had ripped her a new one. Payback, even for generals, was a bitch.
“So if you don’t avoid him, he’ll be focused on why I wanted you to meet.” The general’s gaze was reflective now. “Is this what you do for the Major?”
Doc wasn’t sure how to answer that. There was a hint of irony in his eyes that told her he sensed more than he was saying. He wasn’t stupid, even if the reception hadn’t been his brightest moment, and she’d be wise not to forget it.
“I do what’s required to meet my mission objectives, sir.”
“And have you ever failed to meet an objective?”
Doc might be a scientist, but she still had a streak of superstition running through her. She didn’t like tempting fate, even when it was the truth.
“No.” She made a face. “Not yet.”
“You weren’t much of a chameleon at the reception.”
Doc’s chin lifted. “Camo was not my choice, and I was off duty.”
He gave a sharp nod that could have meant anything.
“If that’s what you can do off duty, I can’t wait to see what you do when you are.”
Doc thought she heard fate cackling in the distance. What if the impossible was impossible this time?
Chapter Four
It pleased Hel that Delilah was his primary healer, though he was surprised that the General had allowed them to meet. Halliwell believed, perhaps with cause, that Hel had a weakness for Earth women. So why trail this one in front of him?
Apart from her appearance, there were other things intriguing about Delilah. The healer was very different in her—he searched for the right word and finally settled for—aspect from how she’d appeared at the reception. Women could be dangerous in a variety of ways, but Delilah had exuded a physical threat at the reception just before the explosion. Her aspect was harder to quantify when she’d been pacing, but it had shifted to sultry seductress when Naman approached. He’d felt the façade of each aspect. Why did he know this? How did he know this? He had seen her adapt decisively to each change in circumstances, but before this he’d felt he knew her.
The charm and her sense of humor were a nice bonus, something he’d never required from a female before. He hoped time would provide clarity—and if the general was throwing the dangerous Delilah at him, well, Hel didn’t mind. Safety was overrated.
The uneasy peace had been difficult for him in the last two years and now he was tied to a bed with a government to run. A woman would be a pleasant distraction, though that was all she could be. They were galaxies apart in too many ways. His enemies had tried to use women to take him down in the past. Of course they had failed. His ability to use, without being used, might explain the more pragmatic approach of the bomb. Hel hoped his continued survival would be a lesson to all his enemies.
The distracting woman in question chose that moment to enter his room, and he felt an unfamiliar shock of sexual awareness blast through him with a fierceness that surprised him. If she were the general’s weapon of choice, the general had shown unexpected cunning. Unless someone else was playing a game with him? The general had been injured, almost killed in the blast, too. He needed to think about this further, but not around the very perceptive Delilah. Her eyes saw too much.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Her voice was brisk, very healer this new ship day aboard the Doolittle , but her eyes had turned purple, a phenomenon that appeared to be reserved for him.
He smiled at her and the color got richer. An answering smile curled her mouth. He was going to have to kiss her soon.
“I am tired of this bed.” Unless she consented to share it.
Today she was back in camo, but this version, he had learned, were called scrubs for a reason clear only to them. The fabric appeared softer and moved when she did, making it somewhat more pleasing than what she’d worn to the reception. Her feet were covered. A pity. The memory
“So if you don’t avoid him, he’ll be focused on why I wanted you to meet.” The general’s gaze was reflective now. “Is this what you do for the Major?”
Doc wasn’t sure how to answer that. There was a hint of irony in his eyes that told her he sensed more than he was saying. He wasn’t stupid, even if the reception hadn’t been his brightest moment, and she’d be wise not to forget it.
“I do what’s required to meet my mission objectives, sir.”
“And have you ever failed to meet an objective?”
Doc might be a scientist, but she still had a streak of superstition running through her. She didn’t like tempting fate, even when it was the truth.
“No.” She made a face. “Not yet.”
“You weren’t much of a chameleon at the reception.”
Doc’s chin lifted. “Camo was not my choice, and I was off duty.”
He gave a sharp nod that could have meant anything.
“If that’s what you can do off duty, I can’t wait to see what you do when you are.”
Doc thought she heard fate cackling in the distance. What if the impossible was impossible this time?
Chapter Four
It pleased Hel that Delilah was his primary healer, though he was surprised that the General had allowed them to meet. Halliwell believed, perhaps with cause, that Hel had a weakness for Earth women. So why trail this one in front of him?
Apart from her appearance, there were other things intriguing about Delilah. The healer was very different in her—he searched for the right word and finally settled for—aspect from how she’d appeared at the reception. Women could be dangerous in a variety of ways, but Delilah had exuded a physical threat at the reception just before the explosion. Her aspect was harder to quantify when she’d been pacing, but it had shifted to sultry seductress when Naman approached. He’d felt the façade of each aspect. Why did he know this? How did he know this? He had seen her adapt decisively to each change in circumstances, but before this he’d felt he knew her.
The charm and her sense of humor were a nice bonus, something he’d never required from a female before. He hoped time would provide clarity—and if the general was throwing the dangerous Delilah at him, well, Hel didn’t mind. Safety was overrated.
The uneasy peace had been difficult for him in the last two years and now he was tied to a bed with a government to run. A woman would be a pleasant distraction, though that was all she could be. They were galaxies apart in too many ways. His enemies had tried to use women to take him down in the past. Of course they had failed. His ability to use, without being used, might explain the more pragmatic approach of the bomb. Hel hoped his continued survival would be a lesson to all his enemies.
The distracting woman in question chose that moment to enter his room, and he felt an unfamiliar shock of sexual awareness blast through him with a fierceness that surprised him. If she were the general’s weapon of choice, the general had shown unexpected cunning. Unless someone else was playing a game with him? The general had been injured, almost killed in the blast, too. He needed to think about this further, but not around the very perceptive Delilah. Her eyes saw too much.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Her voice was brisk, very healer this new ship day aboard the Doolittle , but her eyes had turned purple, a phenomenon that appeared to be reserved for him.
He smiled at her and the color got richer. An answering smile curled her mouth. He was going to have to kiss her soon.
“I am tired of this bed.” Unless she consented to share it.
Today she was back in camo, but this version, he had learned, were called scrubs for a reason clear only to them. The fabric appeared softer and moved when she did, making it somewhat more pleasing than what she’d worn to the reception. Her feet were covered. A pity. The memory
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