Page 65 of Shattered Silence

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 tension 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?

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