by Starla Night
“Flechette grenades are common in the Colony Wars,” Kyan said. “Not on Earth.”
“I researched threats on planets with a weak dragon presence.”
Which would certainly include planets under dispute in the Colony Wars.
“The coat restricts movement. I stopped wearing it.”
“Until a historic merger threatened the bedrock of dragon society,” Alex said.
“And because I did not want to show a true security officer my inexperience.” Syenite looked away.
Some devices in his coat were common. Others were obscure. So, he had been carrying the rare wand because he wanted to appear experienced in front of Kyan?
It had worked. Kyan had credited him with well above his experience level. Multiple times.
“I wear the most common devices in something my girlfriend designed called a ‘utility belt.’ It is less bulky. She can lift it herself.”
Kyan blinked.
Girlfriend?
Carnelian dragons courted local females, but he had never seen Syenite in their company. “Human?”
Syenite nodded. “She doesn’t mind my…” He gestured at his eyes. “I have not seen her since the merger. I have not left Chrysoberyl’s side. She grows dissatisfied with my absence.”
That matched Kyan’s understanding of human females. Laura had become extremely dissatisfied after not seeing him for sixty hours.
And it also removed several of Syenite’s possible motives for the attack. He would not wish his girlfriend’s planet to fall under military rule. She had accepted his eyes. He would not hate the humans.
Had Kyan misread him?
Alex grinned without mirth. “Let’s solve this mystery so you can leave Chrysoberyl’s side and meet her.”
Syenite nodded.
“We must identify the source of the flechette grenade,” Kyan said. “That is no ordinary weapon.”
“Collectors exist amongst aristocrats. Perhaps the grenade was the only one in our attacker’s arsenal.”
“What of the distress calls to the Gnashing Teeth? And the post identifying Laura to the cultists?” Human police had been unable to trace its origin.
Alex leaned on his elbows. “You now know it is not the other attempting to start a war.”
Kyan met Syenite’s eyes. The meshed colors no longer forced him to flinch or look away.
The fallen aristocrat stared Kyan in the face. He’d long ago lost his discomfort with Kyan’s scars.
They still did not trust each other, but much had changed. There was hope of trust in the future.
“Good.” Alex stood. “Then, if you agree to share your information, my work here is done.”
They worked together in fits and starts. Trying out ideas that fit the facts and then discovering more facts to make new theories. They worked through the night and reached an impasse.
Kyan checked the time.
Laura would be ending her shift soon. Even though he shouldn’t, he reviewed her tracker location.
The hospital.
In a few hours, Amber would confront him. Rather than executing his plans to escape the Empress, he was still here, working together with his former prime suspect.
His mind wandered.
“Why ‘girlfriend’?” he asked Syenite. The human term had no equivalent in dragon culture. “Has she not accepted your claim?”
Syenite looked up. His startling eyes caught Kyan by surprise but he looked at the table quickly as though too-aware of his impact. “She has.”
“Why are you not engaged?”
“She says both parties must date for at least a year or else a marriage won’t last. Therefore, in seventy-six days I will propose. She will accept.”
“You know how?”
“She has accepted me.”
“You believe her?”
“I have chosen to believe.” He fixed Kyan with a hard look. “She is worthy of my faith.”
She is worthy of my faith.
By refusing Laura, Kyan protected himself — and declared her unworthy.
She was worthy.
He was the unworthy one.
She had proved over and over that her heart was larger, more open, and more generous than his would ever be. She accepted him with both arms open. Loving him with her entire soul.
How could she?
Life mated to him would be impossible. She might be targeted by crazed cultists or a mastermind bomber. His new lair might be compromised. She would never be safe.
But as this investigation had proved, he was not Flint.
He’d been wrong about Syenite. He’d been wrong about his “impenetrable” lair. He’d been wrong about the control and integrity consistently demonstrated by the fallen aristocrats at Carnelian Clothiers.
Perhaps he was also wrong about himself.
He might be worthy of her love.
Keeping close might protect her.
Their life together might be difficult. Not impossible.
And her presence might just save him. Not from the Empress’s marriage proposal. From a lifetime of fighting the wrong wars against himself.
“What are we missing?” Syenite asked, focused on the investigation. He had a human girlfriend he wished to see. The sooner the better.
Kyan suddenly felt the same way.
“Maybe the obvious.” Kyan leaned forward, energized. “I assumed our bomber was a mastermind. But perhaps he is an amateur. His first ‘attack’ was an empty celebration popper I triggered.”
No. That was wrong.
“There was a delay between my touching the popper and its explosion.”
“They can be activated remotely,” Syenite said. “The remote detonation device is a small, black ball on a loop. It is unmistakable.”
“Then the flechette grenade in the hospital placed too late to strike a dragon target. Improper reconnaissance?”
“Wasting such a rare weapon would not be the work of an amateur,” Syenite said. “That would be total incompetence.”
Total incompetence?
Yet it had resulted in him taking the worst of a flechette grenade, later losing his lair, and nearly losing Laura along with it. Only her determination to heal an injured pilot had saved her life.
Luck. It all came down to luck.
And that was unacceptable.
He checked her location again. Obsessively.
Still the hospital.
“What if the luck was in the attack’s success?” Syenite asked. “First, hurting you. Then in giving a description to the warship that happened to match your lair.”
Reviewing the attacks through the lens of total incompetence rather than a diabolical game, a new suspect began to form.
Kyan reviewed the distress calls to the Gnashing Teeth. They had originated in the Onyx Corporation offices and traveled across dragon networks. He’d assumed the criminals had ghosted his network. No one would be so stupid as to use their personal terminals.
But the perpetrator had.
Syenite stared at his conclusion, then flicked his sober gaze to Kyan. “There is one other aspect you are not considering.”
Kyan prepared to confront his new prime suspect. “What?”
“If the attacker is this incompetent, he might not have realized the flechette grenade would only be activated by dragon stellarium.”
“How stupid…” But he couldn’t complete the sentence. A new nightmare was beginning.
The suspect had slipped his surveillance.
Syenite continued. “The target of the flechette grenade then would not have been a dragon. It would have been a human.”
He checked his trackers. Everyone was where they were supposed to be. His siblings were on their way to the office for the morning. Laura was still at the hospital.
Odd.
How many hours since her shift had ended?
“And there is only one human who could have been the flechette grenade’s target.” Syenite spoke the words that shredded Kyan’s he
art. “Laura.”
Chapter Nineteen
Laura’s shift started out normal.
It helped to keep busy and not think about the things — or dragons — she couldn’t control.
Asthma attack in Room 7 responding to oxygen, steroids, and a new inhaler. Probable broken foot in Room 8 waiting on X-rays. Septic scare not responding to rehydration in Room 9, transfer to the intensive care unit imminent. And she was tidying Room 10 from a pretty nasty norovirus with projectile vomiting and diarrhea — which she’d dodged, but the adolescent’s mother might never wear those jeans or shoes again — when Galina stopped by the room.
She did the 1000-yard stare of a nurse who had smelled worse but still reacted to the sour stink of a digestive mishap.
“Is this room clear of biohazards?”
“Yes, but to be safe, I called the team.”
She nodded and glanced down the hall. “Your transfer is here.”
“On my way.”
Galina fell into fast step beside her. Laura signed off on the transfer paperwork, Galina double-checked it, and her very sick patient headed off to the next stage of care.
“Two rooms clear. And the other two?”
“Waiting on X-rays and…” Laura checked her watch. “Five minutes on the asthma and that will also be good to go.”
“Tell Sabrina.”
“I already have.”
Galina allowed herself a brief smile. “You’re doing well. A few days off cleared your head.”
It was true. Not in the way Galina meant. But getting attacked, kidnapped, blown up, kidnapped again, and rescued had given her a new confidence. Here at Saint General Restoration, she knew what she needed to do. The guesswork was contained to making the best health decisions for her patients — not begging a furious military dragon to spare her planet.
Treating the simple maladies of his bridge crew hadn’t hurt her confidence either.
Kyan’s face when he’d rescued her meshed with his cold gaze when they were breaking up. Hurt panged her chest. She shook herself.
“We might turn you into an ER nurse yet.” Galina saw something over Laura’s shoulder. Her smile disappeared.
Laura turned.
Dr. Richard bore down on them, his symmetrical features tanned and a white smile Laura could just tell was going to irritate her.
“Looks like you ladies enjoyed my vacation if you have time for a gab-fest. Don’t gossip about me too hard.”
Laura had enjoyed his vacation.
She turned on her heel and headed to her next assignment.
“Hey, Blondie. Blondie, wait.” He grabbed her hand.
The X-rays were coming back so Galina continued to the exam room.
Laura spun to face Dr. Richard. “What?”
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“No.”
His brows rose.
The bustle crowded them. He pulled Laura to the side of the hallway between empty gurneys.
“With an uncollegial attitude like that, it sounds like someone doesn’t care about her recommendation.”
Her blood boiled. She channeled Whitney. “Was there any actual chance of me getting a recommendation?”
He blinked. “If you deserved one.”
“You’ve made no secret that I’m not fit for nursing. You can’t even remember my name.”
He looked non-plussed. “Blondie is a pet name.”
“Is that what I am? Your pet?”
“Well, no—”
“Because it’s disrespectful. And furthermore,” she lifted the hand that he was still holding, “you’re harassing me.”
He let go like it burned. “Just because I took your hand—”
“And also because you implied that you wanted to give me a physical, you held a conversation with me while I was in the women’s locker room, and you’ve cornered me multiple times to deliver comments that are not only inappropriate for a professional environment, they’re also creepy.”
His mouth flapped.
“I don’t want to report you for harassment.”
“Report!”
“I want to finish this clinical, get my degree, and become a travel nurse. The first intergalactic travel nurse, in fact. I’d appreciate support for my dreams.”
His mouth closed as though she’d finally said something reasonable. “You’re not going into the ED?”
“No. Valuable as I think it is, I have other plans.”
“Good.”
She braced for a jerk comment that proved he’d make the last month of her clinical even more miserable than the first months.
“You have a good bedside manner. It will get more exercise in a less hectic environment.”
He actually sounded normal. And he wasn’t giving her his usual smarmy grin.
She spoke cautiously. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” Worry darkened the wrinkles around his eyes. “Say. Can I talk to you after your shift?”
No. She’d had enough of him talking to her on her shifts. He could not talk to her after her shift.
“In the cafeteria.” He put his hands up. “Just a coffee. I’m not hitting on you, Laura. I want to explain something.”
So he actually did know her name. “…Okay.”
“Good.” He nodded at Galina exiting from the exam room. “I better let you get back to your preceptor.”
She escaped.
What the heck was going on? He was almost normal?
If he creeped on her in the cafeteria, she was out of there so fast the whole hospital would spin.
Their paths didn’t cross for the rest of her busy shift and, afterward, she landed at her car on autopilot.
Sigh.
She tossed her belongings into the repaired sedan with a groan and returned to the hospital. Was this a mistake? The dread in the pit of her stomach said so.
Dr. Richard was waiting for her in the cafeteria, both feet tapping nervously. When he saw her he stood and waved.
As if she could overlook him.
The morning coffee vendor had set up so she ordered a double. It wasn’t a Cinnamon Gold Car Bomb, but it would keep her awake through the next few minutes.
“What’s that?” Dr. Richard asked, making small talk as she sat down.
She channeled Kyan. They might be broken up, but he was still useful. “Coffee.”
“Black coffee?”
She stared at Dr. Richard over the rim of her white cup.
He looked down at his nervously tangling hands. “I, uh, asked you here because I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’m playing a role.” His expression twisted into that weird grin she knew and hated. “Dr. McDreamy is an ER stereotype.”
“You’re not dreamy.”
“Hah!” He coughed as though she had surprised him. “I didn’t start out this way. The problem was my residency.”
She raised one brow.
“In the last weeks, a supervisor discovered my orientation.” He picked at his clipped nails. “In her mind, a gay man couldn’t become a doctor. She made false reports. I barely got my degree.”
So he was gay? And a bad residency caused him to make life hard for all new nurses?
“My partner thinks I overcompensate.” He chuckled dryly. It tapered to an unhappy sigh. “I guess he’s right.”
“You made my predecessor quit.”
He looked up. “She stole opioids.”
“I stole opioids.”
“You returned them.”
“So you didn’t harass her into quitting?”
“No.” He raked a hand through his sandy hair. “I told her she could leave or I’d report her. She chose to leave.”
And so Galina had assumed the reason was his attitude.
“Please don’t report me,” he pleaded. “I can’t afford more marks on my record. This hospital, this ED has been my home. I can’t start over.”
Maybe it was the double hitting her veins, but she felt confident and clear-headed. She knew exactly w
hat needed to be said.
“Don’t harass any more nurses. And give new ones a chance. We don’t get much choice over where we do our clinicals. You should guide instead of criticize.”
He nodded.
“And stop being creepy. You’re the supervisor. Don’t perpetuate the abuse.”
He rubbed his hair again. “I’ll tone it down.”
“Turn it off.”
“I’ll … do that.” The lines around his eyes, which she’d never noticed, were honest too. He was probably exhausting himself from trying to play that stupid role. “Then, you won’t report me for harassment? Or the other things I told you?”
“We have four more weeks.” She did not promise anything. “Let’s make them collegial.”
He blinked and frowned pensively, twisting his hands again. “What happened to you? I heard about the stabbing.”
“That was nothing.” She sipped her coffee. “Cultists vandalized my apartment and cut the brakes on my car.”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “That’s what happened?”
“And then, in the middle of setting a double shoulder dislocation, my safe house got blown up and I was held hostage at gunpoint.”
His brows rose.
“It was all a misunderstanding.”
“That’s a heck of a misunderstanding.”
“So, that’s what happened to me.” She rose. “I just want to pass this clinical.”
He rose too. “I’ll see what I can do.”
They didn’t shake hands, but they’d passed a normal half hour. Maybe it was possible to get along.
She couldn’t reach out to Kyan, but she could reach out to Dr. Richard, fix his mistakes, and they could end the clinical with a new understanding.
And she was finally coming into her own.
Leaving the hospital once more, less than an hour after her shift ended, she exited the ED and ran into Chrysoberyl.
Wearing a fancy black suit with silver and red embroidery, the multi-pierced, bald dragon was unmistakable.
The shock was so great that she actually said aloud, “What are you doing here?”
And then it occurred to her that he wasn’t her patient, so it was none of her business.
But he oriented on her and set his shoulders. “I need your assistance.”
“I’m not allowed to treat you.”
