Passion Awakened

by Jessica Lee

  “Business?” his wife began. “What sort of business have you two been up to? You’re retired, sweetheart.” She joined him in the center of the room, placing her fingers on his chest. “You promised me you would relax for once in your life.” Thomas gazed down at his wife, the love for the woman evident on his face.

  “This won’t take long, Beth.” He patted her hand. “Creed has some ideas he wants to discuss with me, and since I’ve spent more years than I can remember bringing new ideas to life, I told him I’d be willing to lend him some of my time and experience.”

  Beth nodded. “You always were a sucker for any chance to talk science and engineering.” She patted him once more then pulled away.

  “How about a bottle of that wine you enjoy so much?” Thomas jerked his head to Creed then Shayla, a look of hopeful cooperation in his eyes. “Would you mind running to the store and getting some for us, love? I’m sure Shayla and Creed would enjoy that with dinner.” His gaze darted back to them. “You two can stay for dinner, I hope?”

  “Sure,” Shayla popped up, answering for them both.

  “Wonderful.” Thomas’ wife beamed at the idea. She turned to her granddaughter. “Would you like to come along, dear?”

  “Oh… Umm…” Shayla shot a desperate glance at Creed.

  “If you don’t mind…” Creed interceded. “I would like Shayla to stay behind.” He sent her grandmother his best warm smile. “I value her opinion on a couple of subjects.”

  “Of course.” Beth sidled over to her grandchild and gave her a quick hug. “I’ll grab a few things from the store for dinner as well. I promised my good friend, Harriet, that I’d check in on her at the hospital today. Poor thing had her hip replaced yesterday. I think I’ll go ahead and do that while I’m out. I’ll be back in an hour or two.” She looked to her husband and Creed. “You two play nice.”

  “We will,” Thomas replied with another chuckle.

  A few tense moments later, the door closed behind Beth and Thomas wheeled around toward Creed. “When it came clear to me that my time here was going to come full circle, I gave your pendant to Shayla. What I did to you back then…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ve had a lot of years to think, and it wasn’t quite fair. So with the device in Shayla’s hands, and her being the woman I took hostage that day, I figured there would be a good chance you’d find it.” He looked to Shayla first, then back to Creed. “So what can I do for you today, enforcer? Now that you have your way home, are you here to try to take me back with you, or for some other reason?” Thomas took a step toward Creed, bringing them back to within inches of each other. “If it’s the prior, you’ll have to kill me first.”

  “No!” Shayla cried out.

  Chapter Eight

  Shayla rushed to her grandfather’s side and seized his hand. “Oh my God. What are you saying?” She sent Creed a hard look. “This is not what we’re here for. Tell him!” Shayla swung her attention back to Thomas. “No one is killing anyone.” Her granddad pulled free from her hold and wrapped his large arm around her, the sensation warm and comforting.

  “No,” Creed chimed in. “I’m not here to force your return, Thomas.”

  “Then what is it you want from me?”

  “Thanks to you…” Creed’s faced twisted with the words. “Although I’m still not quite thrilled with how you did this, taking my choice away. But…” He brushed past her grandfather, finishing this thought over his shoulder. “Because of your actions, I’m here now, and I refuse to be forced to return to our time.”

  Thomas whirled about, facing Creed’s back. “Am I to assume my granddaughter plays into this decision somehow?”

  Creed spun. “Absolutely.” His gaze darted to hers, boring straight through to her soul. Shayla’s heart swelled, each beat like a bass drum trying to pound its way from her chest. “The damage you did, Thomas,” his words were targeted at the other man, but his eyes never left her, “stopped me in my tracks. But it was Shay who showed me that what I had once considered a barbaric time was much more humane than anything I had ever known.” Creed swiveled his head back in her grandfather’s direction. “I can’t go back.” His jaw ticked. “I won’t.”

  “I see…” Thomas closed the distance between the two men. “Then it’s the locator you’re here about.” He lifted his hand and placed two fingers over Creed’s sternum.

  “It’s active,” Creed said. “And as you know very well, I don’t have much time.” His thick span of obsidian lashes lowered on the older man. “I need you to deactivate it.”

  Taking a step back, Thomas dropped his head and moved away. “I can’t help you.”

  “You bastard!” Creed spat and charged him.

  Shayla’s heart sank, and bile rose in its place. She swallowed back the bitter taste and lunged into action, placing her body between Creed and her grandfather.

  “Get out of my way, Shay,” Creed growled, his fist opening and closing at his side.

  “Let’s find out more before going straight to ripping someone’s head off, okay?” Shayla peeked over her shoulder. Thomas slowly pivoted and faced them. “Granddad…please. For me.” She wasn’t beyond pulling every string she had. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to.” He squeezed his eyes closed and his head sagged between his shoulders, followed by a long sigh. “Damn.” He faced forward and opened his eyes. “I don’t have the right stuff here to do what you’re asking.”

  She rotated toward her grandfather. “What do you need? I’ll get it. Just tell me.” Her voice rose, desperate, but she didn’t care how she sounded. Creed was more important.

  “It’s not that simple, honey.” Thomas’ voice lowered, becoming dead serious. Hazel eyes focused on her. “What I need hasn’t even been invented in this time.”

  For the second time that evening, Shayla’s heart dropped. “Oh…” The single syllable fell from her lips with a thud.

  “The locator in your chest,” Thomas said, turning his attention to Creed. “It was placed there with the aid of nanites.”

  “Nanites?” Shayla flicked her gaze between the two men. “You mean those little artificial computer bugs like on Star Trek? They really exist?”

  “They will,” her grandfather said with a look of pride. “My team and I were involved with taking the range of their abilities far beyond what many thought possible.”

  “Wow,” Shayla voiced under her breath.

  “Yeah. Bravo, Guerry. But what you’re saying is that for me, here in the twenty-first century, I’m fucked.” Creed whirled around and headed toward the glass door overlooking the waterway.

  “What I need to make sure I don’t kill you are the nanites specific for the locator deactivation. What I have—” Her grandfather’s words clipped off.

  Creed whipped around. “What do you mean what you have?” One second he stood on the far side of the room, the next, Creed was back at her side. “You have some here?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her grandfather shook his head. “They’re not programmed for what you need to have done.”

  “But if there’s a chance? Even if it’s a small one, I need to try.” Creed glanced at her, eyes dark with frustration.

  “That small chance could kill you,” Thomas barked. “Your death will not be on my hands.” He launched forward, intending to pass Creed, aiming for the other side of the condo, but Creed grabbed him by the arm, halting his progress.

  “Explain it to me.” Creed’s deep and rusty tone left no doubt it wasn’t a request. “Let me be the judge on the risk.” He met Thomas’ strained expression. “If I die, you’re off the hook.”

  “From the look on my granddaughter’s face,” Thomas assessed her, “I would say that statement is bullcrap.” He returned to Creed. “She cares a lot for you.”

  “Tell us, Granddad,” Shayla began, her voice cracking. She brushed the hair out of her eyes, her hands trembling. “What do you have? Is there a chance it would work?�
� She couldn’t believe she was even asking. Failure could mean Creed’s death. But what choice did they have?

  He rubbed a wrinkled hand across his chin. “Okay.” Thomas sighed. “My chance to warp happened fast, meaning there wasn’t a lot of time for me to pack or prepare. So the lone backpack I took with me also contained a sample of nanites I’d been working with.”

  Without another word, he turned and went into the other room. Shayla followed with Creed right behind. They stood in the master suite, the light on in the walk-in closet. A few moments later, Thomas emerged with a small aluminum canister in his hand, one that could have held a roll of film. He opened the lid and dumped the contents in his palm—a tiny glass vial.

  Shayla drifted in for a closer look. Her grandfather held it up between his thumb and forefinger. Clear fluid filled the vial about halfway. But that was it. Nothing moved or swam around in the liquid.

  “I don’t see anything,” she said.

  “You wouldn’t,” Thomas replied. “They’re microscopic.”

  She stepped back and glanced over at Creed.

  “So what do you think will happen if you use these?” Creed crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s the worst that could happen, Doc?”

  Thomas closed his hand around the sample. “They were created for medical use. To treat injuries. So if I were to use these, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t even sense the locator as a problem—a foreign body—since you’ve carried it for years, and it’s embedded in your tissues.” He moved over toward his dresser and set the vial down, his back to them. “Then there’s the chance that if they do find it, seek out and destroy it as they’re programmed to do, the particles from the demolished locator will bombard your brain, possibly killing you in the process.”

  Unbidden, a gasp burst from Shayla’s lungs. Creed’s roughened palm brushed the side of her neck, and she leaned into it. But it did little to slow the hammering of her pulse inside her head.

  “These particular nanites are programmed to heal, but the injury could occur so quickly and be so vast that there would be no way to correct the damage to your brain.”

  Thomas whirled around, a deep furrow etched into his brow. “The correct nanites would only deactivate, not destroy, the module, potentially causing multiple infarctions in your brain. It’s a huge risk, but yes, it is possible they could do the job, you’d survive unharmed, then become free to dissolve into this century.” He straightened on a deep breath. “It’s your call, Donovan.” His gaze fell to her. “Shayla.”

  She couldn’t breathe. Somehow the path to send oxygen had narrowed down to the size of a thin straw. She opened her mouth and sucked in a hard breath. Her heart raced. What kind of choice was this? God. This was so unfair. She spun around and grabbed Creed’s arms, pushing him back into the other room.

  She shook her head and met his gaze, hers pleading. “I can’t watch you die.”

  He cupped her face. “There’s a good chance I won’t,” he whispered, then leaned in, his kiss featherlight against her lips. “But I do know I will never survive being forced to leave and return to a world that doesn’t include you. One that’s numb, sterile.” He leaned back, scanning her face as if embedding every nuance to memory. “I would rather take my chances, die here with you by my side, having truly been alive for once in my life, than go back to only half a life.”

  A hot trail of tears scorched a path down her cheeks. She chewed her lip to keep from sobbing aloud. All she could do was nod. He was willing to risk death, give up the only life he’d ever known to stay with her in this time. The least she could do was suck it up and be strong. She sniffed and quickly wiped away the dampness from her face.

  “Whatever you need.” She nodded once more. “Just tell me.” Shayla brushed her lips against his once more. “Whenever you’re ready.” Creed traced the outline of her lower lip with his thumb, then lowered his hand and looked past her.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Shayla twisted her head and glanced over her shoulder at her grandfather.

  “Beth will be back before long. We have to make this fast.” He twisted and snagged the vial of nanites from the dresser. “I don’t want to have to explain a dead man in her guest room, so you’d better survive this, Donovan.”

  “I have every intention of walking out of here.”

  “Keep that positive attitude, enforcer.” Her grandfather stepped a little closer. “You’re going to need it.”

  “Nice bedside manner, Guerry,” Creed huffed.

  A smile quirked one side of the older man’s mouth. “Take him to the guest room, Shayla.” He switched his attention to her. “I’ll be right there.” Thomas disappeared back into his closet, and Shayla did as told.

  Once inside the other room, Shayla held out her hand for the clothing covering Creed’s torso. He unzipped the same black leather jacket she’d seen him in on that first day, then yanked the t-shirt beneath over his head and draped them across her outstretched arm. He sat on the side of the bed, his gaze moving everywhere around the room, seeming to land on every object except her. Shayla didn’t fare any better in the tense moment. What did one say in these kinds of situations? Break a leg? No. That was for actors.

  “I love you.” The declaration popped out of her mouth, striking the air like a hot knife through the thick cloud of apprehension surrounding them. Creed’s head jerked up. “I know it’s probably too soon. But there’s a chance if I don’t say it now, it could be too late. And you have to know what’s in my heart before you do this.”

  “Shayla,” he whispered, and she crossed the space between them and stood between his knees. “Damn, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you in my life.” He shook his head. “I’ve been such a hard-ass for so long, for too many years. But you’ve cracked that hard outer shell, and what a beautiful sight I’ve found on the other side.” Creed clasped her face between his palms and pulled her to his mouth.

  He kissed her like a man drowning, rough, searching, and she was the raft to his salvation. Shayla opened, offering him the safe haven he sought. And she would do it again and again. Creed pulled back on a breath, keeping his lips in contact with hers.

  “I love you too,” he whispered. “Nothing will ever change that.”

  Her breath hitched and she lifted her lashes. Turquoise eyes met hers, stealing her soul.

  “Okay. I have what we need,” her grandfather said, shattering the moment. Shayla stood. “Lie back,” he said, indicating Creed with a lift of his chin. Creed did as instructed.

  Thomas grabbed a straight-back chair from the wall across from the bed with one hand and pulled it over next to the mattress. Shayla watched, her palms damp, as her grandfather spilled the contents of his other hand onto the bedspread beside Creed.

  “I’m going to need to inject the contents directly into your bloodstream.”

  Creed nodded. “Do whatever you need to.”

  “What happens to the nanites once they’ve completed the process?” Shayla grasped the wrought iron rails of the bed’s low footboard. “Do they just stay in there forever swimming around in his veins?” Her grandfather looked up from his task.

  “Good question, baby girl. But no, they’re only good for about twenty-four hours once they’ve contacted a patient’s system. Then they shut down and eventually filter through the kidneys.”

  Thomas cleaned the crease inside Creed’s elbow with alcohol-soaked cotton balls, then loaded up a syringe with the liquid from the vial. His gaze shifted to Creed for a second.

  “You ready?”

  “Do it,” Creed said, then flicked his attention to the popcorn ceiling above his head.

  And Thomas did.

  Such huge consequences for something that took less than two seconds to slam into his vein, Shayla couldn’t help but surmise. So very much riding on something she couldn’t even see.

  Shayla strayed to the other side of the bed and sank onto the edge. Creed reached out and she grasped his finge
rs midway. He nodded, giving her a slight smile.

  “How long before we know if it worked?” Shayla looked up at her grandfather.

  “Pretty fast. The circulatory system moves quickly, and there were probably a couple thousand if not more nanites in that vial.”

  She squeezed Creed’s hand.

  “It’s going to work,” her Double T said. “It has to.”

  Glancing over at the clock on the bedside, Shayla blinked at the red display. Impossible. Only ten minutes had passed, but it had felt like hours since she’d last taken an easy breath. “Are you feeling okay?” She rubbed the back of Creed’s hand.

  “Yeah. So far so good.” He glanced between her and Thomas. “I think that’s a good sign.”

  “Possibly,” her grandfather said.

  Shayla let out sigh of relief, stood, and moved over to the bedroom window. The sun had fully set, and the parking lot lights were in full power, their yellow haze reflecting off the metallic roofs of the cars. The buzz of twin motorcycle engines whipping into two of the available spaces nabbed her attention. In matching black leather, the riders dismounted their machines, the bikes an eyeful of shiny chrome and polished black. Sleek. Fast. Futuristic.

  Futuristic.

  Her heart stuttered.

  “Umm…Creed?”

  “Yeah.”

  She spun on her heels, the jittery tingles of adrenaline already awakening every muscle fiber in her body. “What would an enforcer locator team look like?”

  “Why?” Creed launched from the mattress and to the window. “Fuck!” he chewed out through his teeth and whirled. Shayla headed for the door.

  “We need to—”

  Shayla twisted around, the sudden death of his sentence seizing her forward momentum. “Creed?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, her grandfather lunged to his feet. Creed stood fixed, his mouth open, arm lifted, and his gaze trained on the hard tremors racking the extremity.