by Susan Hayes
“Not a chance. You’re staying put. You had a pneumothorax and it’s going to take some time to heal.”
“I had a what? Use smaller words, please. I’m the cannon fodder, remember?”
Her brow furrowed. “You’re a lot more than that. And a pneumothorax is a punctured lung.”
“I did? Must have done that when I broke the chair, or maybe when I charged the guy holding my blaster.”
“You did what?” She stared at him in amazement. “Was that necessary?”
“Well, yeah. If he was going to shoot anyone with my own damned weapon, it was going to be me, not my teammates.”
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe. But I also know that I couldn’t live with myself if my mistake cost one of my friends their life.”
As much as she wanted to, Tyra couldn’t argue with his logic. “Speaking of your friends. I should let them know you’re awake. They’ll be happy to hear it, and I know the commander wants a brief summary of what happened to you tonight.” She held up a warning finger. “A brief one, you hear me? The pain-blockers are keeping you comfortable, but you went through some serious trauma tonight. You need to rest.”
“I hear you.” He grinned, though she could already see he was starting to tire. “I like it when you try to boss me around.”
“While you were gone, I got promoted to full team status. You know what that means?”
He shook his head, still grinning.
“I did some reading on IAF rules while I was waiting for you to wake up. It turns out that when it comes to the health of this team, I have complete autonomy. Not only do I outrank you, Sergeant, I outrank everyone on this ship.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed, his expression as mutinous as Nico’s when someone tried to suggest he’d eaten enough burgers for one day. “I don’t think Rossi is going to be on board with your interpretation of the rules.”
She made an airy, dismissive wave with her hand. “Oh, I already discussed it with him. He’s in agreement.”
“Fraxx. I was gone one day, and you’re already conspiring with my commander?”
“You were gone longer than that, Dante. We might have been on the same ship, but you left me alone long before you headed back to the surface.”
“I know. That’s one of the things I need to make up for once I’m out of this bed. I’m not good at multitasking. I try to focus on one thing at a time, and I thought the mission had to be my focus.” He gave her a wry, but tired, smile. “Right before I blacked out, it occurred to me that I might have my priorities wrong.”
“Next time you need a little clarity, how about skipping the part where you nearly lose your life?” She stroked her fingers over his cheek, being careful to avoid his injuries.
“Deal.” He turned his head, pressing his cheek against her fingers. “Next time, I’ll come to you first.”
“You’d better. Patching up your owies is getting to be a habit.” She let her hand linger for a few more seconds, but she could see Dante was starting to fade, and he still needed to talk to Dax before he could rest again. Eventually, she moved her hand from his face and eased her fingers out of his grip. “I should let the commander know you’re awake.”
“Yeah. I need to tell him what happened, and who we need to look out for.” His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Hey, how’s the analysis of the cobalt sample coming? You have it, right?”
“What sample?”
Dante tried to sit up again, but this time he remembered the restraints and stopped himself. “Dammit. I need to talk to Rossi, now. They were going to inject me with cobalt, but I knocked it out of the guy’s hand. If it wasn’t bagged as evidence, then it’s still down there!”
She put a hand on his good shoulder. “I’m sure they brought anything they thought might be relevant. You relax and try not to get yourself too worked up. Your system doesn’t need more stress.”
“Dante?” a sleepy voice interrupted before she could say anything else. “Dante! You’re awake.”
Nico bounded out of bed and was at Dante’s side in seconds. “You okay? Doc Li says you was shot.”
“I was, but Dr. Li fixed me up. I’m going to be fine, kid.”
Nico looked up at her as if seeking confirmation. “Really?”
She nodded. “Really, truly. He’s going to be in the med-bay for a day or two, but that’s all. He’ll be back in the cockpit, ready to give you flying lessons, in no time.”
“I get to fly the ship?” Nico’s eyes lit up like stars.
“Maybe. But there’s a rule that you have to get a solid eight hours of sleep a night to be a pilot.” Dante raised his dark brows. “I heard you’ve been sneaking out of bed to check on me. You keep doing that, I can’t let you sit in the pilot’s seat.”
Nico nodded hard. “I’ll sleep now. Promise.”
“That’s good. Do you think you could stay with Dante for a few minutes while I contact the commander and tell him Dante’s awake?” Tyra asked.
“I can do that. Did I really know ‘bout you before Fido did?” Nico asked, clearly thrilled at the idea.
“You did.” She left the boy beside Dante’s bed and called Commander Rossi to give him the news. While she spoke, she watched Dante and Nico. He might be one of the most dangerous men she’d ever met, but he had a soft heart hidden under all those muscles. For the next while, the two of them would be spending a lot of time together. She intended to use that time to get to know Dante Strak, the man, before he turned back into Sgt. Strak, the stubborn soldier.
Chapter Ten
By the next day, Dante had come to realize that mandatory bed rest under Tyra’s watch was like being in prison, only with better food and a far nicer view. She’d finally agreed to raise the bed so he could sit up, which meant he could watch her as she moved from station to station around the med-bay, doing countless tests to the cobalt sample his team had found while they were saving his ass. She talked to him as she worked, telling him what she was doing, what she was learning, and slowly, as the hours passed, the conversation drifted to other topics.
“I don’t think I told you this yet, but the tattoo on your shoulder didn’t survive. The tissue should be fully healed by tonight, but the symbols can’t be regenerated the same way.”
“Yeah, I figured. It’s not the first time I’ve had to get one of my tattoos redone. Hazard of the profession.”
“Can I ask what it was?” she asked.
“They were the Torski symbols for strength and courage. Warrior is on there too, but that’s more on my shoulder blade, so it’s probably okay.”
“Do you want to see for yourself? I should take a look and ensure everything’s healing as it should, anyway.”
“You’re letting me out of this damned restraining field?”
She held up a finger. “Just while I check on your progress. If I’m happy with what I see, we can talk about maybe letting you up long enough to have a brief shower.”
Right now, a shower sounded better than an all-expenses-paid vacation on a pleasure planet. “I’ll take every second of freedom I can get. I’m not used to staying still this long.”
“You’ll be free of this bed, and me, soon enough.” Tyra tapped a code into the bed’s control console. The system beeped twice, but nothing else changed.
He didn’t bother confirming that the field was down. Instead, he sat up and reached for Tyra, hauling her into his arms. She didn’t manage to utter more than a surprised squeak before he kissed her, cutting off any protest. The moment their mouths met he knew he’d been a fraxxing idiot to stay away from her. He should have been getting to know her and stealing as many kisses as she’d let him. It had taken getting shot to make him realize how stupid he’d been.
Nearly dying wasn’t a new experience for him. Having regrets though, that was new. Every time he’d roused during the ride back, he’d thought about Tyra. How he’d stepped back when he should have been stepping up. He’d told himself she was a distraction, but pushing her a
way hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her.
He explored her mouth with his lips and tongue as his hands moved over her body, learning her curves and the sweet taste of her lips as he indulged himself in their kiss. She leaned into him, one hand resting on his uninjured shoulder as she kissed him back. Veth, yes. For one perfect moment he forgot about everything, losing himself in the glory of having her back in his arms. That’s when an ear-piercing alarm sounded, killing the moment.
“What the hell is that noise?”
“Your heart rate is too high. The bio-monitor is set to sound an alarm if there are any sudden changes to your readings.”
He flung back the blankets and left the bed. “That’s it. I’m sick of this place. I can’t even kiss you without alarms going off. I’m fine. See? Standing on my own and everything.”
“Dante Alexander Razlan Strak, get your ass back in that bed right now!”
He grinned down at her, amused and aroused by her attempt to boss him around. “Do you really think using my full name is going to make me more obedient? It never worked for my mother, and it’s not going to work for you, Shortcake.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “If you overdo it, you’re going to be stuck in that bed for longer than either of us would like.” Then, her expression softened, her eyes showing a hint of worry as she gently pushed against his chest. “Please get back in bed and let me see how you’re doing. You took a beating last night, and the only thing keeping you on your feet right now are pain-blockers and your unbelievable stubbornness.”
He caught her hand and covered it with his. “One more kiss, first?”
“You promise to get back in bed afterward?”
For another kiss, he’d do damned near anything she asked him to. “I promise.”
“Okay.” This time, she kissed him. She fisted the front of the hospital gown he’d been forced to wear and rose up on her toes, pulling him down to meet her. He was more than happy to oblige, closing the distance between them. He held back enough to let her be the one to initiate the kiss, but once that happened, he took over. He speared his fingers into her hair and used his good arm to haul her in tight against his body, relishing the way her soft curves fit against him.
Her kiss was a better drug than any pain-blocker, and more addictive, too. She uttered a tiny moan and parted her lips, allowing him to take the kiss deeper. Their tongues danced, every breath mingling, bodies pressed together so tight he swore he could feel her heart racing beneath her ribs.
Somewhere behind him came the unmistakable sound of a door opening, followed by a horrified groan. “Oh, fraxx. My eyes. I can never unsee that. For the love of gravity, Buttercup, cover your ass!”
Dante lifted his mouth a scant fraction of an inch away from Tyra’s to mutter, “If you don’t like it, leave. In fact, go anyway. Consider that an order, Ensign.”
“I could, but then you don’t get to hear the update Rossi sent me to give you. You might outrank me, but he outranks us both.”
“And as I’ve already mentioned, when it comes to your treatment, I outrank everyone.” Tyra let go of him, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment. “I believe the deal was for one kiss, Muscles. You’ve had your kiss. It’s time to hold up your end of the bargain.”
“I wasn’t done with you, yet,” he complained. He got back into bed, though, then turned to glare at Eric, who was standing at the door grinning like an idiot. “And you have lousy fraxxing timing.”
“Sorry, Muscles. Next time I’ll knock.”
“If you value your liver, that name better never come out of your mouth again. Forget it.” Dante snapped.
“You’d rather be named after a weed with yellow flowers?” Tyra asked, trying to suppress her laughter.
“I’d rather be called Dante, but there’s some unwritten rule in the IAF that everyone needs a fraxxing nickname. Just like there’s some rule that says patients in a med-center have to wear stupid gown-things that don’t cover a man’s ass.” He frowned at Tyra. “Why is that?”
“It helps keep difficult patients in bed, where they’re supposed to be.”
“She’s got you there,” Magi said. He wandered over to the bed beside Dante and leaned against it. “All kidding aside, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. You had us worried.”
“You should know better than to worry about me. I’m too stubborn to die easy.”
Tyra stepped between them and fixed Eric with a stern look. “You only get to stay if you don’t get him too worked up over anything. Dante, are you okay with me doing the examination while he’s here?”
“Yeah. I want to hear the update, and you should hear it, too.”
“Alright then, sergeant. Lean forward and I’ll undo the fastening so you can get out of that gown.”
He almost made a joke about her wanting him naked, but something told him it wasn’t the right moment. Probably the fact she’d gone back to calling him by his rank instead of his name. If she wanted him to behave while they had company, he’d do that for her. He held still while she undid the back of his gown, then shrugged it off, leaving his chest bare.
It was the first time he’d seen the damage. Even with healing accelerants and tissue regeneration, his shoulder was still a mess. Swaths of tender pink skin broke up the broad slashes of tattooed ink, the damage spanning not just his shoulder, but across his pectoral region, down his bicep, and judging by the tenderness, partway up his neck, too.
Magi whistled. “Damn man. You look worse than I did after Victor Base.”
Dante ignored him and looked to Tyra. “You did a nice job of patching me up. I should have said this before, but thank you.”
“I did my job. Hopefully I don’t have to do it again any time soon.” She carefully probed the edges of his injury with her fingers. “You’re healing well, but you’re not ready to go back on duty yet. The damage was deep, and it’s going to take time to heal properly.”
As eager as he was to get back to work, he wasn’t sorry to hear he needed to stick around the med-bay. It gave him an excuse to stay in her company, and that wasn’t a bad thing. “Can I have that shower you mentioned earlier?”
“Maybe.” She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Can you agree to try and stay in bed if I say yes?”
“I’ll try.”
“In that case, once Eric’s gone, you can shower.” She checked his newly repaired hand, hummed in approval, and gestured for him to dress again. “I’ll finish my exam then, too. I need to take some scans to see how your ribs and lung are healing.”
She left his side and went to type something into the console she’d claimed as her personal workspace.
“Okay, Magi. What do you know?”
Eric moved in close and lowered his voice. “For one thing? I know you’re fraxxing lucky Dr. Li was here. She talked Sabre through your treatment from the moment they got you on the shuttle. To hear him tell it, you wouldn’t have made it without her. I’ve never seen him rattled before, but after you went into surgery, he went straight to the mess and started pouring shots. It took three before his hands stopped shaking.”
“She told me Sabre and Blink had me stable before I was on board. That she didn’t do anything but patch me up.”
Magi shook his head. “Not the way I heard it. I think your pretty doctor is being too modest.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
Eric nodded, then raised his voice again. “While you were lying around medical, Rossi, West, and I spent a long, sleepless night figuring out what happened to you. After you were drugged, they moved you to an unregistered craft, which is how they got you out of the district so fast. The only reason we know that is because we managed to track it for a while after it left the place the team found you, but it eventually dropped off the scanners.”
“I thought the Malora could track damned near anything?”
“It can. Which means not only was it unregistered, it must have been fitted with modified shielding.”
&nbs
p; “That’s black-market tech.”
Uh huh. Just like that privacy screen your captor was using. Whoever these people are, they’ve got money and some very interesting toys.”
“Speaking of tech, did you get anything from that fraxxing chip they shoved into me while I was tied up?” Tyra had already confirmed she’d removed the damned thing while she was fixing him up, which had been a relief to know.
“Not much. It was partially destroyed by the blast that charbroiled your shoulder. There’s no way to pull any data off of it or any clues as to where it was manufactured. All I was able to find were trace amounts of P32 and JX9.”
“Use real words, Magi, or I’ll piss off the doc by overexerting myself when I kick your ass.”
“They’re two of the ingredients found in micro-explosives.”
“That son of a starbeast put a bomb in my neck?” He had a sudden urge to punch something. “When we find him again, I’m going to make him regret that.”
“It looks that way, yeah. I hate to say it but getting shot might have saved your ass. It destroyed the triggering mechanism before anyone could make you go boom.”
Tyra cleared her throat. “I’m going to interject here and state that as your doctor, I don’t recommend getting shot to prevent yourself from being exploded. How about you try to avoid both scenarios for a while? At least until you’ve healed?”
“I make no promises, but I will try.” Despite her teasing words, Dante heard the undertone of worry in her voice. He liked that she cared enough to worry. He just hoped that this time, he’d found a woman strong enough to accept that his line of work came with risks. Danger was part of the job, and the job was part of him.
“Good. I’d hate to have to turn the restraining field back on so soon.” Tyra would never admit it, but she’d enjoyed having the big, tough soldier restrained and at her mercy. Not that she’d done anything unprofessional. The most intimate thing she’d done was using a cloth and a cleansing agent to wipe away the worst of the blood and other grime from his upper body while he slept. It had given her a few moments to appreciate both his hard body and the beautiful tattoos that covered it. It had also let her see the scars he bore.