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walked up to them, murmuring “excuse me”, as she brushed past. No reaction from Jed.
    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