Page 184 of The First Spark
He smiled weakly. “Perhaps.”
“What can I do to repay you?”
As Julian’s eyes shifted to something over her shoulder, he let go of her hand. Kalie followed his gaze and gasped.
A trio of nurses in blood-spotted scrubs rolled a gurney through a door down the hall. Short brown hair stood out against the pile of thin hospital pillows. On the monitor hooked to the IV cart, a glowing line stretched across the screen, spiking with each heartbeat.
Kalie clapped a hand to her mouth, and a stunned smile crossed her lips.
She took a step towards Zane, but her grin fell away as she paused mid-stride, glancing at Julian.
He gave her a small smile. His voice was thick with emotion as he said, “Be happy, Kal. That’s all I ask.”
A steady,rhythmic beat chimed as Zane came to. Flowery aromas washed over him. He inhaled deeply, and the pleasant smell tangled with the sharp odor of ammonia and mint. The combination made him gag and swallow convulsively, but his throat was dry, and swallowing brought pain.
Voices warbled, and Zane struggled to focus. There were otherpeople. Alive? Dead? Something thin and scratchy rested on his bare chest. There was beeping in the distance. And… an argument. Harsh voices, a desperate plea. The voices were close, much closer than he’d thought.
Then a cry, and a crash, and?—
“You shouldn’t even be standing yet!”
That voice. More familiar than any of the others. His chest warmed at the sound of it, high and indignant as it was.
Someone made a choked sound, half-gasping, half-sobbing. There were footsteps, moving closer.
“Here, put your weight on me, come on.”
Something scuffled. “There he is! Sir, you shouldn’t be out of bed, you have to come with me?—”
“I have it under control.” Cool, collected. The voice of a leader. Again, that warmth in his chest flared. “Give us a moment, please.”
Kalie.
Everything came flooding back. The duel, the blade tearing through his gut, the death of Hewlett’s nephew, the pulser blasts thundering in his ears as darkness consumed his world.
Zane’s eyes flew wide.
A delicate pattern of interlaced metals twined across the warm panel of light in the ceiling above him. Zane scrambled upright, bashing his elbow against something hard. Gray winter light flooded through a half-shaded window, shining on sepia walls and sparkling medical equipment.
And in the shadow of the window…
Kalie. Alive. Bruised and pale, but bandaged andalive.
Zane’s breath rushed out of him.
But Mylis looked like hell.
“Zane!”
Kalie’s blackened eyes lit up, and she crossed the room quickly, dragging Mylis along with her. She stopped abruptly, though, at Mylis’s moan of pain as his bandaged foot slammed into the tile floor. Her lips twisted impatiently, but she slowed her pace, guiding him across the room. Tears and sweat dampened Mylis’s bruised cheeks ashe panted shallowly. His muscles were taut, and strain creased his face.
A chill snaked across Zane’s skin.
With Kalie shouldering Mylis’s weight—she was so much stronger than anyone gave her credit for, this brave, beautiful woman—they managed to maneuver him into the chair beside the bed. Mylis choked on a pained gasp as his back slammed into the cushion, and Zane passed him a pillow.
Then Kalie was in front of him, and it was her. Only her.
“You came back,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling.
