Virtually Hers: Virtually, Book 2

by Gennita Low

  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 still in the dark about the flight simulation program and the missing Stealth. Question: Who’s the hidden power behind these thefts? Agenda? Sullivan and Shahrukh, you were backtracking the list and following leads.”

  Helen bit down her lower lip. The cadence of his speech—it reminded her of Hades when he summarized things.

  “Suggestion. We have the SEED. We can put it out in the market through Diamond. Right now, Deutsche International thinks he’s nabbed it from them,” Sullivan said.

  “I think there is a bigger agenda than just weapons stolen. If the old KGB is involved, there is something going on behind the scenes,” Heath said.

  Jed nodded. “Agreed. They didn’t collect information for ten years, wheeling and dealing weapons, just for profit alone.” He clicked on the remote and two maps came up side by side. “On the left is Velesta. On the right is Frankfurt. Both these cities are on opposite ends of the economic scale. We need to find out three things. One, who is Dilaver’s contact? Two, why is Deutsche International, a think-tank, buying a decoder from a double-agent? Three,” Jed paused for a moment, then added, “we need to find out what Hell bumped into when she was in the stairwell at Deutsche. These CIA hostiles were after the decoder and her, since they tranqued her instead of using live ammo.”

  Helen straightened up at the mention of her name. He called her “Hell”, though. Hades liked to call her Elena.

  “Wait, we don’t know if they were really after the decoder,” Flyboy pointed out.

  “You don’t think it’s coincidental that they showed up right after Hell finished her mission? Why couldn’t they have just nabbed her when she was entering Deutsche?” Jed countered.

  “Point taken, but if it was related to Hell, then it has something to do with the Supersoldier program and not the mission itself,” Flyboy said.

  “Why would the CIA want me?” Helen asked, puzzled. “They trained me themselves.”

  “We’re talking about the faction inside the CIA that’s been infested with moles,” Flyboy told her. “We’ve been working on zeroing in on their identities the past two years while you were in training. Many of them disappeared underground when we caught CIA Deputy Director Gorman.”

  “Cummings and his wife were two of them,” Helen guessed.

  Flyboy nodded. “A few of them took off with some important documentation. The SEED is one of the most important items that disappeared.” He gave her one of his trademark devastating smiles, flashing teeth and dimples. “You finding and retrieving it before it was sold and distributed was tantamount to a miracle. Gorman could only provide a list of names and we have a special task force at the CIA working on matching up possible leaks and weapon drop-offs from the past ten years. It was taking forever.”

  Helen smiled back. “Why do I get the feeling that no one had much hope that I’d get it done?”

  “Not true. You think COMCEN’s going to waste all that money on something it hadn’t run through Eight Ball for success/failure percentages? You should know better than that by now, Hell,” Flyboy chided.

  Eight Ball was the Center’s supercomputer. Helen liked its quirky personality. Its programmer obviously enjoyed tinkering with it, what with the computer’s knack at finding odd catch-phrases and using them at the strangest moments.

  “What was Eight Ball’s percentages for my performance?” she asked curiously.

  “Heath, any information coming from Mrs. Cummings?” Jed asked, interrupting them.

  Helen looked at him and thought she saw a glint in his eyes. Was there finally a reaction to her punch? She glanced back at Flyboy who gave her a small shrug.

  She turned her attention to Heath, sitting next to her. A few days ago, she’d thought he could be Hades. In comparison to Flyboy, there was something very dark and very still about Heath, like a deep lagoon. When she’d asked about his role within the unit, she’d been told it was “retrieval”. “Retrieval” appeared to include interrogation of prisoners.

  “I’m working on it,” Heath said. “She gave up her husband for a reason and I’ll get a name sooner or later.”

  “Make it sooner,” Jed said softly. “I’ve a feeling there is a time schedule behind all this. We have to find the connection between the trigger and the decoder, between Dilaver in Macedonia and the think-tank in Germany. Something’s brewing.”

  “If we retrieve both items, we stop it. Helen’s helped us with one, why not let her try to get the other?” Shahrukh suggested.

  “You mean, remote view it?” Helen asked.

  “Couldn’t you pinpoint where the explosive is?”

  “No,” Jed said.

  “Why not?” Flyboy asked.

  “Because remote viewing doesn’t work like that. From what we know, the crates are somewhere in the hills in Macedonia. If it’s there, Helen would see the same mountainous surroundings unless there’s
a specific landmark, which we don’t have. Isn’t that right, Hell?”

  She nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Locating objects or persons in a vast area isn’t easy for a remote viewer. We sense the surroundings and describe them, but we don’t really know the exact spot.”

  “Not understanding,” Sullivan said. “How did you manage to get the exact location of the SEED during the test then?”

  “I described what I saw to my monitor,” Helen explained, staring hard at Jed, “and he appeared to recognize enough elements of my visual to narrow down the options. Then, he directed me to certain landmarks he knew would pinpoint the exact location. It appeared my monitor was picked specifically because he had inside knowledge of a number of places that are off-limits to outsiders.”

  “It sounds like guessing to me,” Sullivan muttered.

  “Unless immersive virtual reality’s more than just the monitor listening in on her remote-viewing sessions, Sullivan, but you’ll have to ask Hell about that,” Armando said and slyly added with a wink at Hell, “which helps you, Hell, to eliminate one more man off your list, hmm?”

  Helen had to stop a grin from forming. Armando knew she’d been trying desperately to figure out which of them was Hades. He had been one of the prime suspects, actually, until he’d kissed her and then backed off. Something had told her that the real person behind Hades wouldn’t have done that in real life; he’d have kept pushing, just as he always did in virtual reality.

  “It takes time to eliminate a man off my list,” Helen drawled, sitting back and studying them, “and definitely more than a few questions about my remote viewing skills. I like being thoroughly sure, but I don’t think any of you would like me inside your mind that long, would you?”

  She almost chuckled at the predictable “no fucking way” expression in their eyes. A couple of them looked intrigued. One in particular was looking at her too intently. She knew whom she was after but it didn’t hurt to let them all know that she was after their asses too for having played a part in not telling her what was going on. Each of them had been testing her, wondering about her skill, and trying to see how far they could push. She was enjoying turning the tables, letting them think she could get into their secrets if she chose.

  Ha, take that. Her chin tilted up just a tiny bit when her gaze encountered Jed’s, which seemed to have the ability to make her spine tingle. The trickle of dried blood at the side of those masculine lips made him look even more dangerous. A bruise was starting to show.

  “I wouldn’t mind it at all,” Heath said quietly. “It might be an interesting experience, having you in my mind.”

  “I suggest you make the appointment later and keep your mind on breaking Mrs. Cummings for now,” Jed said.

  Heath smiled slowly, as if what Jed suggested was child’s play. “I’ll hurry up the time table,” he promised softly. “Helen and I would make a good team, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, don’t you, Jed?” Helen asked, smiling too.

  Icy silver eyes met hers. Those eyes had been watching her all these months. “We’ll see. You’ll need to catch up on the Cummings files now that you’ve passed the test the other agencies demanded. de Clerq will give you the relevant passwords later so you can download from Eight Ball.”

  The person she was trying to provoke wasn’t taking the bait. She felt frustrated. Cheated. Damn him, he was determined to be the one to set the tone and the pace of their relationship.

  She quickly averted her eyes. Where the hell had that come from? They didn’t have any relationship. “Partnership,” she mumbled to herself, her mind scurrying to find another choice for whatever it was they had between them. “Collaboration. Dammit.” None of the synonyms fit.

  “Did you say something?” Jed asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” That she wanted to share out loud anyway.

  “Then let’s wrap it up. The old alliance within the KGB theory sounds interesting. I’m going to call up some old contacts. You all do the same. We have to find a way for us to infiltrate.”

  With a few parting instructions, Jed turned and headed for the door. Helen frowned. Wait a minute. He wasn’t going to just leave again without talking to her, was he?

  But he most definitely was. As the others got up, gathering their files and folders, Helen pushed her chair back and took several long strides after Jed. All she saw was the back of him, nicely molded in a pair of jeans, and the door shut.

  “Do you think she’s going to hit him again?” Someone mockingly asked, followed by male laughter, as she slipped through the door.

  Chapter Six

  “Wait!”

  Jed kept walking. He hadn’t planned on Elena getting up so soon. She was supposed to be resting. Usually, it took quiet time for the subconscious to absorb a hypnotic suggestion. Had he failed? It sometimes took a few sessions to embed successfully, but he’d thought he’d managed to lead Elena along to the right point.

  He frowned. For selfish reasons he hadn’t exercised his usual patience with her. And that odd sensation that told him when she was near—what was that? His frown deepened. He’d felt it earlier while on the ship too, but she wasn’t anywhere near that location.

  He ignored the open curiosity from the others in the office area at the sight of them. No doubt the swelling on his face had something to do with it. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Elena packed quite a punch in her swing.

  “I’m getting tired of going after you. Are you such a fucking coward,” she demanded, as she fell into step beside him, “that you won’t face me and answer my questions?”

  His lips quirked. But he did want her to chase him around. He’d wanted her to keep thinking about him. “I thought we had an appointment, which you missed,” he reminded her. He had other things in mind besides talking, of course. “Now I have two more meetings today.”

  “That was before…before what you did.” She grabbed his arm hard, then deliberately stepped in front of him, halting his progress toward the elevator. “I want to talk now.”

  Her words told him a lot. First, that she knew and comprehended what had happened besides their sexual encounter. He wasn’t surprised that she’d caught on because she was a strong woman mentally—one of the strongest he’d met, actually—and had continually resisted him.

  It wasn’t until the breakthrough with the brain entrainment machine, when she’d somehow entered his dreams, that he’d found a chink in her armor. He would use that subconscious desire to seek him out even in her sleep against her. It was new territory for a jaded operative like him. Seduction had never been this intriguing. Now, he wondered whether he’d possibly not pushed hard enough. Sexual imprinting, after all, meant sexually bonding with a target repeatedly, and he had just started.

  He almost smiled again. Not hard enough? The growing constriction in his pants reminded him how hard she’d gotten, and was now making, him. Without even trying. Damn, but he wanted her.

  He moved to the side. She countered, blocking his path again.

  He considered the idea of pushing her through one of the adjoining doors in the hallway and showing her exactly what he had in mind. Talk wasn’t the top priority. His session with her had left him hard and wanting, needing the real touch of her instead of all that virtual shit floating in his head. But his job had to come first.

  Even now, standing inches away from him, the faint scent of her fragrance teased him with thoughts of using his tongue to find its source. He hadn’t been so easily aroused in a long time.

  He studied her angry eyes. Some things one couldn’t find out in virtual reality—her eyes changed to a muted green when she was emotional. Would they change color when he was buried inside her?

  That thought made him even more aroused. This sexual need for her. Maybe he’d mistakenly imprinted himself instead. His lips finally quirked with suppressed humor.

  “It’s not funny!”

  Her other hand reached up to shove him. At that mo
ment the elevator door opened. Jed neatly caught the free hand, twisted his body sideways and pulled her along with him into the empty carriage. He pressed the floor he wanted and the doors slid shut. Noting that she wasn’t putting up much of a fight, he typed the code onto the pad, deactivating the micro-eye. He supposed he could test whether his hard work paid off.

  Her eyes widened when he moved her captured hand down to the bulge in front of his pants.

  “Five minutes,” he said, then pressed forward, pushing her against the wall, holding her hand tightly as she reflexively cupped him. She gasped as he bit her neck. “Starting now. I’ll just show you your answers.”

  He had to be quick, knock her off her feet before she realized what was happening. Her free hand slammed up against his chest in warning.

  “What the hell are you—”

  He easily unzipped her pants. He liked this latest style of low-riding hip huggers. Made access easy. Especially when the woman hadn’t bothered with panties.

  He buried his face in her neck, ignoring the slight discomfort of his bruised face, and used his weight to trap her. He was counting on her still having that strange sexual sensitivity she’d somehow gotten from the use of the serum. Two years’ worth of imbalance for him to take advantage of.

  “Stop it,” she whispered, the tone of her voice hushed and urgent.

  “Make me,” he challenged.

  But she was already wet and ready, her body limp and willing, allowing him to easily knee her legs further apart. His fingers fit tightly inside those hip huggers. He slid them downward. Then up. She let out a familiar throaty sound. There. Found the right spot.

  “Wherever I want. However I please,” he whispered. She gasped, her hand no longer pushing him away. That was a good sign. “Isn’t this what you’re after?”

  “No…!”

  “So why aren’t you stopping me? Admit it. You want this more than you want to beat me up.”

  “I want to see the real Hades. Then I’ll beat you up.”

  “Maybe you got the wrong guy,” he challenged softly. He teased the wet entrance with his middle finger, probing the top of the sensitive slit, pushing in slightly against her natural feminine resistance. “What if I’m not him?”