Light of Kaska

by Michelle O'Leary

“Guess you’re shit outta luck,” Stryker said in smug satiation, chasing the delicious meal with what turned out to be a very tasty wine.

  Nade reappeared with a dimpled smile. “More?” she asked in a mild tone.

  Stryker dredged up a vague memory of manners and said, “No thanks. That was enough for now.”

  Her eyebrows rose and her smile deepened. “For now?”

  “When’s dinner?” he asked and was rewarded by her sparkling laughter.

  “Keza didn’t tell me you were charming,” she said with a teasing twinkle in her amber eyes.

  Stryker nearly choked on his wine. “I’ve been called lots of things but never charming.”

  “Hmm.” Her smile faded a bit, eyes turning speculative while she studied him. “Well, I’ve always said Kaska brings out the best in people.”

  “Or the worst,” Harle muttered from Stryker’s other side, earning a censorious look from his mate.

  “Ignore him, Chase. He’s pouting because he didn’t get anything to eat.” She winked at him and moved away with the empty bowls.

  “I’m a man—I don’t pout,” Harle blustered after her but she didn’t glance back, laughing as she merged with the other cooks. The big man subsided on his stool with a disgruntled look. “So anyway, now that you’re all fed up, want a tour?”

  Know where the exits are. The thought flashed through Stryker’s mind, followed by a disconcerting reluctance to move. He was full of the kind of food that made ambrosia look like dog dung and the wine had eased his taut muscles. The heat of the kitchen was working on him, loosening tension and suggesting a nap. But mainly he was reluctant to leave because of the atmosphere. Everyone was so damned—happy. He’d been subtly drawn in by the warm welcome of the place, by the easy chatter of the cooks and comfortable chaos of sound and motion. Nade’s welcome had been more overt and potent, her open smile and soothing, gentle manner inviting him to let down his guard. She didn’t look much like her sister except for the color of her eyes and mat mark, but there was something about her that reminded him of Keza all the same. In her presence, in this warm place, he felt almost…content.

  Alarm shot him to his feet. “Tour,” he said briskly when Harle raised his thick eyebrows. “Sounds good.”

  In what was probably supposed to be Harle’s version of subtle irony, he showed Stryker the exits first. There were quite a few. Then he showed Stryker the rest of the compound. That was how Stryker came to think of it, even though Harle insisted on calling the sprawling conglomeration of buildings the “house.” The main building was clearly the House with a capital H, a several story mansion with fascinating stair-step levels and a breathtaking view of the ocean as it perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach. This main house was home for the Mater and her immediate relatives. The courtyard lay in front of that structure like an offering, surrounded by low buildings that had various functions, the most prominent being the main kitchen. From these buildings branched other structures that housed the extended members of the Marish family, as well as foster members and guests.

  It was a haphazard maze that confused Stryker’s sense of direction and proportion until he saw it from above out of a tower window on the top floor of the main house. It was still haphazard, but with that perspective he could see why. Buildings had been added on as the family grew in size. Strangely, the effect wasn’t so much messy as it was artful, with a joyous kind of architectural abandon. Maybe it was the materials used, evoking light, warmth, and open spaces.

  Stryker mused on this for longer than he realized, studying the structures and the patterns that emerged with absorbed concentration, until Harle passed a hand in front of his face to get his attention. Stryker was almost as disturbed by his reaction to the architecture as he had been to the warm welcome of the kitchen. He did not need to get drawn into this place, into these people. He didn’t fit in here any more than a wolf fit in with sheep.

  Harle continued the tour until it was nearly dark, though they hadn’t been through the entire compound. Stryker had a good working knowledge of the place by then, though. Enough to know how to leave. He would have to wait until he wouldn’t be seen, which meant nighttime when the place had less bustle. A large number of people lived in the Marish compound, but he didn’t realize how many until Harle led him back to the courtyard.

  “Ah, dinnertime,” Harle said with relish, grinning at the filled courtyard.

  Stryker paused to stare and do a quick calculation. It looked like over two hundred people were in attendance and that was just the people he could see. Family? It was more like a small city-state. “Damn,” he muttered.

  Harle caught his look and snickered. “And this is just the tip of the iceberg,” he boasted with a sweep of his hand. “We got Marish clan all over Kaska.”

  Keza was going to rule this? Stryker couldn’t picture it. Harle moved forward but Stryker balked at going into the middle of the crowd. His survival instincts told him it was a bad idea. He waved Harle away when the big man turned back to him. “You go ahead. I’m not hungry yet.”

  Harle’s face lost expression and he studied Stryker with cool eyes for a long moment before tipping his sandy head in acknowledgement. The former badge figured he was using this gathering as an opportunity to bolt. Harle moved away without another word.

  Stryker settled against a pale column and thought about it. With most of the members of the family gathered here, the hallways would be decently empty, the exits clear. With Harle’s dubious blessing, he shouldn’t be stopped by anyone even if he was seen. The only thing he didn’t have was a working knowledge of Kaska to smooth out any mistakes he might make on his way off this rock, but he didn’t think that was too large an obstacle. This was a mid-tech planet, so finding info should be simple. He was a survivor, the only profession he hadn’t given up—if he couldn’t get off this rock than no one could.

  Everyone began to settle onto benches along the tables and Stryker had made up his mind to go when he saw her. His Keza. And that need reasserted itself, locking him into place.

  His eyes ran over her greedily, absorbing the changes in her appearance with more single-minded intensity than he’d shown the brecaria. Her hair was down, dark waves framing her face and brushing her shoulders, making his fingers itch to touch and stroke. She was wearing a simple, white, sleeveless dress, and by the lantern light her sun-kissed skin took on a satiny quality that made his breath hitch in his throat and his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth.

  He wanted, wanted…needed…

  Then she smiled and the ground fell away from under his feet.

  He’d never seen her smile like that before. He hadn’t known what he was missing. He had touched her everywhere, had seen her face transformed by passion, by aching need and sweet gratification, but he’d never seen anything as beautiful as the smile she gave so easily to the child who raced up to her. Her eyes glowed bright amber, her face became radiant, and he suddenly realized why she smelled like sunshine. It wasn’t because some distant, hot star kissed her skin—she carried the damn stuff inside. When she smiled, she let it peek out like a glimpse of glory.

  “Hungry?” asked an amused masculine voice.

  The pointed humor in that tone crawled a warning down Stryker’s spine and he forced his gaze away from Keza. The young man next to him grinned with easy challenge, the Marish family resemblance unmistakable in the dark hair, crisp features, and mahogany hue of his eyes. “Rogue,” he stated.

  Stryker lifted his eyebrows. “Are you?” he asked flatly.

  The young man’s grin sharpened. “Every day of my life. But it takes one to know one, pal. You gonna take my sister somewhere private before you do all the things you were just thinking about?”

  Stryker ignored the question. “How many of you are there?”

  Rogue glanced down at himself and back up with a wicked curl of his mouth. “Depends on the woman I’m with. Or women.”

  “Siblings,” Stryker clarified mildly. “How
many?”

  “Oh, that,” Rogue murmured with a twinkle in his eye. “Five all together. Keza, Joy, Nade, me, and Liss, chronologically speaking. Joy’s on her Guidance cycle, though.”

  He studied the young man for a moment. “Funny, you’re the only one who looks like her.”

  Rogue shrugged. “Different fathers.”

  “Where are they?” Stryker asked with an unexpected bite to his tone. He wasn’t sure why it mattered.

  Keza’s brother lost some of the glint in his eyes, his smile fading. “One died. Accident. The other one visits when he’s got time. He’s almost as busy as I am.”

  Stryker knew he shouldn’t take the bait but he was curious. “Doing what?”

  “Repopulating Kaska,” Rogue said with a flashing grin. “Trying to, anyway. Since my father’s already proved that he can produce a Kaskan male, he’s in high demand. And I’m one of the few fertile males on this planet. So ditto on me.”

  Stryker blinked at him. “All you do is fuck?”

  “Hey, it’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” Rogue answered with a low laugh. “Don’t get me wrong—I figure I’ll take a lifemate someday, but until then, I love ‘em all. The Goddess made me for a reason. Can’t disappoint the old girl.”

  “Lifemate,” Stryker repeated, both fascinated and unnerved by the word.

  “Yeah, like Nade and Harle. She found him on her Guidance and came back early. Said she was done looking, ‘cause she’d found what she needed to be happy. Took him as lifemate and revoked her Materi status. Can’t say as I blame her—who wants to be responsible for all of them?” He jerked a thumb at the crowd with amused horror.

  “Keza ran away from it,” he found himself saying and wanted to bite through his tongue. That wasn’t his to tell.

  But Rogue only shrugged and glanced over the crowd to find his sister. His smile matured with thoughtful affection. “She came back, though, didn’t she?”

  Chapter 11

  Keza rolled over, kicked the covers off her legs, and wrestled the pillow into submission under her head. Her eyes felt full of sand, dry and scratchy as a desert, but the damned things didn’t want to stay closed. Her muscles twitched with exhaustion, weariness pressing on her like a large, ruthless hand, but her mind wouldn’t shut off long enough to let her body relax into sleep.

  Was he gone yet? She groaned and flopped onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling through gritty eyes. Why was she torturing herself like this? In the morning she would go down to breakfast and find her mother sitting with Kaskan security, organizing a search for Stryker. Then she could torture herself, worrying about how he would get through the security grid and the looming Collectors in their Kaskan orbit to flee this place. The man was going to be the death of her.

  With a sigh, she sat up and rubbed her painful eyes. They were swollen and scratchy from more than tiredness, but tears had done her even less good than lying awake. Pushing to her feet, she padded across her bedroom and out onto the veranda, taking a deep, invigorating breath of cool, salt-kissed air. The breeze blew her hair back from her forehead and snuck up her nightshirt slyly. She ignored it, resting her hands on the railing and staring down into the dark, listening to the crash of waves below. The moons weren’t up yet, so the night was a blind, midnight blanket broken only by scattered lights in the house below, distant lights in the nearby town, and the sparkle of stars overhead peeking through a scrim of clouds like hints of diamonds.

  She sighed again heavily. This was not the homecoming she’d dreamed of. Then she shook her head and revised that thought. Actually it had been exactly the homecoming she’d dreamed, down to the brecaria and sweet brussberry pie Nade had made for dinner. The warm, loud, chaotic welcome of her family and the softer but no less warm and playful welcome of her selkie friends had been just the balm she’d needed. But it hadn’t lasted, not with circumstances being what they were.

  “Chase Stryker, if you don’t get away clean, I swear I will strangle you myself,” she whispered to the night.

  She had no doubt that he was already on his way. She remembered that night was his comfort zone and wondered how he’d endured the bright sun of her homeworld. He hadn’t seemed particularly pleased the last time she’d spoken with him. The fury and accusation in his voice had torn at her conscience, while seeing him in only thin sleep slacks had shredded the rest of her. She’d meant to reason with him, to show him that living here was doable, that if he had to stay in a prison, Kaska was the nicest option available. But seeing him standing there, so damned beautiful and furious, she’d crumpled under guilt and pain. She’d told him to go. Even though it was more than likely going to be her downfall.

  Rubbing impatiently at tear-stung eyes, she moved out of the cool night air and headed for the hallway. She wasn’t sleeping. She might as well see if the library had anything on the legalities of bringing an escaped convict to her world as a candidate just so he could slip the law again. She was pretty sure it was frowned upon, but it would be instructive to learn the details of her demise.

  She padded down the hall and the stairs without turning on lights. It was amazing to her, after the years she’d been away, how comfortable she felt in this place again. It hadn’t changed much. Each flowing line and open space was etched in her memory and on her heart. The scents were the same, the sounds were the same, and the feel of the place seemed as solid and enduring as the planet itself. Home. She wanted to reach back through time and kick her younger self for leaving.

  Then again, Materi went on Guidance cycles for good reason. If she hadn’t left, she would never have learned how precious this place and these people were to her. She would never have learned all the things that Stryker had taught her about herself, that he was still teaching her.

  She felt tears prickle again and blinked fiercely, stepping into the library without bothering to turn on the lights. A pale glow caught her eye and she moved to the long panel of windows to watch as the thin curve of the lesser moon peeked over the restless ocean horizon. She touched a fingertip to the window, tracing the curve of that fragile moon with poignant regret. The lesser moon might rise first, but it was soon overtaken by its larger companion and hidden for most of the night, showing again only to say goodbye as it disappeared under the horizon. Elusive beauty.

  “Sunshine.”

  Sukeza jumped with a squeak, whirling to face the dark room, heart thundering madly in her chest. A deeper shadow in one of the overstuffed chairs shifted and she addressed it in a voice higher than usual. “Why aren’t you gone yet?” She was very aware that the rapid tattoo of her heart had a lot more to do with the man than with being startled in a dark room in the middle of the night.

  Stryker made a soft noise that sounded like a snort. “What are you wearing?” he asked, his voice just as low and husky as it had been a moment ago.

  She glanced down swiftly and felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment, sidling away from the window that backlit her through the thin fabric. “Look, the moons are starting to rise. It’d be easier in full dark for you to leave without being seen.”

  “You in that big a hurry to see me gone?” he asked in a wry tone. She couldn’t see his face, just the outline of his form in the gloom.

  She worried at the fabric of her shirt until she realized the movement pulled it further up her thighs. “I’m—I just don’t want you to get caught. I couldn’t stand it if they put the band back on you.” He stayed silent, so she cleared her throat and asked, “So why are you still here?”

  He made a sound that reminded her of when he’d been in chains and had made her feel like a foolish farm girl. “Think I should run off without a plan, without even a working knowledge of this damn planet? Wouldn’t be too smart, would it?”

  The words were scathing but his voice was not, still low and husky, working on her like a caress. She swallowed hard and turned, fixing her eyes on the rising moon.

  “Why did you bring me here, Keza?”

  She wrapped h
er arms around herself, holding in the sudden urge to curl up on his lap. “I didn’t know how else to save you,” she whispered, trying to keep the despair out of her voice.

  “Save me,” he repeated, but his voice was so soft that she couldn’t read the tone. “Rescuing another wild animal?”

  She felt tears sting again and bit the inside of her cheek to make them stop. When she spoke, her voice was tight and harsh, but she couldn’t help that. “It’s not what you would’ve chosen. I know that. But it’s not the worst place to end up either. You don’t have to stay in this house. Kaska is a big place. As long as they know where you are you can travel around, make your own choice where you want to go, who you want to be with. Women will be stacked ten deep just to be near you.” She paused and swallowed hard.

  “Keza—”

  She suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. “Or you can go. Whatever. I need to get some sleep. I’ve got a hearing in the morning.” She spun for the door, but his abrupt movement made her lurch to a stop.