22

By the time Zarya and the guard made it to Darling’s room, the fight was over.

Darling stood over the bodies of two assassins while Hauk cursed in his effort to get Darling to show him the wound on his side.

Holding a wadded up shirt against the injury, Darling smacked at Hauk’s hand. “I’m trying to stop the bleeding, asshole.”

Unperturbed, Hauk acted more like a patient mother than a bodyguard. “I want to see how bad it is.”

“It’s fine, Hauk. Believe me, I’ve had a lot worse. It glanced off the rib and didn’t go deep.” Darling’s nonchalance left her speechless. But then, she’d seen him as Kere handle some rather nasty wounds without reacting to them either.

Fain shook his head at Darling and Hauk as they continued to argue over the shirt. “Just call for a medic, Dancer, damn. Leave the boy alone.”

“No,” Darling snapped. “No medics. I don’t trust them. I’m not about to let one of them treat me, especially given all the shit going on right now.”

Fain made an obscene gesture at him. “Not one of yours, dumbass. I wouldn’t trust them, either. Call the Sentella. Didn’t I see a medic come in with them?”

Hauk shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Darling nodded at Fain. “Kerste came in about four hours ago.”

“Isn’t he a gunner?” Hauk asked.

Darling rolled his eyes, which had thankfully stopped jerking—she didn’t want to think about what would have happened had they been doing that while he fought his attackers. “No. He’s medical. Don’t you remember? He’s the one who stitched your leg that time when you went after those bounty hunters who’d been preying on kids.”

“Oh yeah.” Hauk’s scowl deepened. “Then why did he come here?”

Darling gestured sarcastically to the shirt that was now saturated with blood. “Syn wanted someone close to me in case something misfired after the surgery.”

“Ah.” While Hauk pulled out his link to call Kerste, Darling gave her a small smile to let her know he really was all right.

Then he looked past her to his guard. “Captain Harren? Would you please contact the sentries and make sure that none of them were attacked by the assassins? I don’t want one of them lying under a bush, bleeding out because they haven’t been missed yet.”

Zarya wasn’t sure why it surprised her that he knew the guard’s name. But the expression on Harren’s face was comical. It was a mixture of disbelief, shock, and a big dollop of fear and trepidation.

“How do you know my name, Majesty?”

“I know everyone’s name,” Darling said matter-of-factly. “Especially the ones like you, who are decent and who take pride in doing their job well.” He glanced to Zarya, before he returned his attention to Harren. “I also know you have a thing for my sister. And if you want to talk to her or ask her out, you need to. Otherwise she’s going to think you’re a depraved stalker the way you watch her every time she comes home.”