Not for anything would she reveal how much concern was overtaking the anger. “You’re an idiot. What if you can’t heal this? Was killing one merc worth your life?”
“Depends on the merc,” he managed.
But the blood on his lips had her shoving him down onto her bunk. He winced as he landed but seemed to relax when he realized she wasn’t going to pummel him. Dred had no idea what to do for a punctured lung or broken ribs. Shit, they didn’t even have pain meds, no medical treatment of any kind.
“If you weren’t so hurt, I’d have you bound and be lashing you in public by now.”
“What’d I say before, love? No time for sex-pain games.”
“Is everything a joke to you? I won’t have you undermining me like this. It’s bad enough that we’ve got this shit to deal with. I can’t have you—”
But he was already unconscious. It would serve him right if she left him to live or die on his regenerative ability, and she wrestled with the decision longer than she would’ve liked. In the end, she put Tam, Martine, and Ike in charge of Queensland and returned to her quarters with broth from the Kitchen-mate and a pot of sweetleaf tea. When she’d snuffed out so many lives, it was laughable that she was in charge of saving his, and it wasn’t like when he was poisoned and she only had to breathe for him. But at base, she understood that she was the reason he was suffering at the moment—because he’d saved her.
Time to return the favor.
He was out for twelve hours, long enough for her to wonder if he’d wake up again. She remembered what he’d said about falling into a coma, though, so maybe his body was repairing the damage. Dred spooned broth and tea down his throat, knowing it was important to keep him hydrated. She was still angry with him, but it was hard to keep the rage at a fever pitch when you were responsible for someone else’s welfare.
He’s dulling my sharp edges.
It would be smarter to kill him in his sleep, before he breached her emotional perimeter completely. But even as it occurred to her, she knew she wouldn’t do it. Prudence and caution had flown away when it came to Jael. He wasn’t just the new fish she’d recruited because he fought like a demon. His speed and strength were beside the point. Exhaustion stole over her, and she lay down beside him, muted fury still simmering in her head.
It was the middle of the next downtime when he woke. Dred registered the change in his breathing even in her sleep and propped up on an elbow to peer at him. The lights were low, just lines along the base of the wall to keep her from stumbling fresh from sleep. In the pale glow, his color was a little better, and he was no longer soaked in pain sweat.
“It looks like I’ll live,” he said, sounding surprised.
“Possibly. You still have a lashing to get through.”
“We both know that’s not going to happen. If you punish me, everyone will discover that I acted without your authority. They’ll think you can’t keep your dog on a leash, love. And that’ll wreck the image Tam’s spent so much time crafting.”
Dred rolled over him nimbly. “I didn’t say it would be public.”
His expression was . . . priceless. “You mean to do it in here?”
“You will learn to talk to me,” she said quietly. “You will discover you can’t make unilateral moves without consulting me.”
“You think pain will teach me?” His mouth curved in a lopsided smile. “It’s been my tutor every day of my life, and I never seem to learn. But if it’ll make you feel better—”
Epiphany crashed over her. Normal discipline wouldn’t work on him. Tying him to a pole and going to work with a whip would only drive a wedge, make him more convinced he couldn’t rely on anyone but himself. Whatever he told himself, that’s why he did this. To prove that I’ll turn on him—that I can’t be trusted. So what am I going to do with you? It was obvious she couldn’t punish him, and he was hurt already.
So she did the hardest thing imaginable. She told him the truth. “I’m angry because I was worried about you. I don’t want to care, but I do. And it makes me sick to my stomach.”
He lost the devil-may-care air immediately. In fact, he looked as if he’d taken a blow to the sternum. “Caring?”
“Especially about someone who has so little regard for himself, who seems to think he’s disposable.”
“Aren’t I?”
“Not to me.”
“Then you’re too dependent on my freakish abilities for your own good, queenie.” He made a valiant effort to rebuild his walls.
Not this time.
“Your physiology has nothing to do with why you’re important to me. Let’s have that shirt off.”
Jael seemed stunned as she helped him out of the sweat-soaked clothing. Her gentleness had reached him. He needs to feel like he matters, maybe more than anyone else in here. Dred recognized the hunger; she’d known it a time or two when her parents were distracted with other problems. He’s never had anyone in his corner. There’s always a price, always a point where betrayal becomes inevitable. If discipline and punishment couldn’t reach him, maybe kindness could. She’d had good parents. Dred remembered what it looked and sounded like. Let this work. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him undermine me, and I can’t defend Queensland alone. In economical motions, she dipped a rag in cool water and perched on the bunk beside him. The covers revealed the deep bruising on his side, now faded as if it had been several days instead of hours.
“I’ve no idea what you’re about,” he said in a shattered tone.
“Just a quick bath. It should tide you over until you’re strong enough to shower.”
With careful motions, she washed every inch of him, and it was beyond intimate, done in silence. He watched her hands sweep over his body with a ravenous, bewildered expression, and that was exactly what she intended. By the time she finished, he was obviously stirred up. She sat back with a faint smile.
“I don’t know if that was brilliant or diabolical,” he murmured.
“Bit of both?”
“Definitely.” He tried to pull her hands back to his chest, but she resisted. “Especially if you intend to leave me this way.”
“That depends on you,” she said softly. “I can make you very happy. Or I can leave you be. What happens next hinges on your answer.”
“What’s the question?”
She flattened her hands on either side of his head, leaning down so their faces were close. “Promise me you’ll never do that again. Promise you’ll talk to me first.”
“If I do?” He raised a brow, trying to seem unconcerned, but she glimpsed his shaken aspect, echoed by the glimmering sparks of emotion streaming off him, too strong for her sixth sense to ignore.
“Then I’ll forgive you, and we’ll have make-up sex.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I leave you to recover and go about my business. But I’ll never trust you again.”
He seemed perplexed, slightly incredulous. “It’s as simple as that. You’d believe me if I promised? How do you know I won’t lie?”
“I can tell,” she reminded him.
Jael drew in a deeper breath than he could when he first returned, another sign that his healing had kicked in, albeit slowly. “Then I promise. I won’t go rogue again. And . . . I’m sorry.” From the way he rushed the words, she suspected he’d never said them before.
“Forgiven. Scoot over.” He did so, looking puzzled, but he was in no shape to orchestrate the sex she’d promised. “I’ll be slow and careful with you.”
“Then you will kill me.”
Dred stroked her bare fingers everywhere she’d touched first with the damp cloth, and he shivered, lit up from the inside with longing. It was obvious he was ready to dispense with the preliminaries . . . but she wasn’t. So she followed the path she’d blazed with fingertips with her lips, until he was trembling.