeil was Hades. It was too coincidental that twice now, when she’d managed to slip into remote-viewing mode while thinking of Hades, she’d seen him instead.
Fully conscious after the headache, she’d realized that it was not nighttime, which meant that she and Hades weren’t doing their usual brain synchronization exercise. She’d jerked out of bed and had barely taken the time to freshen up as her mind raged, denied, processed, denied, argued, and denied. She’d rushed here without even remembering how she’d gotten there, as if she just knew where to find him, and strode through the main office past a group of operatives.
It now occurred to her that no one had stopped her. Not that it would have mattered. She had been so angry she would have fought her way in just to see whether he was really here. Punching him felt so good, she was almost too giddy to do anything but sit here and savor it.
“Proposals?” Jed asked calmly. By now, a small cut had opened at the corner of his mouth.
She had to give it to him. He was one cool cat. He was looking at Sullivan as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Umm…how about a break?” Sullivan replied drolly, rubbing his chin.
Helen noted the amused gleam in his eyes, then cast her gaze at the others. Shahrukh was looking at his notes, a tiny smile on his strong lips. Flyboy was sniffing at a pencil as if it was some fine cigar.
She relaxed—just a little. She didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between herself and these men with whom she’d barely begun working. There were seven of them to her one, not counting T., and she had to figure out what the dynamics were here and learn how to work it to her advantage. Her own agency, GEM, was made up of mainly women and their modus operandi couldn’t be more different. She had the feeling that working closely with these men was going to be eye-opening, to say the least.
“Do you need one?” Jed asked.
“Nope. But I thought you might need it to take care of that swelling before it gets too puffy. That could be problematic for the next assignment.”
Helen frowned. Ooops. She hoped she hadn’t caused more problems for any assignment. The fact that one of the Cummings had escaped had been her fault.
“Lucky she didn’t break your nose. Puffy eyes, man. It’s a major pain to sight a target from an angle.”
“He could always stand sideways and look out of his good eye.”
Helen felt a flash of guilt until she remembered why she’d hit him. She pursed her lips. Well, she hadn’t broken his jaw or his nose, so their good-natured ribbing was for her benefit. Besides, she had the suspicion that they were trying to get her to say something, perhaps give information about why she was so angry. She looked at him grimly. Let Mr. Know-It-All explain the situation himself.
Jed cocked his head for an instant. “I’m looking at you out of the good eye right now.” Helen watched as he used the remote to move a set of photos. “Resuming run-through. Gorman caught. Dragan Dilaver the subsidiary. The explosive trigger in Macedonia. The SEED in Germany. An underground network of moles inside the CIA, stealing and dispersing information. We’re
When she’d woken up, she’d instinctively understood what her inner voice had been telling her. She had mistaken her strange dream for what they called “lucid dreaming”, that state of consciousness that she often had when she was aware that she was sleeping and dreaming at the same time. Not only that, she had wrongly assumed that she’d invaded Hades’ dreams again.
Half-awake and still aroused, she’d allowed her mind to drift in search of those hands and lips, letting it wander off as she slowly surfaced. Then she’d experienced that odd dizzying sensation that she had had yesterday, catching a glimpse of dark hair and silvery eyes and this very room, before she was knocked sideways by the same blinding pain.
She knew—absolutely—bone deep, that Jed McNeil was Hades. It was too coincidental that twice now, when she’d managed to slip into remote-viewing mode while thinking of Hades, she’d seen him instead.
Fully conscious after the headache, she’d realized that it was not nighttime, which meant that she and Hades weren’t doing their usual brain synchronization exercise. She’d jerked out of bed and had barely taken the time to freshen up as her mind raged, denied, processed, denied, argued, and denied. She’d rushed here without even remembering how she’d gotten there, as if she just knew where to find him, and strode through the main office past a group of operatives.
It now occurred to her that no one had stopped her. Not that it would have mattered. She had been so angry she would have fought her way in just to see whether he was really here. Punching him felt so good, she was almost too giddy to do anything but sit here and savor it.
“Proposals?” Jed asked calmly. By now, a small cut had opened at the corner of his mouth.
She had to give it to him. He was one cool cat. He was looking at Sullivan as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Umm…how about a break?” Sullivan replied drolly, rubbing his chin.
Helen noted the amused gleam in his eyes, then cast her gaze at the others. Shahrukh was looking at his notes, a tiny smile on his strong lips. Flyboy was sniffing at a pencil as if it was some fine cigar.
She relaxed—just a little. She didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between herself and these men with whom she’d barely begun working. There were seven of them to her one, not counting T., and she had to figure out what the dynamics were here and learn how to work it to her advantage. Her own agency, GEM, was made up of mainly women and their modus operandi couldn’t be more different. She had the feeling that working closely with these men was going to be eye-opening, to say the least.
“Do you need one?” Jed asked.
“Nope. But I thought you might need it to take care of that swelling before it gets too puffy. That could be problematic for the next assignment.”
Helen frowned. Ooops. She hoped she hadn’t caused more problems for any assignment. The fact that one of the Cummings had escaped had been her fault.
“Lucky she didn’t break your nose. Puffy eyes, man. It’s a major pain to sight a target from an angle.”
“He could always stand sideways and look out of his good eye.”
Helen felt a flash of guilt until she remembered why she’d hit him. She pursed her lips. Well, she hadn’t broken his jaw or his nose, so their good-natured ribbing was for her benefit. Besides, she had the suspicion that they were trying to get her to say something, perhaps give information about why she was so angry. She looked at him grimly. Let Mr. Know-It-All explain the situation himself.
Jed cocked his head for an instant. “I’m looking at you out of the good eye right now.” Helen watched as he used the remote to move a set of photos. “Resuming run-through. Gorman caught. Dragan Dilaver the subsidiary. The explosive trigger in Macedonia. The SEED in Germany. An underground network of moles inside the CIA, stealing and dispersing information. We’re
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