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"What?"

Thrax looked up. His eyes were glassy as hell. He ripped the wand thing from my hand. His fingers were shaking as hepushed buttons, holding it over his head. Ever so slowly, the tenseness on his body and face ebbed away. He still looked more haggard than he had a few hours ago, but at least he seemed to be out of pain.

"Can I get you anything?" I offered, truly concerned because he looked like shit.

"This helped. Thank you."

I arched an eyebrow but refrained from challenging him for thanking me, an indication of how worried I was about him.

Still, I imagined he might want something to drink. We usually got our drinks and food from the nourishing station, as he called it, but I noticed an assortment of what could be alcohol held in metallic bottles on a shelf. I grabbed one at random and brought it over.

He gave me an amused nod. His hand was still slightly shaking when he pulled the stopper out and took a long sip. When he handed it back, I couldn't stop myself from taking first a whiff and then a sip. Yeah, definitely alcohol. Not bad, though. I wasn't much of a drinker. Not because I was a fitness trainer. I liked working out, but I wasn't a complete health nut and didn't watch what I ate or drank. Really, my workout routine was, actually, so I could eat whatever I wanted. But I had never been much of a drinker. I had never much cared for the feeling of losing control. Where others raved aboutletting loose, it felt more like a nightmare to me.

Right then, though, I felt like I needed a drink. Fuck that. Right then, I would have gladly gotten drunk because all this shit happening to Thrax and me was beginning to freak me out.

This name I couldn't pronounce, the one that sounded like a longer version of Hannah. Swahanua? Suawaanah? Swuhanah? It sounded right and perfect in my mind, but I knew it would come out garbled if I attempted to say it. Like when you know the sound of a song in your head, but when you're trying to sing it to someone to help you name it, it comes out all wrong.Anyway, that name unnerved me on a level I could not pinpoint. It set goose bumps all over my flesh, made me shiver on the inside, and yet filled me with warmth and… longing.

Yeah, I was about ready to totally freak out.

"You okay?" I asked Thrax, needing some resemblance of civility and rationality.Please tell me something is hurting you or that you're hungry or need a shower. Anything so we don't have to talk about you calling out this woman's name that sounded like mine but wasn't, or you stopping breathing, or my damn marks going haywire when you wereright there!my mind pleaded.

"No," he replied, holding out his hand for the bottle. Good, getting drunk was high on my list. Definitely higher than soulmates and soulmarks and crap like that.

"Well?" I tried to draw more out of him, but he remained stoically silent. I took another sip, savoring how the liquid burned down my throat. This stuff was more potent than anything I had tried on Earth. I should take it easy, I thought before taking another long swallow.

"I can't." Thrax looked up. It was probably my imagination, but I could have sworn his eyes were bloodshot, which should be impossible as they were totally black. "Every time I try to remember something, my head feels like it's going to split open."

"Remember what?" I asked.

"Anything about my past."

I frowned, sitting down on the edge of the beanbag recliner thing he was still lying on. "I don't understand."

"I dreamed," he said, confusing me even more. "I had a dream, but I can't remember. If I try, my head splits."

Part of what he said made sense. "I know that feeling. It's right on the tip of your tongue, but you can't put it in words." My frown deepened. "It's irritating but not head-splitting."

"For me, it is." His voice sounded defeated, not like him at all. "I don't have any memories of anything other than the last twentyish years of my life, working as a Space Guardian."

We'd thrown around that topic before. I remembered now. That was when the whole idea of lab babies came up. He hadn't taken it that badly when we talked about it earlier. Was this troubling him now? Or was it a combination of all the other shit?

"The thing is"—he took a deep breath—"in here"—his fist bumped against his chest where his heart was protected—"I know I had a life before."

"You do?" Why did that surprise me?

He nodded. " Suahaana."

That name again.

I clenched my fists.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. I only know that it hurts"—he touched his chest again—"when I think about her. A lot."

My nails dug into the soft part of my palms, but I didn't even register the pain as fury flushed through me. Suahaana had to be a girl, right? A woman? His wife?

But why the hell did that thought bother me that much?