Jordan

by Susan Kearney

  His memories of her brought a lump to her throat. The first time they’d made love. She saw her own face through his eyes, her lips soft and pouty, the way she swept her hair off her face to reveal her cheekbones. The love for her that burned so brightly at his core.

  She focused on that love. Drew on it. Pulled it around her like a warm blanket. Jordan even liked when she was stubborn. He wasn’t at all threatened by her ability to run a vast company. In fact, he was proud of her.

  All those thoughts flashed by in seconds. The chemistry between them stoked the fire he’d already kindled. She wasn’t certain when they peeled off their clothes. But finally they were both naked.

  He turned her around. “Look at us.”

  She opened her eyes to see their reflections in a mirror. The water was up to her waist, her back against his chest, her head resting on his powerful shoulder. He cupped her breasts and flicked his fingers over the tips, shooting heat straight to her core.

  She thrashed her head, thinking she couldn’t stand to wait much longer. But she would. Because he had to wait, too. He could feel her burning up, feel the tension in her, the anticipation as she fed him energy and it looped back and swelled between them. She’d always wanted him to know how good he made her feel, and now he did.

  At the same time, she wanted to give him pleasure. Turning in his arms, she leaned forward, and as her teeth closed on the cord of flesh at his neck, his excitement merged with her own, spiraling into something greater than either of them alone.

  “Feeling what you feel is so cool,” she murmured.

  “Here I thought I was making you hot,” he teased.

  She lifted her mouth to his chest, laved his nipple. “Can’t you feel the burn?”

  He traced his hands over her back, her hips. Lower.

  He complied with her thought and his hands cupped her butt. Craving more friction, she wrapped her legs around him, intent on pressing against him, on merging their bodies.

  She couldn’t wait to know what he felt like when he was inside her. But he seemed in no hurry at all, his hands caressing, stroking, his mouth once more finding her lips. But she knew better. She could feel his anticipation as her own and fed him more energy.

  His hearts battered his ribs, and his groin grew even tighter. Even as he kissed her, he was restraining a groan. The knowledge of how badly he wanted her made her frantic to have him now.

  Oh, sweet stars, he had yet to touch her where she wanted him most, and she was lifting herself onto his hips, trying to slide down onto his sex.

  “Stop squirming,” he warned.

  “I can’t wait.” She needed him now. Now. Now. Now.

  With a laugh, he raised her bottom until she was just the right height. His hardness filled her, her heat sheathing him, the delicious friction radiating from his flesh as well as her own. And it was magical, marvelous, magnificent.

  Her head was spinning as he thrust into her.

  She began to move with him, certain she was about to explode.

  Wait. He withdrew.

  “Nooo.”

  He placed his hands around her waist, lifted her to the pool’s edge, parted her thighs. With a wicked grin, he ducked his head between her legs. “I have to taste you.”

  Gently, he parted her cleft, blew on her hot folds. His tongue tickled her clit. Oh, God. Awash in sensation, the feel of his tongue rasping back and forth drove her to the brink. Every muscle in her clenched. He was driving her wild because he knew exactly where and how and when to touch her… because he was right there feeling it with her.

  The more pleasure he gave her, the more frantically she squirmed; the more energy she fed him, the more excited he got. Until she couldn’t tell which sensation was hers and which pleasure was his.

  She didn’t want to explode. Not until he was inside her. Finally, when he knew she couldn’t stand another moment, he gave her her wish.

  This time she didn’t hold back. Instead, she let loose, exploding once, then again and again. Even as she shared the pleasure, he marveled at the multiple eruptions until she swept him right along with her.

  Feeling him enjoy her was a mystical experience that she would never, ever forget. She grinned. Not only did she have her own memory. Thanks to shari-ki, she now also had his.

  History is owned by the winner.

  —KING RION JAQARD

  39

  Vivianne and Jordan left the house a few hours later, after the heat from Security died down. Vivianne already knew the important things about Jordan. Besides being hot in bed, he was a man of honor, brave and kind. But now that she possessed Jordan’s memories, there were so many things she wanted to know about him. And all she had to do was think the question and the memory was there, but now was not the time.

  With Jordan busy mind scanning and distracted from their immediate surroundings, she had to keep her eyes peeled for Security as they sneaked upward level by level. When they reached the surface and had no difficulty transferring back to the space station, she had very confused feelings about their success. While on the one hand she couldn’t wait to get back to the Draco, on the other, dread filled her. Once they launched into space, Jordan would unite the Grail and the Staff.

  She was going to lose him. Although she’d known the inevitability of what was coming, she hadn’t realized how it was going to tear her apart. She’d told herself she’d accepted his death, but she’d always harbored a secret hope that his sacrifice wouldn’t be necessary.

  As they strode onto the space station’s loading dock, her pulse picked up. If Trendonis was going to stop them, this would be the place. But the mechanics seemed to pay no attention to them. Jordan signed off on the repairs, using his skills to fool the Tribes into thinking they’d paid, with credits they didn’t have.

  Vivianne hurried aboard ship, and George raced forward to greet her, then dropped a Ping-Pong ball at her feet. She petted his head, picked up the ball, and tossed it toward the galley. “Fetch.”

  George happily ran after the ball as Jordan closed the hatch behind him. “Traffic control’s given us a slot to leave in five minutes.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “That’s fast.”

  “A bribe worked wonders.” Jordan kissed her cheek and headed for the bridge.

  She accepted the ball from George, then lifted the dog into her arms and swallowed hard. Already her throat was tightening. Her chest hurt. Just his simple kiss to her cheek had set off her sorrow.

  And while having his memories was a comfort, memories were no substitute for his arms around her, his demanding kisses, his gentle teasing, his thinking fast on his feet. Going on without him would be the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

  He meant everything to her. She’d do almost anything not to lose him. But if he didn’t unite the Staff and the Grail, Earth couldn’t stand against the Tribes.

  But suppose the damn legend was wrong?

  Suppose Earth could win in the fight to come? Suppose Jordan’s sacrifice was for nothing?

  Vivianne spun and headed to her cabin. She needed to talk to Maggie. Perhaps things had gotten better.

  “Earth’s surrounded,” Maggie told her in a grim, flat tone that dashed Vivianne’s hopes. “The Tribes have given us twenty-four hours to surrender unconditionally, or they’ll attack. They claim they have the Holy Grail and can’t lose.”

  “That’s not true. Jordan and I stole it back.”

  “It’s too late,” Maggie told her, her voice saddened. “They’ve blockaded Earth with an armada. Hundreds of thousands of ships are up there.”

  Vivianne’s stomach knotted in fear and frustration. “What’s Earth’s response?”

  “Total panic. There’s almost no food. Little water. Martial law has failed. Too many deserters. There are riots in every major city. Looting. No one goes out without a gun.”

  Vivianne forced herself to speak past the fear choking her. “What’s Earth’s response to the Tribe’s ultimatum?”

  “News
is sketchy. Europe and Africa will surrender. The North American States are ready to fire nuclear missiles into space, even though we know that when the radiation falls back on us, it may wipe out the planet.”

  “Earth’s got to hold on, Maggie. Just a little longer. Once we launch the Draco, Jordan plans to unite the Ancient Staff with the Holy Grail.”

  “The Ancient Staff?”

  “It’s a legendary energy source.”

  “How will that help?” Maggie’s skepticism came through the channel.

  “According to galactic legend, once Jordan merges the two objects in space, the Tribes can’t win.”

  “You’d better do it soon. With the state this planet’s in, we may blow ourselves up before the Tribes get the chance.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  “Just hurry.”

  Sick to her stomach, chilled, and hating her options, Vivianne ended the transmission and gathered George against her, his warm, furry body lending comfort. The dog picked right up on her mood and tried to lick the tears running down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

  She didn’t have time for tears or sorrow or wallowing in self-pity. She didn’t have time to grieve.

  The captain of the Draco couldn’t be seen crying on the bridge, and that’s where she needed to go. She hurried to the command center, all the while sharing Maggie’s news with Jordan over her handheld. She arrived just as the ship floated away from the loading dock.

  Jordan was at the helm. Gray was at navigation, Sean at engineering. Tennison was speaking to traffic control through his headset.

  Shari-ki love, you knew this moment was coming.

  Jordan’s thought popped into her head with a rush of tenderness.

  “Traffic control’s asking us to pull out of the lineup.” Tennison frowned and tossed off the headset. “I sent back static. But that will only work for another ten seconds.”

  “Tell them our recent rehaul’s giving us a problem,” Vivianne ordered, “and we can’t power down.”

  Tennison repeated the message twice, then cut the communication. “I don’t think they bought it.”

  “How long until we clear the traffic?” Jordan asked Gray.

  “Ten minutes. Maybe twelve.”

  That was too long. The Tribes would send ships after them.

  Sean’s head jerked up. “Captain, a warship just took off from dock eighty-seven. It’s heading straight for us, and everything in its way is skedaddling.”

  “How long until they have a lock on the Draco?” Jordan asked.

  “Two minutes,” Gray said.

  Jordan vacated the helm. “That might be enough time.”

  Vivianne felt herself go faint, nauseous.

  “Time enough for what, sir?” Gray asked.

  Not yet. Even if Vivianne hadn’t been linked to Jordan through shari-ki, she would have felt his determination. They were in space, and he had less than two minutes to unite the Grail and the Staff.

  Goodbye, shari-ki love.

  Jordan raced toward the airlock, the Grail in a pack over his shoulder, the Staff sheathed to his side. Every fiber of Vivianne’s being wanted to race after him, to beg him not to destroy the Staff that gave him life.

  She willed herself to stay on the bridge. It took every speck of willpower to let him do what must be done. Earth needed her skills to keep the ship out of the Tribes’ hands until Jordan… died.

  Oh, God.

  Tennison remained calm. “Traffic control’s demanding we stop or be shot down.”

  Vivianne gathered her panic and locked it up tight. “Tell them we’re trying to comply, but the valve’s stuck and if we shut down, we’ll careen into the space station.”

  “One minute until the warship has us in a lock.” Sean began a countdown.

  Vivianne bit her lip and followed Jordan’s progress on the monitor. He’d almost reached the airlock. But even after he tugged the handle, the portal would have to cycle and equalize the pressure before it would open.

  “Where’s Jordan’s spacesuit?” Gray asked, eyes wide with horror.

  Damn him. Even if the legend didn’t come true, he was going to die.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  The airlock opened. Now it had to cycle closed before the outside door would allow him to exit. He’d have to time his actions, uniting the Staff and the Grail in the critical moment just before the outer hatch opened. Because after the airlock opened to space, every cell in his body would explode due to the pressure differential.

  Vivianne was going to be sick.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  As the airlock cycled, Jordan kneeled, opened the backpack, and removed the Grail. He unsheathed and extended the Staff to its full length, then carefully positioned the bottom of the Staff over the center of the Grail.

  A scream bubbled up from her chest to beg him not to do it. To forget the legend. She needed him. But so did Earth… She prayed the distance between them prevented her from feeding him her emotions, that his dying memory of her wouldn’t be her anguish.

  “Ten seconds,” Gray said.

  Vivianne held her breath, clenched her fists, and pressed her lips tightly together so she wouldn’t make a sound. Jordan could hear the countdown through the speaker system. She had so many things she wanted to say. But there was no time.

  She should look away from the monitor before she saw the man she loved disintegrate before her eyes. But she couldn’t stop watching.

  Eyes fierce with concentration, Jordan showed determination in every tight muscle of his body.

  Sean monitored the gauges from engineering. “The hatch should be ready to open. On my mark. Now.”

  Jordan kicked the handle down to open the hatch. At the same time, he slammed the Ancient Staff into the center of the Holy Grail.

  Nothing happened.

  “The hatch.” Jordan kicked the switch again. “It’s jammed.”

  Gray spoke urgently. “Captain, the warship’s locked on to us.”

  “Raise shields,” she ordered, then spoke to Jordan, her hearts pounding. “What’s wrong with the airlock?”

  “The circuit’s blown.”

  “Sean, go replace that faulty airlock circuit,” she ordered.

  “On my way.” Sean hurried from the bridge.

  That circuit had worked just fine when Vivianne and Jordan had come aboard just a few minutes ago. Had a circuit really blown?

  Or had one of the Tribes’ mechanics rigged the airlock circuit to blow after they left the space station? But why? The Tribes couldn’t have known their plans, or the Draco would never have been allowed to pull away from the dock. Nothing made sense, including the fact that the warship had yet to fire a weapon.

  “Why haven’t they shot at us?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Gray answered.

  “They don’t want to destroy the Grail,” Jordan muttered through the speakers, recycling the lock to reenter the main body of the ship.

  Jordan was correct, of course. And that gave her only a measure of relief. Because not only could the firepower from the warship kill them a hundred times over, they couldn’t out run the warship, either. Or even try Jordan’s dangerous trick of jumping straight into hyperspace. With so many ships nearby, trying to jump now would pull other ships out of sub–light space with them and create a massive collision that would kill them all.

  “Holy shit.” Gray’s fingers danced over his screen. “The mother of all energy beams is shooting straight for us.”

  Vivianne jerked her gaze from the monitor and Jordan to Gray’s data screen. The burst was wide, dense, and constant. “Evasive maneuvers. Hard port forty degrees.”

  “It’s a clutch beam,” Jordan yelled. “If it catches us, we’re dead meat.”

  Vivianne had never heard of a clutch beam, but after she accessed Jordan’s memories, she knew that if the beam imprisoned the Draco, her ship couldn’t cough up enough power to shake loose.

  V
ivianne prayed they could evade the beam long enough to fix the airlock. “Sean, hurry.”

  “I’m on it,” he replied.

  Gray fought with the controls. Sirens screamed. The engines protested.

  “Throw the power from the shields into the engines,” Jordan ordered as he sprinted onto the bridge.

  Vivianne stared at the data stream in horror. The beam was just a hundred meters off the Draco’s bow. “We’re not going to make it.”

  Dream as if you’re immortal, live as if you’ll die today.

  —KING ARTHUR PENDRAGON

  40

  The clutch beam engulfed the Draco, and it felt as if they were swallowed by Jell-O, then held in place with Super Glue. Vivianne threw every ounce of power into the engines.

  “We’re redlining,” Tennison warned.

  “All right, power down,” Vivianne ordered. There was no point in burning up the engines when they might need them later.

  Gray frowned. “They’ve launched a shuttle.”

  “How long have we got?” Vivianne asked.

  “Four, maybe five minutes.”

  Bleakly, she stared out the bridge viewscreens. There had been many times in her life when she felt like she’d come to a dead end. After her parents’ deaths. Back in that cave on Arcturus.

  Never had so many people been counting on her, and she was at a loss what to do next. They were trapped. In enemy territory. Surely it wouldn’t take long for the Tribes to board the Draco.

  Jordan took one look at the data and spun on his heel. “Vivianne, come with me.”

  “Gray, you have the com.” Vivianne had no clue why Jordan wanted both captains to abandon the bridge at such a critical time, but she was doing no good here.

  He hurried down to the engine room. “We have to make certain Trendonis doesn’t get the Grail.”

  “How?”

  “The Tribal shuttle will dock with the Draco in three minutes,” Gray informed them over the speaker system.