Shattered Silence

by Anna Carven

  How insane.

  A lethal alien held a knife to her throat, and she wanted to comfort him.

  For fuck’s sake. What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be terrified right about now?

  As quickly as it had appeared, the green glow faded from Enki’s eyes. He blinked once, then shook his head sharply and pulled the knife away from her throat.

  The blade became a dark blur as it disappeared to some hidden place on his body. His chest moved up and down in an uneven rhythm, and Layla was so close she noticed the hitch in his breathing as he swallowed.

  As if she were poison, he leapt up off her, getting back on his feet in an instant, and for the very first time, Layla saw the chink in his perfect armor.

  What the hell just happened?

  It occurred to her that Enki was a man with baggage, and she had no idea how deep his problems went.

  Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in and offered her his hand. “I am sorry,” he rasped. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”

  Layla’s thoughts whirled as she stared up at the mysterious warrior, trying to read him.

  As usual, she couldn’t. The mask had slipped back into place, and he was back to his usual self—mostly. Layla had a hundred and one questions, but she didn’t dare disturb this delicate peace. Instead, she reached out, placing her trembling fingers into his warm hand.

  Warm. Despite his cold, severe appearance, he always felt warm.

  “I know that,” she said slowly. “You’re not that type.”

  Enki curled his fingers around hers and effortlessly pulled her to her feet, making her feel as light as a feather. Stars, he was strong.

  “If that happens again, don’t approach me like that.” He didn’t let go of her just yet; he kept his palm pressed against hers, his thumb curled around hers, his fingers wrapped around the back of her hand. Unbreakable, yet gentle. The hand that was wrapped around her throat only seconds ago. “Just keep your distance until it passes.”

  “It?”

  “You’ve seen it.” Slowly, he released her and turned away. “I promise you, I will never let it take over. But sometimes, I just need a little time to… tame it.”

  “It made you do that?”

  “No. The actions were my own. My consciousness was submerged, and your approach caught me off-guard, so my training kicked in.”

  “Remind me not to ever sneak up on you when you’re asleep.” Layla shuddered as she realized just how close she’d come to getting killed. What kind of job required a man to have such hair-trigger reflexes? To kill without a second thought?

  “That would never happen.” Enki began to walk, beckoning for Layla to follow as he traversed around the dead bodies on the floor. “Come. We must go. Keep your head down. If we encounter anybody, do not engage. Do not look them in the eye. Let me do all the talking.”

  “You haven’t told me exactly how you plan to get us out of here.” Layla did not understand how one simply exited a massive Kordolian warship, but if anyone could do it, it was Enki.

  The ultimate badass. The only person in the Universe who could get her off this ship. What were the fucking chances? Layla didn’t really believe in fate, but she was beginning to feel that perhaps a higher power had sent him to her.

  “Layla, there is no time to explain. Just trust me on this.” He looked over his shoulder at her, and this time, his gaze was reassuringly amber. “I am going to get you out of here.”

  Even though he’d just had her underneath him—had almost killed her—Layla believed him with all her heart.

  And what happens once we escape?

  Layla decided to worry about that after the fact. Hell; at this point, she would gladly settle for returning to Earth.

  Suddenly, the old blue-white-and-green looked like paradise again, and after what she’d been through these last few weeks, there was nothing humans could throw at her that she couldn’t handle.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Enki slammed down the barriers inside his mind, using the technique he’d been taught by the Silent One. Fury and revulsion washed over him as he realized how close he’d come to…

  Losing control.

  It wasn’t the Tharian’s doing. It was just the fact that whenever Enki was caught unaware, his hard-wired training kicked in.

  And he’d definitely been caught unaware.

  What in Kaiin’s Hells just happened?

  He’d been watching Layla put on her boots, his attention completely captured as he took in her graceful form. Even the too-big maintenance worker’s suit looked good on her lithe, long-limbed body, and he’d idly wondered how she would look in a fine Kordolian kashkan. As she bent over, her long black hair fell around her face, revealing the slender curve of her neck.

  He caught a hint of something fragrant wafting from the dark curtain of her hair; a scent that reminded him of the poisonous but devastatingly beautiful night-flowers on Tharos.

  With his senses swamped by her presence, the slightest of cracks began to appear in Enki’s self-control. That’s when he felt the passenger tug at his will, directing his attention to the dead humans suspended in the stasis tanks. For whatever reason, the Tharian was drawn to them.

  The intensity of the Tharian’s fascination with the humans had taken him by surprise, and once again, Enki had found himself locked in a battle of wills as the Tharian tried to pull him toward the tanks. Enki had fought to regain control, and that’s when Layla had put her hand on his shoulder.

  Triggering his instinctive reaction—to kill.

  And everything had gone to shit.

  When Enki finally regained his senses and snapped out his dark trance, Layla didn’t complain, even though her fear was obvious.

  “You’re not that type,” she’d told him instead, appearing to dissect his truth in an instant.

  How could she understand so much when she knew nothing about him, when she wasn’t even Kordolian?

  How could she endure so much without complaint?

  She didn’t complain about wearing the boots of a dead man or that her hair was matted in places with dried blood—hers or Mirkel’s, he couldn’t tell. She didn’t complain even though she was still in pain—he could tell by the way she favored her left side ever so slightly.

  She didn’t complain when he made her walk behind him as if she were just a weak, inferior human, even though she was anything but.

  They strode out of the medical bay, and Enki led her down the long dark corridor, walking briskly. He adopted the demeanor of an Imperial captain, trying to look as haughty as possible. He made his footsteps noisy on purpose, a surprisingly difficult feat for someone who was used to walking without a sound.

  So far, so good.

  In this massive battle-cruiser, it wasn’t unusual for the corridors to be empty. Even Silence had its quiet times, when personnel were on their dedicated rest periods, or all maintenance and training tasks had been completed.

  But the fact that nobody had come to check on Mirkel and his guard-squadron made Enki a little uneasy. Surely the sylth’s surveillance sensors would have picked up some sort of disturbance; he’d been expecting to kill many more of Daegan’s soldiers before reaching the docking bay.

  Maybe he was just being his usual paranoid self, but this silence could almost be considered suspicious.

  Never mind; they had to keep moving, and if a problem came up, Enki would simply deal with it.

  Just keep moving. It was all they could do now. As long as the fucking Tharian didn’t interfere again, Enki was supremely confident in his ability to fight off Daegan’s men and keep Layla safe.

  In the old Empire, the highborn Kordolians that made up Daegan’s ranks were almost always assigned the soft missions; the cruisy postings in the inner sectors, the secure assignments on planets that were already colonized. Those missions kept their stats up and their egos stoked, and Daegan’s soldiers were always happy to leave the real grunt work to General Akkadia
n and the warriors under his command. They hadn’t fought the dirty battles in the outer sectors, hadn’t faced opponents where the slightest lapse in concentration would mean certain death.

  Being First Division, Enki and his brothers were given the dirty work; the worst of the worst.

  And Enki knew every single dirty trick in the book.

  Back there in Mirkel’s chambers, he’d taken out that squadron in the blink of an eye. They hadn’t even sensed him until it was too late.

  That’s why he wasn’t being overly cautious. Instead, he walked as quickly as possible, trying to make up for lost time, trying to take advantage of their clear path… until he realized that Layla was starting to fall further and further behind.

  “What’s wrong?” he said softly, keeping an ear out for enemies.

  “It’s dark,” she whispered, and Enki cursed softly as he realized he’d forgotten that human dark-vision was extremely poor.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Enki was mildly irritated—more at himself than at Layla.

  “I thought I could follow the sound of your footsteps, but you’re doing that thing again.”

  “Thing?”

  “That thing. You move like a fucking ghost.”

  “Sorry.” Never before had Enki felt compelled to apologize for his hard-won skills, but now he did. “I don’t carry a light-source.”

  “Figures.”

  This was a stupid problem. How could such a simple difference between species—the ability to see in the dark—become such a pain-in-the-ass? At least on Silence, there were enough monitor and indicator lights dotted along the corridors to allow humans to get by, but from what Lodan had told him, the Ristval V hadn’t received nearly the same amount of modification as Silence.

  The General was constantly upgrading, refitting, enhancing. He was rather obsessive about it.

  Enki contemplated carrying Layla in his arms and making a run for it, but that probably wasn’t a good idea, because he had to go in front. If they suddenly encountered an enemy, the time it took to put her down and behind him could mean the difference between life and death for her.

  All it took was a single plasma blast.

  Humans were too fragile.

  I could…

  What do you want? He roared at the Tharian in his mind, allowing his fury to spill over. Because of you, I almost…

  I could give you light.

  You just don’t know when to stop, do you?

  “Just try to make some noise when you walk.” Layla’s soft voice cut through Enki’s mental chaos, wrapping around him and pulling him into a state of calm. “I’ve got the hang of it now. All I have to do is trail my hand along the wall.”

  “Ah. I will do that.”

  “Being noisy ain’t your thing, is it?”

  “My job requires a certain amount of stealth.”

  Layla was silent for a moment. Enki couldn’t help it—he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of her curious, penetrating gaze. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing her perfectly imperfect teeth. “And what job would that be?” she asked, going perfectly still.

  Enki thought about it for a moment. Colonizer. Enforcer. Killer. Protector. Host. The last one filled him with anger and disgust.

  “Mercenary,” he said at last, and for some reason, his answer made Layla breathe a soft sigh of relief. “Except this particular job, I’m doing for free. Now let’s go. From now on, if there’s a problem, you tell me.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and it warmed his dark heart to hear the note of amusement in her voice.

  It was a tiny flicker of life in a sea of death and destruction, and he found himself impossibly drawn to it—drawn to her.

  How is this possible?

  Because he’d been stuck inside his head with the cursed Tharian for far too long. Because he’d forgotten there was more to existence than missions and violence and killing.

  Because he’d been slowly slipping into the realm of madness, and he’d forgotten what beauty looked like.

  And now he was at risk of falling into another kind of insanity, the kind he never thought he would catch.

  Not now. Enki steeled himself, shutting down his feverish thoughts before they could take root. Forward. Keep moving. Get her off this cursed ship.

  He didn’t mention anything to Layla about the impenetrable silence, which extended down the corridor as far as he could hear. Silence was usually Enki’s best friend, but now the absence of activity on the middle decks made him wary.

  His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the familiar sound of metal-on-metal.

  Footsteps.

  Coming from in front and behind. He extended his senses and counted at least a dozen men bearing down upon them from each side.

  A trap.

  Metal-on-metal footsteps meant only one thing. These soldiers were wearing full exo-armor. Daegan had sent his elites, an entire Division of them.

  That meant they’d figured out what Enki was, because only a First Division warrior could inspire such extreme measures. Something he’d done in the medical bay must have triggered the surveillance systems.

  He should be flattered, but Enki was frantic. Layla was terribly exposed.

  “Stop,” he whispered, holding out his hand to steady her as she walked straight into him. Her bare hands pressed up against his chest as she tried to gather her bearings.

  Layla froze. “What’s—”

  “Shh.” He put a finger to her lips. A torrent of possibilities ran through his mind as he considered his options and tried to settle on the most logical course of action—the way he’d been trained.

  But the most logical course wasn’t possible, because of Layla. Enki’s usual strategy—kill everything in sight—wasn’t going to work this time.

  “We’re going down,” he said instead, and Layla’s features twisted into the perfect picture of confusion as he drew his long sword in the darkness.

  Her hands were still pressed against his chest. It appeared she found some sort of security in his presence, and that made him feel like… like he wanted to live up to her expectations of him, even if they were just idealistic human notions.

  Kaiin’s Hells. What was this unholy hold she’d gotten over him? It occurred to Enki that the one thing he’d sworn he would never succumb to—the divine madness that had struck the General first, then Kalan, Kail, Rykal, and now his friend Torin—might actually be happening to him. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe the Tharian was right.

  But now was not the time to be dwelling on such things.

  Enki gently removed Layla’s hands from his chest, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

  Shit, he didn’t know how to behave around humans.

  The footsteps were louder now, faster. They were running.

  “Time to go,” he whispered, dropping to one knee. “Stay right there and don’t move. This won’t take long.” He began sawing, his arms straining as he pushed the ultraforged blade through the very bones of the ship itself. At the same time, he activated his comm, reaching through the vacuum of space to his brothers on the Virdan X. “Cover’s blown,” he grunted.

  “That didn’t take long,” Nythian drawled, sounding completely unsurprised. “You got the prize?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m coming in.” The eagerness in Nythian’s voice earned a snort from Enki. The big warrior was addicted to brawling. He liked his fights loud and messy; stealth wasn’t exactly his strong point. “No need for subtlety anymore. Which docking bay are you heading out of?”

  “Lower.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The comm went silent. Behind him, Layla shifted on her feet. “Enki, I’m terrified, and I have no idea what you’re doing right now, but somehow, I trust you.”

  “That is the correct answer.” He smashed his fist into the center of the circle he’d just carved out of the floor.

  Boom.

  The dark c
ore fell away, leaving a two-person-sized hole. Faint blue light emanated from below, allowing Layla to see.

  “Holy moly,” she whispered, peering through the hole, then staring at Enki with barely concealed surprise. “You weren’t joking when you said you would get me out of here.”

  “I never joke,” Enki said solemnly as he sheathed his sword. The quiet patter of footsteps invaded his senses. Daegan’s warriors were almost upon them, slowing down in a clumsy attempt to be stealthy.

  But their exo-armor wasn’t bonded to their bodies, and they lacked the fluidity of movement that came so naturally to Enki and his brothers.

  Didn’t they realize? Enki had heard their movements from a long way off. As the soldiers caught sight of Enki and Layla, he shot them a threatening glare, wrapped one arm around her waist and stepped through the hole, drawing his plasma gun.

  Blamblamblam!

  As they hit the ground, he fired through the hole, a warning to any who thought to follow. A soldier fell through, hitting the floor with an unsavory thud.

  Dead.

  Layla gasped, then swore under her breath in her native tongue.

  “Layla,” he said quietly, uttering the words he never thought he’d have to say to anyone, “I need your help.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Enki didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. If his mental map of the Ristval V served him correctly, they were three levels above the lower docking bay, where an array of escape-vessels were his for the taking.

  Cut your way through the entire ship?

  In the end, the solution was ridiculously simple.

  Why not? It was the quickest and most direct route. He should have done this from the very beginning, instead of trying all that subterfuge nonsense with the fucking Imperial uniform.

  How foolish he was to believe he could have fooled them, could have slipped Layla out of here undetected. Perhaps too many easy kills had made him arrogant.

  Enki fired a few more rounds of plasma into the hole, hoping to make the soldiers above hesitate. Terse voices drifted to him, and he heard someone order several of the soldiers to run down to the lower level.