Jordan (5 page)

“Do it,” Jordan agreed.

Gray made the adjustments. Jordan coordinated the controls. And they popped out of hyperspace. The stars stopped streaking.
Space looked normal. Too bad they’d lost power and gravity again—which left the
Draco
tumbling.

Vivianne clutched at the console but missed. She ended up floating halfway between the two decks. Gray reached to tug her
down.

Jordan shook his head. “Leave her. She can’t cause trouble up there.”

Vivianne struggled but failed to reach a bulkhead. “I’m not the one who launched this ship and almost got us blown up. Or
who shot us into hyperspace.”

“No, you just sent us into the wrong damn wormhole,” he drawled.

“You’re accusing me?” Outrage almost choked her. “I haven’t so much as touched one control.”

“True,” he admitted. “But when you knocked into my hand, we vectored off course. We’re now thousands of light-years away from
Earth.”

A few thousand… light-years? She twisted in midair to peer out the viewscreen, but nothing looked familiar. Earth was gone.
So was the sun. Mouth dry, she forced out the words. “Where are we?”

“Damned if I know.” Jordan brought up several familiar star systems seen from Earth and tried to place them over the ones
shining through the viewscreen, but clearly nothing matched. “I set our coordinates for Pentar.”

“Pentar?” Where had she heard that name? It was hard to think when she was spinning in midair. But suddenly it came to her.
“Earth’s intel from Honor had said Pentar’s the last reported position of the Holy Grail.”

“If we were anywhere near Pentar, the Staff would lead us straight to the Grail. But we’re nowhere near it,” Jordan mumbled.

Ice stabbed her spine and chilled her bones, even as sweat trickled under her arms. Pentar was in Tribe territory. Did Jordan
intend to steal the
Draco
and hand it over to the enemy?

In all fairness, she supposed he still could be adhering to the
Draco’
s original mission—heading to Pentar to steal the Holy Grail back from the Tribes. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that the
Draco
was being powered by an alien artifact, heading into enemy territory, and captained by a man with a suspicious background.

So far, Jordan had offered no explanations. And she had no clue to his intentions.

Vivianne clenched her hands into fists. Her head ached and her stomach was churning. Between the lack of gravity and her body’s
slow spin, she was growing dizzy. “If I promise not to touch anything, will you please pull me down?”

“Why should I believe you?” Jordan muttered, but he reached up, grabbed her arm, and thrust her behind a console.

“Before we ran out of power, the engines redlined,” Tennison reminded them over the speaker system. “There may be damage.
Self-diagnosis isn’t working, either. I could use Sean’s help down here.”

“Let them cool off, and I’ll reboot the system,” Sean told him.

“Before anyone eyeballs the engines, we should shut down the power,” Tennison countered.

“We have no stored power,” Jordan explained. “We used all the reserves.”

Was he trying to get them killed? Vivianne rounded on Jordan. “If Sean and Tennison are going to crawl between the engines,
I’d feel a helluva lot better if we knew the power wasn’t going to come back on and fry them,” she said. “And there might
be residual energy. Or they could encounter loose wires, electronic feedback—”

“Fine,” Jordan agreed, “but shutting down the power’s not necessary.”

Sean scrambled out from behind his station. “I’ll go see what—”

“No. Vi and I will take care of it from engineering.” Jordan swiveled away from the console.

She’d hoped Jordan would leave and give her a few minutes alone with Gray. That Jordan had neatly ruined her plan before she’d
made a move to stop him frustrated her, but what had her nerves skittering was the notion of returning to the engine compartment.
With Jordan.

“Let’s go.” Jordan shoved away from the console, launched himself into the air, and grabbed her hand. Warmth flooded back
into her and she recalled his hands all over her breasts, her belly, her butt. God. What the hell was wrong with her?

She had to get herself together.

She supposed now was not the time to tell him she didn’t like him calling her Vi. A nickname implied intimacy. But intimacy
was not what they had shared. They’d had sex. But what really stopped her from saying anything was the erotic tingle going
up her undulating scales.

What was wrong with her? Jordan was a liar, a thief, a hijacker, who’d put all their lives at risk. The wild sex they’d had
earlier was totally inexplicable. Why had her dream about Jordan as a teenager seemed so real? What had made her hormones
go crazy? She’d been no more able to resist him than she could counter the lack of gravity.

Something was very, very wrong. Because she didn’t have sex with employees, clients, or strangers. If there was one thing
that defined her, it was self-control. Vivianne always did her research. She always had options. Always had a plan. And a
backup plan. To turn the
Draco
around, she’d have to do some hard thinking.

She jerked her hand from his. The motion changed her trajectory.

“Careful.” Jordan grabbed her ankle and saved her from banging her head on the bulkhead. “You may not have weight, but you
still have mass.”

“Thanks.”

Soaring through the corridor, he latched on to the engine-room door to slow his flight, made certain she stopped safely, then
neatly slid toward the glowing Staff.

She recalled him touching the Staff, that otherworldly shimmer engulfing him. And she’d been touching his shoulder. So the
shimmer had crawled over her, too.

The rest was history.

Lust that came out of nowhere. There had been no lead-up. No coy flirting. No kissing. No touching. No foreplay. Hell, since
she’d discovered he’d lied about his identity, she didn’t even know if she liked him. She most assuredly didn’t trust him.

Reluctant to go anywhere near that Staff, but needing answers, Vivianne followed. Deep in thought, she didn’t pay attention
to her progress and almost soared into another bulkhead before wrenching to an awkward halt.

No longer glowing brightly, the Staff now appeared like a real bough with carved symbols in the bark. Runes. But it was way
more than a branch with ancient carvings.

Jordan slid his hand over the Staff with a familiarity that suggested he knew every rune, every centimeter of it by heart.
His pointer finger stopped over a marking that reminded her of a key. A straight piece of metal connected a crystal at one
end and a triangular stone on the other. He pushed on the crystal, and the staff slowly lost its very dim glow.

“It’s like no power source I’ve ever seen,” she murmured, edging back to avoid touching him. But that wasn’t really protection.
The self-confidence that always radiated from him was sexually potent, and now he seemed more certain of himself than ever.
She ignored the ruffling of her scales, the racing of her pulse. “What fuels the Staff?”

As if he suspected she was fighting desire, his stare was bold and assessed her frankly. “The Staff eats pure energy.”

She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “It eats? You’re speaking as if it’s alive.”

He stood, his broad back to the Staff, and eyed her with a critical squint. “I don’t have time to teach you basic six-dimensional
quantum physics.”

She’d never heard of six-dimensional quantum physics, and he’d just called it basic.

In the confined space, she boldly met his glittering blue gaze. “Who are you?”

He raised a dark eyebrow, his voice sounding husky and weary. “If I told you, you’d accuse me of lying again.”

“Try me.” She folded her arms across her chest, determined to ignore his smoldering look.

“I’ve gone by many names. Chen. Jordan. The one you’ll recognize is… Merlin.”

Merlin.
“As in King Arthur? Camelot? That Merlin?”

He nodded.

“Okay, so your mother had a romantic bent, but—”

“My mother didn’t name me after Merlin. My real name’s unpronounceable to most of your people, so I took one that was close.
Jordan.”

“Sorry, I’m not following you.”

“When I came to Earth to join King Arthur Pendragon in the fight against the Tribes, I lived in Camelot and I took the name
Merlin.”

Holy shit.
He was right about one thing. She didn’t believe him. In the last few years, she’d come to accept that the legendary King
Arthur Pendragon was not from Earth but had come from a moon called Pendragon, that he’d traveled to Earth in an ancient transporter
that was currently known as Stonehenge, and that he’d come to Earth with a contingent of aliens, Knights of the Round Table,
to help Earth fight the Tribes.

Arthur had been only partially successful. Before his death, he’d hidden the Holy Grail safely away in Avalon, an ancient
edifice on the Pendragon moon. And now the Tribes had the Grail once again. But for Jordan to claim he knew King Arthur… he’d
have to have lived for more than fifteen centuries.

Half in anticipation, half in dread, she asked, “You’re saying you’re over fifteen hundred years old?”

Again, he nodded.

“Funny, you don’t look a day over thirty.”

His eyes glinted with humor. “I don’t age.”

“You don’t age?”

He looked her straight in the eyes and nodded.

Okay. He seemed to lie without a conscience. She’d remember that. But she played along for the moment. “Wasn’t Merlin an old
man with a beard in Arthurian legend?”

“Just one of my many disguises.”

“You’re immortal?”

He eyed her with a calculating expression. “Let’s just say I have the potential to live a very, very long time.”

He was as serious as engine failure. Clearly he believed what he was saying. Or he was the best liar she’d ever met.

Vivianne hadn’t reached her position in life without being able to think outside the box, too. Time to reassess.

Wrapping her skepticism around her, she eyed him warily. “Are we going to play twenty questions, or are you going to explain—”

“Captain.” Darren poked his head through the hatch. “Look what I’ve found.”

He held a black-and-white Boston terrier, with mournful brown eyes and one floppy ear. Vivianne petted the dog’s head and
it leaped into her arms.

His warm little body snuggled against her. “Hey, fella. Where did you come from?”

“He doesn’t belong to any of the engineers,” Darren said. “I’ve already asked.”

She scratched behind his ears. “He’s a stowaway?”

“If we run out of food,” Jordan muttered, “I suppose we can eat him.”

“Over my dead body.” She clutched the dog to her chest and he licked her neck. “Don’t worry, fella. I won’t let the mean old
man eat you.”

Darren started to chuckle, caught sight of Jordan’s scowl, and uttered a choking cough instead. The dog settled happily in
Vivianne’s arms, his nose tucked under her chin.

Darren cleared his throat. “I also found…”

“Yes?” Jordan prodded him.

“My girlfriend, Knox.”

Darren’s expression looked sheepish, and Vivianne focused her attention on him. “How’d she get onboard?”

“My fault.” Darren rubbed his temple. “I just wanted to show Knox the
Draco.
I thought she’d left, but she fell asleep in the bunk.”

The bunk? Vivianne didn’t want to think about that too hard. “Does Knox have a security clearance?”

“Yes, ma’am. She works in payroll.”

“That’s useful,” Jordan said, and Vivianne suppressed a smile. She was beginning to learn that Jordan looked tough and talked
rough, but at times, he was more growl than bite. “Sorry, how’s the inventory coming?”

“Lyle and I are working on the list. There’s a lot of supplies in the cargo hold. Knox’s helping, too.”

“Can your girlfriend cook?” Jordan asked.

At just the mention of food, Vivianne’s stomach twisted. Eating without gravity was something she’d prefer not to try.

“I’ll rustle us up some grub.” Darren hurried away.

The dog didn’t seem to mind when Darren left. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Apparently he had no trouble with space sickness.
Or men who told the most outrageous stories.

“You believe me?” Jordan asked her, with those strange glittering eyes piercing her. And she recalled another part of him
piercing her, pleasuring her. The memory taunted her as details came back. His five-o’clock shadow rubbing against her neck.
His hands gripping her hips. “Do you?” he prodded, drawing her from her daydream.

“Huh?”

“You called me an old man. So you believe me?”

She’d reserve judgment until she had more facts. “So what planet are you from?”

“Dominus was my home world. It hasn’t existed for over fifteen hundred years.” He rested his hands on his hips.

So Jordan was older than even King Arthur? So old that his world no longer existed? Alien technology might explain how he
knew how to design systems that no one else understood. It might also explain how he knew how to enflame her lust against
her better judgment. She reminded herself he might be old, but he was still a man with desires like any other. And he’d just
told her his world was gone.

“What happened?” she whispered, sensing tragedy from the harsh twist of his lips and the haunting pain in his eyes.

“While I was exploring a nearby moon, the Tribes shot a planet buster at Dominus.”

That sounded terrible. “A planet buster?”

“Missiles that fire in sync into the nickel-iron core and change the world’s pressure. The planet collapses in on itself,
then explodes, the pressure so great that nothing larger than cosmic dust particles survive.”

Earth also had a nickel-iron core, and Vivianne’s gut tightened. “I thought the Tribes want to enslave people and steal other
planets’ natural resources.”

“They do.”

“But they can’t benefit from such planetwide destruction. So what’s the point?”

“The Tribes couldn’t conquer Dominus, so they destroyed it. They believe that any independence or freedom is a threat to their
authority.”