by Susan Hayes
Tyra had spent time on colonies, stations, and planets across the galaxy, but she’d never been on a corporate-owned world before. She’d been too busy trying to fix the immediate problems she saw to really look at what was happening. She should have, though. She’d lost her parents to corporate greed when she was still a girl. She’d let herself be blinded to the truth. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to see it, because it would remind her too much of what she’d lost.
“What would happen if someone were to remove Nico’s chip? And maybe got rid of the tattoo that indicates he had one.”
Dante’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Bellex wouldn’t like it if you tried. As far as they’re concerned, he’s their property. They don’t give up their assets easily.”
“Believe me, I know all about that.” She didn’t want to remember how she’d learned that lesson, so she turned her attention elsewhere. “Will you let me check that cut? All you let me do was put some ointment and a dressing on it, and that was days ago. It might be infected.”
“You can check the cut right after you tell me why you changed topics so fast.”
She raised her gaze to find him staring down at her with interest. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“And I’d rather not have you poking at my owie. We don’t always get what we want in life.”
“Did you just call the three-inch gash on your arm an owie? Is that the official military term?”
“Nope. I’m sure there’s an official four-syllable word for it that involves two different acronyms and a whole lot of red tape.”
“If that cut is infected, you’re not going to be at your best tomorrow. It’s been brought to my attention that you’re my best chance of getting out of here in one piece. So, give me your arm, Sergeant. Now.”
“You’re adorable when you try to tell me what to do.” He grinned at her, then rolled up his sleeve to reveal his heavily muscled forearm and portions of at least two tattoos. When he reached the dressing, his movements slowed, and she noticed he was taking care not to press down on the injury.
“I’m not adorable at the best of times, and this is far from the best of anything. I’m tired, unbrushed, unwashed, and generally disheveled.”
“You’re still adorable. That’s my opinion, and it’s not going to change. Trust me, bigger, tougher beings than you have tried to change my mind before. It never works.”
“That would sound more intimidating if you weren’t the same the man who is kicking up a fuss because he doesn’t want me poking around his booboo.”
Once he had his sleeve out of the way, she eased the dressing off to take a look. “This is why you didn’t want me looking, isn’t it?” She gestured to the wound, which was looking red and slightly inflamed.
He shrugged. “It’s a minor infection. It’s not like my arm is going to rot off before we’re back on the Malora.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not the doctor here. I can name a half-dozen bacteria that could actually cause that to happen, and three of them exist on this planet. You should have told me.” She got to her feet, retrieved her bag from the table where she’d left it, and brought it back with her, along with one of the light cubes.
He watched her in silence until she settled beside him again, then moved in close and laid his injured arm across her lap. It was the closest they’d been since he’d kissed her, and the memory of that moment made her pulse kick up a notch.
She retrieved a fresh dressing pack, some antibacterial wipes, and the last of her ointment from the pack and laid them out beside her. “Once we’re safe, I want to take another look at you. The ship’s med-bay will have healing accelerant and everything else I need to fix you up, right?”
Dante sat a little straighter. “My baby’s got a fully equipped med-bay, complete with a brand-new diagnostic computer program and an auto-surgery pod.”
“Your baby? I thought the Malora was an IAF ship.” She kept talking as she cleaned the wound, pausing now and then to shine the light over the area.
“She is. But I’m her pilot. I miss being in the cockpit.” Dante raised his hand and skimmed it through the air like a child imitating a ship in flight. “That was my dream when I was a kid. I was obsessed with anything that flew. Skimmers, military vessels, freighters—I had every type and model memorized.”
“So you joined the IAF to become a pilot?” she asked as she worked. It was easier to do her job if her patient was distracted, but she was also curious.
He laughed, a deep booming sound that warmed her soul. “Fraxx, no. I was recruited for the infantry. My job was to shoot things until I ran out of ammo, then punch them until we won or I died, whichever came first. I didn’t start flight training until after I was seconded to Nova Force.”
“Interesting description of your career. Why did you choose it if it wasn’t what you dreamed of doing?” She’d known she would be a doctor from an early age. The accident that killed her mother and crippled her father had determined her path, and she hadn’t let anything get in the way.
“Lack of options, mostly. My dad wasn’t much of a family man. He left for good before I could walk. My mom, she tried, but she was really only good at two things: singing on stage and falling in love with losers. I joined the IAF because a recruiter I knew pointed out that my careers as a cage fighter and part-time enforcer for the local criminal element were going to lead to a short, violent life, so why not sign up? I’d still live a short, violent life, but I’d be paid well and fed even better.”
“You were a cage fighter? As in, bare-knuckle brawling, smash the other guy’s face in, last one standing gets the prize?” There were fight clubs and organized matches in just about every place she’d ever visited. In a galaxy where almost everything was legal so long as the corporations got their share; pharma, fighting, gambling, and the sex trade were all highly profitable, and popular, pastimes. She was no saint, but there was something about watching beings deliberately hurt each other that twisted her stomach into knots.
“I was, yeah.” He tapped a thick finger to the crooked bridge of his nose. “I’ll have you know my face was busted by professionals.”
“More than once, by the look of it.” She gently stroked her finger down the side of his nose. “I could reset that for you if you wanted me to.”
He didn’t move as she touched him, his gaze never leaving her face. “I like it this way. Reminds me of where I came from.”
“I like it, too.” She moved her hand away and dropped her gaze. She kept her head down and her eyes firmly locked on his injury until it was redressed and covered in the last of her sealant.
Across the room, Nico stirred and muttered something incoherent in his sleep.
“He’s probably dreaming about burgers,” Dante joked.
“No doubt. Or the desserts Oran promised him.” She looked over at Nico, then back to Dante. “You’re good with him. And with the other kids, too. Do you have any of your own?”
“Veth, no. No kids. My life is too crazy for anything like that. I couldn’t even manage to keep my marriage intact.”
“You were married?”
“For a brief time, yeah. My marriage imploded because I changed careers.”
She could understand how that could happen. They were very different people, but their careers had similarities. They were both nomads, going where they were sent to do jobs that required long hours and total commitment. She glanced down at his arm as she made a quiet confession. “At least you gave it a shot. I never even got close.”
“You were focused on helping others. Nothing wrong with that.” He chuckled. “Besides, according to all my friends, you never know when the right person will come along. They keep telling me all I need to do is keep my eyes open.”
“You, too, huh?”
“All the time.” He shifted a little closer to her. “I’ve got a complaint, doc.”
“What is it? Is the sealant stinging too much?” She looked up to find him watchi
ng her with a grin that put his dimples on full display.
“No, it’s fine. I just realized that you got me to talk about myself this whole time, and the deal was you were supposed to be telling me how you know so much about corporations wanting to hold onto their assets.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to anything like that,” she replied with a grin of her own.
“So, it’s going to be like that, huh? I’m a trained investigator, Shortcake. I will find out what I want to know.”
“You’re welcome to try, but I doubt you’ll get far. Especially if you’re going to keep calling me that ridiculous nickname.”
“What’s wrong with Shortcake? It’s sweet, delicious, and well…short. Just like you. If you don’t like it, what about Tiny Tyra? Mini Medic?”
She glowered. “Not funny. I don’t go around calling you Sergeant Stubborn or Muscle Mountain.”
He snorted with laughter, muffling it behind his hand until he composed himself again. “Okay, point taken. Though honestly, I kind of like that last one.”
“You would.” She finished putting away her supplies and had to stifle a yawn as she turned off the light cube she’d brought, leaving the room far darker.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yeah. But we need to stay awake in case something happens, right?”
“Only one of us needs to be awake at a time. Get some rest, short—Tyra. I’ll wake you up in a few hours so I can grab some shuteye.”
“Promise you’ll wake me up to take a shift?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek in one massive hand. “If I need to sleep, I’ll wake you.” He leaned toward her and for a moment she thought he might kiss her again, but all he did was touch his lips to her hair before letting go of her again. “Get some rest.”
She considered moving, but the truth was she didn’t want to leave Dante’s side. He was a comforting presence in this strange, threatening world she’d been thrown into. “Would you mind if I slept here, beside you? I don’t want to disturb Oran or Nico.”
It was the weakest excuse she’d ever used, but Dante didn’t call her on it. “Not a problem.” He lifted her backpack and set it down beside his thigh. “This will work as a pillow. You going to be warm enough?”
“I’ll be fine.” The building was warm during the day, but the nights were cold enough she’d miss the threadbare blanket Nico had given her to use as a bedroll.
“Now who’s being stubborn?” He skinned off his shirt, revealing a heavily muscled chest covered in tattoos. Some of them were words in Galactic Standard, others looked like Torski symbols, and she could make out a bird of prey soaring across his ribcage.
“You’re going to be cold if I take your shirt,” she argued.
“I’m part Torski, which means I run hotter than humans. I’ll be fine. Take it.” He patted the floor beside him in invitation.
She curled up next to him, her head on the makeshift pillow, and he draped the shirt over her like a blanket. It was still warm and smelled of him, a lingering scent of cloves and spices. “When it’s my turn to take a watch, I’ll give this back to you, so you can sleep in comfort.”
“Sounds good.”
She closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, Dante laid his hand on her shoulder and used his thumb to stroke a pattern of soothing circles across her skin.
“Sleep now. I’ll be right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m here, Tyra. I promise.”
She believed him. He might be stubborn and pushy, but he was also the reason they were all alive right now. It had been years since she’d trusted anyone to take care of her, but she trusted him. “One day, when this is all over, will you tell me about your tattoos? They’re beautiful.”
“Have a drink with me when we’re back on the Malora, and I’ll tell you all about them. Good night, Shortcake.”
“Night, Muscles.” The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the soft sound of his laughter.
Chapter Five
Dante was on his way to the ship’s small gym when he heard Tyra talking to someone farther up the corridor. In a move that was getting to be a habit, he turned on his heel and ducked into the first room that was open. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. If anything, it was the opposite. Since their kiss, he hadn’t been able to go five minutes without thinking of her, and that was a serious problem.
She hadn’t slept well that night they’d spent in hiding. Each time she got restless, he’d put his hand on her shoulder or stroked her hair until she quieted again. He’d stayed awake all night, watching over her and the others while they slept. He was honored that she trusted him to protect her when she was at her most vulnerable. The problem was she was still vulnerable and would be until this mission was over. Until then, he couldn’t allow himself to get distracted again. If he did, he risked losing her before he got a chance to know her better, and he wanted that more than he liked to admit. Every time he considered tracking her down and kissing her senseless again, he reminded himself why he was staying away. It was the only way to keep her safe.
It had been two days since they’d returned to the Malora, and the entire team was stuck onboard, waiting for clearance to proceed. Dax hadn’t gotten permission to bring the shuttle in to pick up Dante and his charges. He’d ordered the mission anyway, and Bellex had retaliated by burying the team in red tape.
The only one enjoying the current state of affairs was Nico. He roamed the ship at will, but his favorite places to be were the mess and the ship’s entertainment lounge. He spent a fair bit of time with Tyra, too, and he always seemed to know when Dante was in the cockpit of the Malora. He’d come by to chat with him for hours about anything and everything that passed through his young head.
“You hiding from the kid, the doctor, or both?” Dax asked from the shadows. Dante hadn’t noticed him until his commander spoke and turned away from the viewing port to look his way.
Dante bristled. “I don’t hide from anyone, sir.”
“Then you’re doing a remarkably good imitation of it right now. You’ve been ducking into rooms and lurking behind corners since you got back.” Dax folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. “As a friend, that concerns me. As your commanding officer, it looks like an issue I need to resolve. So, what the fraxx is going on with you, Buttercup?”
“Off the record?”
Dax nodded. “Computer, lock the door to this room.” He issued the command and pointed to the table and chairs that took up most of the available space. “Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m just trying to put some distance between myself and Dr. Li right now.”
“Personality conflict? I know you were having trouble getting her to listen to you down there. If that’s the case, you two need to figure it out. She’s volunteered to stick around and help us on this case, and we could really use her help.”
Dante grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Conflict? Uh, no. That’s not the issue.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You remember the mission to Victor Base?”
Dax nodded. “It was only a few months ago, of course I remember. That’s where we learned about the Gray Men and we all damned near died.”
“And you reconnected with Trinity, which complicated things,” Dante added.
“Yeah.” Dax grinned. “She was worth almost dying for.” It took a moment for him to get the point Dante was making. “Wait. You and the doctor got uh, complicated?”
“Nothing happened. I mean, I kissed her once, but then we got attacked. An attack that occurred because I let myself get distracted.”
“I read your report. The most likely scenario is that one of the people she tried to help gave you all up for a reward. If you had really been distracted, you wouldn’t have been prepared for that possibility. You had a plan, and it kept you all safe until we got to you. Mission ac
complished.”
“I should have insisted she stop treating people. Kept her safely stashed away until pickup. Because I didn’t do that, we got attacked,” Dante said.
“Maybe.” Dax rapped the tabletop with his knuckles. “But you know better than to let the bad days get to you. I know that’s easier said than done, but it’s important to keep perspective. You did good work down there. You saved three lives and brought us the one person who has seen cobalt and its effects. Without Dr. Li, we’d still be in the dark.”
“Not that it does us much good to know what to look for when we can’t get back on the planet.” Dante thumped his fist on the still-shiny surface of the table in frustration.
“Actually, we can, but it means we’re going to have Bellex visitors onboard. I received our clearance a few minutes ago. I was deciding who to send down when you came in.”
“I volunteer.” This was exactly what he wanted. Off this ship and back to work.
“I figured you would. As your friend, I think you should stay here. If you’ve got feelings for the doctor, then hiding from her isn’t going to do either of you any good.” Dax sighed. “But as your commander, I know you’re more useful to the mission dirtside. Get packed, you leave in thirty minutes. That should get you off the ship before our guests arrive. If you’re headed back to the planet, I don’t want the Bellex reps seeing your face. You’re staying off the books for the time being.”
“That’s fine by me. Who are you sending with me?”
“You’ll go with Blink and Sabre. Trip is going to stay here and give your doctor a hand with the research side of things. Trinity and I will deal with the corporate types. One of them is just a representative, the other is a Bellex-backed doctor who wants to help us with the investigation.”
Dante snorted. “Tyra’s going to love that.”
“Speaking of, are you going to tell her or the kid you’re leaving? As your friend, I’m strongly recommending you do so.”
