Reclaiming Mystique (SpaceStalker Saga Book 2) by Bevan Greer

man had suffered.
    “Set Castor in the unit until he’s well enough to subsist on his own. That belly wound is almost gone. Then put Mikhel inside. He’ll need to be in there longer. Though his wounds appear superficial, it’s his mind I’m worried about.”
    “Right.”
    “After he checks out, flip flop the men until they glow with health.”
    Koneru nodded. “I fear they’ll need more than the med unit to recover from that dark place, though.”
    Jace agreed as he stared down at Mikhel. Reaching out with his mind, Jace felt echoes of horror and loathing from Mikhel’s exhausted mind. Castor, as he’d thought, appeared better with each moment spent in the unit.
    “Jace?” Koneru stared at him, no doubt wondering at the long pause.
    Jace had to stop assuming his lapses wouldn’t be noticed. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m tired. I’m going to check on the woman. She’s still unconscious?”
    “I put her in the room next to yours, as ordered. When last I left her, she appeared to be in a deep sleep. She’s bruised but not too badly.”
    Jace left Koneru with a promise to return shortly. He found his room and walked through the spartan space to the adjoining area beside it.
    He found Naria lying still on her back and sat by her on the bed. He forced open her eyelids and stared into black depths. Black? He blinked in surprise. He could have sworn her eyes were purple. Then he checked for a pulse and found… nothing .
    “Hel and Lysst, no.” He ignored his own pain and lifted her in his arms, intent on getting her to the medical room when he felt her soft breath on his neck.
    Lightheaded with relief, he returned her gently to the bed. She’d been so light in his arms, at odds with the picture of her tall and curvy frame. As he studied her, he again felt an odd pull toward the female, his injured body protesting but nevertheless responding to her in a carnal sense.
    He did his best to master an instinctive reaction to a beautiful woman, trying to be more concerned for her welfare than his badly-timed libido. Seeing that she looked in no condition to do anything harmful and sensing her brain patterns tempered into sleep, he left her locked in his adjoining room and rejoined Nesham in the front of the ship.
    “Nesham, I want you to—”
    “I ran a system scan on the ship,” Nesham interrupted. “The scanner malfunctioned as soon as it started.” He paused. “I can’t guarantee the ship is free from Dark World influence.”
    “Terrific. We’ll need to rely on our senses to detect any forms of unfamiliar life before they devour our souls and eat our corpses.” Jace said wryly and shook his head.
    Nesham nodded, not taking Jace’s dark sarcasm in the way he’d meant it.
    With a sigh, Jace added, “Take a walk around the ship and look for anything that doesn’t seem right. I don’t want to have inadvertently carried something off any of those demonic moons. At all.”
    “Trust me. I understand.” Nesham left the control room.
    Jace rolled his head on his neck, glad at least that Nesham appeared in good health if his usual melancholy spirits. Koneru too, though shaken by the ordeal, had come out as strong and resilient as always.
    Castor would recover, of that Jace felt certain. Mikhel was another matter.
    Jace closed his eyes, trying to cut off the sorrow emanating from just the mention of the man. Not only did Mikhel suffer from psychic wounds Jace could feel from the control room, he’d also managed to do the impossible. He made Jace empathize. In the time Jace had known him, he’d had come to sincerely like and respect Mikhel.
    Though a strong and imperious warrior among his people, Mikhel had lived a sheltered life among the System. Now, when he’d finally come into his own and found freedom from an oppressive monarch, now when he’d begun really living, he’d fallen victim to an evil that might well take his life.
    At the thought, memories of the Cazeth returned, reminding Jace