Jaxar
Chapter 5

Jaxar:

He could not explain it, the pleasure he took when the female fussed and frowned at the machine. A sentimental grin spread across his face and he knew that if Rohn ever saw, he'd never let Jaxar live it down. He did not care.

He liked the way her eyes flashed with irritation and the way, under the grime, color rose in her cheeks. She spoke her mind and if she felt intimidated by his physical presence-most civilians flinched or instinctively lowered their eyes when speaking to a Mahdfel-she gave no sign. He even liked the honest, earthy scent of stagnant water and sweat. Not that bit, not the stink, but the smell of her underneath the stink. The Vanessa bits that smelled of hard work and just a touch of rich, lush soil.

They had only exchanged a few words. Her gracing him with her name felt like a hard-won prize. He liked her.

His heart lurched as the ground in front of the vehicles exploded. Dirt and debris rained down, clattering as they struck the roof. He pulled hard on the wheel, jerking the vehicle to the side and slammed on the breaks. Vanessa's vehicle disappeared into a crater.

Every moment in his life crystallized into sharp detail and he appealed to the universe to be kind. If his mate survived he had no doubt that the female would be his-he would spend every breath worshipping her.

He would hide her away and keep her safe. No more hostile moon bases. No more Suhlik raids. No more plunging into smoking craters.

Jaxar dashed to the edge of the pit, the ground crumbling under his boots. Flames flickered at the bottom as a pocket of gas burned. Wedged against a boulder, Vanessa's vehicle rested on its side. The wheels spun fruitlessly. A dozen hazards flashed through his mind, from a ruptured fuel cell to another bomb dropping on their heads, and finally to the boulder being hellstone. "Vanessa!" he shouted.

He breathed deeply, tasting the air. The building gas level in the crater promised an explosion, soon.

Sandy soil scattered under his fingers as he clambered down and the sharp edges of brittle rock sliced his palms. His female hung by the vehicle's safety harness, unconscious. Blood matted her short hair into a lumpy mess.

Wasting no time, he wrenched the door open, the battered metal not wanting to comply. With a utility knife from his pocket, he sliced through the harness. Roughly-instinct shouted for him to be gentle but there was no time he grabbed her arm and pulled her free. Perhaps he should have assessed her injuries, but he detected the unmistakable bitter odor of leaking fuel. Her head bounced against the door frame as he pulled her free.

With no time to worry about fractured ribs or the distressing trickle of blood from her nose as he positioned her across his shoulders. Using one hand to keep her in place, he scrambled up the slope. More rocks and dirt crumbled away as he climbed.

Another blast shook the ground, sending him sliding back down into the pit. Acrid smoke and burning fuel grew stronger. Time was running out. Growling, determined to protect his female, he sank his fingers into the red soil and clawed his way out.

Coming over the top, he rolled Vanessa onto her back. He had some notion to catalog her injuries and determine if it was wiser to bring her to Medical or summon a medic to their location. Humans were too fragile, and he was no medic. Though he had once argued with a stubborn medic that bodies were just another type of machine, he knew enough to recognize that he knew nothing.

A boom erupted from the pit, followed by leaping flames. The heat scorched his back as he shielded the prone Vanessa. They couldn't stay there. That much was obvious.

Using his comm unit, he informed Medical he was bringing in an injured Terran casualty and carried Vanessa to his vehicle. He desperately hoped that his efforts to help had not injured her further. Vanessa:

Vanessa was warm and clean, snuggled under blankets. The mattress was a dream, like a cloud, and she didn't want to wake because being awake meant pain. A familiar disconnect separated her mind from her body, a comfortable haze that could only mean drugs, which meant a hospital, which also meant pain. The haze wrapped around her and dragged her back down into oblivion.

Who was she to resist?

***

Fevered dreams seized her.

Lizards with golden skin prowled about her, searching. The rank stench of algae clouded her senses, then twisted into a bright, antiseptic scent. It was wrong, it was wrong, and she shouldn't be there. Van's heart thudded so loudly she was positive they could hear it, so she ran, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. The pounding of her heart became the pounding of her feet on pavement as she ran away from the long-ago chaos on the freeway and away from her parents and home, another child lost in the confusion, and toward the unknown.

A warm hand squeezed hers, anchoring her, no longer lost but found. A gentle voice told her she was safe.

She believed him.

***

Van drifted awake, aware of voices arguing nearby. She wanted to tell them to quiet down, but her tongue was coated in sand and didn't want to comply. "Your help was no help at all," a male voice said, his tone sharp and irritated.

"She would have perished from exposure or fire if we waited for you," another male snapped back. Van recognized that voice. It was her mechanic, Jaxar. "Did you try to put the fire out with your face? You look ridiculous."

"What part of a bomb blast do you fail to understand?" Jaxar asked.

"Go get cleaned up. Field hospitals are hard enough to keep sterile without your filth."

The voices growled, like dogs trying to assert dominance. At least that's how it struck Van. Havik never liked the comparison. Didn't stop it from being true, though.

"The female is not your mate," the unknown male said, compassion seeping into his voice.

Mate? That pierced through the haze. Van tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy and her arms might as well have been tied down with lead weights. "She is my responsibility."

A pause. A murmur that almost sounded like sympathy. "The female is safe for the moment. You cannot protect her when you are injured and exhausted." "My injuries are superficial."

"Perhaps. When she wakes, do you wish to greet her with a face covered in grime and dried blood?"

"It is not mine," Jaxar said, his tone shifting from argumentative to acquiescence. Such a funny word, it probably had French roots, even though it didn't have anything to do with water despite sounding like aqueduct and that's when Van realized she was highly medicated and should probably go back to sleep.

"Decorated in the blood of your enemies is not as attractive as you think, or so my mate tells me."

***

The world was too loud and too bright.

Van turned her face into the pillow to hide.

"Oh, good, you are awake." The blanket was roughly yanked away, and the bed rose, moving her into a seated position.

Van blinked, a sleepy crust thick on her eyelashes. Someone pressed a water cube to her mouth. Guided by instinct, she chewed, and the water burst over her parched tongue. She had questions, but her throat hurt. Her everything hurt. "Save your voice. I know what you will say." A Mahdfel with a plum complexion stood at the side of her bed. His hair was shorn on the sides and the longer hair on top pulled back. He wore a white coat, the universal sign of a doctor. "I am Medic Kalen Halse. Do you remember your vehicle being hit?"

She nodded, then winced as her brain bounced around her skull.

"Do not do that," the doctor said sharply. She tossed him a sharper look and he huffed with amusement. "You have a concussion. Headache is common, as is nausea, poor coordination and balance. It will pass. Your ribs, however, are bruised. You are very fortunate. No lifting for a week. Rest."

"I can't," she croaked.

"You can and will." He paused. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Vanessa. Van." Her throat hurt and she had never felt so thirsty in her life.

The doctor handed her another water cube. "Not too much or you will be nauseous, and it is hard enough to keep this area clean."

She looked around the field hospital as she sucked on the gelatinous cube. Every available bed was full. She recognized a few faces, including those who were meant to be safe in shelters. How had so many gotten injured? That last round of bombing must have been serious. Groans and whimpers filled the space, adding in the beeps and hums of machines, the medics barking orders, which all added up to a general cacophony of noise that hurt her head.

"My heart," she started, desperate to summarize her medical history in as few words as possible, but only tapped her chest.

"I located your medical records and examined your existing conditions. The proper medication has been administered. You have suffered no ill effects," the doctor said.

"Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"As you can see, we are at capacity. Other than monitoring your concussion, I have no reason to keep you." He paused, then glanced over her shoulder. Van didn't want to twist to see what had snagged his attention. "You don't want to discharge me by myself," she realized.

"Unless you have someone who can take you to your domicile and provide supervision-"

"My mechanic," she said, surprising herself. She should have asked for Esme, or Trey and Mateo. Hell, even Gabe, not some muscle-headed alien she just met.

"Oh, yes, Jaxar." Kalen frowned. "He brought you in and has not left your side, despite orders to the contrary."

The idea of him standing guard over her while she was unconscious pleased Van and she didn't know why. Okay, she had a suspicion, because it was nice to be cared for, to feel as if she mattered.

Even though Jaxar would reject her once he learned the truth about her. "Where is he?" she asked.

"I told you she would want to see me!" Jaxar pushed past Kalen to get to her bedside. He reached for her hand but pulled back, as if afraid to hurt her.

Oh, that adorable man. She was the one who was going to hurt him. It was selfish to lead him on, but hadn't she earned the right to be a little selfish? She had a hell of a day and just wanted someone to hold her hand and make her feel safe. The Mahdfel excelled at the overprotective coddling and it should have been Havik, but she'd take a stranger.

Van reached for Jaxar's hand, appreciating the rough feel of his skin against hers, and said in a rough voice, "Thank you for saving me."

"I will discharge you if you agree to my stipulations," Kalen said to both Van and Jaxar. "One, rest. No activities in bed other than sleep." He tossed a pointed look to Jaxar, who nodded. The doctor ran through a brief list of how to care for her head wound and bruised ribs, what medicine he gave her and ended with, "Return to Medical if the headache does not abate."