Death Blinks by Tamara Rose Blodgett

Author:Tamara Rose Blodgett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tamara Rose Blodgett
Published: 2018-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Deegan

“There's a lot more to the equation than some other-world nookie.” Gramps cups his chin, and Kim, their healer-slash-jailor, smiles. This is so many shades of weird, I don't think we're on the same planet.

Oh yeah, we're not. I groan.

Dad slaps his forehead.

“For instance,” Gramps goes on, seemingly oblivious to my parentsʼ lack of enthusiasm with his need to explain, “we need grub, drink, and rest. Not in that order. I feel like I've been squirted through spin cycle.”

Blank looks meet his words. Then it comes to me—those old-fashioned washing machine things. Dad told me they were still handwashing when he was my age. Seems beyond dumb now.

“We still use those here,” Kim says.

Grampsʼs face whips to her. “God love ya.”

She smiles again.

Hmm.

He snaps his fingers. “Can we get to your house easily?”

“Undetected,” Uncle John adds.

Gramps scowls at John. “Right, big for britches.”

John sighs. “Someone has to err on the side of logic, Mac.”

“That's me—so illogical.” Grampsʼs scowl turns to a glare that he directs at John.

I bristle. Gramps has single-handedly saved our skins. At least, that's how he would say it.

Everyone's just grouchy.

I could use some food. My stomach takes that opportunity to voice its emptiness.

Mitchell raises an eyebrow at the sound.

Gah. I hate being me. On my period, in the stupid bot world, talking about having sex to get pregnant.

In front of my parents.

Could anything epic and spectacular happen? Probably not.

“If I don't eventually shift planets, Brad will find me.” Kim's serious enormous brown eyes move over the small knot of us.

She's kind of pretty in an old-girl, doe-eyed way. I look at Gramps. He thinks so. Ick.

“We call it blinking,” Pax says.

Kim doesn't seem to care about the difference in terminology. “If I don't escape in a really permanent way, he'll make an example out of me, and Clem will allow it. They're very big on control.”

I can tell. Brad was big on control in our world. Now we accidentally moved him to one where he and his tyrant dad can have unlimited dominance.

“Let's shelve the breeding commentary for the moment,” Jonesy says, holding up a surprisingly pink palm in contrast with his dark-brown skin.

Sophie gives a disgruntled squeak, and he ignores her. “Mac's plan rocked. We head to Kim's hood and get some chow, drink beer.” Jonesy gives a casual lift of his shoulder.

“No.” Mom's flat voice echoes the stance of her crossed arms and tapping foot. She's hard to take seriously with the lips all over her legs.

Jonesy blows out an exasperated exhale. “Right. I'll drink beer.” He waggles his brows. “And catch some shut-eye. After I've gotten sufficient beauty rest, I'm ready for the beat-down back home. You guys feel me?” He rubs the middle of a super-toned chest.

And I'm underage?

“I actually don't have beer,” Kim mentions.

Jonesy frowns as though he’d never imagined she might lack beer. “Well, that blows. What about other booze?”

Kim's brows fold between her eyes.

“Jones,” Dad pleads.

“Joy-sucks,” Jonesy mutters.

“Joy-what?” Kim and Ron repeat (Ron's version is unintelligible).

“Where is your domicile?” Clyde asks smoothly.

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