“Yes, sir.”
Cache didn’t say anything for the longest time, just stared—long enough for Nia to ask, “What?” belligerently without looking from her task.
“Since when have you known how to fly a Condor?”
“Mace taught me yesterday.”
Cache expelled a bark of a laugh. “I can see why he kept you.”
Nia’s hand pulled back. She shook her head, then resumed her task. “I need to focus here.”
“Yeah,” Cache agreed, then asked, “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”
“He’ll live,” Nia said with a small smile, the truth making her heart light. “He’ll live.”
Chapter forty-four
Fireenvelopedhisbackunlike anything Mace had ever experienced. An agonized bellow worked its way through his lung and lodged in his throat. Broken images filled his brain: the infiltration team, Nia arriving in a Condor, the attack from defenders.Fuck.
Must be dying.He’d come to the end of his run. It had been a good run, full of family, love, and successes, but he regretted not being able to share more of his life with Nia. If only he could see her face one last time…
Breathing through the pain, inhaling a medicinal scent, he opened his eyes. The room around him blurred. An outline of a med bed sharpened, gray bulkheads beyond. He tried to move, but only managed to lift his head, then gasped when new agony shot through his spine.
Hurried footsteps neared. Legs came into focus with small feet in flat black shoes. He knew those feet. Nia’s wan face came into view as she crouched in front of him, her eyes shiny with tears.
It’s true. I’m dying.She wouldn’t look so anguished otherwise.
He lifted his hand, tried to touch her face, pull on a curl, but all he got was another stab down his spine.
“Lie still,” she said, pressing a cool hand to his cheek. “The less you move the better.”
He tried to say her name, but a rasped sound escaped his lips instead.
“This will help.” She twisted off the top of a ration tube and held it to his mouth. Relief filled the insides of his cheeks and he swallowed. Soothing goo slid down his throat. Mace closed his eyes, then opened them again to make sure she hadn’t left.
If he was dying, if his time left on this plane were counted in minutes, then he needed to say a few things. “Nia,” he whispered, the word shaky.
“Shhhh.” She touched her finger to his lips, then pressed a dermal syringe in his neck.
Mace blinked. She’d shushed him? The thought melted away, the pain in his back receded, and his eyelids drooped. “Dona wanna sleep cuz imma dying.”
“You’re not dying.” The words preceded the hiss of another dermal syringe in his neck. “You might have, but I saved you.” The room brightened, then she added, “But you saved me first, so I guess we’re even.” A tinge of humor laced her words.
The bulkheads of a medical bay came into sharp focus. “What did you give me?”
“A stimulant. It will give you a few minutes of lucidity before the pain killer kicks in again.”
When she would have moved off, his hand snaked out to grab her wrist. She gasped. He pulled her close. “Why does it feel like my back has been ripped off?”
“Because it was.” She brushed her knuckles along his cheek. “You’ve got a sizable amount of new tissue growing right now, and you’re covered in regeneration gauze. You need to stay still,” she asserted. “Doctor’s orders.”
Mace took a deep breath, his spine protesting the expansion of his lungs. “You returned.”
His words brought her eye level. She rested her chin against the med bed in front of him. “I had to. There was an agent after me. I couldn’t get to my transport, and—”
“And you’ll go as soon as you have the chance? You’ll use Betel’s contacts to return to your family?”
She huffed a breath and shook her head. “No, I’m not going to do that.”
