“You
think I’m going to allow you to fob me off with some kind of glorified
nursemaid, you’d better think again.”
“Nursemaid!”
The
explosion when it came ripped the air as cleanly as the knife he’d thrown at
the wall. “Nursemaid,” he repeated in a voice colder than an arctic wind, and
watched in fascination as she stood up straight, flexed her shoulders, crossed
the room and snatched a couple of foils of the wall and threw one at him.
Sunlight
glinted on the blade in her hand and the deep red hair, almost auburn, he
thought, and wondered why it reminded him of a halo. If she was an angel she’d come straight from
the fires of Hell.
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