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attractive? Doesn t it seem strange to you that he managed to lure you into
bed in mere days, when Dr. Prestwick tried to bed you for months and still
hasn t succeeded? She smiled. Or that prim Dr. Weist.
Dayne put down her washcloth and dried Tad off, and put the pediatric gown on
him. I don t think
Adam is any more unlikely than you.
Dr. Jezick chuckled. Clever girl. Her smile grew broader. Agonostis, who
has apparently been calling himself Adam when he s with you, is the number one
man at Satco, Lucifer s North Carolina division.
He s a fallen angel not a human, not something that ever has been human. It
was his job to lead you into Hell, and he won. He betrayed you.
Dayne sighed. And you re telling me this because you want to help me, right?
Dr. Jezick frowned. Dayne decided her response hadn t been the one Jezick had
expected.
I assume you ll want to get even after all, you certainly weren t one of the
damned before this.
Dayne repositioned Tad, rolling him to one side and placing pillows under his
upper arm and upper leg to hold him in place and keep the pressure off of his
limbs. I knew Adam was one of the Hellraised,
she told Dr. Jezick. Just as I suspected you were. I was pretty sure about
Adam before I went to bed with him; I didn t have any doubt at all after. She
smiled, remembering Adam s little anatomical omission an omission that would
have been just right had he been the original Adam, too.
Dr. Jezick blanched. You . . . knew?
I knew. I love him, and he loves me, so I didn t feel and still don t, for
that matter that God would hold our lovemaking against us. Not in any real,
significant way. I knew Adam was trying to tempt me, too; I figured that out
after the fiasco with the contract. She pulled the sheet up over Tad, and
stood there resting her hand on the little boy s arm. Adam refused to offer
me the contract a second time, and told me that I wouldn t like working for
Satco; when he did that, I knew he cared about me.
He . . . did . . .
what
? Dr. Jezick stood. He threw the contest?
Apparently. You haven t though, have you? You re here to tempt me, too.
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Mhya Jezick got out of the chair and walked to Dayne s side. She towered over
Dayne, exuding the same aura of compelling sexuality and inhuman beauty that
marked Adam. Since you know why I m here, we might as well not play games. I
can give you whatever you want. You want to be rich I can make you richer than
nations. You want to be beautiful I can make you the most stunning woman since
Helen of Troy . . . who also ended up working for us, for that matter. You
want power I can make you the President of the United States, if you want the
job . . . or the power behind the President, if you prefer that.
I don t want anything.
Of course you do. What about Agon Adam? You want him, don t you? I can give
him to you.
He isn t yours to give. Dayne pulled a roll of tape out of her pocket and
began tearing it into short, narrow strips she needed to redress both IVs.
He will be after today.
No. I won t deal with you for Adam. That is in God s hands.
Mhya Jezick glared at Dayne with eyes that glowed red and evil. Then the red
glow guttered out, and the fallen angel smiled. There is something you want,
after all, and if you sign my contract, consigning your soul to Hell at the
end of your life, I ll give it to you.
Dayne laughed. You re persistent, but I m not kidding. There is nothing you
can offer me that I d even consider.
How about the power to heal your patients?
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Dayne froze. The roll of tape dropped to the bed. Involuntarily, she glanced
down at Tad lifeless Tad, who deserved a whole life ahead of him. What if she
could speak a single word and make him better?
What if she could bring back his missing eye, restore his damaged face, return
his wandering spirit to his body what if she could, in an instant, give him
back the life that stupidity and carelessness had stolen from him?
The ghosts of the patients she d lost during her career paraded before
her mothers and fathers and grandparents, sisters, brothers, sons and
daughters; all of them important to someone . . . all of them important to
her. In the next twenty or thirty years, how many more would there be? How
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