Jordan (3 page)

When she squeezed her thighs, he groaned and pumped into her hard, deep, and fast. With cold steel at her back, his warm male
flesh sliding over her and his sex thrusting in and out, she couldn’t get enough friction, couldn’t draw in enough air, couldn’t
think past the mind-jarring explosion.

Powerful sensations, inexplicable pleasure swept her into a vortex of energy that took him over the edge with her. The pleasure
was too extreme. No way could she hang on to consciousness.

Never will those who wage war tire of deception.

—
T
HE
A
RT OF
W
AR

J
ordan opened his eyes to find himself floating in the engine compartment. Weightless.

Earlier, when Vivianne had accused him of lying about his past, he’d read the heightened suspicions in her eyes. He didn’t
blame her. How could he when he didn’t have the credentials? Nor could he deny that the Staff was an alien object. He understood
she thought he was an enemy mole. But he couldn’t risk her shutting down the project.

Nor could he risk his mission. So when he’d attached the Staff to the ship’s engines, he’d set a timer to launch the ship.

And the
Draco
was now in space.

Before Jordan could check the engines’ power, a memory slammed him. Not a recent memory. Not
his
memory.

“Vivianne, honey, come on down, and don’t forget your party hat.”

“I’m coming, Daddy.”

Vivianne placed the silver hat on her head and tugged the rubber band under her chin. With a giggle, she picked up her mom’s
present and hurried to the kitchen, her mouth watering at the aroma of chocolate cake.

Dad was dancing Mom around the kitchen, singing “Happy Birthday.”

Mom was laughing, her hair all messy, her eyes happy. She twirled over to Vivianne and took her hand, and the three of them
kept dancing around the kitchen until the oven timer went off.

Mom took the cake from the oven while Vivianne watched with impatience. As she held her mother’s present behind her back,
she’d never felt so grown-up. She was seven years old and couldn’t wait to share the secret surprise.

Finally, Mom turned from the counter. Vivianne took her hand from behind her back and held up her present. “Happy birthday,
Mom.”

“Oh, sweetie. You made me a present?”

“All by myself.” Vivianne had carefully made the card. Then she’d colored a picture and used it for wrapping paper.

Her parents looked at each other over her head. Her mother had questions in her eyes. Her father shook his head. “I know nothing.”

“Come on. Open it, Mom.” Vivianne couldn’t wait to see her expression.

“All right. This is going to be the best birthday ever.” First, Mom opened the card. And as she read, “Happy birthday, I love
you very, very, very much. Love Vivianne,” tears filled her eyes. Mom’s fingers shook as she took care not to tear Vivianne’s
wrapping, a picture of red roses.

Vivianne picked up the box and placed it back into her mother’s hands. “Open it, already.”

Her father chuckled. Her mom lifted the lid and gasped at the sight of two shiny silver chains, each with its own puzzle piece.
“Oh, my goodness. Bless your heart. These are sterling.”

“One is for you, and the other for Daddy,” Vivianne told them, so excited she’d pulled off the surprise.

Her mother put the two silver pieces together, and her father read the words carved into the puzzle, “You are the missing
piece to my puzzle.”

Vivianne jumped up and down. “Were you surprised? Do you like them?”

“I love them, and you totally surprised me.” Mom put one necklace around her neck and the other around Daddy’s. Then she picked
up Vivianne, kissed her cheek, and hugged her tight. “Where did you find such pretty necklaces?”

“And how did you pay for them?” Daddy asked.

“My friend Allison’s mother makes jewelry, and I saved up my allowance for a whole year.”

Dad smoothed back Vivianne’s hair, his face proud. “That’s my little planner.”

The brush of Vivianne’s hair against Jordan’s cheek brought him out of the memory. What the hell had just happened?

Jordan had been through a lot of strange things during his very long lifetime, but the last few seconds of having someone
else’s memory downloaded into his head was a first. Why and how had that birthday party ended up in his head?

Was Vivianne a telepath who could send and receive? He hadn’t ever heard even a rumor to that effect, but suppose she was
getting his memories while he saw hers? He turned to look at her. If she was broadcasting or receiving, she didn’t seem aware
of it. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing steady as she floated weightless.

Asleep but restless. Her eyelids fluttered, her fingers twitched, as if she were dreaming. The tiny motions only drew attention
to her beauty, her high cheekbones, her slim fingers. Fingers that had clutched him with a desperate passion that teased his
lips into a grin.

Even as he fought to grab hold of the hull so he could propel himself to the ship’s bridge, his own memories crept into his
mind. Vivianne’s suspicions, her widened eyes at the sight of the Staff, her passion. Her blacking out as he’d launched the
Draco.

He could only imagine her fury when she awakened and learned what he’d done. He supposed she’d see it as yet another reason
to call him
enemy.

And without a doubt, he knew she’d be furious if she learned that he’d had an inadvertent glimpse into her childhood. He’d
deal with what had happened between them later. He’d deal with her later, too. Right now he had to focus on keeping the ship
that he’d launched into space flying.

The steady purr of the engines told him that his sour-of-the-moment plan had worked. As he pulled himself toward the bridge,
his clothing reassembled around his body, the nanotechnology repairing the rips.

Clothing was the least of his concerns. Those alarms could be due to leaking air, loss of pressure, or overheating engines.
The ship was a few systems shy of ready. They hadn’t tested navigation or propulsion, not to mention that his untrained crew
of civilian engineers had no experience in space.

They’d adjust. Adapt.

Yet Jordan knew only too well what it was like to be ripped from home. He remembered the crippling pain of the loss of his
home world, Dominus. The terror of knowing he would forevermore be alone. The rage that he had survived when everyone else
had died.

It was his destiny, his fate, and he’d lived through the centuries with a heavy heart and one purpose—to make sure his enemies
never destroyed another world. The brutal loss of Dominus had cost him family, friends, teachers, everyone he’d ever known.
Like Vivianne, he had come from a loving home. Although recalling his parents’ faces after so many centuries had become difficult,
Jordan never, ever, forgot his vow—to make certain the Tribes fell.

But in all his years of living, he’d never experienced anything as simultaneously confusing and overpowering as his lust for
Vivianne. When they came together, it was like two pieces of her missing puzzle. What the hell had happened when he’d connected
the Staff to the power grid? He’d been on fire and out of control. And he’d never felt that way before. He’d had no choice
but to drive into her, just as she hadn’t seemed to have a choice but to take him with equal ferocity.

He was sorry the sex happened that way, and baffled by how her childhood memory had ended up in his mind. But there was no
time for regrets.

If that meant her feelings were hurt or that he had to take a bunch of raw recruits into space, then he’d do it. He didn’t
like acting with ruthless disregard for the wishes of others, but he’d lived too long to go soft now. If it meant retrofitting
the
Draco
along the way, he’d manage. Nothing was more important than stopping the Tribes. Nothing.

Of all those aboard the ship, Vivianne would be hit the hardest by her new circumstances. The
Draco
was his means to an end—finding the Holy Grail and stopping the Tribes before they reached Earth. Vivianne didn’t belong
on this mission. But he couldn’t take her back to Earth without the risk of being arrested. Unfortunately for her, out here
there were no schedules to keep—just life-and-death decisions.

Jordan surged through the corridor and onto the
Draco’
s bridge, which was filled with engineers. “Lay off the controls.”

“Whatever you say.” Tennison threw his hands into the air.

Once upon a time, Tennison had been in charge of this team. But at sixty-five years of age, paunchy and bald as an eagle,
he’d been happy to step back and let Jordan take the lead. Jerking away from the data stream on the monitor, Tennison bumped
into Sean, who was studying the readings over his shoulder.

Sean was Jordan’s fix-it guy. He might be short on theory, but he had the knack for puttering. Over the last decade he’d worked
on anything that moved—ships, airplanes, and heavy machinery.

“What’s going on?” Gray, the thirty-year-old chemical, mechanical, and industrial engineer had strapped himself into the communications
system.

“Give Jordan a moment to assess.” Darren clung to a porthole and looked down at Earth. Quiet, thoughtful, and short in stature,
the man thought first and spoke rarely. He was the best chess player among them, and although he could calculate differential
equations in his head, he wasn’t worth a damn at poker.

“Someone help me.” Lyle, the most recent addition to the team, floated helplessly in midair. Ever since human resources had
assigned him to Jordan’s team, the man had complained about the working conditions, the hours, the pay. Jordan had heard the
gossip. A cheating wife, a nasty divorce. Alimony payments he couldn’t afford. But he performed his job well, even if he whined
a lot. “I expect hazard pay added to my check, and I’m going to—”

“Silence.” Jordan had no time to coddle the man.

Of course, they weren’t prepared, and all hell had broken loose. Alarms screamed. Warning lights flickered.

“Damage reports?” Jordan asked.

“Communications are down,” Gray summarized, “and life support’s on the backup generator.”

Jordan grabbed hold of the command console, seized Lyle’s foot, and plucked him from the ceiling. A blinking light on the
monitor drew his gaze back to the engineering readouts. Dozens of systems were in the red zone.

“Turn on artificial gravity,” Jordan ordered Sean. “Do it slowly.”

“Gravity’s not responding.” Sean yanked a panel off a console, pulled a soldering iron from his tool belt, and went to work.

“What the hell just happened?” Lyle rubbed a giant bruise on his forehead.

Tennison grinned. “We’re flying through space. That’s what happened.” He cracked his knuckles. “And my arthritis… is almost
gone.”

Darren and Tennison high fived.

Lyle’s face turned ashen. Jordan handed him an airsickness bag. They might not have gravity, navigation, or stabilizers, but
they had barf bags.

“Lyle, I need an immediate inventory of our supplies,” Jordan snapped. “Tennison, Vivianne Blackstone’s in the engine compartment.
Check on her, and see who else is aboard. Then do what you can to solidify life support. I’d rather not rely on backup power.”

Darren and Tennison launched themselves toward the stern.

Lyle didn’t throw up, but his eyes bulged. “How did this happen? Can we get back in one piece? What’s powering the
Draco
? The cosmic converter hasn’t even been delivered. Do we have landing—”

“Lyle.” Jordan snapped his fingers in front of the man’s panicked eyes. “Go down to the cargo bay. If you need Darren to help
with the inventory, take him with you.”

“You just want to be rid of me, and—”

“Now.” Jordan hardened his tone. The crew needed to understand their lives now depended on following orders.

Lyle took one last frightened glance through the circular viewscreen where Earth was receding behind them, then nodded. Sean
moved away from his console and fiddled with a dial. “Artificial gravity might work now. I tied into the new power grid.”

Jordan settled into his chair. “Good work. We’re at eighty percent?”

Sean signaled a thumbs-up. “Eighty-one point five.”

“Captain.” Gray pulled off a headset, his eyes apprehensive. “You need to hear this message.”

“Put it through the speaker.”

Vivianne stepped onto the bridge and took in the view of Earth. Wearing her cream blouse, gray slacks, and olive jacket, she
looked every inch the corporate executive and nothing like the Vivianne who short minutes ago had had wild, savage sex with
Jordan. Not until he looked into her eyes. Turbulent with tension, her eyes green and vibrant, she looked like a volcano on
the edge of erupting.

A strange urge to reach out and touch her jarred him. But she wouldn’t appreciate an intimate geture. Nor was it appropriate.
Although they were now something more than boss and employee, they had to forget the sexual encounter. Put it out of their
minds. Sweeping back a mass of red-gold hair, Vivianne spied Jordan at the controls and speared him a barbed glare.