The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (20 page)

Julia permitted herself a single stroke of Mark’s cheek before running up the ramp and into Rescue one’s cockpit; the console lighting up before she’d sat in the pilot’s chair. “Phoenix City, this is Rescue one, over.”

“Go ahead, Rescue one.”

“We are on our way, heavy one status two.  Please have Doctor Peyton waiting in surgery.  Colonel Holden will need her expertise.”

“ETA?”

“Three hours, maybe less.”

Julia accelerated through Alonac-57’s atmosphere at the steepest angle possible and out into inky black, before lunging into the gauntlet of rocks that spilled across a vast stretch of space, like marbles over a playroom floor.

“Understood, Rescue one, Phoenix out.”

It seemed no time at all before Julia was out the other side of the field and increasing to top speed across the immensity of empty space, on her way to the portal coordinates.  She wondered absently if Mark could have flown that obstacle course any faster.  No doubt he’d have said he could.

Kate had him hooked up to a portable lifepack and was sitting watching the read outs when it started bleeping a high-pitched whistle.

“What’s happening?”

“Defib.”

Julia had heard that sound enough times to know what Kate said was true, and it chilled her to her bones.  She bit the inside of her cheek, knuckles white around the controls as the lifepack shocked Mark; the whoosh-thump-thud of the electricity jolting his heart and his body.  Silence filled the tiny ship as it flew unhindered in a beeline as its pilot pleaded with the universe to let her keep the man she loved.  The lifepack emitted a long bleep, then a shorter blip, followed by another and another.  Julia exhaled a ragged sound drenched in relief and gratitude.  Kate had brought Mark back.  And Julia turned her mind inwards to see if she could coax even more speed out of her glider.

Rescue one materialized in the Birdcage amid the blue lightning of the portal defusing down the ornate silver framework.  Julia had the ramp lowering before she’d touched down and Kate was updating the first response doctor as they wheeled Mark away to meet Doctor Peyton in the OR.  Her adrenalin was burned up and Julia collapsed over the console, closing her eyes for a moment.  They had made it.

Colonel Archer met Julia at the end of the Birdcage bridge after she’d moved Rescue one to its perch on the south wall.  Sarah’s concern was evident by the way she reached a hand out to Julia, but dropped it before it could make contact. “Wings, you did a great job.”

“Thanks.” Julia made the effort to smile, but it never formed on her lips. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on him.”

“It’ll be a while. Make sure you get some rest yourself.” Sarah called after her, Julia nodding absently as she jogged down the back stairs and along the corridor to the relocator at the end.

She came to with Doctor Peyton shaking her shoulder and calling her name.  She hadn’t noticed when she’d fallen asleep, didn’t think it was possible in the awful plastic chairs.  Julia sat up, stretching before rubbing her face in an effort to wake up fully.

“How is he?”

“He’ll pull through.” Doctor Peyton reassured with a soft chuckle. “It’s not the first time, or even the worst he’s put himself through. That’s one stubborn man you’ve gone and got yourself.”

“So I’ve been told.” Julia grimaced and got to her feet, unzipping her jacket and tugging down her tee where it had worked free of her waistband. “When can I see him?”

“He’s sleeping off the anesthetic.  It’ll be a good six hours yet.” Doctor Peyton eyed her with an air of professional assessment and gently turned her toward the exit. “He’s in good hands, go get some rest and come back after breakfast.”

Julia nodded, the tendrils of sleep lulling away any protests she would normally have made.

~*~

She lay curled in a fetal position within the borders of the silver floor tiles, while the shower’s hot water tributaries seared away the grime, blood, and dust from her skin; flowing down the invisible drain.  Her hair was plastered to her face as she shook with every scream of terror and panic that ripped itself free from her lungs.

An incalculable time later, feeling like an old balloon found under the couch three days after a party, Julia stood up and washed properly; tilted her face up to the water’s soft caress.  The temperature automatically lowered and she allowed herself to breath deep, using the ritual to pull her mind into focus again.  She stepped out and rubbed herself dry on a white fluffy towel that smelled like it had been laundered in a sun-warmed ocean breeze.

Dressed in clean jeans and a snug white tee, she reached for her leather jacket; only to recoil at its condition.  It was filthy, covered in a chalky paste of dust and Mark’s blood.  Julia cut off a sob and breathed deep ragged breaths, determined not to lose control of her emotions again.

Mark’s jacket hung on the back of the desk chair and Julia picked it up, clutching it to her chest and burying her nose in the collar.  His scent flooded her nostrils and memories of his warmth invaded her mind.  She groaned under the strength of them and shrugged into the jacket.  He wouldn’t mind, and she needed to feel him close to her. 

Julia looked at her own jacket.  It was unlikely she’d ever be able to wear it again without thinking of all she’d been through that day; without being reminded of how close she’d come to losing all she had found.  She picked it up with two fingers and dropped it in the trash can next to Mark’s desk, turned on her heel and fled the room in search of the light and company of the Mess hall.

She carried her tray of steak and salad, chocolate pudding, and a bottle of water to an empty balcony table in an isolated corner of the cavernous room.  She needed to eat to fuel her body, but did not require the experience of stimulating conversation.

“Wings?”

She jumped, not having heard Brendon’s approach; her bottle falling over to roll across the table.

“Sorry.” He grimaced, catching it one-handed while balancing an overloaded tray in the other.

Julia looked at him; waited for him to say his piece and leave her alone.

“I just checked in at the infirmary.” She tensed, breath caught in her throat.  Brendon looked crest-fallen and hastened to offer reassurance. “No, no, everything’s okay.  In fact, they’re great.  Colonel Holden’s doing really well.  Doctor Peyton is confident he will make a full recovery in no time at all.”

He shifted his tray to balance precariously on one splayed hand, so he could give her back her water and an awkward pat on the shoulder before moving on.  Julia let her breath out again and stared out across the ocean while she stabbed anything onto her fork.

She got to the observation level of the hospital building about two hours after she’d left it, feeling more physically able to deal with anything.  Or so she thought.

Mark slept; still and pale as a marble effigy on an ancient sarcophagus.  His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm; one that Julia was able to time her own to as she walked over to his bedside.  She brushed a gentle fingertip across his brow, the soft strands of black tickling her knuckles, and leaned in to kiss his lips.  They were warm and familiar but they didn’t willingly part beneath hers.  She sighed and Doctor Peyton looked up from her workstation by the door.

“He’s going to be fine.”

“Is it okay if I stay until he wakes up?”

“That won’t be for a while.”

“I don’t mind.” Julia murmured, her eyes on Mark’s face again.

“There’s a chair in the corner.”

She picked it up and placed it next to Mark’s bed on the opposite side from the monitors, leaned back and just let her eyes look at him…

“Julia?”

She jumped awake; Mark’s hand still in hers. “It’s okay, I’m here.  You’re in the infirmary on Phoenix.”

He hissed a breath through his teeth as he tried to sit up.

“No! Don’t move, oh God, you’ll tear something open again.”

“What happened?” He asked, resting his free hand palm up on his thigh.

“You were overdue for check-in.  Colonel Archer sent my team, Major Dawson, and two squads of Marines after you.”

“She must’ve been worried.”

“She wasn’t the only one.” Julia said sternly and he gave her hand a weak squeeze.

“So, you came after me?” He tried for a smile.

“You knew I would.”

“How are the others?”

She smiled, a faint lift of her lips that had Mark answering with his own crooked smirk.  “They’re fine, resting in their quarters.  Doctor Garrett got off lightly with a banged up head – no concussion.  Anora is battered and bruised with a sprained ankle.  And Hayden, well, Hayden’s Hayden.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He chuckled, only to grimace a second later and gingerly press a hand to his side. “And me?”

“You.” Julia’s brows drew together. “Gave me a fucking heart attack. Don’t you
ever
do that to me again.  And don’t go thinking that sexy smile of yours will get you out of the big trouble you’re in Mr.”

Her words were all hot air and they both knew it.  His sexy smile
was
working, and her heart thudded with joy to see it.

“Nice jacket.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” She tugged the open edges over her chest and crossed her arms. “I needed you with me.”

Mark shook his head. “It suits you, having me on your body.”

She stared at him.  His devilment was already returning and Julia knew then he would be fine.  She blushed, and kissed him gently on the lips.  But like the very young or the elderly, he had already drifted back to sleep.  Julia held his hand in hers; resting them on the blanket beside his thigh, and sat back in her chair, content just to look at him.

Doctor Peyton sent Julia to her own bed at twenty-two-hundred, reassuring her if anything should happen Julia would be the first one she radioed.  Julia removed her boots, jeans, and Mark’s jacket, and climbed under the covers before crashing into an exhausted sleep.

She woke in the dark; freezing and alone.  All the blankets kicked off and gooseflesh prickled her skin.  It was either still the middle of the graveyard shift, or extremely early.  Everyone and everything was sleeping – except her.  She needed Mark.  Julia had grown accustomed to sleeping against his warmth, without him, their bed was a cold and lonely place.  There was no help for it.  She pulled on her jeans, boots, and Mark’s jacket as she walked out the double doors of their quarters.

The relocator atomized her to the infirmary level and left her woozy from the blink of a trip.  Julia stood still, gripping the frame of the alcove for a moment until her mind settled back in her re-molecularized body, before walking the short distance to the infirmary entrance.  She was prepared to argue her way in and strode through the wide sliding doors if she owned the place.  A junior doctor nodded politely from his desk, taking the wind from her sails.  She offered a polite back and walked past him before he could think better of letting her in.

The ward had minimal lighting so the staff could work without injury and still allow the patients to sleep between rounds of fifteen-minute obs.  Of the five beds only two were occupied.  A woman Julia didn’t know yet, and Mark.  He was raised on two puffed pillows, his head facing the door and relaxed in sleep.  His lashes were two fans of color on his cheeks and his arms rested at his sides.

Her heart soared at the sight of him.  Though pale beneath his tan, his was whole and on the mend.  She tip-toed to the bedside chair, lifted and placed it soundlessly closer to the bed; love for him flooding her heart as she sat down and watched him sleep.  It didn’t pay to think about how close they’d come to being separated from each other forever.  Julia lay her head on her hands in the narrow space between his leg and the edge of the bed, closed her eyes and fell swiftly to sleep with her hair spreading across Mark’s lap.

His hand was combing through her hair from scalp to tips.  Julia didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but judging by the twinge in her lower back and the unattractive drool spot on the blanket, it had been a while.  She looked up to find Mark watching her with that sweet smile of his curving his lips.

“I had trouble sleeping too.” He croaked. “Took forever the second time.  When’d you get here?”

“Around three, I think.  You were out to it.”

“I wasn’t able to solve the problem the way your practical mind did.”

“Well, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed…” She teased and he chuckled. “Geez, woman, don’t make me laugh.”

He panted through his teeth as if he was practicing Lamaze, hand pressed flat against his side.  Julia waited for the pain to pass and him to look at her again.

“So…ummm…”

“Yes?” He looked up at her from under a raised eyebrow.

“Bet you’re glad your fiancé’s a rescue pilot now, aren’t you?”

She grinned as she stroked his narrow wrist between her thumb and forefinger, circling the prominent bone; memorizing even that small detail of him.

“Breakfast.” A bubbly nurse appeared, brandishing a covered tray.

“Saved by the bell, it seems.” Julia murmured loud enough for only Mark to hear.