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  Whatever he was saying made Seffy smile. If it was anyone else, he would've told them to get a room. Trent glanced at Addison to see how she was taking this outrage, but the redhead seemed occupied somewhere inside her own mind.

  Gareth began running his hands up Seffy's arms.

  Trent opened his mouth to protest, but Lani emerged from the closet. “You know, I think I passed it on to Cynthia. You should try their room.”

  “Happily,” he muttered. “Sef, it's not here. You should ask Eve and Cynthia about it.”

  Seffy didn't appear to hear. She continued staring at the Gareth with a dopey expression on her face.

  “Sef, are you coming?” he groused.

  She turned her head slightly, then looked back at Gareth. “I have to go,” she said in a low voice. Still holding her hands, he stood.

  Trent watched in horror when he bent his head to kiss her on the mouth. Seffy tilted her face away and his lips missed the mark. She tugged her hands free, her color high as she told her friends goodbye.

  Out in the hall, Trent didn't trust himself to speak, but he did anyway. “What the hell was all that about?”

  Seffy seemed lost in a dream and didn't answer. She walked distractedly down to the next door and knocked. She waited well apart from him for someone to answer.

  Trent fumed at her behavior. Seffy insisted she wasn't a player but how could she act one way with him, then the same damn way with the Boy Toy? Had Gareth put the whammy on her? She certainly seemed spellbound.

  He shook his head, knowing he could never compete if Gareth was using weaponry like that—not when Seffy went all mushy around him by default. What was it between those two? There had to be some way to find out.

  “What?” Cynthia said, opening the door. Happy air didn't seem to help her sullen attitude much.

  Seffy straightened, apparently remembering the business at hand. “I was wondering if you have a skirt I borrowed from Lani a few weeks or so ago? I just need to peek at it.”

  Cynthia tossed her butter blonde hair over her shoulder and shrugged. “I have a bag of stuff that no one wears in the closet. Hang on and I'll get it.”

  While she didn't invite them in, the open door revealed Eva sprawled on a chair, staring at them with a bovine expression. Maybe the drugs affected different people differently? Made some amorous and others stupider? Trent wondered what these girls thought about. They mostly stayed away from the others. What was their story? How had they tagged along for the apocalyptic ride?

  He looked at Seffy, who kept her head tilted away from him as if she was hiding her face. She should be ashamed of her behavior with Gareth. It was disgusting.

  Cynthia returned with a bag and dropped it at Seffy's feet before closing the door with a succinct thud. Seffy knelt down and opened the bag. After rifling through several garments her movements stilled. She glanced up at Trent, the bloom very much off her cheeks. As he wondered what had made her so pale, she pulled out a dark skirt covered in orange cat hair.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Seffy held her head in her hands while sitting on her bed. A few feet away in the chair, Trent sat sending out pissed-off vibes in her general direction.

  “So what does it mean?”

  Yes, what does it mean? How is it that narcotics can change a person so completely and make him everything you've ever remembered and longed for? It's so cruel. Pharmaceutical cruelty. Should be an official crime.

  She closed her eyes, remembering Gareth's caressing gaze, his gentle strength. With every fiber of her being she wanted to crawl into his lap and hang on for dear life. And maybe she would've if Trent hadn't been there.

  It was a good thing Trent was there.

  Seffy looked over at him, knowing he didn't appreciate her and Gareth's little public display of affection. She didn't bother trying to explain. What was there to say? He'd never understand the bond that kept them so close for years. Never understand how they almost, almost crossed that bridge to a real relationship.

  And now thanks to a chemical concoction, it seemed as if that bridge was reappearing right underneath her very feet. Was it possible Gareth no longer saw her as a basket case? That he truly wanted her back? But Addison's acquiescence was the true barometer. No way would clean Addy sit by and allow what had happened to take place.

  “Earth to Seffy,” Trent said in a tight voice.

  She glanced at him. “About the skirt?”

  “Yeah, about the skirt.”

  Seffy heaved a sigh, forcing her mind to the moment. “I don't know. Uh, I guess it shows that there really was a cat, but not necessarily disappearing bones. As far as I know I'm not under any undue influence—”

  Trent let out a derisive snort.

  “—as far as tainted food, or experimentation goes. And if Fenn's telling the truth, then I'm not breathing anything either. So I can't explain what I saw.”

  But what if I was? What if I don't avoid exposure tomorrow morning? What if I seek Gareth out and see what happens? Would it be worth it to have his love even if he didn't realize he was giving it?

  “You also mentioned Verity.”

  Seffy ran her hand through her hair, shifting her thoughts. “Well, we've never really talked about her reaction to me in the Tangent Universe.”

  “Maybe you should ask Gareth. He and Verity were tight, right?”

  She noticed Trent's pinched mouth and arched brow. Seffy lowered her eyes and fiddled with her fingers. After an awkward silence, she looked up at him. “When do we find out when Fenn is through the treatment?”

  Trent sighed and stretched his legs out. “Olga said she would call.”

  “Do you think there's a connection?”

  “Between what?”

  “I don't know. Verity not being surprised to see her supposedly dead friend, and Fenn apparently having not just the knowledge but the supplies to go through a rapid-detox?”

  Trent crossed his arms over his chest and sent her a pointed look. “Nothing around here makes sense.” He suddenly jumped up and stalked to his room through her closet.

  She wasn't sure if he was gone for good or what, but a minute later he was back holding a gas mask.

  “Fenn brought these over for us to use in the morning. Set your alarm so you don't forget.” He tossed her the rubber mask complete with round breathing apparatus. “He also said that the air treatment will continue until security can verify everyone who's here is authorized to be here. It should only be a few more days.”

  “Authorized people?”

  “They're trying to round up the bad time-travelers.”

  She gazed up at him, having nearly forgotten about that. “Have they found any more?”

  “Five so far, all with weapons.”

  “Oh my God,” she said faintly. “And it's confirmed they're from the time tear, or whatever?”

  “Maybe. They're being held under lock and key for questioning.”

  She shook her head. “In all the drama, I almost forgot about that possibility.”

  “Well, I've noticed that's a habit of yours—forgetting about what really matters.”

  Seffy heard the hurt in his voice, but there were some things he'd simply never understand. She looked down at the mask—at the empty eyes—as Trent left the room.

  When she was alone, she shoved the mask into the desk drawer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trent emerged from the bathroom the following morning, tucking the towel around his waist. When he got to the middle of his room, he stopped.

  Seffy sat on the edge of his bed, her hands clasped together, gazing at him with a strange expression in her dark eyes. She wore jeans and a pink, frilly tank top, the strap of which hung off her bare shoulder. Her cheeks matched the color her top, making her look demure and smokin' hot at the same time. And it was only seven in the morning.

  “Hey.”

  When she didn't respond—just kept staring at him in that unnerving way—he sent her a questioning smile. “Is there
something you need?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was soft and husky, and the question hung in the air, loaded with several salacious meanings.

  He gulped, suddenly realizing he was at an extreme disadvantage wearing only a towel and a stupid look. “Can you give me a minute to get dressed?”

  She nodded slightly, her eyes wide.

  Alrighty then.

  Trent grabbed random articles of clothing from his dresser and headed back into the bathroom. After yanking on his jeans and shirt, he took a moment to think through what was happening. Obviously, he had got his wires crossed. Seffy was distracted and worried over Fenn's outcome, and probably still so loopy over Gareth, she didn't realize how she was acting. He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and pulled in a fresh one to settle his suddenly fevered brain.

  With things figured out, he emerged from the bathroom in a more stable frame of mind. Seffy stood up at his entrance and smiled a slow smile that sent his heart hammering.

  Oh crap.

  “How's Fenn?”

  Trent plowed a hand through his damp hair. “Oh, he's okay. The procedure went as planned but we'll have to wait a little longer to know how successful the outcome will be.”

  Trent bent his head to catch her gaze when he realized she was staring at the middle of his chest. Oops. He'd forgotten to button up. Seffy watched his clumsy fingers with a mesmerized expression. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was up to, but forgot the words when she approached him and stilled his hands, covering them with her own. His mouth went dry as she began undoing the few buttons he'd managed to close up.

  “Sef,” he croaked. “Uhhh...”

  Her fingertips grazed his chest, skimming down his ribcage on either side. Had she had a sudden yet proper change of heart? Or had she turned into a sexbot after all?

  Suddenly, it hit him. Oh, hell. “Sweetheart, did you remember to put on your gas mask this morning?”

  Seffy glanced up at him, her eyes luminous, her fingers very, very clever. She shook her head and wrinkled her nose slightly. “It smelled funny.”

  He gave a half-laugh, “Yeah, that's the uh...latex.” Oh, Lord, she was under the influence and there was no cop around to issue a DUI. “Maybe you should go back to your room and rest awhile.”

  “I don't feel like resting.” Her hands traveled up his chest to the back of his neck—leaving a trail of hail-sized goosebumps. She tugged his head down. “I feel like...this.”

  When her lips touched his, Trent was lost. The mixture of tentative aggression sent him into a tailspin of desire. He hauled her against him and kissed her back, reveling in the softness of her hair, the pliancy of her body—the notion that after all, she wanted him.

  Seffy edged him around, nudging him toward the bed. When his legs hit the side, he sat down hard on the mattress. She stood between his thighs, pushing his shirt from his shoulders.

  Trent was suddenly reminded of her same posture with Gareth the day before. The image cooled his ardor a bit—until she leaned down and kissed him again. Her lips teased his, then fulfilled their promise, until everything else was eclipsed by the scent of her, the feel of her bearing down on him.

  Before he knew it, he was on his back. As she climbed over him, straddling his waist, Trent struggled to come to the surface a little, to think this through. Like, why would the compound pump libido-inducing substances through the air unless they were hoping for a population explosion? Or did the drug simply reduce inhibitions thereby allowing Seffy to explore her true feelings for him?

  Except he knew her true feelings for him. Ambivalence with a side of leave-me-alone.

  But dammit if his train of thought went off the rails when she bent over and began a path of kisses along his throat before returning to his mouth. Seffy raised her head and gazed at him, her chest heaving, her face flushed. Suddenly she reached for the hem of her top and tugged it upward.

  Trent's gaze traveled from her exposed stomach, to her ribcage...to his hands gripping her wrists, stopping her cold. With impending feelings of regret, he lowered her hands and gently pushed her off of him. He faced her, seriously questioning his sanity. He'd even promised himself that if she ever ended up in his lap again, he would kiss reason goodbye and happily accept what she offered.

  Seffy touched his face, her gaze beseeching. “Make love to me, Trent.”

  And here was his chance.

  Her hoarse whisper nearly crumbled his pathetic attempt at nobility. At least she got the name right. Trent took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, wondering how he had the strength to resist. “Not like this, Sef.”

  She blinked. “Like what?”

  “You're under the spell of the happy air complements of the compound, and hell hath no fury like a woman who finds out she's been taken advantage of.”

  Seffy pushed her hair back from her face, her expression troubled. “Don't you want me?”

  He gave a choked laugh. “When you're off the juice, babe, come back and find out just how much I want you.”

  Her eyes darkened, but not with passion. Seffy scooted off the the bed, clearly offended, and headed back to her room. When he was alone, Trent flopped back onto the mattress and decided he was the one out of his friggin' mind.

  ***

  Seffy stole Trent's hot plate and hid out in the pantry next to an outlet for the following two days. It was the only place she could think to go where he wouldn't look for her. Except now, sans hotplate, he might have an inkling.

  Was that subliminal? Did she want to be found?

  No, I just want something besides canned fruit. Seffy sipped generic beef vegetable soup and tried not to grimace. She'd done far too much grimacing these last few days. Namely due to her little Trent experiment that ended up biting her in the hiney. She couldn't honestly say whether or not she would've gone through what she'd started in his lap. On some level, she knew he would stop her. And on another level, she knew her shirt was about to come off.

  She didn't even know why she'd done it. It had seemed important at the time. Seffy had stared at the gas mask for a long time the night before, considering her options. Get juiced and find Gareth? Get juiced and go to Trent? Or let Trent think she was juiced.

  In the end, she'd put on the stupid mask until the appointed time. Then her footsteps had led her to Trent's room of their own volition. Maybe she'd been testing herself more than Trent. But to what end? Especially when renewed romance with Gareth beckoned?

  All questions and no answers.

  The walkie crackled to life. “Sef?”

  Seffy sighed and picked it up. She pressed the button on the side. “What?”

  “When are you going to tell me where you are?”

  “Not today.”

  “Why do I have to spend so much time looking for you?”

  She ignored the little rush of pleasure at his words. “You don't have to spend one minute looking for me.”

  “I just want to make sure you're safe.”

  “I'm safe. Besides, you said the little tyrant is having all the bad guys rounded up, so I'm staying out of the way.”

  “We could stay out of the way in the Light Room.”

  Seffy lowered her voice. “At least one of them already knew about that place.”

  A sigh. “That's right. Sorry. Forgot about that.”

  She wondered how the person had found it in the first place. Had they been followed at one point? What was in the room beneath them? Maybe someone could listen in? She shuddered at the ramifications.

  If it had been Brenda who choked her, perhaps the knowledge of the room had died with her. Seffy grimaced, wondering how she'd become so comfortable with death.

  “Well, tomorrow is the last day they're using the 'treatment',” Trent said, “so it's time to be on your toes.”

  Seffy clutched her can of soup. Time to start looking over her shoulder again. Yay. And time to go back to all the awkwardness with her friends. Not so yay.

  “You need
to come back to your room so I can keep an eye on you.”

  Her mouth twitched. “You know Trent, I've totally grown as a person through this time, and I'm self-sufficient now. I'm all islandy and...rocky. I don't need your help or anyone else's.”

  He laughed. “Babe, you know the real reason you're avoiding me is because of what happened the other day.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, her voice a trifle shrill. “I told you the 'treatment' must've erased my memory.”

  He laughed again, causing a reluctant smile.

  “You remember every delicious second of it, just like I do. But don't worry, I still respect you.”

  “Gah!” Seffy switched off the unit and shoved it into her pocket. She looked at the collection of empty cans piling up in one corner. At least she'd been getting three pressurized squares a day. That was some improvement. In the evenings, she'd been hanging with her friends, getting nostalgic for the good ol' days which were about six months prior to arriving at the compound. Sometimes the conversation drifted to the marching band days, but Seffy continually brought it back to the present—2006 that is.

  Aside from lingering looks and touches, Seffy had maintained a certain amount of distance from Gareth. If he acted the same melty way after the aerated drugs, then maybe they'd have something to talk about.

  A vision of Trent's expression when she'd begun pulling off her shirt interrupted her train of thought.

  Maybe.

  At any rate, tonight was her last night with the Apocalypse Babes, old school.

  Damn. She didn't want to go back to reality. It was nice pretending she and Addison weren't on the outs. And it was nice pretending Gareth was a little bit in love with her. What did she have to look forward to once that was gone? Assassins slipping through time, out to kill her and those she cared about? More bitchy plots from Fiona?

  And Trent.

  No, she wasn't thinking about Trent right now.

  Seffy finished her soup and unplugged the hotplate. If she kept eating at this rate, soon she'd have to move up to her larger Juicy Couture tracksuit. And for once, that wasn't a bad thing. After all, Trent had expressed he'd like to see her back to her usual curves.