Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  He finally looked down at her. The high-pitched exclamation in her voice was emphasized by a huge smile that wasn’t a smile at all. One corner of her mouth was twitching and the fading sunlight reflected against the unshed tears in her eyes. “I’ll be back,” he reached for her.

  Noelle took an instinctive step back, her heart closed to any new promises or silly hopes. “You should go,” she whispered through a swelling throat. “I’m sure your family misses you. They deserve to know you’re alive.”

  “Noelle,” he reached for her again.

  “Miss Noelle?!” Kyle called across the parking lot from the back entrance. “We’re about to start ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’. I know it’s your favorite.”

  “Be there in a minute!” Noelle sniffled in a deep breath, gathered the bags that Steve had dropped, then began backing away. “Thank you for everything, Steve… and… good luck, and…” She held on too tightly to the last remaining piece of her heart. “Merry Christmas.”

  Too stunned to move as her light disappeared into the building, he stood in silence, broken and not knowing the way forward. His phone beeped in his hand. A message from Anna. He ignored it, got in his truck and headed for the twenty-six highway.

  10: To The Earth, It Gave A Great Light

  By the time the bell rung on George Baily’s tree, giving the angel Clarence his wings, Noelle was hanging by the end of the last, delicate string holding her together. Kyle seemed to know something was up and was doing his best to help Father Nathan mind the kids. After the movie, they ushered them all to the dorms with the promise of a story, Kyle reading to the boys and Father Nathan to the girls. Noelle quietly found her way to the store room, shut the door behind her and slid to the floor in tears.

  She had resolved herself not to cry over Steve. She wanted to be happy that he had found a way back home. She wanted to not be angry at him, her stupid heart and the damn angel on the tree in the lobby for her idea of wish fulfillment. So far, Noelle hadn’t been able to do any of the above.

  Her wish had finally come true, six years later. It was her own fault, she finally admitted in a moment of self-loathing pity while she huddled against the storeroom door. She’d only specified that she wished to meet someone who understood her, not that she got to keep that person.

  What was that saying? she asked the dusty boxes of documents through the tear-blurred lenses of her glasses. If you love someone, sometimes you have to let them go?

  She thought maybe she had done the right thing by letting Steve go without telling him how she really felt. He shouldn’t be forced to decide between his family and a girl he met four days ago just because that girl’s heart had completely, undeniably fallen in love. Thinking that she had done the right thing didn’t make it hurt any less.

  Sometime later, a soft knock sounded. “May I come in?” Father Nathan asked.

  Noelle wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sucking back her remaining tears. Scooting out of the doorway, she replied. “Yes, Father.”

  Father Nathan slowly opened the door and stepped inside. “Oh, dear child. What finds you so sad on your birthday?”

  Noelle forced herself to stand. She tried to smile and reply, but nothing came out except a sob. Father Nathan opened his arms and she stumbled into them. “He went home,” she cried. “I’m happy he got to go home, but I’ll never see him again.”

  Father Nathan smoothed his hand over her back. “Who, child?”

  “Steve,” she hoarsely whispered. Saying the name caused more pain than she was prepared for. It tore a line through her chest and had her reaching for her inhaler.

  Father Nathan waited until Noelle caught her breath then wiped her cheeks and adjusted her glasses with a smile. “My sweet Noelle,” he sighed paternally. “I wish for you to one day have as much hope for yourself as you give to others.”

  She sniffled. “I don’t understand, Father.”

  “Mr. Mason is waiting for you in the lobby,” he stepped out of the doorway, beckoning her to step through it.

  “He’s… what?” Noelle’s hand fisted her inhaler. Before her mind could digest his words, her heart had her racing out the door and down the hallway. Coming to a halt under the mistletoe, she forced one gulped breath and then another. He was there, standing next to the little tree with the angel on top.

  “You came back,” she whispered, causing him to spin around to her.

  “Noelle,” he smiled, holding his arms open to her. “Of course I came back.” He embraced her and kissed her head as she trembled against his chest.

  “But your friends,” she argued against this impossible reality.

  “They’re staying, too,” he replied.

  “What?” she craned her neck back to look at him. “But, your families…”

  He adjusted her glasses with a grin, knowing he could never leave this adorable Earther whom had so quickly captured his heart. “We forwarded a message to let them know we’re alive, but that we’ve built lives here and are staying.”

  Her eyes widened. “Even Anna?”

  “It was her idea. Chances are high that her husband has moved on. She didn’t feel it would be right to inject herself back into his life, and she let each of us decide what we wanted to do. None of us wanted to leave. This is our home now.”

  “But…” she stopped, realizing she was out of reasons to deny the hope in her heart. “You’re really staying?”

  “For some, strange reason,” he chuckled, “we’ve fallen in love with this backwards little planet. That’s not why I’m staying, though.” He inhaled deeply while fisting the box in his jacket pocket. “Ummadra ul, Noelle. I love you.”

  Her heart flew apart then melded back together as the joy almost overwhelmed her. “I love you, too!”

  Under the mistletoe, they finally headed the sign and kissed while the angel sat atop her tree and smiled. The distant sound of children’s voices singing ‘O Christmas Tree’ drifted in from the gymnasium. With a huge grin, Steve took Noelle by the hand and led her towards the sound.

  Surrounding the Christmas tree, which was overflowing with more presents than Noelle knew the Center had been able to purchase, were all the children. Father Nathan stood with Anna and Mike. Kyle and Amber each had sleepy children on their laps and Garry was dressed up as Santa Claus. The kids stopped singing, many of the older ones hiding wide grins or muffling giggles behind their hands as Steve led Noelle closer to the tree.

  “I know this might be going against some ideals about tradition,” Steve started, trying not to let Noelle’s wide eyes and open mouth make him too nervous. “Even where I come from, this could be considered too forward… or too fast… or perhaps…”

  “Spit it out, ya yimesk,” Garry mumbled through his fake beard.

  Steve inhaled against his nerves then dropped to one knee. Fumbling only slightly with the box in his pocket, he opened the hinged lid and held it up to Noelle. “I wish for you to be my wife, Noelle, if you’ll take me as your husband?”

  Noelle struggled for air as the diamond sparkled within its wreath of rubies and emeralds. She looked away from the ring to Steve’s hopeful smile. There was no reason to be afraid and no excuse not to accept what she knew in her heart was the easiest choice she had ever made. With a happy exhale, she nodded. “Yes,” she fell into his embrace as he stood to catch her.

  “Ho-ho-ho! We have a yes!” Garry announced and the children joined him with cheerful applause.

  The excitement was contagious, and it became clear that no one would be going to bed anytime soon. Father Nathan agreed to let Santa hand out presents early, and it gave him such pleasure to see the happiness shared in their little Center. Bidding them an early goodnight on account of his age, he meandered to the quiet recesses of his cloistered office, a smile never leaving his lips.

  One down and four to go, he thought. With the bone-weary crack and pop of old age, he sat down at his desk and pulled out an old, faded picture. He, in his youth, stood among the Swedish monks who ha
d shown him such kindness after finding him stranded in the wilderness. Fingering the photo with a reminiscent caress, he recalled the day he traded such a simple thing as velcro to be able to stay on a planet that had brought him boundless faith, friendship and joy.

  ~ The End ~

  Stark Pleasure: The Space Magnate's Mistress

  LodeStar Series, Book 1

  Cathryn Cade

  Copyright 2013 Cathryn Cade

  www.cathryncade.com

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  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

  Chapter 1

  New Seattle Spaceport, Earth II

  Kiri te Nala eyed the holovid marquee across the concourse. Her insides knotted with nerves. Starfall, which meant the display changed from Quasi-ball to the big event, StarLotto. The game that was going to solve all her problems—she hoped.

  Intent on the brilliant turquoise levitating ball, she didn't notice her customer until he spoke.

  "Buy a Lotto marker?" His deep, smooth voice was traced with amusement.

  With an effort, Kiri focused on the man standing at her counter. It was polished to a gleaming black—no thanks to the Lower Aquarian who had trailed slime all over it earlier in the evening and left a stench. She'd broken out the big sprayer she kept for emergencies like Bartian visits.

  This man was as smooth as her counter, in the metaphoric sense. He certainly wouldn't slime anything he touched. She had to look up to meet his gaze and his broad shoulders blocked a chunk of her view. Unlike many residents of Earth II, his skin was clear and healthy, his gaze direct under his heavy, arching brows.

  For a few secs Kiri gazed back, his words a pleasant echo in her mind. Wow. His eyes were the dark gray of the heavy clouds that always hung over the Sound. Only when they narrowed slightly in speculation was she jerked from her reverie.

  "What?" She straightened, her face heating. Smooth, Kiri, very smooth. Gonna drool and slime him like the Lo-Aq? For one crazy instant she visualized herself offering to spray him like her counter.

  "Yeah, I have a marker," she said, finally remembering his question. Her voice, always husky, cracked with embarrassment.

  Then a flash of turquoise over his shoulder caught her eye. She held up one finger, her gaze riveted on the display over the gambling kiosk, heart pounding hard, as if it was trying to climb out of her throat.

  "Excuse me one sec. You think about which coffee you'd like. Got some new Pangaean dark in today. My flavors are all organic, no synthetics."

  He ignored her suggestion, turning to watch with her as numerals began to pop out in long, glittering rows on the ball—Earth numbers around the center, Galactic numerals just below, and the symbols of other planets arrayed above and below. Some of them looked like irregular blobs.

  Kiri took a breath and exhaled. This was it—the day she'd planned for.

  "One," she counted under her breath. Without looking, she pulled her comlink from the pocket of her trim black smock and flicked it on. The unit sputtered and she smacked it with the heel of her hand. "Seven."

  She glanced up and back, checking the numbers against her marker, displayed electronically on the tiny screen of her comlink. Although after spending the last three days figuring the probabilities, she knew them by heart. They'd danced through her dreams, luring her from sleep.

  Sleep she needed after a week of rioting near the docks, accompanied by the faraway thump of flashbombs and tube rockets. Night after night she woke in a cold sweat, wondering if that last explosion had been nearer to her tiny apartment.

  She'd awakened in a sweat this morning, too, but from excitement this time. If her plan worked, she'd be able to afford a new apartment. Not much larger, but if she could sleep safely and shower-dry in a clean tube, she wouldn't mind. She was tough, but not too tough to appreciate that.

  "Three … nine. Four, come on, four. Yes! Just one more …"

  The concourse rumbled as a big transport took off overhead. Kiri ignored it, her comlink shaking in her hand, damp with nerves. She rose up on her toes, gazing raptly at the holoscreen.

  The final number gleamed. Kiri blinked, unable at first to believe what she saw. "Eleven?" She looked again. "No, it can't be."

  It should have been a ten shining at the end of the row. Around her, time stilled. Her customer moved, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against her counter. The coffee machine sputtered as boiling water steamed in the well. A Serpentian female glided past on the concourse, her red-gold snakeskin suit glimmering in the lights. Travelers passed the other way chattering in Galactic, ciphers moving through their own world.

  As their ranks parted, movement across the concourse caught Kiri's eye. The small, crouching figure of a Vulpean lurked behind the counter of the gambling kiosk. His mouth opened in a sly grin, sharp teeth gleaming as he watched her. As their gazes met, his beady eyes widened and he ducked behind the rack of cheap fabricated snacks on his counter.

  "You fanged pile of stinking skrog manure," she said through her teeth. "You cheated me!"

  She threw back the end of her counter and bolted through the opening. Dashing across the concourse, she dodged a family of Barillians, leaping over their large luggage hovie-cart. One of the adults trumpeted an indignant protest through the lavender pipes protruding from his head.

  "You cheated!" she shouted at the cowering Vulpean. "Come out here, you little rat! I'll rip my credit out of your mangy hide. You can't do this to me!"

  The Vulpean leapt aside with an agility that belied his rotund frame. Just as Kiri reached the opening of the bay that held his kiosk, a network of glaring electrical charges hissed to life—a powerful security grid, capable of repelling even a huge Argonautian.

  Kiri would have slammed straight into it, but a powerful arm clamped around her waist, yanking her back. She found herself hanging off the floor, held against a hard body. Electricity from the grid inches away crackled in her short hair and prickled the bare skin of her face and hands.

  Her rescuer had saved her from injury, even disfigurement. And not all the heat was coming from the grid. She hadn't been held by anyone for months, and by a man this strong? Maybe never.

  Not that she had time for that now. Squinting through the hissing glare of the grid, she could just make out the Vulpean hiding in the shadows.

  "Let me go." She kicked and twisted against her captor's grip, beguiling as it was. "I'll kill the cheater." She'd figure out some way to get to him.

  "Quiet." He was already bearing her back across the concourse. "You've attracted enough attention. The port authority will be here in a few secs."

  He was right. The Barillian family had stopped to watch, their young wide-eyed. Other travelers were slowing as well. Humans, Serpentians and even a few Mauritians spilled out of the bar next door, grinning avidly at the disturbance. Kiri glared back, daring anyone to ridicule her.

  "Give 'em trouble, girlie," one of the women called in a whiskey-soaked voice.

  "I'll help you," a Mauritian added, waving his heavy ale mug. "We'll all help you." The bar crowd laughed raucously.

  "That gambling stand is crooked," she protested. "The Vulpean will be arrested soon—you just watch and see."

  One of the Barillians trilled in disgust. The family trooped away. A stocky man who looked like an off-duty Space Forces officer shook his head, grinning at her and her captor, but several of the bar's denizens moved further out onto the concourse, muttering amongst themselves.

  "Quiet, you little fool." Her rescuer's arm tightened around her waist. "Do you want to start a riot? The city is on edge, and those drunks are ready for trouble."

  He set Kiri down before her coffee stand and pushed her through the opening in the counter. The end slammed down, the stranger crowding inside with her. Kiri turned on him, taking care to stay clear of the
steaming coffee machine.

  "But he cheated me! The port authority had better arrive, or I'm calling them myself."

  "Why, because the random assortment of numbers you expected didn't come up? Let me guess, you've been watching it all week, and you had it all figured out—couldn't lose."

  "But I … I did have it figured. I've been watching it for more than a week—for fourteen turns."

  "And he was watching you. What in seven hells were you thinking, gambling there? Humans can't trust a Vulpean, you should know that. They consider us easy marks." He didn't add 'for obvious reasons', but then he didn't need to.

  Kiri lifted her hands to her face, battling the urge to sink to the floor and weep. She'd gambled money she didn't even have.

  She was so quarked.

  "I've been where you are," he added more gently. "And I know you're fighting mad, but violence won't help, just sink you deeper."

  Yeah, he might have been this desperate once, but he clearly wasn't now. She wasn't even sure she had enough credit to buy next week's supply of coffee, unless she went without protein tubes, or sold herself along with her coffee. She got plenty of those kinds of offers too.

  Even going to Tal Darkrunner would be better than that. At least he wouldn't expect her to share her body with other men. He was the jealous type.

  She had other friends, but none with credit to spare except Illyria, also her coffee broker, and Illyria's father watched every credit with a mean eye. Her narrow array of options set panic beating inside her chest like the wings of something too large that wanted to devour her from the inside.

  And she still had her uninvited guest to deal with.

  She lowered her hands far enough to look up at the male crowding her coffee stand. Sure enough, he was still watching her, and it wasn't with the abstracted kindness of a good-doer. His gaze held enough latent heat to run that security grid. Maybe he'd help her. And if he wanted something for it, well, he was certainly the most attractive man she'd seen in a long time.