Page 62 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

I peered down at my arm, noting the steady trickle of blood coming from the wound. But a closer inspection revealed that the bullet had only clipped the side of my arm, removing any concern that it was still lodged inside. Though that did make me wonder where it had got to after it hit me.

While we’d been worrying about the gun and my arm, Denny had run off to the office to fetch a first aid kit, and she and Nichols got to work treating the wounded man. My master quickly claimed one of the gauze pads and pressed it to my arm. “Sorry,” he apologised, when I flinched away from him. “We need to stop the bleeding.” I nodded and did my best to stand still. The pain that I’d been so quick to dismiss when my master’s life had been in danger was now throbbing sharp and deep through my arm.

A short distance away, Goroz was organising his team, sending four of them over to the police to help round up the protestors, and another two to go and check on the terrified Halagals. Then he turned to us. He was making that clicking sound in his throat again, that signalled his approval of something, louder and sharper than it had been before. Was he pleased about being able to have a fight? Or about seeing the injured man? I really wasn’t sure what to make of his behaviour.

He regarded the wound on my arm, and then the man lying on the ground. The human was quieter now, and all too willingto cooperate with the two soldiers who were putting pressure on his wound, controlling the bleeding while they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

“You do not have combat training,” Goroz said to me, his tone flat, his eyes bright.

“No, I don’t,” I replied, knowing there was no point in denying it.

The clicking got louder. “You were shot,” he went on, his tail swishing back and forth. “And then you took the man’s gun and shot him.”

“Yes, I did,” I said, feeling even more confused now. What point was he trying to make?

Goroz turned to my master, who was largely ignoring the large Ranzor, his attention focused on my wound. “Your Vangravian saved your life,” he announced. “He has proven himself worthy. So now you can ask your commanding officer for permission to mate him.”

My master’s jaw dropped. He turned bright red, then glanced around at the other soldiers. Denny made a choking noise. Len’s mouth dropped open, and she stuttered out a confused, “What?” Nichols, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” my master mumbled. For my own part, I felt my scales ripple, and I ducked my head, the pain in my arm suddenly forgotten at Goroz’s words. The proud, opinionated warrior thought I wasworthy. He said I’d saved my master’s life. I felt a smile tugging at my lips as my master shyly met my gaze. Perhaps, on this strange planet, in this unexpected culture, my headstrong disobedience was an asset, rather than a flaw. Perhaps I was a good dimari after all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Zeke

“Holy shit, that’s crazy,” Gasrin said, tapping his bright yellow fingers on the table in the cramped office at the side of the camp. I suspected it was a form of self-soothing, born of his ongoing anxiety, so I refrained from asking him to stop, even though I found the sound annoying.

I’d just finished explaining to him and Ru what had happened that morning – an answer to their apprehension at the somewhat dishevelled appearance of the camp – and thankfully, all the troublemakers had been removed by now, with only two police cars remaining, the officers taking statements from the Halagals about what had happened. “It always amazes me that people can be so selfish when someone else needs help. They’re not even being asked to participate. All they have to do is keep their mouths shut and let someone else do the work, but apparently, even that’s too much to ask.”

“People are assholes,” Ru stated, far less generous in her estimation of everyday citizens than Gasrin was. “It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” She was sitting stiffly, both hands held awkwardly in her lap. She was trying hard to keep herprosthetic hand covered with her real one, apparently anxious about what I would think of the appendage. It was a slightly darker purple than her natural skin – different enough that it was fairly noticeable – and I hadn’t yet thought of a diplomatic way to tell her I didn’t give a shit what her hand looked like; I was just glad to see her alive and well.

“But how are you doing?” she asked, levelling a stern look my way. “Getting caught in the middle of a small riot doesn’t sound like a great thing for your mental health.” She’d been concerned ever since I’d told her that I was heading up this project, and to be honest, her reservations were entirely justified. The only reassurance I’d been able to give her was that it was a temporary trial to see how I handled it. If things went badly, then I’d take a step back and reassess.

At her question, my first reaction was to glance at Dax. He was seated beside me, and he reached over and squeezed my hand. Fuck, I’d be so lost without him. Even just that gentle touch was enough to ease some of my tension. “I was honestly surprised that I didn’t freak out over it,” I said to Ru, deciding there was no point in trying to put on a brave face. She’d see straight through any pretence anyway, and we’d been through enough together that I figured she had the right to an honest answer. “It’s the sort of thing that, by all rights, should have set me off. I don’t know… maybe it was the adrenaline that just kept me going? Maybe it was the knowledge that this was an actual emergency, rather than me just jumping at shadows? The PTSD certainly hasn’t gone away, and it never will, but it’s nice to see that-”

The office door was yanked open suddenly, slamming into the side of the building with a thud. I was out of my seat in an instant, a high pitched yelp bursting from me as I threw myself into the corner, my chair clutched in front of me as a shield.

Dax was on his feet a moment later, planting himself between me and the door, and I was dimly aware of Gasrin scurrying back to hide behind a stationery cupboard, with Ru on her feet, defending them both with another chair.

Through Dax’s legs, I caught a glimpse of Goroz standing in the doorway. He saw our reaction and immediately ducked his head, taking a step back. “I apologise,” he said – a rare and unexpected gesture for a Ranzor. “I forgot that you do not like to be startled.” Even in the midst of trying to control my panic, I was both surprised and a little baffled at the apology. Goroz was picking up Alliance social customs incredibly quickly for a species that had such a tendency to say exactly what they thought.

Thankfully, the intrusion didn’t throw me into a full panic attack, so I took a moment to take a few deep breaths, giving myself permission to remain sitting on the floor for another minute or so. That was something my psychologist had said; I needed to be kind to myself when things like this happened, since beating myself up for things that were beyond my control was only going to make my depression and anxiety worse. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but I was determined to give it a try. And somehow, it helped to know that Gasrin and Ru had both also had strong reactions to the interruption. It made my own reaction seem more reasonable.

“Did you need something urgent?” I asked Goroz. After this morning, I was still on edge about potential troublemakers, and Goroz wasn’t the type to create a fuss if there wasn’t a problem.

“I have received an update from Hazharu,” Goroz said. “Your ships have arrived and have joined the battle.” He lifted his arm tentatively, the comm on his wrist glowing faintly. “I thought perhaps you would like to see the video report?”

With an effort of will, I forced my shaking legs to stand, though I was aware I was clutching the edge of the tableto steady myself. “Oh. Yes, actually. That would be very interesting.” In truth, I was suddenly champing at the bit to know what was going on at Hazharu. I’d found out from Henderson that we’d sent a fleet of over a hundred ships to join the battle, the Alliance Military going all-out in response to the Culrads’ assertion that the easiest way to win the war would be to prevent the Nwandu from gaining a foothold.

“We’ll come outside,” I decided quickly, knowing that the office was going to start feeling very crowded if Goroz came inside as well.

I gave Ru a nod, but left her to decide when to put her chair down, and then said to them both, “Come out when you’re ready. No rush.” I put a hand on Dax’s shoulder and let him lead me out of the office. He was perfectly calm, not angry at Goroz for his mistake, not making too much fuss over my own reaction. He was ready and willing to lend support, but also getting extremely good at reading my moods, as to how severe a reaction he should have to the situation.

Actually, he’d been exceptionally calm all day. After getting shot, he’d allowed the paramedics to numb his wound and put a few stitches in it, but then firmly stated that he didn’t need any further treatment. He’d said he wanted to stay here with me. And it was such a rare thing to hear him say that hewantedanything that I’d immediately given in and allowed him to stay. I would certainly be keeping a close eye on his injury – and making sure he took both the painkillers and the antibiotics the paramedic had given him – but aside from that, he didn’t seem terribly bothered by the fact that he’d damn well been shot!

Outside, I checked to make sure none of the Halagals were too close. As much as this was their war, I didn’t want to let them view the footage until I knew exactly what it contained. Fortunately, most of the camp was still too caught up in cleaning up after the riot to pay us much attention.

A few minutes later, Ru and Gasrin came out. I’d had to gain a basic level of clearance from Henderson to invite them to the camp in the first place, and given what they already knew about the Nwandu, the Ranzors, and the Alliance’s own response to the situation, I didn’t expect there to be anything in Goroz’s report that they shouldn’t be seeing.