Much to Layla’s relief, Enki returned a few minutes later, materializing out of the shadows like a wraith. If she had to guess what he did for a living, she would put her money on spy or assassin, because he moved so damn quietly and quickly.

It freaked her out a little bit.

As she caught sight of him, Layla nearly had a mini heart attack, because suddenly, he looked like one of them.

Fear clutched at her insides as she absorbed his transformation. Enki had ditched the plain grey suit in favor of a Kordolian military uniform that looked suspiciously like the exact same one Captain Pradon had been wearing. If it was Pradon’s uniform, the jet-black fabric would hide any bloodstains.

Weapons had materialized out of nowhere; a long sword hung at his waist, and two sleek black guns were holstered within easy reach at each side. He was actually very well armed.

As Enki strode toward her, Layla couldn’t help but remember the way she’d been treated by Pradon and his crew. The memories were so fresh in her mind that she involuntarily flinched. If anything, Enki looked a thousand times more dangerous and intimidating in that uniform than Pradon had. There was a sharpness about him; a sense that he could kill you in the blink of an eye if you crossed him.

“Why are you wearing that?” she asked nervously, not liking his silence, not liking the fierceness in his gaze. Why had he left so suddenly, only to return looking like some goddamn amber-eyed terror from the old Kordolian Empire?

Had she upset him somehow?

“Get dressed.” Enki thrust a pile of fabric at her, and Layla realized it was the grey jumpsuit thing he’d been wearing just a moment ago. “Now that you’re healed, we’re going to escape.” As he glanced down at his own clothes, a look of distaste crossed his stern features. “I hate this uniform, but it may serve to buy us some time and sow confusion amongst our enemies.”

Layla gingerly took the grey ball of fabric, still staring at Enki in his military uniform as relief coursed through her. He isn’t one of them. He’s just using the uniform as a disguise. She kept repeating the words in her mind like a mantra, because that was the only way for her to keep sane.

“I would have brought you something closer to your size, but there was nothing that wasn’t soaked in blood.”

His words sent a chill through Layla, until it occurred to her that he was actually being… considerate. She waved her hand, trying to make out like it was no big deal. “I’m in dire need of a shower, anyway. Is it too much for a girl to hope there are hot showers onboard wherever we’re going?”

“It is not too much to hope.” Enki frowned, and for a split-second, his eyes dropped to her bare chest. Layla couldn’t put her finger on it, but during the short time they’d been together in here, something had changed.

The way he’d looked at her just now… it made heat rise in her cheeks, and suddenly she was acutely aware of her state of undress.

Layla wasn’t particularly modest when it came to her body—it was impossible to be when her life had been VR-streamed to billions of viewers all over Earth—but now she felt exposed, wary, and a little bit curious.

What did he think of her? As an alien, did he find her strange, awkward, ugly? Did he think she was weak?

Feeling self-conscious, Layla jumped off the seat and quickly pulled on the grey uniform, tugging it over her leggings. It swamped her, the sleeves and legs flopping past her hands and feet.

All the while, Enki stared at her, his expression unreadable, looking like the Empire’s dark enforcer in that sharply tailored uniform. As intimidating as he looked, she had to admit the outfit suited him terribly well, even if it was a little tight around the shoulders.

He and the late Pradon were of a similar size, except Enki was broader in the shoulders and narrower in the waist.

Lean, powerful, and perfectly proportioned.

He had the body of a natural fighter, and he moved like a great big fucking hunting cat.

And stars, he was handsome.

Really, who the hell was this guy?

Enki made a soft sound of disapproval in his throat. “You can’t move properly like that.”

Before she realized what he was doing, Enki dropped to one knee and quickly slashed the long cuffs of her trousers with a short, slender blade that appeared out of nowhere. He rose in a single fluid motion and did the same with her sleeves, making a neat cut across the dark fabric that left her with the perfect length. Being space-age Kordolian super-fabric, the material didn’t fray or tear or look jagged. There was no need for hemming. She was left with a baggy and rather comfortable garment that allowed for surprising ease of movement.

And it covered her boobs.

There was that.

As Enki let go of her wrists, his thumbs brushed against Layla’s palms. That simple gesture blew her mind, because it was careful and precise and yet gentle, sending a pleasant shudder down her spine.

“Better,” he said, seeming mighty pleased with his handiwork. “You need boots, too. We will pick some up on the way out.”

“So we’re just going to walk right on out of here and nobody’s going to notice? Isn’t there some sort of security monitoring or surveillance?”

“It is a vast ship. The sylth can detect intruders by their biosig, but I am not one, and you would have been marked and processed when you entered.”

Not an intruder… now she was beyond confused.

As they moved back into the big chamber where the stasis tanks were, Layla’s thoughts went round and round, but she couldn’t make sense of Enki’s words. All she could do was follow him, because he’d done nothing but good things for her so far.

He’d killed the soldiers, healed her, found her clothes, and most importantly, he’d come for her.

No matter how severe and scary and violent and Kordolian he might be, he’d kept his word.

“Wait.” Enki bent down and retrieved a pair of long boots from one of the fallen soldiers, inspecting them carefully before handing them to her. “They might be a little big—”

“Perfect. I have big feet. Apparently, that’s why I’m a good swimmer.” She sniffed dramatically, making a mocking face. “Do Kordolians get foot rot like humans? Not that it really matters. I’ve walked through enough crap and gunk already.” Layla didn’t really know why she was babbling like an idiot. Maybe it was because it was the only way for her to hold onto her sanity while she put on a dead man’s boots next to the other man she’d just killed, while the dead women from the Malachi looked on from their glowing blue tanks, their eyes blank and half-open.

I’m sorry. I have to leave you now.

A pang of sadness hit her right in the chest. She’d barely known the women, but they were her fellow humans, and when they’d boarded the Malachi, they’d probably just been trying to do the same as her—escape.

Everybody who left Earth had their reasons.

She turned to Enki, wriggling her feet inside the repurposed boots, which were surprisingly comfy. “These are fine. I’m ready to—”

But Enki wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was staring at the women in the tanks, a blank look on his face. He was as still as a statue; it was as if he’d been hypnotized.

And his eyes… they were no longer amber.

They were a vivid shade of green, the color of emeralds, and they glowed.

Layla had never seen glowing eyes on any creature before. Enki’s sudden transformation made her skin crawl, because he looked so unnatural, like something out of an old paranormal horror movie.

“Enki,” she said softly. “Are you all right?”

No response.

“Enki,” she said again, more forcefully this time.

Still no response.

“Okay, now you’re officially freaking me out.” Not knowing what else to do, Layla moved to his side and reached out, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Enki!” She shook him.

Suddenly, his hand was on her chest, pushing her back with impossible force. Her feet were swept our from under her, and Layla found herself lying on the floor, flat on her back.

Enki loomed over her, one hand tightening around her neck, the other holding a small blade against her throat.

And his eyes still glowed that unholy shade of green.

“E-Enki,” she wheezed, struggling to speak with his hand clamped around her throat. Terrible memories rushed through her mind—the way Damien used to do exactly the same thing to her, the Kordolian soldiers throwing her to the ground with such careless brutality, that deranged medic throwing her into the darkness, pushing her down, tearing through her skin with his vicious claws…

Enki was far more powerful than any of them.

“S-stop,” Layla pleaded, knowing this wasn’t him, because the Enki she knew hadn’t gone to all the trouble of rescuing her and healing her just so he could fucking choke her to death.

Layla couldn’t move. Fear returned in a paralyzing torrent, but then her desperation broke through and she took a deep breath. “Enki!” she shouted. “I’m not your fucking enemy!”

Stop.

Just stop.

To her relief, he relented, his hand trembling as he slowly pulled the knife away, as if he were fighting against some great invisible force. A storm broke across his face, and his features twisted into an expression of such perfect anguish that Layla suddenly wanted to put her arms around him.

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.