Temporal Shift (Entangled Select Otherworld)

by Nina Croft

  When Rico was in killing mode, there wasn’t a lot you could do, certainly not talk sense. He’d heard stories about it, mainly from Daisy, who hero-worshipped the bloodsucker for some reason.

  With a start of shock, he realized that for the first time in as long as he could remember, he’d put something, or rather someone, over his revenge.

  “Sit down,” she said to Rico. “And take us away from the planet. Now. Or I blast your friend’s head off.”

  “You haven’t got the balls.”

  Rico was wrong. Devlin could see that. Would the vampire let Daisy die? He’d thought Rico was fond of her. “She’ll do it,” he said.

  Rico cast him a glance and snarled. “You think?”

  “She believes.”

  Rico studied her for an endless minute while Saffira kept the pistol leveled on Daisy. Finally he gave a sharp nod, whirled around, and stalked back to his seat. His movements were jerky as he punched the console in front of him, and they were moving. Devlin steadied himself as the ship accelerated fast, heading away from the planet.

  Saffira lowered the gun but held it at her side while she kept her focus on Rico as if she knew Devlin wasn’t a threat.

  “You could have taken the little bitch,” Rico growled. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t.”

  “Yeah, I could have disarmed her.”

  Saffira frowned. “You could?”

  Devlin ignored the question. He didn’t want to admit it to her—she’d get more of those weird ideas, like he cared for her—or god forbid—loved her or some such crap. Instead, he spoke to Rico. “And then what?”

  “Then we could have used them in exchange for our people.”

  “It would have never worked. But it doesn’t matter, because I didn’t, so just fucking live with it.” He wanted to add asshole, but it was probably best not to rile the vampire any more than he already was. Rico was worried about Skylar—that’s what happened when you cared for someone—you lost the ability to make rational decisions.

  “You still think you’re going to get laid?” Rico said. “I hope it will be worth it.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Devlin sank into his chair and stared at the screens, conscious of the girl watching him, a puzzled frown on her face.

  “You could have disarmed me?”

  “Don’t read anything into it,” he muttered. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision and probably the wrong one.”

  “No, it wasn’t. My friends would never have exchanged me for your people. This is what I’m meant to do. If I don’t do this, I have no value. If you’d taken us and tried to bargain, they would have killed your friends.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do, because that’s what I ordered them to do.”

  Yes, she was totally committed, totally dedicated to her cause. With a single-mindedness that maybe even surpassed his own.

  He’d been fourteen when his life had changed. Before that, he’d had a pretty normal childhood with parents who loved him. And he’d had Tris to care about—at least up until recently. She’d had to live with this all her life—not that that was very long. She was only twenty-one. Taken from her parents and brought up believing you had only one purpose in life and no use past that purpose. He thought back to his conversation with Rico. If a person dedicated their whole life to one thing, what came afterward?

  Would she live to find out?

  Or was this really a suicide mission?

  Would they find her wormhole and be swallowed by it, never to be seen again?

  He had no intention of that happening. His revenge might be delayed, but delayed was all it was. He was coming back from this trip whatever the cost.

  Saffira dropped to her knees beside Thorne, who was stirring as the distance from the planet increased.

  “Thorne?” She rested her free hand on his arm and squeezed. His eyes blinked open and he became instantly awake. He looked around the room and back to Saffira, his gaze dropping to the gun in her hand. “Trouble?”

  She grinned. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Devlin heard the relief in her voice. Leaning across, she hugged Thorne. “But I’m glad you’re back.”

  As she shoved the pistol into the holster, Devlin decided maybe he should give her some lessons. That way there was less chance of her shooting someone by accident.

  She looked up and caught him watching her, and a knowing smile curved her lips. Her gaze drifted over him, her expression suggesting she liked what she saw. Looked like she was already getting those weird thoughts. Well, she was wrong.

  They weren’t some sort of fated lovers.

  They were nothing.

  And he was keeping his distance.

  …

  Except for Thorne, who was still nursing a headache from his run-in with the Old Ones yesterday, she hadn’t seen anyone all day. Or at least not for more than the five seconds it took for them to get up and leave any room she entered. They didn’t like her. She got that and understood why. But it still hurt.

  She hadn’t even seen Devlin for five seconds. He’d been holed up in the engine room doing something technical. Or maybe just hiding from her. Because he didn’t like her. She’d actually gone so far as to try the door—it had been locked. And there had been no response when she’d banged on the metal.

  She did have a valid excuse. She needed him to help her get the information about the ship together to hand over to the people on Earth, so they’d be able to build their own ships and escape before the planet was destroyed. And they’d also need details of how a cryo system worked. And she wanted it all on hard copy in case their systems weren’t compatible, and she had no idea how to do that. On Espera they’d had paper, but she hadn’t seen a piece of paper on the ship anywhere. Presumably it wasn’t needed. She hoped Devlin would have an alternative to offer her. If he ever came out of his engine room.

  Tomorrow, she would have to start studying the star formations, but they weren’t yet far enough from Espera, which was good because the bridge wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be right now. Rico’s hatred was an almost tangible thing. Daisy no better. So Saffira had spent the day—when she wasn’t pointlessly banging on the engine room door—wandering the ship feeling sorry for herself until hunger finally drove her to the galley.

  She walked in the door, then almost turned around again. Daisy was seated at the table, and Saffira didn’t think she was up to any more tangible evidence of how much Daisy despised her right now. But Daisy stood up as she entered, casting Saffira a dark look as she shoved past her and out of the room. She hesitated at the door and turned back with a glare. “You ever point a pistol at me again, you’d better be prepared to use it and fast.”

  When she was gone, Saffira sank down into one of the chairs, her legs trembling. Daisy had only ever showed her kindness and she’d threatened to kill her. Would have killed her if that’s what it would have taken to get Rico to comply. No wonder the other woman couldn’t bear being anywhere near her. Why Devlin couldn’t bear her either. She was a horrible person. She sniffed and a tear rolled down her face, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She never cried.

  Ice cream would probably help. She shuffled across to the food dispenser and studied it for a few minutes. She had no clue how the damn thing worked. She tried to copy what Devlin had done and something came out, but it wasn’t ice cream, and it smelled disgusting. She hated waste, so she dipped her spoon in, but it tasted disgusting as well and she hurled the bowl into the recycling unit. She was useless. She couldn’t even feed herself. And everyone hated her. So no one else would feed her either. And she’d starve and…

  It was too much, and she dropped into the nearest chair and cried. A lot. Until she ran out of tears. Then she rested her face on the cool metal of the table. In a minute she’d give herself a pep talk, but right now—

  “You know, no one is going to believe you’re a big, bad rebel leader if they catch you blubbering.”

  She
jumped and sat up straight, swiping her hand across her face. Though she suspected it would take more than that to hide the evidence. Devlin lounged in the open doorway, one shoulder against the wall, arms folded across his chest. How long had he been watching her sniveling?

  But he was right. What sort of rebel leader cried?

  He straightened and strolled into the room, halting across from her with the table between them. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She sniffed then waved a hand at the food dispenser. “I wanted ice cream, and I can’t get the stupid machine to work.”

  He watched her warily as he crossed the room, as though she might explode. Or start to cry again. At the machine, he pressed a few buttons and a minute later handed her a bowl of ice cream, holding it at arm’s length as though she might bite. She reckoned Devlin wasn’t into women who cried. But then he hated her anyway so what did it matter? She sniffed again, but took the ice cream and started eating. Devlin said nothing until she was scraping her spoon across the bottom of the bowl.

  “More?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Same flavor?”

  “There are different flavors?” That perked her up a little. Maybe the world wasn’t such a terrible place after all. She pushed back her chair, got up, and went to stand beside him, peering at the machine. “Show me how it works.”

  He shifted away a little, putting space between them, but at least he hadn’t left the room. “You just press the number of the food you want.”

  She frowned. “But how do I know the number?”

  “You can bring up a menu by touching the screen. Then flick through it.” He swiped his finger across the screen and a list came up. He tapped on ice cream and a second list came up. “There you go.”

  A little while later, she had thirteen bowls lined up on the table. Maybe she wasn’t going to starve after all. She’d tried each one as it came from the machine and placed them in order of her favorites. She stared at them. Perhaps she shouldn’t have gotten so many, but she hadn’t been able to stop.

  “I hate waste,” she said. “You’ll have to eat some. Start at that end.”

  He quirked a brow, but sat down opposite her and picked up a spoon. They ate the first bowl in silence. Saffira flicked him a sideways glance as she picked up the second. He was staring straight ahead, but at least the hatred had gone from his eyes. They were beautiful eyes. She sighed. She was betting her own were all bloodshot and puffy right now. “I bet you never cry, do you?”

  For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to answer, then he shrugged. “I cried when I heard Tris was dead.”

  She searched his face. Was he just trying to make her feel better? But why would he do that?

  “But,” he continued, “I made damn sure there was no one around to see me.” He turned his head slightly, his gaze wandering over her face. “So why the waterworks? You’ve got everything you wanted. Why aren’t you all smug and happy?”

  “I told you—I couldn’t get the machine to work.”

  He raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “Okay, I couldn’t get the machine to work and I decided I was going to starve because everyone hates me and no one would feed me and…”

  He chuckled and the sound brought her up short. She’d never heard him laugh before. “It’s not funny.”

  “Of course not. What else?”

  “Daisy was here and she told me if I pointed a pistol at her again I’d better be ready to use it. And the horrible thing is I would have shot her, and so I hate myself. Except she’s right and I don’t know how to use it—so I’m not only horrible, I’m useless.”

  “Any more?”

  “I needed to talk to you and you locked the door and wouldn’t answer.”

  “I was working on something.”

  She concentrated on her food. “Of course you were. You don’t have to lie—you hate me as well.”

  “Maybe.”

  She peeked at him over her empty bowl. Replaced it with a full one. At least “maybe” wasn’t a definite. He actually appeared quite relaxed, leaning back in the chair, long legs stretched out, eating ice cream. She could watch Devlin eat ice cream forever. His mouth. His tongue. She swallowed, licked her lips, pressed her thighs together.

  “So what did you need to talk to me about?” he asked. “You going to try and persuade me about this love crap again?”

  She shook her head. “No. Well, maybe, but that’s not why. I need all the information you can give me on how the ship works and some other stuff as well. How to build cryo tubes and anything else that might be useful.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “And I need hard copies.”

  “No problem.”

  He sounded almost affable, mellowed by the soothing effect of ice cream perhaps. Maybe she should take the opportunity to try and persuade him about the love crap. She opened her mouth, then closed it as Thorne appeared in the doorway, his glance flicking between the two of them, his wing tips twitching.

  Damn.

  He studied her for a moment, searching her face, obviously taking in the results of her crying binge. His eyes darkened and he turned to Devlin. “What did you do to her?”

  “Me? Nothing. Except feed her.”

  Thorne’s gaze roamed the table, with its full and empty bowls.

  “Have some ice cream,” she said, handing him a bowl of something pink.

  He took a dubious mouthful. “That’s good.” Then turned back to Devlin. “I came to tell you—your friends have woken.”

  “That should cheer everyone up.”

  “Rico is talking with his woman now. Hopefully, it will improve his disposition.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Devlin said, pushing back his chair. “I’ll get started pulling that information.”

  She didn’t want him to go. “Can I help?” She got to her feet, taking a last mouthful of ice cream.

  Devlin’s gaze fixed on her mouth. His nostrils flared, then his jaw tightened. “No.”

  It looked like dark and moody Devlin was back. As he stepped out of the room she called after him. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

  “Don’t think it makes us friends.”

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Erotic fantasies involving ice cream had been haunting him since he’d left her last night.

  He’d had to go. If he’d watched her lick that spoon one more time he would have spontaneously exploded in his pants. He hadn’t felt this horny since he was a kid. He’d even wanked off in the shower that morning, but it had done nothing to dispel his lecherous thoughts.

  He’d kept his distance during the morning—locked himself in his engine room again. But her words had niggled at his mind—the ones about not being able to shoot a laser pistol. After all, there was nothing more dangerous than a weapon in the hands of someone who had no clue how to use it. Somehow, he’d convinced himself that he had a moral obligation to teach her. While he was aware there was something wrong with his argument, he hadn’t delved too deeply.

  Which was why he was standing with his arms wrapped around her waist and her body plastered against his. She wasn’t moving, though she must be aware of his erection. Harder than any laser pistol, it was pressed up against the swell of her ass.

  “Tell me what to do,” she said, her voice breathy.

  He wished he could, really he did. He’d love to tell her exactly what to do and it wouldn’t involve shooting laser pistols. No, it would involve them getting naked and hot and sweaty. It might even involve ice cream.

  “Devlin?”

  He shook himself. Stick to the matter at hand. He’d been demonstrating the best position for shooting a laser pistol, now he eased back slightly.

  “The switch on the side changes from stun to kill mode. Right now it’s on stun. I suggest you keep it that way, but practice changing it.” He slid his hand over hers holding the pistol, positioning her finger on the switch, and pushed it down an
d then back again. Her hands were small, the bones delicate, the skin soft. He rubbed his thumb over the back, then stopped when he realized what he was doing. Releasing her hand, he stepped back.

  They were in the docking bay, where there was plenty of room, and he reckoned she couldn’t do too much damage. And he’d brought along a hologram target. Now he flicked it on and the image of a dark-robed priest appeared halfway across the room.

  “Raise your arm so the pistol is level, aim the little red light on what you want to shoot, and press the trigger.”

  The red light swung around the opposite wall, but finally she got it fixed on the target. She pressed the trigger, and the target lit up. “I hit it,” she said, beaming.

  “It’s actually almost impossible to miss.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “Go again, get the feel of it.”

  He stood back as she practiced, hitting the target each time—she was a natural.

  “That’s enough,” he said, once he was sure she wouldn’t shoot anything or anyone by accident. “There are some simulators to help you practice. I’ll ask Daisy to pull them out for you.”

  Her brows drew together. “Won’t they be angry that you’re helping the enemy?”

  “No. We had a meeting last night.” Thorne had been right. Rico’s mood had changed once he had talked to Skylar. He still wouldn’t describe the vampire as happy, but they’d all agreed to see this through. He suspected that Rico was intrigued by the whole idea of time travel even if he wasn’t admitting it. “We won’t get in your way.”

  The little line between her eyes smoothed out and she smiled. “Thank you. And for the lesson.”

  He shrugged. “Just making sure you don’t shoot me by accident.” And now that was done, he should be out of there. But instead, he leaned against the wall and watched her. She was flicking the laser pistol from stun to kill, a frown of concentration on her face.

  Finally, she shoved it back into the holster. “I’ll try not to. I’d hate to shoot you…by accident.” She flashed him a grin. “Did someone teach you?”