by Gennita Low
He punched in the security code and leaned forward for the pupil scan. Who would have thought that “deep immersion” would mean that when they slept hooked to the same brain entrainment machine, they’d somehow invade each other’s dreams? He wasn’t sure what that meant, wasn’t even sure whether he liked the idea, except that for now, it aided him to get physically and mentally closer to Helen Roston. That part, he liked. Very much.
Dr. Kirkland’s office door was open. He looked up expectantly when Jed walked in.
“Were you expecting me?” Jed asked.
“No, I’m waiting for Helen.”
Good. Then he didn’t need to make a trip to see her. He took a seat by the desk. “I thought she’s been cleared for a few days off. She should be at her place resting.”
“She called an hour ago and told me that she needed to see me. She told me that her condition was back.” Kirkland looked at him quizzically. “She also asked me to tell Jed McNeil that she needed to see him ASAP.”
Jed waited a beat. The implication of that message was pretty clear. “Those were her words?”
“Exact words. I didn’t give you away. I told her that I’d pass that message on if I saw you, adding that it was highly unlikely since I knew you were out on a mission and would be inundated with meetings when you got back. But yet, here you are.” Kirkland’s brows lifted enquiringly. “Did you get hurt? Have you revealed yourself to her? It sounded as if she knew who her trainer was.”
Did she? Jed considered for a few moments. “She’s guessing. Probably testing you too.” Or maybe she’d finally seen his face in her dreams. She’d told him that she couldn’t quite make out the face of the man whenever she had one of those shared dreams. “What else?”
“She said she was having problems sleeping, that her…ah…sensitivity was bothering her. Also, she had a massive migraine just before that. Being that Armando also had headaches when he was testing the serum, I told her to come in so I could give her another check-up, and that’s when she said that she needed to see you ASAP.” Dr. Kirkland smiled. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Her “sensitivity” was a polite way to put it. Jed had seen how she’d responded to his touch during her extremely “sensitive” state. She hadn’t been willing to have anyone look at her injured leg because of it. Until he forced the issue, that was. He’d had to take care of her leg. And her. He doubted whether she’d forgiven him for that last part yet.
“I’m not injured, Doc.” Jed debated for a moment whether to tell the doctor that he and Helen had been intimate. He probably knew already. “Did she elaborate more about her sensitivity?”
Kirkland nodded. “Extreme sensitivity to touch to the point of unbearable. That’s why she hadn’t wanted a physical when she first came back in from the mission. Since she wasn’t limping any more, and knowing that you’d used the bio-compound on her leg the night before, I didn’t give her a thorough check-up.” His gaze grew more speculative. “Not that I want all the details, Jed, but if you keep giving her private visits, she’s bound to discover your identity.”
“You can’t give deep tissue massage through virtual reality, Doc.” A small wry smile formed. He liked the idea of private visitations very much. “The mind can be tricked but her injury would still be there.”
“Yes, I know, and since she’s as obstinate as you are, and wouldn’t let anyone touch her, you took the risk and went to her yourself.”
“She wasn’t being obstinate,” Jed said, and then conceded, “just a little, but it was mostly that she couldn’t figure out why she felt the way she did. She wasn’t comfortable explaining her condition.”
“Even to her doctor?”
Jed shrugged. “I took care of it.”
Kirkland paused briefly, studying Jed. “And now she knows you’re her monitor.”
“She isn’t sure.” He liked the idea of pushing her further. Sexual imprinting was all about manipulation, after all. “Continue to avoid giving her a direct answer. We’ll see what she wants once she’s here.”
Want and need were two different animals. Jed knew what Helen needed. The fact that she asked about him meant she was getting closer to finding out who her monitor was, but that didn’t tell him how she was going to get relief without direct confrontation. She was going to be in one hell of a mood.
His lips quirked at using her nickname as a pun. There was no halfway when it came to Helen Roston. Everyone fondly called her “Hell-on-wheels”, “Hell-ery”, or joked that she was a hell of a woman. Now she was hell-bent on getting his identity.
“If she insists on seeing you? You know how she can be.”
“You can give her my communication number.”
He’d been a little worried about her but if she was well enough to ignore a direct order to rest and instead rush here to talk Kirkland into telling her about her monitor, she couldn’t be in too much need of a lengthy downtime. He couldn’t decide whether to reward her or punish her for disobeying orders. He’d wait, see what she’d do first.
A strong woman like Helen would have her guard up once she found out his identity. He’d better take every advantage given him. Keeping her off-balance was one way. In her sensitive state, she was at his mercy. Surely, as a trained operative aware of having been imprinted, she’d be aware of that fact. In her condition, it’d be easy to keep her in a state of arousal for a while. It’d be interesting to see how long she would last.
***
Helen went through the lobby and pressed the elevator button. Dr. Kirkland was waiting for her. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about anything, not really, but he was the only person from whom she might be able to get some answers. She mentally went through all the points she was going to bring up. Focus. I need to keep focusing on the points.
Everything was riding on her body being able to handle the serum. She’d read about the possible aftereffects, had been prepared for disorientation, pain even, but not this…this…whatever this was. Armando Chang had tried to warn her.
She entered the elevator. Reaching out, she realized both her hands were clenched. She sighed, unclenched them, and entered her code. She’d been trying so hard to block out her sensitivity that she hadn’t noticed how tightly wound up she was. A few days’ rest? What rest?
“There has to be a way out of this problem,” she muttered. There had to be.
Oh, but there was, but there had to be another way, one that had nothing to do with him. Instantly, the memory of his dark shadow looming over her bed taunted her. She gritted her teeth with frustration as sensations she shouldn’t be feeling while standing alone in the middle of an elevator started to bloom, making her weak in the knees.
No, she hadn’t prepared herself for this at all.
She charged out of the elevator, hurrying down the corridor toward the Medic wing, trying to focus on her destination rather than her condition. If she didn’t have a tight grip on herself, she’d be standing here lost in sensation. That wouldn’t be good.
Hearing voices, she collected herself and slowed before turning the corner. She came to a dead stop. Talk about the devil. Jed McNeil was standing in the hallway with two men in camouflaged fatigues, his attention on a piece of paper.
Helen stared at him. It was ridiculous how her heart rate zoomed up at the sight of him. He was dressed in black, exactly how she’d seen him in those few moments when she’d remote viewed the ship. Side by side with the other two uniformed men, he looked fighting fit, lean and dangerous, the tight black shirt molding his athletic body like a second skin.
As she headed closer toward the group, the man to Jed’s right paused in the middle of a sentence and nodded at her before resuming. Jed didn’t look up, continuing to read the piece of paper in his hand, as if he hadn’t noticed the hesitation.
She realized then that he wasn’t going to look up to acknowledge her at all. Determinedly, she walked up to them, murmuring “excuse me”, as she brushed past. No reaction from Jed.
&nb
sp; Should she greet him? Why not? “Agent McNeil.”
His lashes were long and dark. A lock of hair curled over his forehead and she suddenly felt the urge to comb it with her fingers. What would it feel like?
It dawned on her that this was the first time she’d stood still long enough to really look at him. The first time she’d met the infamous Number Nine, she’d literally landed at his feet, having just fought off an attack. The next time didn’t count either; she hadn’t been herself.
Not that she was herself now. But if he really was her monitor…
He lifted his gaze from that piece of paper. His full attention felt like a jolt of electricity. She stared into those strange light eyes of his, trying to see whether he’d somehow betray that he was her monitor. But his gaze was cool, impersonal, curt, even.
“Agent Roston,” he said. And started to walk away, followed by the two operatives.
Helen stared after him, stunned at the quick dismissal.
“Wait!” she called out.
That stopped him. He turned.
“Do you need something, Agent Roston?”
She could feel her temper rising. If that was his polite way of saying he had something important to do and she was bothering him, he failed miserably. After all, she was part of his team now. “Yes, actually I do. Can I see you in private as soon as possible?”
“Tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? It had to be today. She had to know if he was Hades or not. “Can it be sooner?” she asked, trying to sound polite.
“Tomorrow,” he reiterated softly, “will be soon enough, Miss Roston. You’ve been given a few days off.”
What was that supposed to mean? “What if it’s an emergency?”
She tried to appear cool and calm as he quietly studied her for a moment. These small silences he took were unnerving, especially with those eyes which seemed to see too much.
He cocked his head a fraction. “Well?”
“Well, what?” she asked, a frown forming.
“The emergency, Agent Roston.”
She shook her head. “It’s private, Agent McNeil,” she said, and instantly regretted it.
A hint of amusement entered those glacial eyes. He retraced his footsteps until he stood in front of her.
“It’s a private emergency?” His low raspy voice made the question sound even more intimate. “Is this private enough?”
He wasn’t standing too close but something about him made Helen feel as if every male inch of him was pressed against her. She almost leaned closer, to see whether she was imagining the heat emanating from his body, but resisted the temptation just in time.
She stared at the black fabric spanning his chest and wondered at the solid strength it projected. What would it be like to smooth her hands over it? Immediately the palms of her hands started itching.
What the hell was the matter with her? She mentally slapped herself, lifting her gaze off his body to his face. The amusement was palpable now, even though his expression remained unreadable. She hoped he couldn’t sense the highly agitated emotions that were swirling inside her.
“No,” she said.
“No?” One eyebrow raised.
The other two operatives looked on with interest as Helen struggled with unfamiliar frustration. On one hand, she wanted Jed alone so she could confront him. On the other hand, she wanted to call his bluff. She had a feeling, though, that it wouldn’t be an easy task to ruffle Jed McNeil.
But she wasn’t nicknamed Hell for nothing. Time to be brash.
She gave him her best innocuous smile. “It isn’t exactly an emergency, but it has to be now, while I’m still suff…under the effects of the serum. Since the commandos will be going on my missions, I thought I’d better test each of you for physical prowess,” she drawled, “you know, see whether any of you can keep up.”
She kept the smile on her face, as if she hadn’t just pulled a tiger’s tail. He didn’t move, yet she could feel the subtle change in the air. He was holding back; she was sure of it. Besides, judging from the amused looks on the other two men, there was no way the man would back off from that kind of challenge.
“SYMBIOS 2 locks exhaustion and pain,” Jed said politely. “Do you want me to exhaust you or cause you discomfort?”
“Perhaps SYMBIOS 2 will outlast your efforts and you’ll be the one left exhausted and in discomfort,” she pointed out softly.
The corners of his lips quirked in that mocking way that both fascinated and irritated her. “I have three meetings today, back-to-back. I’m at your disposal any time after that.” His gaze traveled down her body. “Stay comfortable, Agent Roston. All the commandos wouldn’t want you suffering from the effects of the serum now, would we?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, turning back to his waiting men and walking off. Helen stared after his retreating back, not at all sure who had won that round. Damn. He’d distracted her so that she hadn’t asked how to get hold of him and when exactly that last meeting would end.
To her relief, Dr. Kirkland’s door was open and he was alone. Right now, she didn’t want his assistant or any other Medic listening in.
“Helen,” he greeted her warmly. “Come on in. Close the door behind you and have a seat.”
“Are we alone?” Helen asked. “No cameras, no recorders, no hidden robot under your desk?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “No, not even a robot under my desk. This will be just a doctor-patient confidential session.”
“Good.” Helen sat down. “It’s very uncomfortable for me talking about my current problem.”
“You explained it quite well when we talked the last time. The SYMBIOS serum was meant to deflect your pain receptors as well as limit certain chemicals in your brain so you could function at one hundred percent immediately after remote viewing. It certainly makes sense that as the serum wears off, your body compensates the chemicals it’d been tricked into thinking your system lacked. Hence, the over-compensating problem since they had been present all along, camouflaged from your brain.”
Helen pursed her lips. Everything sounded so nicely scientific and ridiculously logical when someone in a white coat explained it. She wondered how Jed McNeil would explain it.
“Armando told me he doesn’t get this feeling,” she said. That was another commando she had to see soon.
“Agent Chang says he’s probably had more intimate partners than you in the past two years,” Dr. Kirkland pointed out.
Oh, that was just great. Her love life was the subject of conversation among them all. “Armando talked to you about me?”
“But of course. He’s the only other operative who has tried the new serum, Helen. When I asked him for information that I could use to help your condition, he offered that insight. It makes sense. Messing with the brain can bring out the oddest effects and your needing sexual gratification is perhaps, for lack of a better word, a blessing.”
“A blessing?” Helen asked incredulously. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the desk. The acrylic surface felt cool against her heated skin. She wanted to put her forehead down. “A blessing?”
Dr. Kirkland nodded. “It could be worse. Armando becomes blind from headaches after using the serum.”
“Oh.”
Put that way, her condition certainly didn’t sound so serious. Why hadn’t Armando just told her that? He’d made it sound like some kind of unworldly experience, the way he called it the “reckoning”.
“We keep test results a secret because that’s part of being an experiment.” Dr. Kirkland unerringly read her mind. “Everything has to be done with a clean slate each time, so that every cause and effect are separate from the previous experiment.”
“I know. It’s just that I think there’s more to it than chemical imbalance. This…” Helen waved her hand impatiently. “This is sensory overload. I feel out of control. If I rub a bar of soap while taking a shower, it becomes…Doc, it becomes embarrassing, okay? I forget that I’m taking a bath becau
se my mind is on the feel of the soap suds and…”
She shrugged. No need to go into more details. She knew Dr. Kirkland wouldn’t laugh or make fun of her. He was a doctor, so she was just a lab rat in his eyes, but she didn’t feel like being told all she needed was sex, either.
“In every experiment, it comes down to the subject and all the things he or she has gone through and are going through in his or her daily life,” he said quietly. “Control is an important part of your make-up, Helen. Loss of it is bound to affect you more psychologically. Remember too, that your brainwaves are being manipulated whenever you sleep here. We’re syncing your sleep stages with that of your monitor with the theory that it’d help your remote viewing in virtual reality. That’s the experiment we’re monitoring, but obviously, your brain’s doing other things as well that’s not part of this experiment.”
Like having sexual dreams that belonged to her monitor. She didn’t want to go there. Dr. K would start asking her for details and the way even thinking about anything sensual was affecting her, she dared not imagine what talking about it in detail would do.
“Is there something that can be done to lessen the sensitivity?” she asked.
“I don’t recommend any more drugs at this point,” he replied. “It’ll confuse your system even more.”
Helen sighed. “I was afraid you might say that.”
“You need to be examined,” Dr. Kirkland said gently.
She shook her head. “Not now.”
“It can be by a female physician, if you’re uncomfortable. But actually, I think you already know the solution.”
“I do?” she asked, startled.
Dr. Kirkland nodded. “Tell me, Helen, how bad was your condition before you left COMCEN for your downtime? You were wandering around for a long while before you finally went to bed. And then, when you finally let me examine you in the morning, you were able to walk without pain and that sensitivity had subsided. Whatever you did that night quelled your condition temporarily. It’s a temporary solution until we figure out another way.”
