Girl Gone Nova (6 page)

“What the
hell
were you thinking?”

She blinked. “That if I didn’t disarm it more people would die?” She kept her tone mild and bumped up the humility factor some more. She liked exercises in futility.

“What are you talking about?”

“The bomb?” What was he talking about?

“Why would I be upset about that?”

Doc could think of several reasons, but if he wasn’t upset about it, why provide more ammo for his outrage?

“Isn’t that what you do?” the general snapped.

He thought she disarmed bombs? He must know some unusual UN doctors. Unless he knew who she was. And even if he did, the answer would still be, no, she didn’t disarm bombs.

The Major, who’d taken her unique skill set and focused it for his use, called her a troubleshooter, because it didn’t limit what he could have her do. None of which gave her a clue about why the general was pissed, no, make that apoplectic. It wouldn’t take that much to bring on a full-fledged heart attack. On the upside, he was in the right place if he had one.

“I’m talking about you and the Gadi Leader.”

Doc blinked again. She flipped through several responses and settled on, “He needed a doctor, sir.”

“I’m talking about the reception. You aren’t here to get googly-eyed over a man, particularly
that
one.”

Color surged into her cheeks, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. Did she want to admit she’d never felt like this? Not bloody likely. And had the tough-minded general just said googly-eyed?

That thought must have hit him at the same time. Color washed into his face, well, more color. The anger hadn’t subsided yet.

And his comments still didn’t answer the basic question of what he knew about her. Was he pissed at her as a member of the expedition or because he knew she was the
Chameleon
?

“The Leader’s reputation with women is,” he paused, “unfortunate.”

If she were forced to describe the Leader, unfortunate wouldn’t make her list, but she knew better than to tell him that. Her lack of response didn’t help his temper. The dressing down was thorough and unabridged. Doc bore it stoically. It wasn’t the first time someone had ripped her a new one, and it wouldn’t be the last. Though being ripped for getting “googly-eyed” was a first.

When he ran out of words—or steam—she ventured a comment.

“You’re doing well, sir. Your vitals look good.” Her gaze intercepted the heart monitor. “Well, they did.”

His color faded to normal as he stared at her. She almost thought his mouth twitched. She’d heard he had a sense of humor, but there’d been no evidence of it until now. If that was evidence.

He needed to know what had happened after the bomb, but his gaze didn’t invite confidences. She studied him from behind her harmless and misunderstood doctor face while she considered her options. His gaze narrowed. He wasn’t buying it, she realized. That was interesting. On the heels of that came another realization. Whether he knew who she was or not, she needed him to know who she was, if only because she was in another freaking galaxy. What limited support she got from the Major wasn’t available here.

“You have something you want to tell me, Doctor?”

Okay, that was kind of an invitation, though his tone could use some work. Nor did it answer the basic question: did he know the Chameleon was on board his ship? And if he didn’t know, what would he do when he found out?

Doc tended to dive into the pool, but this time she tested the water with a toe first. “You and the Leader were the primary targets of the bombing, sir.”

He didn’t blink. “And you know this how?”

“Four men arrived before the rescue teams. They split up and went hunting. I followed one team to you.”

He frowned, his gaze turning inward. His focus turned out again. “You dropped them?”

The bullet holes
were
a giveaway during the autopsy.

“I dropped two of them. Someone else took out the other two.” Hel? She didn’t say his name out loud. She never waved red flags at bulls if she didn’t need to.

A slight widening around the eyes was his only reaction. “Who the hell are you?”

She let her aspect shift. “The Major calls me Chameleon.”

He still didn’t blink. Doc was impressed. He didn’t look surprised either, which was interesting. That seemed to indicate he’d known the Chameleon was on board or he bluffed well.

“I thought your kind never broke cover.”

His tone told her he wasn’t a fan, but was his ire directed at the Major, the Chameleon or “her kind” in general?

“The Major allows me some latitude when I’m in the field.” Though calling another galaxy “the field” felt wrong on several levels.

His stare busted her to her core—something that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

“I wish you hadn’t met the Gadi Leader.”

Doc was glad he didn’t appear to require a response to this wish. She was unable to agree with him, and it wouldn’t be smart to point out it was his fault she had met the Leader. She tried not to do “not smart” and when she had to, only did it as an operational necessity.

“I want you to keep your distance, without looking like you’re keeping your distance.”

Yeah, that would work. Doc studied the general for a minute. “If I start staying away now, he’ll wonder why.” She frowned, considering what she’d learned about the Leader. “He’d expect everyone at the reception to be hand-picked by you, to have a specific reason for being there.”

“But I didn’t know who you were—”

“
We
know that, but he doesn’t. He probably thinks you meant him to meet me. That you had a plan, a master plan.” Doc felt a bit evil about winding him up like this. Of course, just because it was evil, didn’t make her wrong. And he 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?

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 of her narrow, elegant feet, the nails a shimmering pink, made his body heat.

“There’s no reason you can’t get up. In fact, we’re going to have you take a couple of short walks, one this morning and another after lunch. If it goes well, you can stroll as much as you feel like within the infirmary area.”

She didn’t say it, but they both knew it was a security issue. His people would not be pleased their Leader was on the Earth ship. If he remained cut off…

“Also, the General has made arrangements for some of your people to come aboard, once they’ve cleared security.”

“That’s very helpful.” And most unlike the good General. Hel wasn’t sure he wanted the accommodation until he’d isolated and eliminated the threat to his life. His well-honed instincts told him there was a link between whoever was after him among the Gadi and someone in this expedition. The General would top the list of suspects if he hadn’t been wounded in the explosion—though it didn’t totally clear him in Hel’s mind. With some reluctance he had to include Delilah on his list of suspects, despite the bomb she’d defused. It would not be the first time someone saved his life to gain his trust. He would have preferred communication by radio, but his people would be concerned he was being coerced. If the Council believed the Leader was being controlled, they’d move to replace him.

“You are a head of state. There are diplomatic protocols already worked out. Just a matter of implementing them.”

Her tone was pragmatic, but her eyes weren’t. The purple would start to fade, their gazes would meet and it flared again. The effect, against her matte white skin, would have made his head spin if he were the kind of man to let a woman make his head spin. It was something of a relief when she glanced down at the tablet she’d brought in with her.

“And your children want to see you. Arrangements are being worked out. They should be here in time for your first stroll.”

Hel frowned. His children? Did they want to see him? They didn’t act like they did.

As if she sensed his unease, she added, “Your mother says they’re upset. That they needed to see you were all right for themselves.” She hesitated, then added without looking at him, “It’s probably a natural reaction, considering they’ve already lost their mother.”

“Is my mother coming with them?” Hel tried not to flinch at the thought of his mother visiting here. There were so many things about this ship she would dislike. And she would blame him for the bombing, or worse, she might think his condition would make him more open to taking a new bond mate. It seemed everyone around him had a woman for him. A pity that, since the death of his mate, he’d seen only two women he wanted. Was it coincidence they were both from Earth?

“She didn’t want to try out the transport system. Sorry.” Amusement tugged at the edges of her mouth. “My mum was a bit intimidating, too.”

Rather than address the issue of intimidation, which he most certainly was not, Hel made a conversational side step. “Your mother is no longer living?”

Her eyes turned dark blue, as if a cloud had darkened her horizon. “She died when I was fourteen. Stan died a few months later.”

“Stan?”

“My dad.”

Hel frowned. “You called your father Stan?”

“And he called me Ollie.” Her face softened, memory chasing away the shadow. “It’s a bad Earth joke about some comedians. And it made him feel old to be called dad. He was quite a bit older than my mum and it bothered him. If I didn’t call him dad, he could pretend I was one of his students.”

“He was a teacher?” Hel was fascinated by this look inside her head. He had a feeling it was not typical for her to share this much of her past, or herself.

“They both were. They taught at university—that’s an advanced kind of school—and they wanted me and my brother to follow in their footsteps and become teachers.”

The shadows returned to her eyes when she mentioned her brother.

“But you didn’t. You are here. Did your brother become a teacher?” He thought she’d ignore the question when she hesitated.

“My brother,” another pause, “became ill, but I think he would have. He liked academia more than I did.”

“I am sorry.” There was more to it, but he didn’t press. His curiosity was no match for the brief flare of pain in her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her smile was tinged with sadness, but she was less healer, more real Delilah. She gave a tiny shake and held up her stethoscope. “We’ve strayed from the reason I’m here.”