by Nina Croft
“Too late.” Rico grinned and turned to her. “Are you aware that Callum was once engaged to Tamara Beauchamp?”
Shit, she’d forgotten all about that. But then she’d never been buddies with Tamara—couldn’t stand the bitch—and they hardly moved in the same social circles. The president was a deeply religious man, a fact Saffira had used to her advantage—but he kept that low-key, as many of his followers would not have approved. “Shows an immense lack of taste,” she said.
“Doesn’t it.” Rico looked between her and Callum. “So did your paths never cross?”
“No,” she replied. “What would have been the point?”
“And I wasn’t exactly interested in religion.” Callum shook his head. “To think you were there all that time.”
“You wouldn’t have known me anyway.”
For a moment, Callum frowned as though working it out in his head. “No, of course not. We hadn’t met then. Shit, this time travel thing screws with your mind.”
“Tell me about it,” Devlin muttered.
Saffira stretched her arms above her head, smoothing out a thousand years of kinks. When she glanced up, it was to find Devlin’s eyes on her, hot and hungry.
Yeah, that’s what she needed. A torrid sex session, and afterward, she’d get her mind on more important things. She stretched again.
“So what next?” she asked.
“Devlin and Callum are going to check out the ship. You can stay or come back to the Blood Hunter. We’ll all have a meeting once they know the state of the ship.”
She glanced at Devlin, but decided he’d be busy, and she wanted his full attention. “I’ll come back. I could do with a shower after a thousand years. I’ll just go get my stuff.”
She headed back to her cryo-unit, opening the storage area in the base and pulling her duffle bag out gently. They had been limited in what they could bring to what would fit in their individual storage units, though she suspected that Tamara had appropriated a much bigger space somewhere for all her designer gear.
She’d always kept her distance from Tamara, and not only because she disliked the woman, but also because Tamara, for all her love of the high life, possessed a keen intelligence that wasn’t hampered by her father’s very convenient beliefs in a higher power. Now, she didn’t care what the other woman believed or didn’t believe. She was irrelevant to Saffira’s plans for the future. As was her father.
She hung the duffle over her shoulder and paused to pat Devil on his little white head. “Come on,” she said, and he trotted behind her back to the small group.
Max was sitting up in his cryo tube with a dazed expression on his long, thin face, his pale gray eyes confused, his pale blond hair still perfectly in place after a thousand years. Probably slept like an innocent babe. Instead of the murdering monster he was.
His expression brightened when he caught sight of a familiar face. “Saffira, what’s happening? Have we made it? Are we safely away?”
She pursed her lips and considered ignoring him. Out of the many people she had come to dislike over her time on Earth, President Maximus Beauchamp got first place. Probably because usually, if someone annoyed her, she’d just walk away and never see them again. She was good at that. But Max had been integral to her plans, and she’d had to stick around and pretend she was a good, God-fearing person. The effort had very nearly driven her insane. Because despite his religious beliefs, he wasn’t a moral man, and some of the things he did while in power had made her blood boil.
She caught Devlin watching her again and shrugged. He’d thought she was sweet back then—hell, she had been sweet, sickly sweet, but maybe she shouldn’t disabuse him too early on in their reacquaintance. He was so beautiful with a fierce masculine beauty she’d rarely found on Earth. Just looking at him caused her body to react in ways she could barely remember.
“Saffira…?”
Max interrupted her less-than-spiritual thoughts. She’d been thinking too long and gotten sidetracked by staring at Devlin and remembering what he felt like inside her. She shook her head and frowned at Max. “Sorry, what was your question? I was thinking about something else.”
“No guessing what that was,” Rico murmured from beside her. “Is the president used to his religious adviser having sexual fantasies?”
“Piss off,” she said.
Max’s eyes widened at the swear word coming from someone who had only ever spoken words of God. Rico chuckled and Devlin’s lids drooped until he studied her through half-closed eyes, his expression hot and heavy. Her breath caught, and she couldn’t look away. Shit, she hadn’t expected this reaction. Where the hell was it coming from? But she could feel her body responding to his lazy look, a warm, heavy weight building in her belly, her nipples tightening.
“Perhaps the two of you could hold off until you’re alone,” Rico suggested. “I’m getting embarrassed here.”
At least his words broke the spell. “Sorry,” she said to Max. “I’ve totally forgotten what you asked.”
“Are we there? At the land God promised us?”
“Well…not quite.” Her lips twitched.
“Not quite?” He frowned and looked around him, the dazed expression fading slightly, to be replaced by a keen intelligence. He’d never actually been stupid, just totally misguided. And easy to manipulate because of that. “And who are these people?”
Well, at least that was an easy one. “This is Callum Meridian, who I think you already know, though perhaps not in his current manifestation as the Leader of the Known Universe.” She hurried on before Max could interrupt. “And this is Ricardo Sanchez—he’s a vampire. And this is Devlin Starke, part jaguar and leader of the Rebel Alliance and…”
What else was he?
“Your boyfriend,” Rico suggested.
“Maybe.”
The president’s dazed look was back. Poor Max, but she suspected things were only going to get worse. He seemed to grasp the one thing he did recognize. “Callum? Are we still on Earth, then?”
“Well, obviously not, if Callum is now Leader of the Universe,” she said patiently. He appeared to be totally ignoring the word vampire and the fact that Callum had wings. She glanced at Rico. He still had that amused glint in his eyes. At least he’d recovered from his bad humor—no doubt he’d been reunited with Skylar. Presumably, if Callum was with them, they’d been back to the planet. She wondered where Thorne was. She wanted to talk with him.
Callum stepped forward. “We’ll explain everything soon, Mr. President. Perhaps you can go with Saffira and freshen up and we’ll have a meeting when we know what sort of shape the Trakis One is in.”
“My daughter?” he asked.
“She’s just waking up.”
“More’s the pity,” Saffira muttered. She turned to Devlin. “Where’s Thorne?” It occurred to her that maybe Devlin had exacted some sort of revenge for knocking him out. But she doubted it.
“Back on the planet.”
“Any chance I could go see him—he’ll want to know I’m back.”
“I’m sure he will, but not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” Rico replied. “For some reason, the captain’s not too fond of the place. As soon as we’ve checked out the ship, we’re on our way. You can take a shuttle, but after that you’re on your own, and we’ll be long gone.”
She glanced at Devlin to see what he was making of this. Would he care if she left and never came back? But his face was back to deadpan and she could tell nothing from his expression.
“Or you can stay with us,” Rico continued. “I’m sure the captain will allow you to tag along, considering your part in saving mankind.”
Take the shuttle? Or stay?
Neither option fit in any way with her plans for the future.
She was just going to have to find a way to convince them otherwise.
Chapter Seventeen
Luckily, Max was too busy comforting Tamara and ensuring his little angel had come through unscathed to ask anything el
se on the journey back to the Blood Hunter. Which was just as well, as Saffira was busy going over possibilities in her mind.
Tamara had been in a worse state than her father. But even disorientated and confused, she’d managed to look as groomed and elegant as ever.
Saffira had noted with some amusement that Callum had made himself scarce as soon as he’d realized Tamara was coming around. He’d grabbed Devlin and hurried off to inspect the engine room. Saffira wished she could have gone along.
The entire journey back, she sensed Rico’s attention on her, analyzing her. No doubt trying to work out what was going through her head. She’d smiled serenely whenever she’d caught his eye, something else she’d become good at.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured.
“That God works in mysterious ways,” she replied, and he laughed.
“No need to keep up the pretense now.”
“I don’t intend to.”
She left him to sort out Max and Tamara as soon as they docked on the Blood Hunter. Both were coming around, and she really didn’t want to have to answer their questions right now. If ever.
“I’ll take my old cabin,” she said. “I presume it’s still free.”
Rico nodded but Max had looked at her sharply. “Your old cabin?”
She ignored the question and hurried away, Devil at her heels.
Her cabin hadn’t changed. Which was hardly surprising, considering she’d only been away from the Blood Hunter for four days. She was finding it hard to get her head around the time difference. For her it was the dim and distant past.
Once inside, she shut and locked the door behind her, placed her bag carefully on the bed, and sank down beside it. Devil jumped onto her lap and she stroked his head. She liked dogs, she’d discovered. Much more than she liked people. Devil was the last in a long line of pets. He looked like a poodle but he was something mixed—like herself. She’d rescued him from the pound. He was devoted to her, and she loved him fiercely with an emotion she wouldn’t allow herself to feel for one of her own kind ever again.
She wasn’t unduly worried by the state of affairs. Never having expected the crew of the Blood Hunter to blithely follow her wishes, she’d come prepared for a number of eventualities. She just had to decide which one suited her best.
After putting Devil on the bed beside her, she unpacked the bag. She’d chosen her “souvenirs from home” carefully. A change of clothes—she was so fed up with dressing as suited the Religious Adviser to the President—about time for something a little different.
Then the more…volatile items, which she placed in the cabinet beside the bed, out of sight.
Stripping off her clothes as she went, she headed for the shower. She was feeling amazingly together considering her long sleep. In fact, her body felt more alive than it had in a long time. As the warm spray pounded her skin, she imagined Devlin’s big, hard hands wandering over her. Her own fingers drifted over her tight nipples sending jolts of sensation down between her legs. Why did he still have such an effect on her? She’d really considered herself over her childish crush, but one look at him had proved that wrong.
Unfinished business, perhaps.
She stepped out of the shower and blasted herself dry, her hair curling into riotous ringlets around her head.
Maybe what she did next depended on Devlin. Would he help her? Would he go against the crew of the Blood Hunter? She knew he’d never felt part of the crew, not really. His brother had been one of them, but she suspected Devlin saw himself as just a hanger-on. Also, they had been partly responsible for the death of his brother—maybe he wouldn’t feel totally loyal to them. And it wasn’t as though she meant the crew of the Blood Hunter any harm.
Could she offer him something he wanted more? Her and his revenge on the church he hated? She’d felt a little guilt at starting the organization that had ultimately killed Devlin’s family, but the Church of Everlasting Life existed in this time, so it was obvious someone was going to do it. And it had been the key to getting close to Beauchamp.
So how to get Devlin on her side? She no longer believed that true love conquered all, but she was well aware of the power of sex. She’d used it herself and often, to stave off loneliness, to survive, to manipulate people… And she’d learned a lot in five hundred years.
Enough to convince Devlin to side with her?
She wasn’t sure. After all, she’d only known him a few days. She couldn’t guess how deep his loyalties lay. But she was going to find out, and her body tingled at the thought.
The comm unit on the bed lit up and she hurried over.
“Meeting on the bridge in five minutes.” She recognized Tannis’s voice, but the captain said no more, and the comm went off before she could answer. Probably Tannis hadn’t forgiven her for knocking her out and effectively stealing her ship. She shrugged.
Taking a deep breath, she ran a calming mantra through her mind and prepared herself for the meeting ahead. Trouble was, she’d almost drained her ability to play nice dealing with President Asshole in the years leading up to the exodus from Earth. But all she needed was a little while longer, and she could be herself. For the first time in five hundred years of hiding and running and acting, she could finally find out who she really was.
And she had every intention of living a long, long time to do that.
Eternity in fact.
…
Devlin stared at the door and waited for her to appear. He’d felt off balance since he’d found her. Off balance and horny as hell. That hadn’t changed.
But he suspected everything else had.
He hadn’t given much thought to how the time would have altered her. At first, because he’d considered he would never see her again. Then later, because it was too fantastical. How could she have spent five hundred years in what was only four days to them? Well, actually fifteen hundred years, but a thousand of them she’d been asleep. It was incomprehensible.
Of course, she would have changed. He considered what he’d been like at twenty-one compared to now. He’d been idealistic, hotheaded, eager for a fight, and had still considered there might be a future for someone like him. All that was gone.
Except maybe there could be a future.
Was he a fool to even consider it?
And where the hell was she?
He was tensed, ready to leap to his feet and go hunt her down when she appeared in the doorway, and he relaxed back into his seat.
Beside him, Rico gave a low whistle. “Shit, but she is hot,” he said. “Your little girl grew up.” Skylar elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed. “Just pointing it out to Devlin.”
“Somehow, I don’t think he needs it pointed out,” Skylar replied. “Close your mouth, Devlin. It doesn’t look cool.”
Devlin snapped his mouth shut but couldn’t tear his gaze from the woman in the doorway.
“Hot” didn’t cover it. She wore skintight black leather pants, knee-high heeled boots, and a black vest with nothing underneath. A fact that was clear from the nipples pressing against the thin material. Her hair was pulled into a mass of dark red curls on top of her head. Her eyes were dark smudged rings, enormous in her pointed face, and her lips were colored a delectable shade of red.
He didn’t like it. Well, his brain didn’t like it—which was probably because that particular organ was being drained of blood while it all rushed to his dick.
She hovered in the doorway, searching the room. When she found him, a slow smile curved her lips and she headed his way, her hips swaying so he couldn’t take his eyes off the tight black leather.
“Ever been stalked by a wild animal?” Rico murmured in his ear. “I’m guessing it feels just like you do now. Be afraid. Be very afraid. She wants something, and I’m guessing it’s a little more complicated than your undying devotion.”
Devlin thought so as well, or he would have if he’d been capable of thinking.
She came to a halt in front of him and he looked up
the line of her body, the slender waist, the swell of her breasts, the hard little nipples. She gazed down at him and licked her lips. Her tongue was pink and pointed and, as she licked, she stared at his groin.
His hands tightened on the arms of his seat, and he fought the urge to cross his legs and hide his growing erection. That would no doubt cause no end of amusement.
She didn’t say a word but, thankfully, she moved to take the seat next to him on the opposite side to Rico and Skylar. With her out of his vision, he released his breath and sat up straighter. He gave himself thirty seconds to get under control and then he turned to face her.
“You look different,” he said.
“Do you like? I brought the clothes for you. To show you I was all grown up.”
“That will happen in five hundred years.”
“Hmmm. I’ve learned a lot.”
“You have?”
“About a lot of things. Including men.” She leaned in close. “Do you want to know what I’ve found out?”
Shit, she was flirting with him. She hadn’t flirted on the Trakis One, why had she decided to now? And why, when he knew she was doing it on purpose, was he incapable of being impervious?
He had an overwhelming urge to leap up, toss her over his shoulder, and go fuck her mindless until every other man she had set eyes on in five hundred years was erased from her memory.
Luckily, before he made a complete idiot of himself, a couple appeared in the doorway, providing a much-needed distraction. The man was tall, thin, ascetic looking, and dressed in a black suit, not like anything Devlin had ever seen. The woman at his side was also tall and reed slim, her long blond hair loose around her shoulders, her pale face beautiful.
A snort of disgust came from beside him and he glanced at Saffira. Her face was screwed into an expression of distaste. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged.
“I’ve had to do some pretty difficult things in the last five hundred years but having to pretend I admire Max Beauchamp was one of the hardest.”
He wondered again what she had gone through. What were those difficult things she spoke of, and how had they changed her? Once this meeting was over, he intended to get to the bottom of that.
