“Get me out of these cuffs,” Parsons says.
The second Collins glances at the og’dal, I draw my blaster, shoot, and dive. I crash into a machine that doesn’t move against my weight, slowing my fall.
I peer across the floor. Collins stares back at me with lifeless eyes and a hole the size of my fist in his chest.
It takes much of my fading energy, but I send an emergency message through my com to the embassy, noting my location and the capture of an enemy agent. With my thoughts on Kenzie, I type out a personal message for her, until I can no longer keep my eyes open.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KENZIE
“Did you hear about the fight up on three, in the surgical wing?” Iolana asks as we change out of our scrubs in the women’s locker room at the hospital.
I shake my head. “The E/R was hopping tonight. A bomb could have gone off and I wouldn’t have noticed. Then Dr. Abrams sent me up to the flight deck for a critical patient. A guy came in, more dead than alive. He was in cardiac arrest and bleeding profusely from a rod in his head. We worked on him up there. Never made it down to the E/R.”
“Sorry. Losing a patient’s always tough.”
I lost two tonight. And my mom always said bad things come in threes. Which is why I’m glad my shift is finally over. I’m too mentally and physically exhausted to lose another patient. All I can think about is going home and falling into the arms of my warrior. Maybe have a good cry, too.
“Who was fighting up on three?” I ask as I tie my boots.
“Gina from ortho said there was some criminal on the loose. It took five security guards to tackle and hold him down. Theydestroyed tons of equipment in one of the operating rooms. The guy must have been on something.” Iolana tosses her scrubs into the soiled linen bin. “Wanna grab a bite? We can go to Clancy’s and listen to some gossip from the other nurses. Or start some,” she adds with a naughty smile.
“Too tired.” I push my head through the sweater and try to block out the images of that patient on the helipad. “Besides, I have someone waiting for me at home,” I add with a smile.
I should have taken the day off. Spent it with Kobrik. Though I’m not sure that would have given me any clarity. I want to be with him and yet I can’t imagine leaving my planet. Good or bad, it’s home. And then there’s my work. Sure, it bites that we lost two patients tonight, but we saved a nine-year-old girl earlier. That’s what I live for. Being needed, helping others.
“We are definitely going to Clancy’s later this week so you can give me all the details,” Iolana says as she shoves her dirty scrubs in the soiled linens bin.
“Goodnight, Iolana. Go unwind and tell me all the gossip tomorrow, okay?”
Her locker clicks shut. “Night, girl. See you tomorrow.” Iolana leaves the locker room.
As I tie my boots, the door opens and Iolana pops her head back in. “There’s a tall blue alien out here looking for you. Should I call security?” She whispered that last part.
My heart sails at the mention of Kobrik. I grab my keys and wallet from the locker and slam it shut. “No. Tell him I’ll be out in a sec.”
I stop in front of the mirror to make sure my hair is neat and to pinch my cheeks for some color so I don’t look worn out. Thoughts of Kobrik automatically put a smile on my face. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. He’s the one I’m meant to be with. I’m sure of it.
I fling the door open, ready to leap into his arms.
A huge zyanthan with tattoos across his chest and biceps stands there staring at me. He’s wearing a blaster on one hip, multiple knives, and a scowl a mile long. While he’s all serious and solemn compared to Kobrik who is cheery and optimistic, this guy is definitely a zyanthan warrior.
“Are you Kenzie Emsworth?” he asks, with the same accent as Kobrik’s.
“I am. What’s this about? Who are you?”
“I’m Marshal Zirkov. I’m stationed on Earth as part of an arrangement between your people and Galactic Intelligence. I’m come to escort you and answer any questions.”
“Escort me where? I’m not going anywhere without speaking to Kobrik first. Where is he?”
The warrior’s horns rise slowly, but not threateningly.
A shiver travels down my spine.
I’ve seen this look before. The one the doctors give to a family when we’ve lost a patient.
I surge forward. “Tell me! Where is he? Is he okay?”
