Lacey looked up at the ceiling. "Toxin? How do you know that?"

"The med-vid film is feeding Zain's vital statistics to me. Please retrieve the green cylinder marked 'ZAX-1342' from the kit."

She sorted through thirty slender vials and held up the correct one. At least, she hoped so. God, what if she did this wrong? If he died, she'd never forgive herself. If he survived, she was going to smack him for being such a hardhead and not listening to her in the first place.

"Got it," she said. "Now what?"

"Snap the vial in the center and press one of the ends to Zain's neck."

She did that and watched as the contents of the vial drained into his skin.

"How long before it works?" she asked, holding her fingers against the slow pulse in his neck. "If the poison has not entirely penetrated his organs, it will work within ten minutes."

She frowned. "And what if it has affected the organs?"

"Then it will not work at all."

Lacey closed her eyes. She couldn't think about it. She had to believe in Zain's strength and his damn stubbornness.

"What about the darts?"

"The tips are barbed, which will cause additional harm to Zain. However, they must be removed."

"Easy for you to say."

"He is unconscious at present. It will be much more difficult when he regains consciousness." Lacey looked at Zain's peaceful upturned face and knew Reene was right. She had to do it now. If she couldn't get them out, no one would.

Reene continued, "You must wear gloves. The darts are saturated with toxins."

Lacey donned gloves from the kit and took a deep breath. She wrapped her fingers around the end of one dart and slowly pulled out the one-inch cone-shaped plug-along with a healthy chunk of flesh. Blood welled up from the wound. It was all she could do to not pass out. Luckily, Zain didn't move. She removed the others as quickly as possible.

"Discard his shirt," Reene said. "Then swab the puncture wounds with a disinfectant towel. Attach the pads marked Aritrox to the wounds."

Lacey ripped Zain's shirt open and tugged it off his body. "What's Aritrox?"

"A healing accelerant. It uses the body's natural abilities and enhances them. Most effective."

Lacey used a towel to sop up the blood, and applied the pads. Red soaked through them in seconds.

"Now what?" she asked, steadying herself against the bunk.

"We wait."

And pray, she added silently. She glanced out the ship's viewport at the setting sun. Another exciting night in Death Valley. "Are the perimeter alarms on?"

"Affirmative."

"And you have guns."

"Yes."

"Guns are good. I can't believe I just said that." She put her palm on Zain's forehead. The heat was fading and his color looked better. Lacey walked over and collapsed in her chair. She laid her head back to rest.

"Space sucks," she murmured. Playing Warrior Programmer was definitely not all it was cracked up to be. She was tired and scared and shaking from her ride to hell and back. She wanted some answers and, dammit, the computer was going to talk.

"I think it's time you gave me a crash course in InterGlax, Reene. Who are they? What do they do? And how was Zain mixed up with them?"

"I am not sure that I can provide that information. Earthlings are not cleared at that level."

She blew a hair off her face, which was about all she had energy for. "I think it's a little late to be worrying about the prime directive, Reene."

"Pardon?"

She sighed. "I promise I won't breathe a word of this to another Earthling as long as I live. Granted, that may not be long at the rate I'm going. Besides, if I told anyone about this adventure, I'd be locked up. I just want to know what's going on."

After a moment, he replied, "InterGlax works for the Cartel of Interior Territories, also know as CinTerr, which oversees the political, economic, and humanitarian aspects of the consortium of planetary nations. Once a planet achieves manned space travel outside their solar system, they will be officially welcomed into the cartel and allowed to send a representative to speak on their behalf. Until then, planets are categorized as a juvenile systems under the blanket protection of CinTerr."

"Juvenile," she repeated. "Like Earth?"

"Correct."

She shook her head. This conversation was too bizarre for words. "If Earth is still a juvenile, why do we need CinTerr's protection?"

"From rogue invaders."

She lifted her head. "Good God. Are you serious? You mean like Independence Day}"

"The galaxy is full of danger."

"Tell me about it." She ran a hand through her disaster of a bad hair day and finally gave up. "How does InterGlax fit in?"

"InterGlax is the enforcement organization used by CinTerr. They implement CinTerr policies for member systems and protect juvenile systems."

"Yeah well, I don't think InterGlax is doing a very good job. They were attacking those people."

Reene hesitated. "Please explain."

Lacey stared out into the night sky. "We rode inside one of the shippers through the portal. Our shipper contained an InterGlax fighter drone. So did all the others. When we arrived, the shippers opened and the fighters attacked. I'm pretty sure it was an ambush." She swallowed. "I think a lot of people died."

Reene replied, "That does not sound like InterGlax."

"Maybe InterGlax has changed," she said, recalling Zain's comment about InterGlax not always being the good guys. "How long was Zain with them?"

"Zain was an advance scout for over ten years. He followed the cartographers after they mapped each sector and collected military intelligence on the planets for CinTerr. Then CinTerr would categorize the planet."

"He told me that InterGlax wants him for the murder of his partner," she stated.

"That is correct," Reene replied. "There are also independent bounty hunters and assassins who would be rewarded for his capture or death."

She nodded. So Zain was completely alone, isolated, and one step ahead of the people hunting him. An oudaw. It all made sense. His aversion to InterGlax, his solitary lifestyle, and maybe even the nightmares. She wished he'd trusted her enough to tell her before. Of course, being an accused murderer didn't generally come up in casual conversation. She thought about asking Reene if Zain actually killed his last partner, but she wanted those answers from Zain.

She cast a glance to where he lay. The shadow of a beard wrapped around his square jaw and lips. Sadness swept over her at all the living he was missing on the lam. How many times a day did he look over his shoulder?

She stood up and walked over to check him. His head felt much cooler and his breathing steady. Beneath the Aritrox patches, the wounds on his back had stopped bleeding.

"Will he be okay?" she asked Reene.

"Please apply the med-vid film."

Lacey rolled out the film and waited.

"He will be fully recovered in approximately eight hours," Reene replied. "You did mighty fine."

She smiled at the irony of a computer's praise. Zain's mouth twitched, his color getting better with every passing minute. He'd survived near-death, probably an experience he was used to. She wasn't.

He had taken a huge risk, leaving the shipper to check out the action. She hadn't thought he'd make it back once the shooting began, hadn't thought she'd ever see him again. And in those moments when her life lay suspended, she'd experienced anger that he'd put himself at risk and frustration for the whole damn mess she was in. But mostly, she had been scared. Not like the paralyzing fear of heights or going through the portal. This was worse and far more dangerous.

She wanted nothing more than to see his dark eyes open and to hear his voice again. He had become more than her ticket home. Much more. Despite his stubbornness and taste for death-defying missions, she had grown to care about him. Maybe because he cared about her.

In fact, for the first time in her life, she felt like she could do almost anything. Maybe even love. And it wasn't that she didn't want to love. It just took too much out of her and there was so little left as it was. How much more of herself could she afford to lose?

But even as she reminded herself that she had a life back home to rebuild, her heart was doing a little dance. She was hopeless. Apparendy, her heart would never learn, never realize how much its mistakes cost the rest of her. She reached out and brushed hair from Zain's face.

New Year's Resolution #8: Do not fall in love with the alien.

Zain awoke with a start, the unwelcome effects of Aritrox resurrecting recent events. As he forced his eyes to focus, he realized he was aboard his ship. The bunk felt warm and comfortable under his belly. There was a soft furry weight against his shoulder that must be Oliver. He lifted his head and spotted Lacey asleep in her chair. She was safe.

"Reene?" he rasped.

"Yes, sir. How do you feel?"

"I hate Aritrox," he grumbled, laying his head back down.

Reene replied, "I am well aware of that, sir. However, you had significant wounds to your body which required immediate treatment."

Zain moved Oliver gently and rolled over on his back with some difficulty. His head took a while to register the change of position and he had to close his eyes to keep from spinning. He hated drugs. They robbed him of his control, leaving him at the mercy of his emotions. No way for a warrior to be.

"Zain?"

Lacey. Immediately, his unchecked body reacted to her voice and raw sexual energy swept over him. All it took was his name on her lips.

He opened his eyes to see her hovering over him. Black hair hung soft around her face. Blue, almond-shaped eyes focused on him and him alone. She cared about him. Still. Even after he'd told her about being a killer.

Gentle hands stroked his face. His mind registered her presence but his body registered her touch. No, he thought. Don't come closer. It's not safe.

"Don't," he pleaded, the word torn from his soul. She didn't have any idea what she was doing to him.

Her hand stilled for a moment, and she studied him intently. Then to his utter surprise, she leaned down and kissed him. He took her softness and gentleness as it lingered on his lips after she pulled away. In her compassionate eyes, he saw promise and hope and everything he'd longed for in the past few years. If he could capture it just once ...

Years of loneliness and solitude rushed back over him, feeding a fire he knew he had no way of controlling. All the hopes he'd pushed away, all the things he'd been denied ... Just once, he would like to take hold of one dream and run with it. But if he touched her, he would make her his. There would be no saving her. Desire and desperation mingled in a volatile brew through his blood. Unaware of the danger, Lacey smiled.

"I need you," he said in a harsh whisper.

She blinked at him. "Need me to what?"

Her scent swirled around him, goading him on. He clenched his fists, grappling for control he knew he didn't have. All he could think about was her skin next to his, the freedom she could give him, and the hunger that would not be satisfied without her.

"Touch me," he said, half out of his mind with need.

She gasped a little and stepped back, looking over his body before settling her gaze on his pants. Her eyes widened, and he cursed himself. He couldn't control his reaction to her, even if he tried. The Aritrox had exposed his most primal desire and she'd be wise to run, leaving him alone in his selfishness. It had killed Crista. It was bound to ruin Lacey too.

He closed his eyes and let the Aritrox play inside his head. Thoughts merged and scattered with every breath, refusing to follow orders to behave. Despite his best efforts, his body thrummed with unbridled anticipation, and the ache in his groin was becoming damn annoying.

"You'll have to move over," he heard through his drugged haze. He opened his eyes and focused on her face. She was back. Why?

She nudged his shoulder. "Move it, cowboy."

He shook his head, finally understanding what she was doing. No. He was too out of control and too hot. He didn't want to hurt her with his raging need.

"Don't," he said, managing to conjure the word past his body's impatience.

She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Tell me you don't want me."

He swallowed. Impossible. His body could no more deny it than his mind. But she deserved better, a man who would stay and take care of her. A man she could trust to never destroy her. All he could give her was more danger. Reality filled his mind. If InterGlax found them ...

"No."

"That's what I thought," she said. Then she drew a deliberate breath and pulled off her tank top.

All the air escaped his lungs in one long, unsteady whoosh. For a moment, he thought he was imagining her beautiful breasts-small and round with dark nipples that beckoned him. Then she slid her pants down and he groaned, his erection becoming torturous even through the painkiller. She had no idea what she was offering him. He should tell her he couldn't accept, right now. But as his gaze swept over her flared hips to the part of her that promised him ecstasy, he realized it was too late. He wasn't giving up this one chance. Hell would still be there tomorrow.

She climbed onto the bunk, straddling his aching body with hers. Her eyes were dark with desire as she skimmed his lips with hers. Soft fingertips traced his bare chest, exploring and tormenting.

He wanted to tuck her small body beneath his and take her properly, but unfortunately the only part of him paying attention was trapped inside his pants. He ran his drug-clumsy hands up her thighs and sleek skin. She was perfect, just like he knew she'd be. Up over her hips his hands slid, before spanning her waist and cupping her breasts. She took a quick breath as he found her nipples and rolled them gently between his fingers.

He had the strangest urge to say "mine."

She froze, her lips still touching his, while her breath shuddered. His fingers traced the sweet globes that fit impeccably into his palms. He guided one taut nipple to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip. He flicked it with his tongue, drawing a long "oh" from her.

"Beautiful," he whispered against her breast. Then his hand slid lower until he reached between her thighs and the fine black hair there. He felt her stiffen as his fingers found her nub and the soft, slick folds around it, parting them with fierce concentration and care.

Lacey's eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking on his. He used the pad of his fingers to press, rub, and circle. He watched her reaction in humble wonder. Her red lips parted and her eyes closed. A soft moan dragged itself from her, and her expression turned positively angelic. Satisfaction swept over him, assuaging his own rampant desire. He could do this to her, bring her such pleasure.

With every stroke, he felt the change in her body and the way she focused on the sensation and the moment. Her face was a veil of awe and agony. He waited, mesmerized by her journey, and driven by her passion. She drew a frantic breath, than another, muscles rigid and her face grimacing. A slow growl emanated from deep in her throat, and she climaxed in waves. Her face and breasts flushed as a look of absolute bliss rolled over her. Gratification swept through Zain, more powerful than any orgasm he'd ever had.

When she couldn't take any more, she collapsed on him. He could feel the shudder of her breath as she relaxed in his arms.

"I'm hurting you," she whispered moments later, and pushed herself off his chest. But he pulled her back down, pressing her breasts to his bare skin.