Clan and Conscience by Tracy St John

Author:Tracy St John [John, Tracy St]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Jol opened his eyes, wincing against the pain in his aching chest. Ancestors, it hurt to breathe. He stared at the bland white ceiling, a carousel of instruments hanging over him like a mad scientist’s chandelier. He was in a medical facility. As that knowledge dawned, he recalled the battle in the valley against the syndicate strongmen.

He inhaled sharply, waking a greater, pulsing agony. Ignoring it, Jol tried to sit up and found he couldn’t. He was held by a stasis field.

He could move his head, however, and he scanned his surroundings. Panic subsided as his frantic gaze locked on Ospar. The Dramok sat next to his medi-bed, his cheek pillowed on his forearms on the mattress pad Jol lay upon. Ospar snored softly, sleeping at the Nobek’s side.

Jol smiled at the slumbering man. Except for some scratches on his face and arms, left bare by the short-sleeve shirt he wore, Ospar appeared unscathed.

Relieved, Jol considered his own state of well-being. His inspected his bare torso. The brown skin was blackened with massive bruising. A livid red line in the middle of contusion showed where his flesh had split open where the blast had hit. If it hadn’t been for the armored vest he’d worn beneath his shirt, Jol would have died. He must have come near to doing so anyway.

He remembered Ospar kneeling over him, trading fire with their enemies and begging Jol not to leave him. Jol contemplated the dozing Dramok again, the rush of adoration making it as hard to breathe as the agony he was in. He’d sworn to protect Ospar and had done so to the utmost of his abilities. He’d never expected his vow to be reciprocated.

They’d both lived to tell the tale. Now, in the midst of rhythmically beeping monitors in the dimly-lit room, Jol mused over what might come next.

His gaze lingered over the lines of the other’s face. In sleep, Ospar was as handsome as ever. Damn if he even appeared cute. Without the mask of calculated charm he wore most of his waking moments, Ospar veered close to the sin of adorableness. Jol would have laughed if he hadn’t hurt so much.

Looking at him tightened Jol’s chest. He started to reach to stroke the Dramok’s hair, forgetting he was immobilized by stasis. Not being able to touch Ospar brought a pang of grief from out of nowhere.

“Damn you,” Jol muttered at the unaware sleeper. “What have you done to me?”

Despite speaking quietly, his words roused Ospar. The Dramok blinked awake and focused on Jol. Without moving from his pillow of crossed arms, he smiled. “Well, hello. It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the job.”

Hating the strengthless voice that emanated from him, Jol said, “I expected to wake in the halls of the ancestors.”

“You aren’t escaping me that easily.” The cocksure and irrepressible charm had returned, stretching Ospar’s expression in an insolent grin. The impression of cuteness dissipated.

Jol grinned back. “I guess I’ll have to turn in my Nobek card.

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