But this time apart was necessary. It was not merely a matter of performing what Randall had deemed necessary maintenance; Jax needed answers, and Randall was one of the few people who could potentially provide them.
Randall grinned and laid the pieces of the weapon casing on his lap, looking at Melaina. “Weapons are tools, and they need to be cared for so they continue to function properly. Just like you, or me, or Ikaros. There are magnetic rails inside these guns that launch the harpoons, and they won’t do their jobs if they’re not clean. Honestly, it’s amazing these things have been working for so long with their insides all gunked up.”
He ran a finger along a deep groove on the inside of the weapon. When he lifted his hand, a clump of dark, glistening sludge was stuck on his fingertip. Randall reached aside, moving his finger toward Melaina.
“Ew, Randall,” the youngling shrieked playfully, scrambling away. “Don’t touch me with that yucky stuff!”
Randall chuckled and withdrew the offending finger, wiping it on a rag. “We need to clean out all this gunk from these harpoon guns. You’re still going to help, right?”
Melaina’s tentacles curled, and her gray skin lightened, taking on the merest hint of yellowish green. Her tight little frown and concerned eyes brought a smile to Jax’s face that only widened when she nodded and said, “Yes, I will help.”
Jax looked at his harpoon gun again, depressed the switch over the grip, and — after a brief struggle — opened the casing. Its inside was full of buildup just like that of the weapon Randall and Melaina were cleaning.
“Dracchus mentioned humans being unclear in their meanings,” Jax said as he snatched up one of the rags with the tip of a tentacle.
“Dracchus mentions a hell of a lot of stuff for someone who doesn’t talk much,” Randall replied.
“Because I do not waste breath on unimportant words,” Dracchus rumbled. He had his harpoon gun tilted sideways, his big thumb on the release switch.
“Sure you don’t, buddy.”
“Macy has mentioned our…anniversary a couple times.” Jax slid the rag along the casing’s interior groove, wiping away a streak of sludge.
Randall chuckled, flicking his gaze toward Jax. “Uh-oh. Are you one of those guys?”
“Speak plainly,” Dracchus said. His harpoon gun opened with a surprisingly delicate click.
“It’s no wonder Jax sounds so damned clueless when you guys need everything spelled out.” Shaking his head, Randall set his rag aside. “An anniversary is the day of the year upon which something happened in the past.”
“So it is a thing of remembrance,” Jax offered.
“Clearly not in your case,” Randall replied. He smirked, but the expression fell when he noticed Dracchus staring at him with a heavy gaze. “All right, all right. Usually, we remember anniversaries because they mark something special or significant. Like the start of a relationship.”
“I understand that much.” Jax reversed the direction of his rag. “But tell me what it means for humans. She has only spoken of it twice in passing, yet I know by the tone of her voice when she said it that it is important to her.”
Both times Macy had mentioned their upcoming anniversary, there’d been a sparkle in her eyes, a brightness in her soft smile. When she looked at him like that, Jax’s chest felt so tight, so full, so warm.
“I’m sure it is,” Randall said. “Anniversaries are important for a lot of people.”
“I would like to treat it that way, also. If it is important to my mate, so must it be to me.” Jax laid the clean half of the casing on the floor beside him and leaned toward Randall. “What does it mean to humans? What are your traditions in this matter?”
Randall smiled wistfully. “Well, it’s all about—”
Ikaros snatched the dirty cloth from beneath Randall’s hand, licking at the dark substance staining it.
“Come on, really?” Randall took hold of the rag’s corner and, after a brief struggle, tugged the cloth out of Ikaros’s mouth. “That’s disgusting. Don’t you go licking me now.”
The prixxir tilted his head, whiskers sweeping forward, and released a questioning chirrup before running his tongue along the back of Randall’s hand.
Melaina laughed, and Randall muttered under his breath, though his smile said that his irritation was largely feigned.
“You’d better not be slacking while you’re laughing at me.” Randall gently nudged Melaina’s shoulder with his elbow.
She lifted the weapon casing she’d been cleaning, holding it on upturned palms. “I’m not, see?”
Randall’s brows fell, and he pressed his lips into a tight line as he leaned down to inspect the youngling’s work. Ikaros mimicked him, moving his snout closer to the weapon casing. The prixxir’s eyes darted back and forth between the weapon and the human’s face, and his legs shifted restlessly.
Randall released a skeptical hum. “I don’t know. Still seeing some gunk in there.”
The prixxir dipped his head and ran his tongue along the groove in the casing, lapping at it as though it were a treat.
“Come on,” Randall groaned.
Giggling, Melaina withdrew the casing from Ikaros’s reach. “Ikaros, no.”
Jax couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Randall was not Melaina’s sire, and he hadn’t been in the Facility nearly as long as Macy, but he had fallen easily into what Macy referred to as a fatherly role with the youngling. There was much Jax had learned from his relatively short time observing Randall — much that could inform Jax’s relationship with his own little one.
Randall was more than a capable hunter — he was a teacher, just like Ector and the other senior males had been teachers for Jax, Dracchus, and so many others long ago. But there was a playfulness in the way Randall interacted with Melaina, even while teaching her, that was unlike anything Jax had witnessed. And it often seemed to keep Melaina highly engaged.
It was one of many differences between humans and kraken, between their cultures. But Jax saw it for the good it could accomplish. If only all kraken could see it that way, too.
Randall distracted the prixxir — who was currently crawling across his lap to get at Melaina — by rubbing the creature’s belly. “Anyway, we were talking anniversaries, right? We treat an anniversary like…a celebration. A celebration of the time you’ve spent with that special person.”
Dracchus’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
Lifting his free hand, Randall ran his fingers through his short hair and scratched the back of his head. “Don’t you guys have someone more qualified to get all these answers from?”
“We are asking you,” Jax replied. “We accept that your knowledge may be limited.”
“Oof. Should I take that as an insult?”
Dracchus grunted. “Why would you be insulted, human? We are the ones who do not know.”
“Okay, okay.” Randall took a deep breath, fixing his gaze on the floor, while he continued absently rubbing Ikaros’s belly. “Keep in mind that it’s something that can mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people, all right? But I guess, on some primal level, it’s about celebrating what we’ve had because we never know what’s to come.”
Randall lowered his hand from his head, settling it over his abdomen — over the scar beneath his shirt. “We never know when it can all go away. So, we find things to take joy in. A lot of those things are milestones, like birthdays or anniversaries. We make good memories, as many as we can”—he glanced at Melaina and smiled—“because those can’t be taken away from us, and we celebrate them.”
“There is wisdom in that notion that our people might benefit from,” Jax said. For a few moments, he held Dracchus’s gaze.
The larger kraken nodded. “There is.”
Jax returned his attention to Randall. “But how do humans celebrate anniversaries?”
Randall shrugged. “Exchanging gifts? It’s usually a personal thing, and I never really had a relationship that would warrant it before R
hea.”
Jax’s mind went to Arkon immediately. Arkon often gave Aymee little gifts, usually pieces of art or interesting trinkets. Did Macy expect the same sort of gifts from Jax? Jax wasn’t even sure where to begin when it came to creating art, and he’d never match even a sliver of the talent Arkon and Aymee displayed in such endeavors. And, as much as Macy enjoyed the beauty of the sea, it seemed as though baubles from the ocean floor would be a poor gift for someone so kind, caring, and selfless.
My Macy deserves it all — the whole world and everything in it.
Shifting his tentacles into more comfortable positions, Jax tilted his head. “What gifts are appropriate?”
“All kinds of stuff, probably.”
Jax released a heavy breath through his nostrils. “That is not helpful, Randall. I want to respect human customs in this matter, to make Macy happy.”
“I get it.” Randall raised both hands, palms up, and shrugged. “I just don’t know. It’s not exactly like you can take a stroll outside and pick her a bunch of flowers.”
“This is simple,” Dracchus said. “You are a hunter, Wanderer. Bring her food. Females admire males who can provide.”
“Well, yeah,” Randall said, brow furrowing as he looked at Dracchus, “but when I said gift, I meant something a little more out of the ordinary.”
“So bring her the biggest creature you can hunt.”
Randall laughed, shaking his head. “Again, Dracchus, I think you’re missing the point. If it’s food, it needs to be special food. Like…her favorite food.”
“Food is food,” Dracchus grumbled.
“It’s not that simple. It’s not about the food or providing for her in this case, it’s about…” Randall’s eyes turned toward the ceiling, and he waved his hand in small circles. “Well, it’s about…”
“It’s just about making her feel really loved,” Melaina said without looking up from her work.
A grin stretched across Randall’s lips, and he snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s exactly it. How’d you get so smart so young?”
Melaina shrugged. “I just spend a lot of time with Mother.”
“So she taught you that?”
“No. But I see it. She is strong and independent, but she really, really likes it when you do things that make her feel like you love her. Like when you read to us, or massage her shoulders, or just hug her for a really long time.”
Randall’s grin widened, and a light gleamed in his eyes. Jax knew that light well; he imagined it was in his own eyes whenever he was near Macy, whenever he looked at her, whenever he so much as thought about her — which was essentially all the time.
“So, yeah.” Randall swung his gaze back to Jax. “What the kid said. I think there’s some old human saying. It’s the thought that matters, not the gift. Something like that.”
“So it is better to think about your mate than to gift her something?” Dracchus asked. “That seems like an excuse for laziness.”
With an exaggerated groan, Randall shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all, Dracchus.”
“Perhaps the youngling should do the talking, then. She makes more sense than you.”
Jax laughed, as did Melaina and — after a few moments of sulking — Randall.
“At least he is far better at hunting than he is at explaining,” Jax said.
“We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Can’t be good at everything,” Randall replied.
The merest hint of a smile, so subtle it may only have been a trick of the light, lifted the corner of Dracchus’s mouth. “I do not have weaknesses.” As though to demonstrate, he flexed the powerful muscles of his chest, provoking another giggle from Melaina.
“Then I must not have weaknesses either,” ventured Jax, “as I’ve bested you on more than a few occasions.”
Randall scoffed. “You’ve both got weaknesses.”
Dracchus frowned. “Such as?”
“Well, I would guess that you’re not very good at…uh…at wearing shoes.” The human shifted his foot to display his boot.
“Unnecessary,” Dracchus grunted. “And could it not be considered a weakness that humans need to wear them to begin with?”
Randall offered a grunt of his own and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not a weakness.”
Ikaros nuzzled the human’s leg, chirruping softly.
Melaina patted Randall’s arm. “You aren’t weak.”
He smiled. “Thanks, kid. But I did think of a real weakness these guys share.”
Smirking, Jax glanced at Dracchus. The big kraken was staring at Randall with brows raised expectantly.
Randall thrust a finger toward Dracchus. “Metaphors!”
Dracchus’s expression tightened. “What?”
“Metaphors,” Randall repeated. “You suck at figures of speech.”
“Are you talking about those symbols? The ones on the computers? They are only images. A suction cup cannot latch onto them.”
“Ha!” Randall turned his finger upward. “See? You’re only illustrating my point. Admit it, you do have weaknesses.”
“You humans are strange.”
“They are strange in the best of ways,” Jax said, his mind shifting back to Macy. He did not consider her strange — everything she said and did was endearing, her every quirk and difference only made him love her more and more.
Jax’s smile did not fade as he resumed cleaning the weapon. The humans — particularly Randall — had introduced the kraken to an entirely new way of interacting with one another. These good-natured jests had somehow only brought everyone closer together. Before, they might well have caused hostilities to flare between rival males.
And all this is possible because of my brave mate. Because of my Macy.
Whatever future lay ahead, it could become one of great prosperity, peace, and joy thanks to human influence. Jax had never imagined he would discover a human during his long wanderings, and he would never have believed that so powerful a relationship could be formed between a human and a kraken.
So much of that was because of Macy’s courage. So much of it was because of what she’d been willing to risk.
Though some of Randall’s explanations had been difficult to unravel, Jax understood the basis. He tried every day to shower his mate with love and appreciation, and he never made a secret of his insatiable desire for her. But for this anniversary — to mark the year they’d spent together as mates — he needed to go well beyond those everyday signs of adoration. He needed to give her something unforgettable. He needed to give her a new memory that would shine as brightly as her happiest.
His eyes rounded.
Perhaps the key to that was in the memories they’d already made.
Chapter 2
Arms crossed over her chest, Macy stared past her faint reflection in the window, gaze settled on the dark waters beyond the Facility’s exterior lights. The overhead lights in this tunnel, which connected the Cabins to the main building, were dimmed for the night cycle, leaving only soft, meek illumination along the walkway. Everything was quiet save for the barely perceptible hum of the unseen machinery that kept this place operational.
Sarina was still in Macy’s bed, curled up in a deep sleep.
It should have been a peaceful night…
It would have been, if not for the turmoil inside Macy.
A fish swam by the glass, its shimmering scales briefly catching Macy’s eye. Bits of underwater vegetation — strands of seagrass and seaweed — swayed in the gentle current outside, and occasional bubbles drifted past the window. In that exterior glow, she could make out one of the flooded buildings where many of the kraken kept their dens, just far enough away to appear indistinct and hazy.
But what she didn’t see was Jax.
Where is he?
For the past several days he’d been…off. Quiet, secretive, and absent. His absence hurt the most. He’d been gone for longer and longer each day, and tonight…he hadn’t come ho
me in time to say goodnight to Sarina.
He’d rarely left her side since they’d met, usually doing so only when he’d been called to a hunt or had been forced to deal with urgent situations. He’d been especially hesitant to leave her alone since the confrontation with the razorback that had nearly cost Macy her life. The unrest amongst the kraken had not eased his worry. Every night, when they weren’t making love, they’d lie together, his tentacles and arms wrapped around her as though he were daring the world to try to take her from him.
She hugged herself a little tighter.
Where is he?
A tangle of emotions was raging within her — worry, anxiousness, love, and, worst of all, fear.
She always worried for Jax when he went out to hunt. She’d seen firsthand some of the sea’s many dangers, and she knew that even her strong, capable kraken was not invincible, but this was a different sort of fear.
This was the kind of fear that crept in slowly, that slithered around your heart and lungs and squeezed a little tighter each moment, starting so gently it went unnoticed at first. It was the kind of fear that didn’t really make itself known until its grip was so strong you couldn’t breathe. It made your thoughts race, filled you with a sense of foreboding and wrongness that could keep you up on otherwise peaceful nights.
And Macy couldn’t help her guilt at having let that insidious fear take hold of her.
Her eyes burned, and her vision blurred with tears.
A hand settled on her shoulder. “Macy? You okay?”
Heart leaping, Macy started and spun toward Aymee with wide eyes. “Aymee! You scared the crap out of me.”
Aymee, with her wild, curly hair hanging around her shoulders, chuckled and curled her arm around the small blanket-wrapped bundle she was holding — her son, Jace, born only a little over a month ago. “Sorry. I thought you heard me coming. Least I’m not waddling around and gasping for breath anymore.”
Macy laughed softly. “That’s one thing I don’t miss.”
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 64