He was already hard, but he held himself in check and stroked her gently, caressing the small swollen nub until she pushed against his hand. He went still wondering how far to take this. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if he could give her some pleasure, some respite from the pain, he desperately wanted to.
“Please,” she said as he hesitated. “I won’t break, and I need to feel you inside me.”
Setting the shower to air, he held her in the warm blast. When they were both dry, he carried her through to the bedroom and lowered her to the mattress. He came down above her, locking his elbows so his weight didn’t touch her. She parted her thighs and he slid inside, heard her whispered sigh of pleasure. He made love to her slowly, until he felt her fly apart beneath him, and then he lay beside her and slept.
He awoke to the sound of coughing. Tannis was sitting up in bed. When she turned to face him, he saw the tracks of crimson from her nostrils, and he knew their time together was running out. She touched her fingertips to her face and held them up before her eyes. Her lids fluttered closed for a brief moment, and when she opened them, her expression was pissed.
“Shit,” she said. “Shit. Fuck. Crap.”
Yeah, that about covered it.
Callum rolled out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. Keeping his mind blank, he grabbed a towel and moistened it in the small sink, then went back to her and perched on the edge of the bed. Gently, he wiped the blood from her face, leaned in, and kissed her.
“You have to go,” she said. “I just got a comm from Daisy—we’re coming up on The Endeavor.”
This was it, then. His gut tightened with the almost forgotten mixture of anticipation and fear he’d always felt before he went into action as a pilot. However many missions he flew, it had always been the same. Once in the air, the sensation dissipated and he’d reached a cool, calm place where his brain and body functioned with a precision he never experienced on the ground. He just hoped the same would happen here, but he doubted it. Back then, there hadn’t been so much at stake. If Tannis were to die, he had to make sure she went, knowing what was left of her crew were safe and those dead were revenged.
“I want you on board The Endeavor,” he said. Whatever time she had left, he wanted her close.
“Just try and leave me behind.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Tannis watched through the scanner as they drew away from El Cazador. The ship had been her home for the last fifteen years. Now, she was filled with the knowledge that she would never see her again, and a wave of sadness washed through her.
Four of Devlin’s men had taken over El Cazador—she would be used as a distraction while they slipped onto Trakis Four on The Endeavor. At least that was the plan.
Rico would hate it that she was leaving his ship in the hands of strangers. At the thought, she blinked back tears and then quickly wiped her face with the cloth she held. No way did she want the others to see how bad she was; they needed to focus, not worry about her.
The small shuttle was crowded with the six of them. Whenever they’d gone on a mission before there had always been the buzz of excitement. Today, the atmosphere was subdued. It was good to know they were sad at her dying, but maybe she should say something cheery like—hey, get over it, everyone has to go sometime. But that wouldn’t even be true in the present company.
She cast a sideways glance at Callum. He stood beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. He appeared composed and actually managed a small smile when he caught her gaze. He was trying so hard.
Beside him, Skylar stood, her expression distant as she, too, watched El Cazador disappear from the scanner. No doubt, she was thinking about Rico. But that would pass. She had time, after all.
The one she was really concerned about was Jon. He’d already shifted and lay on the floor of the shuttle, taking up most of the space. His head rested on his paws, but his amber eyes were open and watchful. If they failed…
She shut down the thought. They wouldn’t fail.
“There she is,” Skylar said.
The ship appeared out of nowhere on the scanner. One second they were staring at the vastness of space, the next the viewer was filled entirely with the matte black hull of The Endeavor.
“We’re inside the shielding,” Callum said.
The ship was huge—ten times the size of El Cazador and beautiful, all sleek, graceful lines. “So tell me again—how many crew?”
Callum cast her a wry look. Yeah, so she’d already asked, but she needed to take her mind off the coming separation.
“I told you—I don’t know. She can carry up to one hundred men comfortably, but she can be flown by one person so long as they’re Collective. I can sense five Collective members, but there could be others.”
“Can she really hear your thoughts?” Daisy asked, her tone full of awe. Obviously, to Daisy’s mind, telepathic people were nothing special, but a telepathic ship was way cool.
“Yes. We identified the frequencies of the telepathic brain waves and tuned her in.”