by Anna Carven
Enki wasn’t interested in pleasantries. I want to bargain.
Bargain? The Tharian sounded genuinely surprised. What could you possibly want from me, oh mighty one?
Enki ignored the sarcasm. Slowly, carefully, he let his guard down, just a little. It was the first time he had ever done so, and it was hard, especially with this cursed mating fever coursing through his body. Being in control was much easier than letting go, but he had to do this. He extended his senses into the underwater silence, trying to draw the stillness into his restless soul. I… I have a request to make of you. In return, I will grant you a request of your own.
Anything?
I do not lie, Tharian. If it is within my power, I will grant it to you, but first, you must do as I command.
I… will consider. To his surprise, the Tharian was receptive. What is it you require of me?
I need you to submerge.
To…
Submerge. Disappear. Give me a moment of peace. I am tired of your incessant interruptions. I am about to do something very important, and you are not to emerge until I give you permission. Do not interrupt.
I understand. The Tharian radiated amusement. You are besotted with her, aren’t you? You want me to give you some privacy while you—
I do not need your analysis, Tharian. Do you agree to my terms?
I really do not have a choice, do I?
Enki waited. He had nothing more to say. All he could do was wait for the Tharian to come to its senses.
I will sleep, it said finally. You do not need to worry, Kordolian. I have no desire to be a witness to your intimacy. But let’s be clear. I do this for her sake, not yours.
Then you will withdraw.
But you will grant me one request.
One, Tharian. Just one.
That is all I need. It sighed. I have been stuck inside your deranged mind for too long, warrior. It’s time I tried to find a way out.
Why have you persisted with this madness for so long? Why don’t you just leave?
You don’t understand anything about our biology, shadowkin. If I had a choice, I would have been free of you a long time ago, but then you just had to go and eat my cursed blue heart, didn’t you?
Enough. Leave me. Enki slammed down the barriers inside his mind with such brutality that the Tharian actually shrieked. He had no desire to be reminded of the horrors of Tharos right now, not when he was so close to losing control.
He just hoped the Tharian understood exactly what he wanted it to do, because he was on the very precipice of the most important moment in his existence. When he claimed her, nothing else would matter. Not his First Division training, or his tainted blood, or the horrors he’d seen on Tharos. He would forget the suppression techniques taught to him by the Silent One and let go of his icy self-control.
That was the only way he could be with her; the only way he wanted to be with her.
So the Tharian had to sleep, because Enki needed to be himself again.
After so many revolutions spent living a dull, colorless existence—where his own rigid self-control and the General’s commands and the familiar embrace of death and violence were the only things keeping him from pure insanity—who the fuck was he, really?
He opened his eyes, looking out upon stars that blurred and shimmered through the icy waters of the pool. Thoughts of Layla invaded his mind, consuming him, making his claws extend and his horn-bases ache.
His cock was hard again.
Enki pressed his feet against the clear bottom, kicked hard, and broke through the water’s surface, inhaling deeply. He swam to the edge and hauled himself out, the cold water sluicing off his body. He saw the stars again through the soaring windows above the pool, and this time they were sharp and bright, glittering like tiny gemstones as everything became clear.
His dark reality re-crystallized into something completely different, a world where Layla existed, and he was more than just a killer with tainted highborn blood running through his veins. He, who had never known loyalty to anyone but his brothers, was being pulled in an entirely different direction, like a planet whose orbit had just encountered another sun.
He took a deep breath. You be quiet now, Tharian. I need you to do this for me. He, who never asked for anything, practically begged the Tharian to be quiet.
Silence.
He took that as a yes.
Enki slipped his kashkan over his shoulders and ran a hand through his wet hair as he stalked out of the pool chamber, heading for the med-bay, where Zharek al Sirian would return his Layla to him in perfect health, or else.
The cold dip in the pool had done nothing to ease his raging arousal, but at least it had solved the problem of the passenger inside his head—for now.
He would deal with the rest later—after he had claimed his mate.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Don’t worry, Layla. I have given myself an extensive education on the wonders of human anatomy, and your injuries are fairly easy to treat. I have to say, the evolutionary path your species has taken is fascinating. I often think of Kythia as a parallel dimension to Earth, only Earth kept her sun, and ours died. You know, technically, you and I belong to the same species, although I wouldn’t want to upset the purists by starting that particular discussion.” The medic, who Abbey had introduced as Zharek, leaned in close and tapped her on the shoulder in a conspiratorial manner. “We’re a hundred orbits too early for that sort of enlightenment.”
“Three months,” Abbey said, rolling her eyes. “That’s how long it took him to study for and pass the Federation medical licensing exams. Technically, he’s a fully qualified Earth doctor. Isn’t that a scary thought?” She stood beside Layla with her arms crossed, watching Zharek like a hawk. There was an air of protectiveness about her, which Layla appreciated, even though she could damn well handle this strange medic on her own.
“Zyara did it in two.” Zharek’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “I got myself a specialization, too. Certified anesthesiologist, apparently. It’s good to be in control, you know?”
“Freak,” Abbey mouthed. She seemed to take a particular delight in teasing the strange medic, in a way that reminded Layla of bickering siblings.
Huh. Strange.
Layla stared at the medic, unable to tell whether he was being serious or floridly sarcastic. Zharek was a striking looking character. With his long black-streaked hair in its high topknot, flowing blue robes, and curving black horns, he reminded her more of a music hyperstar than a medic. Layla had associated with more than her fair share of celebrities when she’d lived on Earth, and she got the feeling Zharek would fit right in amongst the eccentric ultra-rich and ultra-famous.
He just had that sort of vibe about him; flamboyant, brilliant, slightly insane.
And by the way, he had horns. What the ever-loving hell? Why didn’t Enki have them? Maybe it was a variation amongst Kordolians, the way some humans had an extra rib.
“Will this take long?” She shifted in her seat, feeling a little nervous as she took in her surroundings. The medical bay was stocked with equipment and machines similar to the ones she’d seen in the mad scientist’s chambers, although Zharek’s domain had much better lighting, and a sort of lived-in, homely feel, judging from the worn Earth books and Kordolian parchment-things strewn all over the workspaces, along with half-eaten bars of mysterious Kordolian food lying in their wrappers.
“Human bodies might be easy to break, but they’re also easy to fix.” Zharek fiddled with various controls and monitors as he absorbed streams of data. “You have two broken ribs, a contusion to your spleen, and extensive bruising across your back. Nothing life-threatening, but you must feel like shit walking around like this. Impressive that you managed to escape from the Rist with nothing more than minor injuries. Those people can be needlessly vicious. So crass.” He made a face. “Relax, Layla Rose. In a moment, I’ll make you forget your pain ever existed.”
Layla sighed, trying to force the t
ension out of her body. “The last time I was sitting in a chair like this, I was scared shitless with my skin torn to shreds by Kordolian claws. Then Enki used some sort of magical healing gel on me. Are you going to do something like that?”
“My treatment is much better. It’s purely experimental, although it really isn’t, because I know it works. You don’t mind, do you?” A pained expression crossed Zharek’s face. “Mirkel was such a deranged, sycophantic piece-of-shit. Thank you for killing him.”
“Huh.” Layla never expected to be thanked for killing a man. Her memories of that incident were a confused, bloody jumble that left her feeling numb.
“Zharek!” Abbey glared at the medic. “A little sensitivity, please.”
“Sorry. I really hated that bastard.” He fished around in a storage compartment and retrieved a floppy black device shaped like a star. It was about the size of Layla’s hand, and it glistened with moisture. She regarded it with suspicion, wondering how the heck a slimy black starfish would heal her broken ribs.
Abbey’s expression softened as she noticed the look on Layla’s face. “Zharek’s social skills need work, but he’s actually a genius and he knows what he’s doing. He looks after me and my family when we’re on the Fleet Station, so I can vouch for him.”
“Family? I don’t exactly do anything for that monstrous husband of yours, queen. He’s the last person who needs my skills.”
“And who made him that way?”
“Hmph.” Zharek went silent as he ran his thumbs over the gooey starfish, checking it for something or other. “He and I have worked out our differences.” A dark shadow crossed his face for a split-second, then it was gone, like a cloud scudding across the sun. He turned to Layla, changing the subject even as Layla wondered what kind of person Abbey’s husband was. He sounded just as formidable as Enki.
“I’m going to have to attach this to the side of your chest,” Zharek said softly, interrupting her musings. “It won’t hurt, and your injuries should be healed in less than thirty Earth minutes.”
“They had better be healed, medic.” Enki’s low growl came out of nowhere.
He’s here! Excitement fluttered through Layla’s heart, and suddenly, he was beside her, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder. “I will be the one to apply the patch.” As if he couldn’t stand the thought of another man laying his hands on her. “Is there anything else Layla needs to know?”
She glanced up and saw him in all his stern-faced Kordolian glory. He looked refreshed somehow; the shadows beneath his eyes were gone, and his gaze was sharp and clear. Layla caught a hint of his scent, which was crisp and pure, like a clear mountain stream in winter.
Perhaps he’d showered too. His snow-white hair was slightly damp, and Layla was overcome with the sudden urge to run her fingers through it. Her thoughts turned carnal as he overwhelmed all of her senses.
He heartbeat went crazy.
Heat filled her core. She could smell him, and she wanted to taste him.
“Ahem.” Zharek’s eyes went wide as he stared at his monitors, then at Layla’s face. Shit, could that thing detect her arousal? The medic meticulously avoided eye contact with Enki. “You know what to do, Enki. Just put it on the sore part. The nanites will repair all damaged tissue. I have to go and see to a certain delivery in the docking bay.”
Abbey glanced at a highly modified silver link-band on her wrist. “Oh, the little monster’s awake. I have to go too.” She beamed at Enki and Layla, hiding her mouth with one hand as she whispered, “get a room, you two.”
And just like that, she slipped out, leaving Layla and Enki alone in the med-bay. Enki moved so that he was standing in front of her, looking down at her face.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Layla forgot to breathe as she took in his hard, elegant features. It occurred to her that Enki and Zharek shared certain similarities in appearance. If the Kordolian race had different ethnic groups like humans, then those two would belong to the same one.
“The last time we did this, you were ogling my breasts,” she said dryly, attempting to diffuse the tension. “And I was a complete fucking mess.”
“Better now?” He took her hand, running the rough pads of his thumbs over her fingers. “You look rested. You look good.” His eyes narrowed. “But I do not ogle.”
His gentle touch sent ripples of goosebumps down her arms. “I feel so much better,” she murmured. “Being clean and well-fed does wonders for a battered soul… but if you weren’t ogling me, then what were you doing, Enki?”
“I was merely appreciating your sublime form.” Enki wasn’t the first man to admire her body, but he was the only man who could make her feel like this. He took a step forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, stroking the sides of her neck with his thumbs. “In truth, I was careless. I should have been more considerate when I first found you, but I am… unused to dealing with your kind.” His gaze dropped to the exposed strip of skin that extended from the base of her neck to her cleavage. He drank her in with his gaze. “I have no wish to know any other humans apart from you. You are everything I could hope for in a mate.”
Mate. The word struck Layla in her heart like a fucking Cupid’s arrow. Was this really happening? Was this fierce alien warrior staking his claim in such absolute terms?
Of course he was. A guy like Enki didn’t do things by halves. He was Kordolian.
“So what does it mean to be mated to a Kordolian?” Layla leaned into him as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. The pain in her ribs faded into the background, and she almost forgot she was in the medical bay.
“I will have to show you,” Enki said hoarsely. “But first, let me apply this cursed device to your body.” His hands slipped lower, his fingers brushing against the collar of her robe, which had been given to her by Abbey. It had to be an alien construction, because Layla had worn a lot of designer clothes in her lifetime, and she’d never come across a material quite as soft as this. Ending at her knees, the impossibly comfortable robe was a deep sage green, and it had a fabric belt that tied around her waist, much like a wrap dress.
Finally, she felt good, she smelled good, and the most impossibly handsome alien warrior was standing before her with smoldering heat in his amber gaze, and he was currently slipping his thumb beneath the edge of her robe, pulling it aside to reveal her chest. This time, her breasts were encased in a lacy cream colored bra. Layla had selected it from the wide range of clothing that had mysteriously appeared in the wardrobe of her newly-assigned quarters. Amazingly, the sizes were all correct. She suspected Abbey had a hand in that.
Apparently, anything and everything was available on the Fleet Station.
Enki ran his thumb over her pert nipple, which peeked through the delicate fabric. It stiffened instantly, and he growled in approval. The starfish patch-thing appeared in his hand. “This will adhere to your skin. Did Zharek explain how it works?”
“He kinda got interrupted.” Layla raised one eyebrow archly.
“That was for his own safety. I cannot stand the thought of another male putting his hands on you. Here.” Without hesitation, Enki pressed the black thing against her ribs, just below her breast. Warmth spread across her skin, seeping into her chest, her ribs, her stomach, her back.
And immediately, her pain disappeared.
“Wow.” It was as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. The complete absence of pain was accompanied by a feeling of euphoria; it had been so long since she’d felt like this. “That’s powerful.” Unlike the pain meds she’d been given after one of her many VR stunt injuries—the last time, when she’d broken her ankle, they’d had her on some nasty stuff called Neuranol—the black starfish didn’t make her feel drowsy or out of it. No, the euphoria was simply due to the fog of pain lifting, making her feel brand new.
She was floating.
She was high on Enki; on his intoxicating presence, on sheer desire stretched so taut it became an e
xquisite kind of pain, replacing her physical aches with a growing need.
And for the first time in years, she felt like a million fucking bucks.
“It is a construct made of nanites and biological substances, specifically tailored for humans. The nanites will move through your body, targeting specific cells and repairing any inflammation. They are drawn to damaged cells.” He raised an eyebrow as he noticed her surprise. “I made sure Zharek explained it to me in detail first. There is no way I would allow him to treat you without knowing exactly what he planned to do.”
“Are you always so hard on the people that work with you?”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Oh. So her rescuer and soon-to-be lover was a control freak when it came to her, but he didn’t seek to control her. Another cupid’s bolt slammed into her heart, its hooked tip driving deep into her soul. “To be honest, at this point I don’t really care how it works, as long as it works. I’m…”
Going crazy, in a good way.
She met his eyes and became entranced all over again.
He slipped his hand around her waist and lifted her out of the chair, earning a yelp of surprise from Layla. “We’re going to my quarters, now.” The barely suppressed growl in his voice revealed the hidden tension in his body. Lordy, if Layla felt like this now, then how much restraint had Enki been exercising this entire time?
Ever since they’d kissed in the airlock…
Sweet stars.
That level of self control was scary, but then again, what did one expect from a warrior whose abilities were so inhuman, so freakish, that he sometimes seemed more demon than man?
For Layla, who had serious trust issues, his approach was the only thing that could ever have worked. Back there in the airlock, or in his sleeping pod on the Virdan X, or even right here, right now… he could have taken her, and she would have been helpless to resist. He could have overpowered her so easily at any time, just like the Kordolians who had captured her, but he’d gone to great lengths to prove to her that he was different to them, and somehow, he’d known exactly what she needed.
