The Daemon's Change: Forced To Serve, #5

By Donna McDonald

In 2000 years, she's the only female who ever mattered to him. But is he too evil for her?

Book 5 continues this epic space opera with Malachi, the Demon of Synar, still searching for the only being he's ever encountered that is more powerful than him.

Despite being energetically compelled to do so, Malachi is tired of chasing after a physical body with the wrong female spirit dwelling inside it. What was the point? The real Rena Trax was back in her form while the feisty Emissary of the Creators he longs to encounter again is still nowhere to be found on the ship. 

The elusive female left him with a million unanswered questions about her purpose in his life. Without her presence, there no worthy being to debate the answers. His host Ania has too many problems of her own to worry about his. 

But why does he even care about the missing female? He is an alien spirit and inherently evil. He is the Demon of Synar. No female, regardless of how powerful or alluring, can change his destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna McDonald
• Release date: Oct 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781939988096

Donna McDonald

USA Today Bestselling Author Donna McDonald published her first novel in March of 2011. Many multi-genre novels later, she admits to living her own happily ever after as a full-time author. Addicted to making readers laugh, she includes a good dose of comedy in every book. You can visit her at donnamcdonaldauthor.com.

Book preview

1

Plagued by concerns he didn’t understand, Malachi hadn’t been able to stop himself from checking on her multiple times a day. He could sense Rena Trax wished to avoid him, but knowing her preferences did not alter his goals. He had tracked his quarry to the Liberator’s meditation room, one of her favorite places to weep. His mist form offered him discretion as he seeped around the door edges.

Near the front of the room, the sniffling Ethosian knelt in the middle of a Rylen meditation rug. Her penitent posture frustrated him. Most of the time her spirit’s energy floated above her physical form. Going out of her body was so typical of the way most creatures used depressed states to escape their corporeal lives. But in Rena Trax’s case, Malachi knew she actively sought the disconnection.

To a trained medic, she would be considered suicidal.

To a daemon, she was an energetic mess of jagged shards untethered to form.

Rising higher in the room, he floated all the way to the ceiling, ignoring the symbols meant to ward off all manner of wickedness. Dorian Zade’s energy in the room was strong, but he no longer feared the Siren’s spiritual power. If anything, he had developed a great admiration. Zade was a fellow male who had suffered a long-term, unnatural celibate state for the sake of staying true to a single female. It was an unhappy fate and one he was currently suffering himself.

Though given tentative permission to indulge his physical urges if it pleased him and some willing female to do so, Malachi hadn’t so far been able to exercise the freedom. Oh, there were plenty of accommodating females on the ship, if novelty was all he desired. And true, he couldn’t yet imagine how pleasant it would be to enjoy his host body’s reactions to bonding without having to share the pleasure with its original owner. Certainly, satisfying that curiosity passed through his thoughts now and again, but only long enough to be discarded as not worth the trouble.

Plus it would not be received well if he took advantage of all those grateful females they had rescued from Lotharius. This was especially true when yet another Siren, their newest crew member, was practicing celibacy as well and turning them all down. The former Captain Ji Warro, now Lieutenant Warro on the Liberator, used stimulation videos for self-gratification while he dreamed of bonding with the unsuspecting Lieutenant Seta Trax.

Unfortunately the Trax sibling he felt compelled to assist hadn’t survived her physical form’s second brush with death any better than she had her first one. The emissary who had saved Rena’s body the first time had long since disappeared from it, or at least that appeared to be the case. Rena repeatedly refused to let him go inside her to confirm that truth, but his observations led him to believe it.

Rena’s very appealing Ethosian body, one that still caused desire in his, was now filled with a subdued, thoroughly uninteresting spirit. Unlike the disrespectful emissary, this Rena called him daemon in the same fearful manner most beings did. But while there was fear and loathing in her voice, there was also morbid fascination in her gaze. She avoided him, and yet he could sense that she looked for him as well.

Obeying the internal command to watch over her caused him no issue. He knew its source, and in the two thousand years of his mist form, he had learned to obey when the urge to act was that strong. Perhaps his frustration simply stemmed from the fact that his mist form normally allowed him to be virtually omniscient. He simply wasn’t used to not knowing the full truth of any matter he chose to know.

Now even Ania had learned a way to keep secrets from him, a trick none of his hosts before her had managed.

Come forth and speak if you must, daemon. I feel you behind me, Rena said.

Drifting down nearer the floor, Malachi shaped his mist into his original physical form. So . . . why do you weep today? he asked.

It irritated him that the clear voice he generated for Rena’s benefit caused his misty form to quiver. With barely a drain on his power, he could destroy and absorb the molecular structures of a battalion of warriors, but creating a resonance of understandable words always drained his energy quickly. He had long ago attributed it to the Creators having a strange sense of humor. In the beginning he had cursed them for it, but they had paid no attention to his complaining then, nor did they now.

Rena bowed her head. Though she owed him no explanation, her compassion was engaged.

If you must know, today I remembered my death. Flashes of insight pierced the fog in my mind. I remember a light inside me that seemed to talk on its own. Then I recall watching Seta lift a knife into the air. She killed our Ethosian mate, or whatever you choose to call the male who purchased us from our father.

I might call him a male with good taste in females. Do you weep for his death then? Malachi asked.

"May the Creators forgive me but . . . No. Her tone was adamant as she shook her head. I weep because of memories—because of my abuse at his hands. What good comes from forcing me to recall that my mate traded use of my body for material goods? Seta was traded less, but that was because she always fought and had to be restrained. I remember his death the way you remember a nightmare. But I am certain that when the knife came down, I felt nothing but profound relief to hear him take his last breath."

Recognizing evil does not make you less good, Malachi said.

Rena frowned as she stared at the gray walls in the room. She could feel the daemon’s compassion reaching out to her. She could feel his anger over what she and Seta had suffered. It had crossed her mind that perhaps such a powerful being might be used as an instrument to end her current torture. Like the emissaries, the daemon had the power to set her energy form free once more.

Why would the Creators force me to endure this limited life again? Rena asked.

Malachi’s form wavered. Her hurt-filled past could not be changed. The suffering female was here, whoever she was inside her form. And the males that had hurt her and Seta were out of reach. He too found himself pondering why she was remembering all the pain when absolutely nothing could be done.

Joke? he offered. The still wet-eyed female turned a tortured gaze from the meditation mat to him.

I do not find it funny if that is the case, she said.

Not a good joke, he replied, trying to sound as stern as possible.

Rena smiled tightly at the daemon’s strange attempt to cheer her. Why do you pursue me each day? I am not the one you seek.

Let me check, Malachi suggested. I can make you forget your Ethosian mate.

No. I bow to the Creator’s higher purpose in my suffering, Rena answered, lifting her chin.

We all bow, but I see no higher purpose in what you are enduring, Malachi said.

Rena bowed her head to the mist. I appreciate your compassion for me, Daemon of Synar. For both our sakes, I wish your emissary was still here instead of me. Yet I am also ashamed of not handling this trial well. I cannot find peace with such contradictory feelings.

There is no need. Nothing happening is your fault. This is a profound truth, Malachi declared, streaking out.

Her desire to leave her body disturbed him. Both the emissary and the real Rena Trax hated the exact situation he had come to think of as a reward for his redemption.

No sooner was he back in his host body than the com unit on the wall of his quarters blinked.

He rose to press one long finger on it, admiring his masculine arm and hand. Since Liam was still squeamish about permanent alterations, he had been diligently working out in the training room to increase the muscle dimension of his form. Conor Synar had been a handsome enough male of his kind, but rather on the thin side.

Malachi here, he answered.

Chiang’s animated, irritated voice came booming over the line, the Greggor’s energy as sharp as any one of the laser knives the healer often used. Where in Helios have you been? We need you in Medical. Come at once.

Malachi sneered when Chiang cut the connection before he had even been able to answer back. Rolling his eyes at the Greggor’s dramatics, he followed the action with a laugh about the mannerism nearly every officer on the ship had adopted. It was one favored by their volatile Earthling commander to show her condescension.

He strolled to Medical, deliberately taking his time. He wasn’t about to let the Greggor doctor start demanding his presence every time the least little crisis occurred. That’s what junior medics were for.

Walking into Medical humming, Malachi’s mirth ended when he saw Ania strapped to a medical table and unconscious. On tables around her were assorted ensigns, Dorian Zade, and Gwen, all with various wounds. Liam also lay on another table letting a subdued Boca treat him. Frozen in place, Malachi surveyed the damage, shocked that his master and his host could both have been harmed without his knowledge.

His eyes flashed red as he took it all in. What happened?

Chiang shook his head. Ania and Gwen were sparring. Gwen said there was a bright light in the room and then Ania seemed to lose her mind. Fortunately, Zade and Synar were nearby and heard Gwen yelling. It took all of them to restrain Ania from trying to kill Gwen. Zade had to knock her out.

Malachi looked at Zade in surprise, clearing his throat of tightness before asking his question. Lieutenant—do you know what’s wrong with Ania?

Her spirit was in so much turmoil I couldn’t tell. That’s why we needed you so urgently, Dorian said. Did you not feel anything when she did this?

Nothing. I felt nothing, Malachi said quietly, still unsure how that could ever have happened. I was in mist form until moments ago.

It doesn’t matter. Find out what happened now, Gwen ordered, wincing as a senior medic tightened her arm bandage. Ania almost broke my arm. Her eyes went red and then bright blue. She looked at me in shock, and then lost her freaking mind. That’s all I know.

Blue? Her eyes went blue? Malachi repeated in alarm, already lifting from his body to head into Ania. Only he couldn’t get inside. There was a block. He tried all he knew, but something or someone was keeping him out. He knew of only being capable of overriding his will but she had left the ship. Hadn’t she?

Returning to his body, Malachi moved his attention to the other table. Liam? Can you talk to me?

Synar opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Something is inside her.

The energy of the emissaries causes their eyes to blaze blue, Malachi said, not drawing any conclusions yet, but offering what he suspected. I sincerely regret I wasn’t there to help.

Synar shook his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat. His mate had tried to kill him. The intent had been in her gaze. Gwen had probably saved him by turning herself into the nearest target even after he and Dorian got there.

I called, but you didn’t answer. Go inside Ania and see what you can find out. She tried to kill me. She tried to kill all of us.

I already tried to get inside her, Liam. I can’t get in. There’s an energy I can’t identify blocking my way, Malachi admitted. His jaw tightened and his gut clenched. He had always hated failing, and it rarely happened to him in daemon mist form.

What can we do then? Synar asked.

Malachi looked away. Compassion for his mate was indeed Liam’s greatest weakness and could incapacitate him. He remembered the support Liam had offered him on Lotharius when he had feared for the emissary’s existence. He tried his best to return that compassion now, even though he didn’t completely understand it.

I think we need to keep Ania’s physical body from being able to act. The entity might leave her when it realizes Ania’s form isn’t able to be used.

What about everyone else on the ship? Synar asked. Ania’s skills exceed even Dorian’s. I saw that for myself today. I can’t let Ania hurt anyone.

No you can’t, but I don’t know what else to do if I can’t get into her to find out what’s going on. Malachi paused, then got an idea. Rena Trax once hosted an emissary. We can ask her. I also suggest we contact Kefira to see if she left one of her shiny, self-righteous beings behind when she vacated our ship.

Synar nodded and reached out a hand to let Malachi pull him up to a sitting position.

A part of me never believed Ania’s stories about her past. I definitely met the ruthless warrior in her today. Ania held off all of us. Finally, I surprised her and Dorian was able to subdue her. She screamed in rebellion, but crumpled to the floor anyway. I regret not taking her more seriously now.

Yes. I discovered what she was like over those two years we were alone together. Liam, this is very bad timing, but there’s something else you don’t know about your very unique mate, Malachi said, wishing he had confided in Liam when he first felt their stirrings. I don’t think Ania even knows this yet, but she carries your children. There are two faint life signs within her. I’ve been watching over them.

"Children? We created children together?" Synar swung his startled gaze to the female on the table.

Malachi nodded. Since she was not yet ready to deal with the reality, out of loyalty to her I said nothing to either of you. Perhaps I did wrong in hoping their existence would unfold in a more joyful manner.

Synar was shaking his head, almost unable to take it in. No, you were doing the right thing. Ania continues to claim that she is not ready to start a family. I just wish . . .

Pausing, Synar looked across the tables to see Gwen and Dorian staring at him in sympathy.

With no other recourse, his gaze swung to Chiang. Would it hurt the gestation process to put Ania in stasis?

Chiang nodded. Ania would be fine, but it would put the children at risk to halt their growth. I don’t recommend it.

Sedation then? Synar suggested.

It’s a better option than stasis. Are you thinking simple restraints and sedatives won’t work? Chiang asked.

No. I can tell you for certain that simple restraints won’t work, Dorian said sharply. His gaze jumped between the two concerned males. Even complicated restraints would not hold her long. Ania can escape anything. She is not just Khalsa. She is the highest master of their skills. No one else has her level of training. I didn’t get that far myself.

Can she escape the trance state you put her in? Synar asked.

Dorian nodded sadly. Yes. She is the only warrior I ever knew who could. Even now, I feel her fighting the hold I have on her. Anger rules her energy at the moment while she fights what is within her. When she remembers to cease her struggles, she will release herself from my hold.

Synar swallowed hard as he looked at Ania’s restrained form once more. Then he looked again at the best of his crew, which his mate had almost defeated without any help. He couldn’t let his compassion for Ania keep him from his greater obligations to protect everyone else. Hopefully, his mate would one day forgive him for yet another time he had to choose the ship’s welfare over hers.

"Call the Paladin, Chiang. They’re still within hailing distance. See if they have some of the sedative her captors gave her on Terris Rein. We know that will keep her under for at least a few days. Maybe we can figure out what the Helios is going on in the meantime."

I don’t know what kind of long-term effect the sedative will have on her or the children, Chiang warned.

Doesn’t matter. There’s no other choice, Synar said sadly, sliding off the table to the floor. "Gwen, call Warro. Bring him up to speed and tell him he has the bridge tonight. Then you and Dorian go get some rest. You need to heal quickly. You’ll both be on the bridge for the duration of our trip to pick up the Guardian 13."

Maybe the weepy, creepy Trax sister can tell you something about what happened, Gwen said, flexing her sore arm as she slid from the medical table. It was bad, but the compression bandage helped. I don’t buy Rena’s story about coming back from the dead. I got a feeling there’s more going on with her than we are seeing. Unless she’s just some whacko mental case.

I agree there is much we don’t know about Rena’s situation. That’s exactly why Malachi and I are going to go have a little chat with both Trax siblings as soon as I can arrange it, Synar said. He looked over his shoulder to see Malachi frowning down at Ania’s unconscious form. Malachi, do whatever you feel you need to. I want this figured out.

Malachi’s gaze rose to his master’s. Liam should know better than to give him free rein. Be careful how much control you offer me, Liam Synar. I would hate for you to have to put me in Zorinda’s amulet after all. Because if the emissaries are doing this, I’ll make sure they suffer for the pain they have caused her. I no longer fear what they will do to me. I saw Ania best one in a contest of wills.

I know how you feel, because I feel like that too. But I was there. Ania attacked Gwen on reflex, which is second nature to her as I have just painfully learned. It’s possible that Ania had no idea what she was doing. It’s also possible that the entity—emissary—or whatever the creature was that went into her, may have overreacted to being in Ania as well. Or I could just be trying to think objectively so I don’t overreact myself, Synar declared, blowing out a frustrated breath.

Malachi closed his eyes, nodded. You are right on all those points and that overreacting will not help this situation. Calm thinking is required. Let’s begin with interrogating the Trax sisters until we are assured they have told us all they know.

2

Captain Synar, if I knew anything more I would tell you. I have no wish to see Peace Keeper Looren harmed in any way. What have I done to indicate I cannot be trusted?

Malachi felt his eyebrows arch in surprise when the resonance from a giant wave of fury echoed all around Liam. His normally stoic master rose from his chair to pace the small meeting room chosen for their interrogation. Normally, Liam didn’t let his emotions rule his state of being or his actions. Learning the now unconscious Ania carried the family he had been craving seemed to have stripped the Norblade male of his usual self-control.

Yet equally disturbing as Liam’s turbulent emotional state was the fact that he was having a protective reaction to the sincerity and compassion in Rena Trax’s voice. While he and Liam were of one accord in their anger about what Ania was enduring, they were not aligned in their thoughts about the female now speaking. In fact, he was upset to feel himself so conflicted about her.

He watched as Rena glared at Liam’s back.

Captain Synar? Did you hear my question? I think I at least deserve an answer.

His conflict resolved itself as Rena continued protesting her lack of involvement. The rage he felt was both familiar and welcome. It meant he was still capable of taking the Ethosian female’s life if it became necessary to do so. Yet when he saw her struggle to contain her tears, alongside the daemon rage grew another urge, to embrace and console her. Or at least console her physical body.

Malachi hated that he was still oddly attached to it even though the spirit now living within it was of little interest to him. But what exactly did his obsession with her mean? His bizarre possessiveness of what the emissary had called her skin suit was a great puzzle to him. Too bad he didn’t have more time to contemplate it.

Would you know beyond doubt if the emissary had returned to your physical form? Be truthful, Malachi ordered.

He was oddly reassured when Rena turned from Liam to frown and glare at him. Despite his baiting, Liam kept his back turned to the entire group, obviously not wanting the Ethosians to see his distress.

Malachi let his eyes flash red to make sure Rena knew he was serious in his questioning. He saw Seta’s gaze bounce between him and her sibling, but to her credit, Lieutenant Trax didn’t attempt to intervene.

How could I ever be completely sure? But I think if the emissary were still inside me, it would be obvious to some of the intuitives on the ship, even if not to me as a host. An emissary’s energy is unlike any other being’s, Rena said. You, of all creatures on this ship, should know I speak the truth.

Malachi ignored Liam’s penetrating gaze swinging back to land on him as he answered. Yes. I agree that an emissary’s energy is unique, but that’s still not answering my question, Rena. How can you truly be sure the former emissary, or another of her kind, is not hiding inside you right now? Only recently, one was inside Boca Ador without her knowledge—or ours. I could easily check if you would just let me inside you.

No. There is little else I would refuse you or Captain Synar, but the answer is still no to your invasion. I have suffered several lifetimes’ worth of physical violation in this one. I refuse to allow a daemon to possess me as well. I know the emissary is gone because I remain filled with the same desolation I had the moment I awoke and knew that I breathed once more. The separation of what I am—what you know as ‘Rena Trax’—from the source of all creation is an emotional burden. This physical form holds no allure for me, daemon. If you get angry enough to kill me, then do so with my blessing. It would only take me closer to my goal of returning to the Creators once more.

Malachi narrowed his gaze as he considered Rena Trax’s all too familiar complaint. "That’s almost exactly what the emissary used to say about being trapped inside your body. She called it a skin suit."

Seta frowned at her birth sibling’s words. Rena . . . stop talking about such nonsense. You would never seek your death. I thought you were working with Lieutenant Zade to clear your mind of such morbid desires.

Ignoring the daemon’s satisfied smirk over Seta’s lecture, Rena turned slowly to look at the female who was a mirror of her form on the outside. At times like this, she was very sad that she and Seta no longer understood one another. The spiritual accord she had once known with her dual birth sibling was no more. Influenced by the minor daemon who now kept her alive, Seta had become someone she no longer knew nor wished to know. It was yet another reason that she resented her return to corporeality.

Rena sighed as she glared at Seta, imploring her with her gaze to try to understand. I speak only the profound truth as I know it, Seta. Captain Synar could easily order my death and his daemon would see to it. My return has disrupted the energy on the ship. I do not blame them for wanting me gone. I wish the same for myself as they wish for me.

"Nonsense. All of this death talk is nonsense. You don’t know what you are saying. Your mind is merely trying to deal with the trauma of almost dying. Ask Medical for some calming aides, Seta declared, glaring back. And for once, please desist from prattling on about the Creator’s will for you. This is not the time for a spiritual debate. We have a very real problem on the ship."

The Ethosian females both jumped when a fist pounded hard on the table. Malachi tilted his head, fascinated with the angry color suffusing Liam’s face. It was the most angry he had ever seen the youngest Synar ever get.

Cease your chastisement, Lieutenant Trax. All discussion will continue until I am convinced that we have learned all that we can from Rena’s views. The majority of creatures on this ship are not as agnostic about these matters as you seem to be. Remember that next time you lecture.

When the light on the com port in the middle of the conference table started flashing, Synar reached out and pressed it. Is Kefira on the com?

Yes, Captain, Ensign Dre reported.

Good. Ensign Karr? Are you on the bridge? Come to the com where I can hear you clearly, Synar yelled, making sure his voice carried to everyone there.

Seconds later a strong male voice answered. Karr here as requested, Captain.

You’re in charge of the bridge until Warro arrives for duty, Synar ordered, not acknowledging Karr’s mumbled compliance. Ensign Dre, transfer the com here and put Kefira up on full screen.

Doing so now, sir, Dre answered.

Moments later, a large visage of Kefira appeared on the screen in front of the room. Malachi automatically bowed his head to the nervous female on the screen facing them fearfully.

Kefira, did Ensign Karr brief you about the problem we’re having? Synar asked.

Malachi’s gaze took in everyone’s curiosity as they all watched the quiet female nod, clear her throat, and answer yes in a soft voice. Kefira was obviously on her personal room com and not fully alert. It amazed him how little Liam seemed to care.

Any idea what might be going on? Synar asked, trying to voice the demand as calmly as he could.

Kefira shook her head, cleared her throat for a third time, and sighed before speaking. "The last emissary left me almost as soon as I arrived home. I have been resting and trying to recuperate from having the Lotharian wires removed. I don’t know what happens to me during my . . . possessions. So I have no idea what is happening to Peace Keeper Looren. The emissaries follow their own rules, but I have never been harmed by them. I cannot see them intentionally trying to hurt your mate either."

Synar stood up to pace again. Sitting was impossible. Trying to be calm was worse. Gwen said Ania’s eyes flashed blue just before she struck out the first time. Ania injured any crew member who tried to reason with her. Can you tell us what it’s like to be possessed by an emissary? Is it painful? Tell us about your first experience.

I fought the possession the first time, Kefira said quietly, then paused to clear her throat yet again. Just a moment please, Captain. I’m having trouble speaking.

To save Liam the trouble of doing so, Malachi sighed loudly in annoyance as Kefira disappeared briefly from the screen before coming back with a cup of something that was steaming. Sitting down again, she lifted the cup, sipped, and then leaned back in her seat.

The first time I hosted an emissary was not physically painful, but it was very . . . I suppose I would use the word ‘invasive’ to describe the sensation. It was like there was a voice and person inside my head ordering me to do things. I endured incredible headaches from trying to fight the entity for control of my body, Kefira explained.

What is the process like now? Do you still resist the possession? Synar asked.

No. I have learned that it is best to just let go and let it happen. It took me several days of mentally wrestling with the energy inhabiting me before I managed to quell the urge to rip out my brain. But I will admit that sometimes they do the unexpected. Once I woke up after a two day black out episode to discover that my hair was cut and my room was destroyed. Captain Synar, this seems like history repeating itself where Ania is concerned. She once told me that she was very angry when she first learned about Malachi.

Kefira twirled a lock of her hair as she carefully chose her next words.

If your mate resisted a kindred spirit so much, I can only imagine what she would do to have an emissary’s light burning inside her. Her reaction would be understandably intense.

Synar’s gaze swung to Malachi who shrugged. What does it mean that you and Ania are kindred spirits?

Ania Looren and I have an accord that exceeds what I felt with my previous hosts, but it’s not like we are dual-sibs, Liam. Kefira exaggerates, Malachi declared, looking for a safe way to downplay something his master still wasn’t ready to accept.

Being a dual-birth doesn’t guarantee a full understanding either, Seta declared, glaring at Rena who sighed over the comment as she shook her head.

Ignoring both Trax females, Synar paced. Considered. Then paced some more. What happened when you stopped fighting, Kefira?

When I stopped fighting, the emissary’s light filled me. There are two or three days of a calm void that feels like a long sleep to me.

Kefira took another sip of her tea as she gathered her thoughts.

After the first emissary departed, those that had interacted with me had to report what had occurred because I had no memories of it. I do not know where my spirit goes during the possession. When the second emissary entered me, I didn’t fight her at all. I just let the void take me over. This has been my process ever since.

How can you be sure their influence isn’t cloaking your understanding? Synar asked.

I can’t be sure. However, the only memory I have from my capture and rescue from the Lotharians is of your dem . . . I mean, is of Malachi being inside me. I see evidence on my legs of where the wires were inserted. It is a bit traumatic to think I had no knowledge of them, but I am coping.

Synar took a deep breath. Has any emissary within you ever harmed those around your body?

Kefira shook her head slowly. No. Otherwise, my body would not have suffered being wired on Lotharius. Or at least, that would be my logical leap. They all possess a fierce nature when provoked.

Indeed, Synar said, one curt nod backing up his contemplation of that idea.

"Captain Synar, would you like my opinion of what is happening? Kefira asked. Seeing another curt nod from Liam Synar had her straightening in her chair and sighing. Wake Peace Keeper Looren up. Her unconscious state is not good for your children."

Synar eyebrows shot up. How did you . . .

The last emissary told me before she left, Kefira said.

What if you are wrong? What if we wake her up and she attacks people again? Synar asked.

Most decisions are risks. Are they not? Kefira shrugged one shoulder, causing her sleep shirt to slip off. She pulled it back up, self-conscious of all eyes having seen her dishevelment, but it couldn’t be helped. "If your arrival is still set for two sleep cycles from now, I am willing to meet you when you collect the Guardian 13. I would be happy to be present when you wake your mate up. I still owe your crew for saving my life."

Synar snorted. No, you don’t. You helped an emissary save Lieutenant Trax’s life. I would say we’re even.

Then let’s say perhaps you will owe me another favor afterwards, Kefira said, bowing her head. What matters is Ania Looren . . . and your family.

I accept that as truth. We will see you in two sleep cycles then, Synar said, bowing back as Kefira lifted her hand and disconnected.

Malachi shook his head as the screen went dark. Kefira is rather timid when she is operating on her own energy, isn’t she?

Yes. But timidity often hides a calculating mind. There’s something Kefira is not telling us. Do you know what it is? Synar asked.

Malachi shook his head again. No. Frankly, I’d just as soon snap her neck as look at her. I have a great resentment right now for her calm attitude while an unconscious Ania is strapped to a medical table.

When both Trax sisters drew in a shocked breath, Malachi laughed, but really couldn’t blame them. Still . . . he shouldn’t make them too frightened to speak to him.

Forgive me for the bad joke. The Captain and I sometimes exchange quotes from old Earth entertainment vids, or from those amusing bits of wood pulp with ancient Earth writing on them. Books! Yes, that’s what they were called. Earthlings have always used their natural resources for the oddest things.

I don’t find your threats to kill Kefira amusing at all, nor your attempts to deflect my attention from them with bad humor. If you’re done with us Captain, may I return to my duties? Seta asked.

Synar bowed his head. Yes. Thank you for your cooperation. Rena, you are free to go as well.

When both females had filed out, Synar looked at Malachi. You frightened the Ethosians. Didn’t we have a discussion about how much of your true thoughts you could share with the crew? I know you weren’t kidding.

Indeed I was not, Malachi said, rising from his chair.

Do you fear Kefira? Synar asked.

Fear her? No. But I will never fully trust the entities that possess her at their will, Malachi said. I might respect their power, but your mate is the only female I completely trust.

Synar nodded. Chastising the daemon was useless since it was a sentiment he shared as well.

3

How’s the arm, Commander? Malachi asked, inspecting the compression bandage.

Gwen shrugged. Nothing but a twinge left, except when you mess with it. Why?

Ignoring her denial, Malachi looked across at Boca who was busy taking inventory in preparation for their transfer to the new ship. The Commander’s arm is not healing properly, Boca. You need to come work on it.

"The Commander says she is fine, Boca argued, continuing her task. I need to finish the inventory."

"You’ve checked those items at least ten times in the last two days. I