“It was not my intention to get you drunk. That’s not the type of impression I wanted to make on my new bride,” he said. “Now, shall I sleep on the floor?”
She considered it. She knew she wouldn’t get any rest lying next to him—from nerves, not wandering hands or her suddenly very enthusiastic libido. Her nerves would keep her up even if he slept on the floor. “No, please don’t bother. I doubt either of us will fall asleep easily, and we should get used to sleeping in the same bed.”
“My tail might wander.” That grin.
Her knees went wobbly, either from exhaustion or the wine finally going to her head or just that damn sexy grin.
“I have it on good authority I’m probably really, really good in bed,” he teased.
Mortified, Kal wanted the ground to swallow her whole. “I think we can both agree I’m tired and maybe the change in gravity is messing with my head. Lord knows I can’t seem to stop my mouth from running. It’s not fair to tease me.”
The grin vanished, and his face grew serious. “My apologies. While I find you very appealing and also look forward to a marriage in the fullest sense, I will wait until we know each other better. My hands will stay on my side of the bed tonight.”
“Thank you. That helps calm my nerves.”
“Only I’d ask my wife to respect the line of demarcation and keep her hands to herself. No midnight trespassing.” He stretched out on the bed and winked.
“I think I’ll manage,” Kal said, dryly. She climbed into the bed and stayed as near the edge as possible. The sheets had a pleasing masculine scent that reminded her of rainstorms and lightning, crisp ozone paired with a deep, earthy calmness. She adjusted the pillow until satisfied, lying on her side.
“I usually take a run in the morning, before dawn. If you wake and I’m not here, that’s why.” He switched off the light, and the bed shifted with his weight as he settled. “Good night, mate.”
“Good night,” she said, knowing full well that sleep would remain elusive. She’d be dead on her feet in the morning after two nights of sleeping poorly, but there was nothing to do about it other than go through the motions and hope she got some rest. Surprisingly, excitement kept her mind churning rather than the more familiar doubt and worry.
She pressed her face into the pillow and took a deep breath, relishing the scent of fresh rain. She smiled.
This could be amazing or a massive mistake. She couldn’t wait to find out.
Chapter Four
Merit
He woke before dawn, as he normally did, feeling more well-rested than he had in ages, which surprised him. He had not slept well since the war. Every night he struggled to fall asleep. Even during the rare few times his racing thoughts did not keep him awake, he slept fitfully.
More recently, the kits climbed into the bed to nestle. They sought the reassurance of physical contact. It was instinct. He should have fallen into the childlike behavior himself and rested with Clarity curled next to him, but he feared what he might do during a dream when his control slipped. He wouldn’t hurt his niece, but he would frighten her.
Sharing a bed with Kal, however, felt natural. Comfortable. She fell asleep quickly and rolled into him, face tucked into his chest like she belonged there. His mind calmed, and for the first time in a long time, he truly rested.
Overnight, her sleep dress shifted up and exposed her tan thigh. He tugged the fabric down to preserve her modesty, lest she be alarmed when she woke to find it pushed up to her stomach and his paws on her. Cautiously, he rested a hand on her clothed hip.
He wanted to put his hands all over her and explore the dips and curves of her body, but not while she slept. When he touched his wife, he wanted to hear her moans, gasps, and purrs.
With more reluctance than he expected, he pulled himself out of bed and prepared for his run. Before he had the kits, he ran every day before breakfast. Amity’s presence allowed him a chance to run again, but he had to be back before the kits woke. He warmed up his body and promoted blood flow with a series of stretches, focusing on his left leg to relax the scar tissue.
He did a circuit of the town, visually inspecting the electronic fencing that discouraged the mornclaws from burrowing too close. He typically stopped at the Watchtower mid-route just as the shifts changed, discussed anything that occurred overnight, before continuing on.
The mornclaw life cycle meant that as soon as a clutch of eggs hatched, they were ready to lay a new clutch. A small infestation could explode into hundreds very quickly. The mornclaw egg exuded an enzyme that encouraged vegetation growth, creating lush, rich grasses to attract grazing animals. That same grass also acted as a sedative for the animals. Once the grass had been trampled and died back under hooves, rain or wind could expose the eggs. They hatched, feed off the fattened grazing animals. Entire pastures turned to useless dust and herds vanished overnight. It was not an exaggeration to have a rancher go to bed with a herd of healthy stock and to wake up after a rainstorm to find their pastures filled with the slaughtered remains.
Fortunately, mornclaws favored flat grasslands for their nests, which made surveillance easy with a network of drones. The creatures disliked the steep, rough hills surrounding Drac and would only nest there if desperate, which made the small community secure despite being well beyond the safe zones. Unfortunately, the same hills made monitoring via equipment difficult. Drones just could not get into the undergrowth and brush the way a person could. That meant his team needed to walk the hills.
Often, they were gone for days at a time. Every patch of dense vegetation had to be checked, as did every dusty patch of earth, which meant digging with a shovel to expose the clutch and destroy them. Newly hatched, mornclaw shells had yet to harden. Catching them early was easiest. Discovering them after they had already laid a clutch could be disastrous. Uncontrolled mornclaws could overwhelm a town, eating their way through every animal and person, all the while breeding more of the monsters.
The work never ended, even with the drones and other equipment provided by the Province. Mornclaws had once devastated Corra and brought the planet to a crisis from which it had yet to fully recover.
Approaching the house, his left leg ached. Yesterday he had minimized the damage his leg took when he spoke about his injury. Scar tissue ran from his left hip to the knee. Exercise prevented the scar tissue from growing stiff, but no amount of running would regrow the dead muscle that had been cut away. Truthfully, he should have lost the leg. An explosive sent shrapnel through his body. A large piece of metal wedged into an artery. If he removed it, he would have bled out and died in minutes. Instead, he had been forced to keep it in, letting it dig deeper, ripping into more of his thigh muscle, as his team retreated.
He walked as far as he could, limping the entire way, then his comrades carried him. He asked them to leave him behind, to wait for a medical evacuation. They refused. He ordered them to leave. They still refused. They knew medical would never arrive. They had been abandoned to a losing battle.
So, he walked, propped up on either side. Each step increased the likelihood that he’d lose the leg but the alternative was worse.
Amity could say what she wanted about Corra being a dangerous place to raise kits. Talmar was no better. Civil unrest troubled the planet for the last decade, which was the polite way to frame their long civil war. Three years ago, the fighting ceased with an accord. Amity lived in an area that had never fallen under rebel control, so she did not see the scars of the civil war on buildings and on the people. The peace had held longer than Merit thought possible, but the peace could be undone with a single bomb.
When Merit joined the Talmar military, it had been to protect his home world from foreign aggression. He did not sign up to fight his neighbors and kin.
Worse, he had sympathy for the rebels’ cause. Notoriously corrupt, one did not have to look far to see the criminal syndicates that pulled the strings in the Talmar government. He did not argue with the motive. He disagreed w
ith the methods. Civilians should never be harmed. Never. The rebels were willing to sacrifice themselves for their cause, but also more than willing to sacrifice others.
The damage to his leg ended his military career. He saw it for the opportunity it was. Merit took his stipend and left for a world were the worst he had to worry about was the hungry insectoid creatures that hatched after rainstorms.
Leg screaming now, he pulled himself up the front steps and into the house. The aroma of butter and sugar filled the air, making his stomach rumble. In the kitchen, he found Kalini standing on a chair with the wuap hissing at her feet.
Kalini
The beast snarled and hissed at her.
“Nice… kitty? Peacock? Catbird?” Kal stood on a kitchen chair while the animal circled, growling unhappily. About the size of an average house cat, vibrantly colored feathers covered the lizard-like creature, including a plumed tail like a peacock or bird-of-paradise. Its feathers puffed at the crest and its tail stood on end, puffed out for intimidation, if the razor-sharp claws failed to sufficiently intimidate.
The beast wore a collar, which told her it was someone’s idea of a pet. As to how it got in the house, she had yet to determine.
“Stay back,” she said, brandishing a spatula.
The unholy cat-lizard-bird swiped a paw at her feet.
All this for Scotch pancakes.
She woke alone, as expected. Merit’s quiet shifting out of bed had nearly woken her, but exhaustion dragged her back down to sleep. When dawn broke and flooded the room with soft, morning light, she buried her head under a pillow, but her bladder would not be ignored. She saw to the necessity, bathed, and dressed. A peaceful quiet lingered in the house with the children still asleep. She had no idea when they woke, but when they did, they’d want breakfast. She wandered into the kitchen to see what she could do.
The kitchen was far more archaic than she anticipated. Modern appliances were installed, but they seemed to be malfunctioning. Kal had to use the old-fashioned stove top. The coil burners heated until they were red. Anyone could carelessly touch the coils unawares and burn themselves. Just using the stove made her feel a bit dangerous and cavalier about her own safety.
Kal rummaged through the pantry and cooling unit to find ingredients. She had enough for Scotch pancakes, including honey and fruit to add as toppings. She had never really cooked without the house computer to guide her on measurements, so she did a bit of guesswork. She added milk until the consistency felt correct.
Everything was going great until the beast wandered in.
The front door opened, and Merit stood in the doorway, sweat glistening on his bare chest. “There’s my beautiful bride.”
“Thank God you’re here,” she said.
“I see you found Shadow.” He picked up the beast. It butted its head against his chin and purred contentedly.
“Shadow?” That seemed such a harmless, common cat name.
“Stalks from the Shadows is the full name, but that’s a mouthful. The kits named him. He’s normally very skittish and hides from strangers.” Merit gave Shadow an affectionate scritch under the chin before setting him down to fill a dish with dry food. It rubbed against his legs happily before eating.
“That’s your pet?” The normally skittish pet?
“The family wuap,” Merit said. “Did he bite you?”
“No. I’m fast when cornered by vicious house pets.” Kal shook her head. Shadow had growled immediately when he sauntered into the kitchen, giving Kal enough time to climb to safety.
Merit raised an eyebrow at her position on the chair. “Need a hand?”
“The pancakes!” Kal jumped down and dashed to the stove. Muttering under her breath, she slid the well-done pancake onto a plate. She frowned at the blackened surface. “We’ll just call that the practice one.”
He leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest and a grin on his face.
Kal suddenly felt self-conscious about the leggings and old tunic she put on this morning. She should try to put her best foot forward, but no one rolled out of bed looking perfect.
Except him. Even after a run, rather than being sweaty and gross, his skin glowed and his hair sported the perfect amount of tousling.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Kal ignored the warmth flooding her cheeks.
“Were you checking me out?”
“No,” she lied. She refilled the pan with batter, eyes fixed firmly on the pan, waiting to flip.
He stood behind her and slid an arm around her waist. “It’s only fair if you were because I was checking out my beautiful mate.” He rubbed the side of her face with his before resting his chin on her shoulder. Fresh rain and earth tickled her nose. How did he smell so good after a run? Kal stank just from thinking about it, but somehow her new husband smelled like he just stepped out of the shower.
“Stay back, please. I don’t want to burn you or myself,” Kal said. A flip revealed a golden brown, perfect pancake. On her way to mastering the archaic appliance, she shimmied her shoulders in triumph.
“This is a pancake?” Merit nibbled on the ruined pancake. “It is nothing but carbs and sugar.”
“Scotch pancakes. We can have them with butter and syrup or honey or fruit. Anything, really. I favor honey and bananas, myself.” She imagined that bananas would be hard to come by but the fruit she found that morning looked appealing.
“Can I help?”
She set Merit to peeling and slicing the fruit. Between the two of them, they finished cooking breakfast in no time.
“Do we need to wake up the children?” Kal asked, setting a bowl of sliced fruit on the table.
“They’re good about waking up with their alarms. We shower the night before and set out their school uniforms. They dress themselves,” Merit said. He grabbed her as she passed by and pulled her into his lap. She giggled and batted at his shoulders, but he would not relinquish his hold.
“What if someone sees?” she asked. She twisted to face him and planted a hand on either shoulder.
“Let them.” Merit rubbed the other side of her face with his. The action struck Kal as extraordinarily intimate. She should have been shocked at the liberties he took, his presumption, but she enjoyed the feel of his skin against her, his purr against her ear. He pulled away, eyes gleaming, and licked his lower lip. Kal found herself leaning in, drawn to him.
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Fairly well, considering it’s a strange bed.” Next to a stranger. A sexy stranger who needed to be kissed.
“Uncle Merit! I need you to braid my hair.” Clarity ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop, eyes wide. Shadow trotted up to the girl and rubbed against her legs. The pet cast a meaningful look at Kal and hissed. Instinctively, Kal pulled closer to Merit for protection from the feathered beast.
“Are you kissing?” Clarity asked.
Kal jumped up from Merit, positive guilt was all over her face. She busied herself by getting the milk from the cooling unit for her tea.
“No,” Merit said. “Kalini made us Earth food for breakfast.”
“Smells sweet.”
“Which means you’ll love it. Have a pancake and fruit. That is how we eat it?” he asked, directing the question to Kal.
“Yes. Let me show you.” Kal buttered one pancake and topped it with the fruit and honey.
Clarity happily ate until Amity and Dare arrived. “Uncle Merit and Kalini were kissing! It was so gross!”
“You do not have time for such indulgences,” Amity scolded. Merit protested that they were not kissing but his words were ignored. She sat at the table with a confused expression. “What is this?”
“Earth food. It’s good,” Clarity said, mouth full. Bits of honey and crumbs stuck to the corners of her mouth.
Amity lifted a corner of a pancake and frowned. “I believe I have time to make a proper breakfast.”
“I wanna try Earth food.” Dare helped himself to a
short stack and smeared it with too much honey. Shadow stood on its hind legs and put its paws on his chair. Dare fed him a honey-soaked piece.
“Don’t feed Shadow table scraps,” Merit said in a bored, automatic tone.
“But he’s hungry. He wants breakfast,” Dare said.
“I feed Shadow after my run, every morning. I’m barely in the door before he’s all over me demanding kibble. Don’t let that greedy one con you into a second breakfast.”
“He’s not greedy, he’s a jerk,” Dare said.
“Don’t use words like that,” Merit replied.
“But that’s what Dad called him. A jerk of the highest caliber.”
A pained look passed over Merit’s face. “Don’t use words like that in front of your sister. You’re older, you need—”
“Need to set a good example,” Dare replied in a monotone voice, implying that they’ve had that conversation before.
“Yeah, I’m delicate and impressionable,” Clarity said, a smug grin on her face like a mischievous imp.
Right. Kal had the measure of that one.
“Wash your face after you finish eating,” Amity told the girl, “and I will braid your hair. Hurry.”
Clarity stuffed the remaining pancake in her mouth and rushed off to the cleansing room. Dare also finished and went to wash his face. Delicate eaters, they were not.
“What are your plans for the day, brother?” Amity asked. She picked at the fruit, but none made it to her mouth.
“I figured I’d clean up before walking the kits to school with Kal and show her around town, stop by the general store, and then head to the Watchtower. Do you need me to pick up anything while I’m at the store?”
“No. I am in need of a few items, but I will go myself.”
Merit turned to Kal. “That agreeable to you?”
“Sure. Sounds lovely.” If they went to the general store, she could get a wrap like Amity wore yesterday. Kal drained her tea. “Let me get my walking shoes on.”
Have Tail, Will Travel Page 6
