Light of Kaska

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Light of Kaska Page 25

by Michelle O'Leary


  "Sunshine," he said with a low, rough intimacy that nearly shattered her into pieces. "Be with your family. Get some rest. I’ll see you later." He lowered his head, lips brushing hers and lingering for a long, sweet moment. Then he moved away, silent and swift. A moment later, he’d blended into the night and disappeared.

  Keza took a shaky breath, blinking fiercely to force back the threat of tears. How many times was she going to have to watch him walk away from her? How many goodbyes could she survive? She ground her teeth and her complicated sorrow yielded to a flash of hot anger. Why did she have to endure it at all? She understood why he would need his freedom, but damn it, this back and forth thing was driving her crazy. Either go for good this time, Chase Stryker, she thought to the darkness, or next time I’m chaining you to my damn bed.

  Spinning on her heel, she stalked back to the courtyard, seeking her mother grimly. Myelle looked up from the toddler she was bouncing on her knee, lips thinning and eyes tightening at the look on Keza’s face. "No?" her mother asked softly.

  "Yes, actually," Keza answered, dredging up a smile. Chase could go to hell for the moment—she was still going to celebrate the miracle of creation and the tiny life growing inside her.

  Myelle’s face softened, a light glowing strong and sure in her eyes. A smile curled her mouth, but her words were cautionary for them both. "That’s wonderful news, baby, but remember it’s not a done deal yet."

  "I know," she acknowledged the caution then let her own joy bloom inside and brighten her smile. She sat down next to her mother and sank into her embrace, feeling love tighten around her with a new strength and dimension.

  "Meesa!" the toddler protested, smacking them both with her little hands.

  Keza grinned at her niece, marveling anew at the perfect, soft beauty of Nade’s face and Harle’s eyes staring up at her. As one, she and Myelle curled their arms around the little girl and drew her into the hug. With a contented burble, Shaneese snuggled into them, and Keza felt tears sting again. But these tears felt good. Her life was righting itself like a lost ship after a storm, sails billowing and finding the way home. Thank you, Goddess.

  "Damn, you women are so sappy," she heard her brother declare with heavy disgust.

  Without looking, she sent Rogue a rude gesture then grinned at his low laughter. But her brother had done his job and busted the mood, so she released her mother, sharing a tolerant look with Myelle. Her niece remained snuggled against her grandmother, silver-blue eyes glazing with a toddler’s contented weariness as she stared up at Keza. Shaneese mumbled something incomprehensible in her little girl’s voice and Keza nodded in solemn agreement. "That’s right, sweetie. Uncle Rogue is a poopie-head."

  "Cute," her brother drawled, flicking a finger at her ear as he sat on the edge of the table. She stuck her tongue out at him then narrowed her gaze at the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Rogue was most dangerous when he had that look. "So," he began in a sly tone, "when are you stepping down, Mom?"

  Keza felt the blood drain from her face. She had totally forgotten that part of the process. Or maybe she’d deliberately blocked it. Now that she’d proven herself Goddess-touched by conceiving, she was fully confirmed as First Materi and could take her place as Mater of the Marish House, if Myelle chose to step down. Her stomach heaved in terrified protest.

  Rogue, the beast, roared with laughter at the look on her face.

  Myelle rolled her eyes and took it a bit more seriously. "Relax, dear. I’m not ready to retire just yet. Besides, as I just said, successful fertilization doesn’t mean you’ll carry to term."

  "As the Goddess wills," Keza and Rogue said together in automatic response.

  Myelle tilted her head, looking from her son to her daughter with a wry smile. "Just so. Still, I think we can celebrate a little. Is the father going to join us?" She aimed the last sentence at Keza with a layer of acid attached.

  A shaft of pain sliced Keza right through, followed by a healthy dose of anger. She pressed her lips together for a moment before answering, "Don’t count on it."

  Rogue sighed heavily. "Not again." He shifted as though preparing to get down from the table, but Keza restrained him with a hand on his arm.

  "Leave him be. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I want to give the Goddess the thanks she deserves."

  He grimaced, a dark look shooting through his mahogany eyes before his usual lopsided humor crept back in. "You’ll deal with him later? You can barely walk, sister. I thought I was the only one in the family who could go all night—" He dodged her swing with a chortle of laughter.

  "Shut up about that, brother. I’ll sick Harle on you if you don’t behave."

  Rogue made a rude noise. "As if you could pry him away from his new buddy."

  Keza drew back and stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you pouting?"

  Myelle snickered, much to her son’s disgust. He gave them both a sour look. "I just think it’s weird that our head of security is following our resident con around like a pup. Or is he under orders?" Rogue lifted his eyebrows at his mother.

  Myelle shook her head. "I just told Harle to watch for any misbehavior, not to shadow his every step. Harle seems to have found something in the man that resonates with him. Maybe their history is more of a common ground than we thought."

  Rogue frowned. "That guy’s gonna be a bad influence on our boy."

  "Actually…" Myelle’s expression turned thoughtful. "I believe Harle is having a good influence on Chase."

  Keza stared at her mother, aware of her brother doing the same. "When did this happen?" she asked in a tight voice, meaning her mother’s surprising change of heart toward her controversial candidate.

  Myelle studied her with fathomless amber eyes. "I’ve seen changes in him," she said in an evasive tone.

  Keza narrowed her eyes, suddenly remembering a comment her mother had made at the temple. "Mom? What do the selkies have to do with you bringing Chase to the Goddess’s garden?"

  Myelle’s gaze shifted away and Keza knew she was onto something.

  "What happened?"

  Myelle’s mouth quirked oddly, as if she was fighting both a smile and a grimace. "I’m going to let you find that out for yourself."

  "Mom," Keza growled, but Myelle shook her head and shifted the sleeping toddler in her arms.

  "Let’s get Neesie in bed and then see what we can do about that celebration."

  As if on cue, Nade appeared with a tender smile and a mother’s light in her eyes, leaning down to lift her baby from Myelle’s arms. "Poor tired princess," she cooed when the child grumbled at the jostling. "Did grandma wear you out again?"

  "Are you kidding? The only way to slow that girl down is knock her on the head or give her a strong drink."

  Rogue jerked and cast them a guilty look. "I thought it was juice, I swear."

  Nade laughed, eyes sparkling and face glowing with affectionate humor. Keza grinned, watching her sister with wistful amazement. Nade was younger than she was but seemed to have found a mature center upon which to build the architecture of her happiness. Having seen her sister with Harle, she knew that the big man had a great deal to do with her sister’s current contentment. Nade had always been uncommonly serene, but now that she had a lifemate and a child, she seemed to float in the Goddess’ blessing like a mote of light.

  Keza touched wondering fingers to her belly. Would it change so much for her? She thought of Chase fading into the darkness and flinched. Okay, maybe not. Chase Stryker was a very different man from Harle. He was also a man who was in very big trouble if he didn’t make up his friggin’ mind.

  Chapter 15

  "Damn, are you in trouble," Harle announced behind him.

  Stryker snarled silently into the night but didn’t turn from the view, leaning harder on the sill of the tower window.

  "Nade’s talking about cuttin’ you off from the kitchen again and Liss mentioned castration. She’s a bloody-minded little thing. The Dragon didn’t say no neither.
Guard your goods, son."

  Stryker snorted, watching the small figures below with a sensation like vertigo sickening his stomach. He deserved their censure, their violence. He couldn’t believe he’d done it again, after she’d opened her arms to him, opened her body to his. He’d hurt her again. "Might be better if they did," he muttered.

  The silence behind him was thunderous. Then Harle made a disbelieving sound in his throat. "Shit, man, you can’t be serious. They ain’t gonna snip you just ‘cause you missed a party."

  Stryker shot a frown over his shoulder. "Don’t be stupid. They’re pissed for good reason."

  "Good reason? Look, bein’ anti-social ain’t a crime—"

  "I hurt her again." Stryker pressed his forehead to the glass and gazed down at the lights and music below. "If I was them, I’d chuck my ass in the drink."

  "Hurt her? How?"

  Stryker turned slowly, studying Harle’s frowning face. "She didn’t tell you?"

  "No, but you’re gonna," Harle responded grimly, big body settling into a predatory stance, eyes hardening into silver-blue steel.

  "You saw how she was walking. I thought it was just sore muscles, but she’s all bruised." Stryker slapped a hand against the wall and turned back to the window. "Kessu, the woman is so fucking fragile. I can’t touch her without doing damage."

  Harle was quiet for a moment. "So…you didn’t hit her or get rough with her. You’re just talkin’ about sex?"

  Stryker sent him a speaking look over his shoulder. Harle burst into laughter then backed up in a hurry when Stryker spun and stalked toward him.

  "Whoa! Hang up. I just figured out you’re in worse trouble than I thought. So you’re not freakin’ about being a papa?"

  That stopped Stryker. Of course he was freaking. Life was growing inside his Keza, a life he’d helped to create. Terrified euphoria threatened to swamp him. He was a lot better at destruction, so good at it in fact, that he could wound the only person he’d ever sworn not to hurt. The kind of miraculous creation that was happening in Keza was almost impossible to believe. His part in it seemed horribly audacious, as if his involvement guaranteed some kind of divine retribution. She would be right to blame him if anything happened to it or her. Freaking was a mild term for what was going on inside him.

  "Go away, Harle." He turned to the window again, to his self-imposed exile. He should be heading for the nearest exit, for Keza’s sake. For the sake of the whole damned family. But he cursed his own weakness, the need that kept him riveted to this place and to her. A need he couldn’t understand any more than he could understand why Keza hadn’t kicked his ass out into the night.

  "Hmm." The big man didn’t go away, moving to lean on the wall next to the window with folded arms, studying Stryker. "Know what you need? Pie."

  Stryker looked at the sandy-haired idiot with disgust. "Food’s your answer?"

  "Yup." Harle nodded without apology.

  "Go away, Harle," he said with hard emphasis.

  "Don’t be such a pain in the ass. Come on, I’ll share my stash."

  Stryker watched the other man saunter away. He didn’t want pie. But the big man who’d called him friend was a decent distraction. With a sigh and a last glance down at the warm lights, he followed Harle.

  Thankfully, the big guy didn’t take him back to the courtyard. Stryker wasn’t sure he could see Keza without touching her, without pulling her into the dark with him. Instead, they went to Harle’s quarters. When they stepped across the threshold, Stryker heard Nade say, "Did you find him?" When Harle moved out of the way and she caught sight of Stryker, she smiled. "Oh, good, you brought him."

  Stryker froze, feeling the door close behind him like a trap snapping shut. He watched warily as Harle kissed his mate and murmured in her ear, before sending him a level look.

  "I’m gonna go watch my daughter sleep. You two stay outta trouble."

  "Prick," Stryker aimed at his traitorous back, but Harle just waved a lazy hand, his voice and form fading down a dark hall while he said, "Yeah, yeah…"

  Nade watched him with a faint smile. "Will you come in?" She paused, studying his tense form before lifting an eyebrow in mild challenge. "Or will you run?" He gave her a look that had made more than one man recoil, but she just tipped her head to one side with a blink of her eyes. "What was the bait?" she asked him, turning her willowy form and leading him to the kitchen.

  "Pie."

  "Then pie it is."

  "Rather have a drink."

  "How about both?"

  He said nothing. She didn’t appear to need his input. With graceful efficiency, she glided around the kitchen, gathering a piece of creamy pie and a tall glass filled with an ominously pink liquid. He pointed an accusing finger at the glass with raised eyebrows, but all she did was give him a bland smile and sit next to him at the table.

  Stryker stared at her offerings then stared at her, trying to figure out if this was part of the trap. She smirked and said nothing. With a shrug, he picked up the glass and took a swig. He paused a moment after swallowing, but the tangy-sweet burn over his tongue and down his throat was pleasant and he didn’t keel over. Picking up the fork, he sliced off a bite of pie and tried it.

  "White chocolate cream," she said when he made an appreciative noise.

  "S’good," he muttered around another bite, eyeing her while he chewed. "So why’d you sick your mate on me?"

  She smiled that bland smile again, her eyes turning opaque and hiding any emotion. He tried not to tense.

  "Harle likes you. He seems to think that you’re a decent man, but it’s disturbing to me how often and how easily you hurt my sister."

  The pie got stuck in his throat. Fist clenching around the fork, he coughed and swallowed hard, before picking up the glass with deliberate care and draining it dry. She watched him with knowing eyes and serene features.

  "I’m staying away from her," he said hoarsely, wishing he could believe it.

  "Why?"

  "So I won’t hurt her anymore."

  "Foolish," Nade murmured with a shake of her head. "That’s what’s hurting her. But if you mean to stay away, why haven’t you left?"

  Stryker frowned. "What do you mean, that’s what’s hurting her?"

  She sighed, giving him a level stare. "Why are you still here, Chase?"

  He shifted in his seat, looking down at the pie, hand tightening around the empty glass. How could staying away hurt her? She had what she wanted from him, what her family had wanted from her candidate. Besides, he couldn’t put bruises on her if he couldn’t touch her.

  "Chase?"

  "I don’t know," he muttered, not looking at her. He couldn’t voice the need. He didn’t have the words for it.

  "You don’t know why you’re still here? Why you can’t leave?" she asked gently.

  His head jerked up. Her tone said she knew even if he didn’t. So did her expression, her features filled with some mysterious knowledge. Myelle had looked at him that way once.

  "Your mother thinks it’s because Keza has a way with wild animals," he said, not bothering to hide his bitterness.

  The sudden smile on her face surprised him with its lovely and mischievous warmth. "Ah, well, my mother doesn’t like you much. Although she seems to be coming around. But I read your file with a little more objectivity."

 

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