Shayla felt an unseen string tethered around her waist. It nudged her ever so slightly, like the Spreahs’ fishing rods having snared algae. The invisible thread carried her to the surface, to reality. All the way up to the moment she finally opened her eyes, she glimpsed the faces of the people she had killed. They all stared at her, accusingly. She had no words to defend herself, and her limbs felt heavy and stiff. Sadness, regret, sorrow. She had them all.

When she finally managed to move, she found herself sitting in a weird-looking room. Metallic panels covered the walls and floor of the room, with no windows in sight. A spherical object stood in the middle of the room inside an energy grid.

Her legs and back ached, and she rubbed her temples. Three men and a woman seemed frozen in place while another tall, blonde woman paced around the hangar bay. She stopped and outright glared at Shayla now as if she thought she would never wake up again.

Even though her face looked familiar, Shayla didn’t recognize her. She wondered if the blonde woman with teal eyes was real or just another person she had killed. Memories and questions flooded her mind, and dizziness overwhelmed her.

A voice penetrated her head. “Welcome back, Shayla!”

She searched for her daggers but instead found a laser pistol. Was she losing her mind? She drew it and pointed toward every corner of the room as she frantically searched for the owner of the voice.

Footsteps startled her. To her right, a lean man approached and stopped only when his chest pressed against the tip of her gun.

He made a soft sound and tilted his head, staring down at Shayla with his coal-black eyes. She knew that man. It was the same look he had given her when he had invited her on board the ship to be his second in command as if he was extremely curious about her choice. He stared into her like he did when they danced, except that his eyes were darker now, and he no longer wore horns.

A sense of recognition grew within her. Though deep down she knew he was dangerous, she couldn’t help but want to know him better. She recalled his faces, but none of them were truly his. He was handsome and attractive, but she wasn’t interested in his looks because looks were deceiving. What she needed was the truth. She needed to know what he was capable of.

The blonde woman stared at Shayla and then at that man, her eyes bouncing from one to the other.

The man pressed his chest to her gun even more. “Shoot me if that makes you feel better.”

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His words sent a jolt of heat rushing down her spine. Did he mean to impress her? Well, it worked. Shooting someone released anger and frustration bottled up inside. Her finger twitched over the trigger. Her heart also craved to kill again.

Shayla suddenly realized where she was and who everyone was, including Tejeda and C1313.

“Is that an order, captain?” Shayla regained her assertiveness. She raised an eyebrow. For now, she lowered her gun.

He smirked then turned his back on her. “E00, I told you I can handle it all by myself, see?”

“I won’t ask how since I know you won’t answer,” E00 replied, seemingly undisturbed.

“Exactly. And keep that in mind next time when you think you have enough reason to barge uninvited inside my head.” Then, Tejeda turned to Shayla. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

“You’ve just eaten before all this happened,” Shayla said.

"Yeah, but I want to eat again." He flashed a smile at her, which was like the sun beamed at her. "I spent like a year inside my memories, and I’m famished."

E00’s voice echoed throughout the hangar bay. “Are you really going to eat? What about the Transcendents?”

"I see that the giant lightbulbs are locked within a magnetic force field inside a grid. What you did to Shayla should work on the others as well. You and C1313 have this covered. Shayla and I are going to eat." Tejeda reached Shayla and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm relieved you're okay. It's good to be around someone normal and healthy. I'm hungry. Come on, now." He took a step toward the door. "We'll be right back."

It was as if the ship could be in flames and all he cared about was her. She gulped at that thought. Was this what madness looked like? Or was it something else? With a shake of her head, she forced the besotted thoughts aside to focus on her feet toward the improvised kitchen.

As they walked together through the corridor, Tejeda said, “I liked the meat pie you brought for me in the office. If there’s only one slice left, I call dibs on it.”

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I don’t want your meat pie.” As if to prove she lied, Shayla’s stomach grumbled. It was so loud that it startled Tejeda. Ah, damn it.

He came to a halt and peered at her, his hand on her stomach. "If we don't do anything to satiate that monster's hunger, it'll devour us all."

Shayla growled, cursing herself for not shooting him when she had the chance. She still had the laser pistol in the holster on her thigh, so she had all the time in the world to reconsider that decision.

Ignoring her obvious annoyance, he said, "If there's nothing to eat, I'll let you make some Jerk Ketchup." His lips twisted in that distinctive manner, and he flashed his dimpled grin again, this time accompanied by a giggle. "However, you'll have to eat it from the tray where you prepare it."

She sometimes hated his constant flirtation and careless behavior, such as this infantile exchange. Nevertheless, this was precisely the thing she needed to distance herself from the trauma of her past, which the Transcendents had brought into the present. With a single glance, Tejeda knew she needed something to distance her from the evil that lurked within her memories.

Shayla thanked him as she always did. “Jerk!”

“Ketchup!” He shrugged innocently. “Exactly what I said!”