Temporal Shift (Entangled Select Otherworld) (4 page)

“Thanks,” Devlin muttered.

“I’m going to check on something as well,” Tannis said. “I’m just not sure what yet, but I will need Callum.” Callum followed her out and his hand slipped into hers as he reached her.

“Fucking nauseating,” Devlin muttered not quite under his breath.

They paused in the doorway and Tannis turned back. “We’ll meet up again in a couple of hours when we’ve all had time to absorb this and decide on our next move.”

“Are you sure that’s not a mistake?” Devlin asked. “I think we should get out of here now.”

“Yes, but you have a one-track mind. And I’m captain.”

“You promised me Hatcher.”

“And you’ll get him. Soon enough. Now, perhaps you could keep an eye on our guests and make sure they have everything they need.”

And make sure they didn’t get up to no good, Saffira suspected.

“Fucking goddamn babysitter now.”

Tannis just grinned and disappeared with Callum in tow.

That left her, Thorne, and Devlin. The latter was lounging low in his seat, long, booted legs stretched out in front of him, his expression surly. He caught her stare and raised an eyebrow. She ignored it and turned to Thorne.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I just need some time to get used to the idea.”

She patted his arm. “I’ll leave you alone for a while.”

His eyes sharpened. “And where will you be going?”

“I’m going to explore, and perhaps Mr. Starke could offer me some food. After all, we did save his life. And I’m sure Mr. Starke is a man who always pays his debts.”

“You’d do well to remember that,” Devlin said. “The others may trust you. I don’t. You double-cross us—get in my way…”

“And you’ll blow me to tiny pieces?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll try not to. At least not today.”

She stood up and stretched, caught him watching her, a hungry look in his eyes. So he wasn’t completely unaffected.

“Saffira?” Thorne said, and she stepped closer. “Be careful. He’s not a good man.”

She cast a glance over her shoulder. No, he didn’t look like a good man, bloodstained clothing, scar, and one hand resting on the pistol at his waist. But she knew there was more to him than that.

There had to be more.

Even to herself, she was starting to sound desperate.

“I’m going for a walk,” Thorne said. “I take it that’s okay?”

Devlin nodded. “If you’re not supposed to be somewhere the doors won’t open.”

Thorne nodded. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t touch a hair on her head.”

After Thorne left, Saffira sat for a moment, rubbing her hands up her arms. She felt strange, as though she hovered on the edge of a waking vision. Devlin rose to his feet; he was so tall, towering over her, but she should be used to that. And broad at the shoulders, the material of his shirt stretched tight so she could see the ripple of muscles underneath. Lean at the hips, with long legs.

“You seen enough?” Devlin murmured.

Not nearly enough.

She shook her head and a laugh escaped him. “I’ve always liked women who know what they want but…”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “But?”

His gaze ran down over her. “I think you might be a little too young for me.”

“I’m twenty-one standard Earth years.”

“Really? That old?”

“It’s old enough.”

Chapter Four

It had just been too long. He was horny, and she was obviously available…

That was why his dick was hard in his pants.

But available or not, Devlin had no intention of lowering his guard until he knew what they were up to and that they wouldn’t stand in his way.

Exhaustion tugged at his mind—he hadn’t slept well since he’d heard about Tris— and his stomach rumbled. “Let’s go get that food.”

Maybe if he fed one appetite the other might fade away.

He led her out of the conference room and into a transporter bubble that took them directly to the galley. As they floated up to the next level, her eyes widened. He couldn’t blame her. Shit, he loved this ship.

The galley was white and silver, built on the same scale as the rest of the ship, with a long silver table down the middle and a bank of dispensers along one wall. He waved a hand at the table and waited until she sank down into one of the chairs. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you really have no technology down on the planet?”

“None.”

“So what do you eat?”

She shrugged. “Whatever we can grow. We harvest it and cook it and…”

“I think I prefer this method.” He crossed to the dispensers, considered them for a second before pressing a few buttons. This ship could produce anything, but then Callum had designed it, and after four hundred years ruling the universe, he was used to the best. Devlin wasn’t complaining. Well, not about the menu anyway.

“Chicken stew,” he said placing a bowl and spoon in front of her.

“Chicken? As in animal?” She sounded shocked. “You eat animals?”

“Well, a bird actually, though I doubt very much that it ever went near a real chicken. It’s probably synthetic.”

“Probably?” She pushed the bowl away and edged back as though the nonexistent chicken might leap out and bite her.

He took the bowl, returned to the dispensers, and considered the options. There was something there he’d never tried before. Bloody Callum. Who needed ice cream on a spaceship? He pressed the buttons and watched as a creamy mound formed in the bowl. He couldn’t resist dunking his spoon in to taste. It was cold and rich and sweet. He handed it to her.

“No meat?” she asked, eying it dubiously.

“None.”

He sat opposite her, pulling the stew in front of him, then paused to watch as she tentatively dipped her spoon in and poked her pointy pink tongue into the cold cream.

He swallowed. Heat coiled low in his belly as he imagined that tongue licking something else. Maybe stroking along the length of his cock, swirling around the tip, caressing his balls…

“It’s delicious,” she murmured. Her gaze lifted from the food and caught his. She licked some cream from her lips. Why did he have the idea she could see into his mind? See what he was thinking. Know that under the cover of the table, his dick was once again red hot and rock hard. Maybe he should get a bowl of that ice cream. Cool himself off, dip into it and afterward, maybe she could…

“So eat it and let me eat mine.”

He started shoveling the food into his mouth. It was good but he hardly tasted it. Maybe he should just screw her like she obviously wanted him to. The problem was, he reckoned she wanted more than just sex. She wanted
him
and the fact was—he wasn’t worth having. He was a curse to anyone who loved him. His parents, his brother… His chest ached at the thought of Tris, which just hardened his resolve. There was no one left and it was better that way.

“Are you really the leader of the Rebel Coalition?” she asked.

Her words dragged him from his less-than-happy thoughts. What could she know about their world if they’d been stuck here ten thousand years? Maybe this was a way to trip her up in her story. “How do you know about the rebels?”

“Thorne gave me history classes about the old world. He said it would be important if—when—we got back.”

He finished his food and pushed the bowl away. “And what did he tell you about the Coalition?”

“That you believed violence to be the answer to everything and that you killed anyone who stood in your way. You hated the Church and had no beliefs except revenge. That you’d killed many innocent people in that search for revenge.”

Actually it was more than revenge—the Church was evil and the purge on GMs needed to be stopped. But he wasn’t about to try to justify himself. “That about covers it.”

“And you were their leader?”

“Yeah.” Still was, he supposed. If he ever got back and if there was anyone left to lead. He hoped his people had escaped, but he’d heard nothing since the attack on the Church’s headquarters.

She smiled, scraped out the bowl, licked the spoon, and put it down almost reluctantly. “Then we have much in common.”

He stared across at her, not trying to hide his skepticism. She was tiny and so earnest, brimming with life and, if he was honest, so good. It shone from her. Whatever they were up to, whatever lies she and this Thorne guy were embroiled in, he was sure she wasn’t aware of them. Just an unwitting dupe with a faith in people he couldn’t remember ever having, even before his parents were slaughtered in front of his eyes. Beside her, he felt old, and jaded, and very tired of everything. He wanted it to be over.

No, as far as he could see, they had absolutely nothing in common. “We have?” he asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

She nodded, her wide mouth curved into a smile. She had a nice mouth, the upper lip arched like a bow, the lower full. He had an image of that mouth wrapped around his dick—he wondered whether she had ever seen that in a vision.

“I’m a rebel leader as well,” she said.

His own lips twitched. “You are.”

“Uh huh.”

“And how did that happen?” After joining the rebel forces when he was fourteen, he’d dragged himself up by sheer bloody nature, by demonstrating his dedication, and by fighting anyone who stood in his way. He’d taken control when he was twenty-one and no one had questioned that since. He couldn’t imagine this girl fighting anyone.

“It’s sort of hereditary, but there’s more than that. I’m a time-mancer.”

She’d mentioned the word before. “And that means…?”

She rested her hands on her lap. “It’s thought long ago that the Old Ones—”

“Old Ones?”

“It’s what we call the ones who were here when we arrived. Anyway, it’s believed that the Old Ones were time-mancers and could manipulate time. They could travel to other times as we travel to other places. But something went wrong. They almost destroyed the world—”

“How?”

“I don’t know. In fact, we know very little—only what we’ve been able to work out for ourselves. And what Thorne has been able to learn as he grows in strength and communicates with the Old Ones.”

“He talks to them?”

“No, not really. He sometimes hears their thoughts. But the first protocol states that time must not be interfered with. It’s their most important rule. And this whole universe is riddled with wormholes. So we guessed that, long ago, they traveled along them. But something went wrong, some paradox of time, and it was banned.”

The thing was, she sounded as though she believed what she was saying, crazy as it was. “So how does that affect you? You’re not ‘Other’.” At least he thought she wasn’t though she had that violet hue to her eyes and her skin…

“By the time the
Espera
arrived here, the numbers of the Old Ones were severely depleted. They took most of the males from the colony ship and changed them. Only the weak were left. They promised us help and them immortality. Thorne had no choice.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

“Shut up. Thorne is the best person ever.”

So why didn’t she shag Thorne? Bloody paragon. “Could you get to the point of this long and rambling story?”

She glared at him and then pursed her lips. “It’s not a story, it’s the truth. For many years, the newly changed still lived among us. They mated with the women—they had to or we would have died out—and besides, most of them had families. Thorne had a wife and they went on to have many children. I think he’s my great, great…something or other.”

“And the children were immortal?”

“No, but they were long-lived. We live around a thousand years. And they passed on other things—the eyes…” She blinked at him from those huge purple eyes like his mother’s pansies. “We’re not telepathic—”

“Thank Christ.”

“—but many of us are sensitive to mood…to feelings.”

“And are you? Can you tell what I’m feeling?”

She closed her eyes and he winced, as if he could feel her tapping at the doors of his mind. When her lashes flicked open, he searched her face, almost scared of what he might see.

“No,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes on hers. “Liar.”

She gnawed on her full lower lip and shrugged. “Rage. I feel rage. And grief and loss.”

Shit. Looked like she was telling the truth, then. That was a pretty accurate assessment of what was going on in his head.

She held his gaze and a faint wash of violet colored her skin. “And lust. You want me. And you can have me. I’ve been yours since I turned sixteen and first dreamed of you.”

Devlin ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the way his dick responded to her words. He pressed his scalp as he studied her. Did she really believe this crap? Or was it some sort of devious plot to get him to lower his guard and…? And what? He really couldn’t begin to guess what she could be after. Unless it was just a good shag. In which case, she didn’t need to make up this bollocks to get that. All she had to do was ask.

“And you’re sure of this—this dream stuff? Like 100 percent sure?”

For the first time, she appeared uncertain, her nose wrinkling as she considered her answer. “Maybe not
100 percent
sure.”

Was that a little stab of disappointment? He raised a brow and she continued, “We don’t understand how the future works. We believe the past is set—at least in this dimension—and what we see is truth. Though maybe there are other parallel dimensions where a different past runs along beside our own. But the present is changing and the future…well, that’s not set and maybe I’m just seeing one possible future or maybe one of those other parallel dimensions.”

He shook his head—it was enough to make his brain explode. Maybe it was time to get back to the story. “So what you are saying is some of your people inherited this time thing from the Old Ones via the Others?”

“Yes.”

“And so there are a whole load of you who see the future.”

“Not many, but a few, and we mainly see the past.”

He didn’t see the point in that. Just read the comm flows, though he doubted they existed in this place. “So this rebel group, just what is it you’re rebelling about? Things seem pretty cushy here. You wanted a planet of your own, this might not be it, but it’s a planet.”

She cast him a look of disbelief, pushed her chair back, and jumped to her feet. After pacing the length of the room, she came back to stand in front of him. “Thorne had this dream of living in freedom and my people still want that dream. They want to govern themselves, devise their own laws. Instead, our lives are controlled by the Old Ones and they hate change, hate technology, hate anything that violates their stupid protocols.” She scowled. “We want to go home, to our Promised Land.”

“So what’s with this Thorne guy? Shouldn’t he be on the other side?”

“He was the first they changed and he’s the strongest. He believed there was no hope of returning. His ship, the
Espera
, vanished—they presumed swept back into the wormhole. There was no option other than to make the best of things and keep his people alive.”

“And what changed his mind?”

“Two thousand years ago a time-mancer had a vision and a prophecy was made. One would come who would change the past, the present, and the future—”

“I thought the past was set.”

She ignored his comment. “We’re forbidden to speak of it and most didn’t believe. Then five hundred years ago, a huge ship appeared in the sky.”

“The
Trakis One
.”

“We didn’t know its name, but we knew it was part of the prophecy, as was Thorne. We approached him and he became one of us because we showed him a chance to fulfill his quest and take us to the Promised Land. And after that, we waited for the one to be born who would fulfill the prophecy.”

“And that’s you?”

She nodded and her eyes gleamed with fire. Even if it was crap, she believed it.

“How long have you lived with this?”

“All my life. I was brought up believing I would fulfill the prophecy.”

Jesus, all her life. No wonder she was weird—this stuff was enough to warp anyone’s mind. If you let it. He didn’t intend to. Getting involved in this was not worth a quick shag. He stood up. “Well, here’s the problem. I don’t believe in fate, or prophecies, or any of that bullshit. I think we make our own fate. You’re wasting your life on this crap. But to be honest—it doesn’t matter. I have plans and they don’t involve getting drawn into anyone else’s rebellions. I have a perfectly good one of my own.” He glanced down and plucked at his bloodstained T-shirt. “Now I’m going to get cleaned up. You can wait here or go find your friend. I don’t give a fuck.”

Was that hurt in her eyes? And was that tightness in his chest guilt? It made him twitch. Why the hell should he feel guilty? She was probably just playacting.

“Can I come with you?”

Her words stopped him. “Now why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t want to be alone. This is all so strange to me. And I’m scared of the crew. The dark man…” She shuddered visibly.

Well, at least she showed a modicum of good sense.

She took a step toward him. “I feel safe with you. As if I know you.”

“Honey, if you knew me, you would not feel safe.”

“Please.”

For the first time, she appeared unsure. He gritted his teeth but was unable to give her an outright negative. Instead, he whirled around and stalked to the transporter bubble. “Did I mention the bit where I don’t give a fuck?”

…

The strands of the prophecy were coming together.