They stood in the center of Zharek’s lab, staring at the two human bodies that were suspended in separate blue-glowing stasis tubes. After her conversation with the Tharian, Layla had insisted on coming down here with Enki. He might be near-invincible, but still, she couldn’t help but worry about him, and as a human, she felt some sort of responsibility for these human bodies, which had been retrieved from the enemy warship and brought here to the Fleet Station.

The woman on the left had been the first person to greet Layla once they were all onboard the Malachi. “You escaping the dirty ol’ blue-and-green too?” she’d said with a sly wink. “I don’t blame you, honey. It’s a goddamn madhouse down there, and it’s only gonna get worse.”

A pang of sadness pierced Layla’s chest as she watched the woman’s body bob up and down, her long arms and legs swaying gently as some unseen current swirled through the stasis liquid. The woman’s skin appeared shiny and flawless like obsidian as the blue light reflected off it, casting an otherworldly pattern of light and shade that accentuated her toned physique. Zharek must have had some sort of respect for her modesty, because unlike in the mad scientist’s labs, when she’d been naked, she now wore a long, tight sheath-like garment that covered her body from the breasts down to the thighs. In death, she looked almost as regal and otherworldly as the Kordolians themselves.

The human on the right had shared her packet of delicious orbit-cakes with Layla as the Malachi prepared for departure. Now she hung in stasis, her brilliant blue eyes closed, her brown hair forming a wispy halo around her head. She looked strangely peaceful, almost as if she were just asleep.

If only that were the case.

How the mad scientist had managed to restore their bodies to such perfect condition, Layla would never know. When the Kordolians retrieved them, they’d been floating in the wrecked body of the Malachi, dressed in only their cryo-suits. Exposed to the cold, endless vacuum of space, their cells would have sustained significant damage.

Which one was the Tharian going to choose? Would this insane proposal even work?

“This is…”

“Difficult for you,” Enki finished, curving his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I can sense the disquiet in you.” He rubbed the small of her back in a reassuring gesture. “It will pass.”

He didn’t say anything else, because there was nothing more to say. Instead, he just held her tightly as Layla contemplated life and death and the tenuous threads of her very own existence. “Hey, you’re the one with the disembodied alien consciousness stuck in his head,” she said dryly. “If anyone’s uneasy, it should be you.”

“I don’t get uneasy,” Enki replied, and Layla couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or not.

Abruptly, he glanced over his shoulder, and a weird feeling—a sudden sense of danger—made Layla turn.

Her eyes widened and her breath caught as three of the most dangerous, bad-ass looking Kordolians—apart from Enki, of course—entered the lab, with Zharek following close behind. They all wore that sleek black living armor, and they were all armed to the teeth—unlike Enki, who still wore his dark robes, and as was his habit, went barefoot.

Holy crap. How many of these guys were there? They looked as intimidating as hell, and only Enki’s protective arm around her waist kept her from feeling completely freaked out.

She took a deep breath and tried to slow her palpitating heart. Enki squeezed tighter. “Relax,” he murmured. “There is nothing to fear.”

Layla leaned into him, studying the newcomers. She recognized the pilot from the rescue—Lodan, his name was—but the guy to his left she hadn’t seen before. He had the look of a bruiser, with a massive frame and broad, not-quite-handsome features.

But it was the man in front of them who drew—no, demanded—Layla’s attention. A fraction shorter than Enki and slightly more muscular, he radiated authority, his crimson gaze missing nothing as it swept across the room, flicking over Layla for just a fraction of a second. She got the feeling he’d just dissected her and put her back together in the blink of an eye.

Scary. Who the hell is this guy?

The boss. It was obvious.

“Enki.” He greeted the warrior with a sharp nod. “I am no believer in coincidences, but it is rather interesting that you seem to have found a solution for your unique problem at the same time as you have found your mate.”

“Sir.” Beside her, Enki tensed, his tone becoming respectful, almost deferent—well, as deferent as a guy like Enki could possibly get. “I did not know you were back on the station.”

“Bartharra is an ongoing project. I am not wasting an entire fucking half-revolution of my time trying to keep those moronic yellow-skinned brutes from tearing each other’s throats out. Torin is overseeing security for now while I attend to other matters. I am only needed there for some of the negotiations.” The Kordolian shrugged. “His mate is with him, so he does not care if he has to stay there a little longer. My mate is here.” Abruptly, he turned his attention to Layla. “My wife has told me everything I need to know, Layla Rose dela Cruz. Let me make it clear that we do not care what has occurred on Earth, and we have little regard for the fickle court of your race’s collective opinion. I respect Enki’s judgment. That is all. Do you understand me, human?”

“Y-yes.” For a moment, her mouth hung open as her brain tried to process what he’d just told her. Then the impact of his words washed over Layla like a bucket of refreshing cold water, almost bringing tears to her eyes. No judgement. That’s what he was saying. He was effectively handing her a clean slate. “Th-thank you.”

The boss waved his hand dismissively. “Now we need to facilitate a transfer of consciousness, or so Zharek tells me. I assume you have found a plausible solution, medic, or else you would not have dragged me down here at such short notice. Explain your reasoning.”

“From what little I know about Tharian biology, I can assure you that this crazy plan might actually work.” Zharek walked across to the stasis tanks, not even bothering to glance in their direction. “The life-cycle of the Tharian occurs in two stages. The first, the corporeal stage, is as any of us would expect. The second, the incorporeal stage, is where things get weird. When a Tharian body dies, the consciousness remains, and kind of just floats around until it finds a compatible host.”

“Compatible host?” Layla couldn’t help but feel a sense of horrified fascination. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Zharek admitted. “The biology of Tharians confuses even me. Some mortal Tharians choose to share their physical body with an incorporeal, or even two or more, until the incorporeals pass on into the afterlife. In Enki’s case, the Tharian mistakenly entered his body when he ate her heart, and he is the worst possible host she could have found. Can you imagine being inside his head? I certainly wouldn’t want to do it.” Zharek shuddered. “Now, all he has to do is make skin contact with the host. Theoretically, the Tharian should be able to do the rest. We just need to control for all the possible things that could go wrong, which could range from sudden psychosis to accidental loss of control, to extreme violence. You know, the usual. It would be much easier if he allowed me to sedate him, but as expected, he vehemently oppo—”

Beside her, Enki had gone very, very still. “I told you, Zharek, we both need to be fully conscious for this to work. The Tharian told me so. Enough with the useless explaining. Let’s get this over and done with. If it works, it works. If not…”

“I know, I know. We keep on searching until we find another solution. I almost feel sorry for the Tharian. You’re probably killing the poor soul in there.”

“And we are here to mitigate any unexpected loss of control.” The red-eyed Kordolian, the boss, frowned as he crossed his arms. “I will not hesitate to neutralize you if you get violent, Enki.”

“I appreciate that, Sir.” Slowly, gently, Enki let go of Layla’s waist. “It would be best if you stepped out.”

“It’s okay. I’d rather be here, in case you—” I’m deathly worried about you. She didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“It’s for your own safety, Layla.” Enki’s tone became firm. “I can’t predict what I might do if something goes wrong and the Tharian takes over. If I lose control, I can’t stop my instinctive reactions. Only they can.” He nodded toward the three heavily armed warriors.

Lodan stepped forward. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around him when he’s in a bad mood.”

Enki shot Lodan a dark look. “Speak for yourself, soldier.” He put his hands on Layla’s shoulders and looked directly into her eyes, his expression softening. “Layla, go.” With the promise of danger and violence hanging so heavy in the air, it was impossible that he could look at her this way.

But then again, everything about this situation was impossible. She felt like little more than an extra in one of her crazy blockbuster VR movies, only this madness was very, very real.

She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she agreed finally, a little surprised that Enki and the three fierce warriors beside him were watching her with such intensity, as if her opinion mattered somehow. She thought about Anuk and the sheer desperation that had been in her voice as she’d pleaded with Layla. “I don’t necessarily think the Tharian is your enemy right now. Just remember that when you’re about to do whatever it is she needs you to do.”

Enki’s expression hardened, and for a moment his gaze grew distant, as if he were having a conversation inside his mind.

“I’ll take you into the antechamber,” Lodan offered. “Zharek can set up a holo so you can watch.”

Layla looked back at Enki, but his shields had gone up again, making him appear cold, inscrutable, and utterly alien. A stranger, but not.

“See ya,” she said, giving him a half-wave as she tried to detach herself from this creature of light and darkness, who had so quickly seized a part of her soul and made it his own. She felt close to him even when he was withdrawn like this, because she couldn’t forget the way he’d held her, the way he’d spoken to her as they lay in the pod together, the way he made her feel. Even now, when she was surrounded by a group of unfamiliar, dangerous Kordolians, she felt secure, because she knew that Enki wouldn’t let anything happen to her, ever. “I won’t be far away. Just next door. Holler if you need me. Seriously.”

He looked at her one last time, nodded solemnly, and then turned, becoming a dark silhouette in the glow of the tanks.