Light of Kaska

by Michelle O'Leary

  Fuck, he’d lost it. Out of his blasted mind. With a sharp shake of his head and a despairing growl, he focused on their approach to the planetoid. He contacted traffic control and announced himself using an alias and a fictitious ship ident. The bored, drawling voice didn’t challenge him, directing him to the docking area for his ship class. He knew his false name and ident would raise flags in any Universal System, but he also knew it wouldn’t be checked. That’s why he’d chosen this place. Most of their clientele were outworld rats—it wouldn’t do to call attention to themselves, unless they were feeling suicidal.

  Midway through docking procedures, he heard Sukeza stir. He didn’t look over his shoulder, just reached to pull the divider across behind his seat. Gravity settled over them in slow waves, pulling him down into the chair. With the ease of long practice, he shifted to accommodate the change, listening for any sounds of distress from his passenger. But the change must have been gradual enough not to cause her any problems—he heard nothing but quiet rustling sounds.

  Jockeying the cutter into its cradle, Stryker felt only a small shudder when the ship made contact and the airlock sealed around their hatch. A mechanical, automated voice welcomed them to Bristol Cross, announcing the berthing cost and giving directions to various informational hubs. He ignored it, having heard it many times before. With swift fingers, he dispatched the credit necessary to pay for the ship’s berth and heard the airlock chime as dockside gave them open passage.

  Then he killed some time requesting information on who else was docked at Bristol, listening for signs that Sukeza was ready. When he was sure he wouldn’t be violating her privacy, he pushed the divider back into place and turned to look her over. She was wearing dark slacks and a cream blouse with a thick, natty sweater over it, her hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head. Very country, very demure, and not at all provocative.

  Unfortunately, it turned him on.

  With a long-suffering sigh, he rose and snagged his shirt from where it’d fallen. Yanking it over his head, he asked, “Ready?” When she didn’t answer, he looked at her again. Her face was pale and she was bracing herself against the hull. “What’s the matter?”

  She grimaced, avoiding his gaze. “Hiber-sleep. I get queasy and headachy after. Do you have a tonic or something?”

  Of course she’d get sleep-sick. Naturally. Tightening his jaw, he hit the hatch release. “Farmers took the restoratives. We’ll grab something on the way. Come on.”

  They moved into the airlock and the station air hit them, ripe with the complex smell of the outworlds, the stink of machines and people pushed past endurance, decadence and decay living side by side. Stryker barely noticed—this smell was as familiar to him as his own skin.

  Sukeza turned green.

  “On second thought, wait here,” he said warily, watching her for signs of projectile vomiting while he backed through the airlock. He found what he needed quickly and brought her the antidote to the hiber-drugs. Their second attempt to enter the station went much more smoothly.

  Then Stryker began to enjoy himself. He couldn’t remember ever appreciating Bristol so much, ever being so grateful for the seedy, brutal side of this place, because Sukeza transferred her fear of him onto everyone else. Now, instead of avoiding his touch, she was plastered to his side, griping his arm so tightly that her knuckles were white while she watched the passersby with wide, anxious eyes. He tried not to gloat. One hairy beast of a man leered at her and she damn near climbed him. He wrapped an arm around her and she tucked against him with complete trust. He wanted to kiss the ugly brute. He gave him a warning look instead and the man kept moving.

  “What…is this place?” she asked in a thready, breathless voice.

  “Just an outpost,” he answered, slowing his pace to prolong the pleasure of holding her, savoring her trust. It made him feel like a god. “Traders, scavengers, smugglers mostly. Nowhere near any exchanges, even minor ones, so there are no major players out here. Just a bunch of lowlifes, looking to survive. Stop making eye contact, Keza,” he said with some humor as a fierce looking woman glowered at his charge.

  Sukeza squeaked something inaudible and ducked her chin.

  Stryker smothered a grin and settled her closer against him. “The businesses you see here cater to that crowd—bars, hotels, food stops, and re-supply places like that one over there. Mostly, it’s a place to meet buyers and unload goods, or vice versa. So there’s lots of entertainment, loud places where people can’t hear you and don’t care anyway. We’re headed for the biggest one on this rock. The owner’s a friend of mine.”

  They exited a wide passageway and entered a cavernous area, ringed by businesses with flashy signs and bright lights. Mobile shops dotted the center and the crowd ebbed and flowed around the space like a restless amoeba. At the far end, a huge sign in ominous purples proclaimed the sprawling business below it to be, “Belladonna’s Delight.” Stryker headed straight for it.

  He tried the side entrance first, but it was blocked by a stunner barricade and no one was in sight. With a frown, he turned Sukeza toward the front entrance. He wished he didn’t have to go in the main way—too many people would get a look at his face. But maybe he was just being paranoid. Bella’s was so smoke-thick and packed that an army could go through and no one would notice.

  As they drew near the doorway, he glanced down at Sukeza and smirked at her round eyes and open mouth. Yeah, this was going to be fun, too. Heavy, throbbing music vibrated the rock under his feet and tendrils of smoke curled out of the open doorway. The doorway itself suggested a biting mouth, metal points like teeth hovering over their heads while they stepped to the threshold.

  Sukeza balked. “Is that Haze?” she asked, staring at the bluish smoke.

  “Yeah,” he answered, studying her with amusement. “You get sick off that, too?”

  She shook her head, closing her mouth with a very determined look on her face. He nearly laughed. He’d bet a hundred credits that she’d never inhaled Haze in her life. An annoyed patron brushed by them with an expletive and Sukeza got her feet moving again, but not for long. Her second dead stop happened to be at the pay counter, so he didn’t fuss about it while he paid for their entrance.

  Then the bouncer offered Sukeza a flail. “On the house,” he shouted. She recoiled, staring in obvious shock and amazement from his tattooed, metal-spiked features to the freak show that was Bella’s. Chains, whips, cages, piercings, nakedness, and congenial violence abounded. The thick Haze made it even more surreal, hiding and then revealing scenes out of someone’s worst nightmare—or dirtiest fantasy.

  Sukeza turned wide eyes to him. Stryker lifted his eyebrows, keeping his expression neutral. She swallowed visibly as she shut her open mouth again and turned to the bouncer. “Thank you,” she said and surprised Stryker by taking one of the flails. The big man gave her a wink and a friendly grin. Stryker felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and decided they needed to get moving.

  Grabbing Sukeza’s wrist, he pulled her into the crowd. The music beat through his body, a disconcerting counterpoint to his own heart. The sweetly spicy Haze filled his nostrils and stung his eyes for a moment until he adjusted to it, absently noting the mild buzzing sensation he achieved from the smoke. He’d been around the stuff too much to feel more than that anymore. It was humid and hot in this wicked candy store, the smell of perfume, sweat, and sex heavy in the air as bodies pressed around him.

  He ignored most of it. This was familiar territory and he had a destination in mind. The crowd parted for him, his aura of dangerous menace a little too real in this fantasyland. Halfway there, he almost lost his hold on Sukeza, her small wrist jerking in his grip. He turned to see that another man had grabbed her other arm. He was grinning lazily down at Sukeza, his eyes avid while he studied her. He said something but the blaring music covered it.

  Stryker saw Sukeza pull futilely at her trapped arm and felt a startling wave of crimson rage wash over him. It was irrati
onal and inappropriate, considering where they were. It would have been unusual to get through the place without at least one offer made. But he couldn’t seem to help it, staring at the man’s hand on his Keza with a murderous fury that washed away thought.

  Just before he tore the man into bloody bits, Sukeza pulled her wrist out of his grip and, swift and fluid, struck the other man across his grinning face with the flail. “Bad dog!” she bellowed over the blaring music, an incredible feat in itself. “Sit!”

  The man obviously hadn’t seen it coming. Stryker sure as hell hadn’t seen it coming. He stared down at his little country mouse with as much shock as the other man, watching her raise the flail again in clear threat, her small form taut. The man let her go, rubbing his red-striped face while his buddies roared with laughter. Grinning, the man dropped to his knees and pantomimed a panting, begging dog.

  Sukeza turned her back on him, amber eyes desperate when she met Stryker’s gaze. He slipped an arm around her, giving the offender a steely look that had him scrambling to his feet and backing away. Keeping her close to his side, Stryker pushed through the crowd to the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor. A bodyguard stood at attention, his sharp gaze and ready bulk a warning sign that no one tested.

  No one except Stryker.

  “I need to see Bella,” he hollered over the deafening noise.

  The man lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. It was a new guy, one Stryker hadn’t seen before.

  “Tell her it’s Stryker. We’ll wait at the tables,” he told the guard and turned away without waiting for acknowledgement.

  He pulled Sukeza down a wide hallway lined with cubbies, most of which had their privacy screens on. Noticing that all were filled, he stopped at one and keyed in the code that most people didn’t know. The screen dropped and the threesome inside shrieked with dismay and anger. Unmoved, Stryker jerked his thumb over his shoulder in dismissal. One of the women continued to spew invectives which he couldn’t hear over the music, but the man gathered clothes and toys quickly, eyes downcast while he pushed the two women out of the booth and around Stryker.

  When the place was clear, he waved Sukeza in. She stared at the wide, C-shaped seat with dubious eyes until he touched a small receptacle, pulling out a sani-wipe and handing it to her. With what looked like suppressed humor, she took it from him and nodded gravely, wiping while she made her slow way into the booth around the small table in the center. Smothering a grin, he slid in the other side.

  She set the used wipe and the flail down on the table with exaggerated care and he studied her face in the smoky atmosphere. Was she feeling the Haze? She had to be. He felt a twinge of concern and reached over, touching her chin to lift her gaze to his. Her eyes were a little glassy, but other than that she looked all right. A little shell-shocked but basically all right.

  “Okay?” he mouthed and she nodded.

  Satisfied, he was about to activate the privacy screen when a man appeared. Her overeager whipping boy. Stryker stiffened, feeling the hackles rise on the back of his neck, but the man held up his hands and smiled disarmingly at them both. Stryker was about to send him packing anyway when he noticed Sukeza edging closer to his side. Interesting. He considered the man’s engaging smile and sat back, putting an arm across the seat behind Sukeza. They had a few minutes and he was frankly curious to see what she’d do with the guy this time.

  Sukeza shook her head, but the man seemed to be taking his cue from Stryker. He sat down, a charming smile still on his face even while she shook her head more vigorously. He lifted his eyebrows, looked pointedly down at the flail and back to her face, ducking his head like a chastised boy, before coming up with a wolfish grin and hungry eyes. He slid closer.

  Sukeza almost climbed in Stryker’s lap.

  While this was a very pleasant turn of events, Stryker could see that the other guy thought she was open prey, at the very least a shared treat for the two males. Time to end the game. Stryker leaned forward slightly, catching the other man’s attention. Then he tipped his head toward the passageway. The man tried a silent entreaty, but Stryker didn’t relent. Looking crestfallen, the man slid out of the booth slowly, giving Sukeza a hot, regretful glance before he disappeared.

  Sukeza seemed to go boneless with relief, her body sagging into the seat, her head flopping back onto his arm. He activated the privacy screen, shutting out most of the noise. There was a faint ringing in his ears and his voice sounded muffled when he asked, “You okay?”

  “You just had to pick this place, didn’t you?” she responded in a hoarse voice, her eyes closed. Then she looked at him, her mouth curving in a small, wry smile. “I’m never going to be the same, thanks for asking.”

  He blamed it on the smile later, the first she’d ever given him. Or maybe it was her eyes, heavy with Haze and bright with humor. Or the feel of her soft body pressed all along his side and the fact that she didn’t move away. She wasn’t afraid of him and it went to his head like a drug.

  He lowered his mouth to hers. Right about then, his world turned over. She gasped, inhaling his breath and then giving it back to him on a sigh. He breathed her in, soaking in her sunshine smell like an addict as he brushed his lips over hers. Her mouth was so soft, lips pliable and giving under his, at first cool then moist and hot under his kiss. She tasted like nectar and his head swam with it, delirious and disoriented like a first time drunk.

  He lifted his head slowly, trying to right himself, trying to remember how to think. Breathing deeply, he listened to the deafening beat that was not the music but just his heart and looked into her eyes.

  Just like that, he was lost.

  The amber was hazy, lids heavy and lashes a sultry sweep. The hunger he’d been keeping on a thread-thin leash broke free. Lowering his head, he kissed her again, hard, hot, and demanding, devouring her. He curled his arm around her shoulders and slipped his other hand over her hip, pulling her closer. Her hands lifted but didn’t push him away. One hand fisted in his shirt and the other tightened around his bicep, fingers kneading his muscles with an urgency that nearly made him explode.

  He needed her closer. He needed to be inside her. Taking possession of her sweet mouth wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get deep enough. Her slick tongue and sharp little teeth were driving him wild, but it was her moan that pushed him over the edge. He started to drag her onto his lap, to straddle him so he could thrust inside her, but something hard slapped him on the shoulder and a deep voice boomed, “Hey!”

  Stryker whipped his head around, snarling with very real, very savage fury at the interruption. The bodyguard straightened away but didn’t retreat, meeting his rage with a flat, impersonal stare. That was when Stryker remembered where the hell he was. And why.

  Holy shit.

  Straightening slowly, he gave the man a grim nod and released Sukeza. She sat up, blinking with dazed incomprehension from him to the bodyguard. Pointing to the passageway, he gave her a little nudge to get her moving. With the privacy screen down the music was back full force, a blast of sound that pressed on his eardrums and prevented conversation. He hadn’t noticed the dropped screen or the music. He hadn’t sensed anyone watching, hadn’t even remembered where they were. Kessu, one kiss and she’d completely blasted his mind away.

  She moved slowly and he followed, registering the tremors in his body and the deep, grinding ache in his groin. The worst part was, even knowing where they were, if the bodyguard reset the screen and walked away Stryker knew he’d be pressing her down onto the seat, stripping her bare, and burying himself balls deep in her sweet body. He shuddered, trying desperately to block that image.

  Impossible. He’d never lost control like this in his life, not even when he was a teenager. Control was all he had. But nothing had ever mattered this much. Nothing had ever made him feel this raw, this lost. And it had only been a single damned kiss.

  Sukeza stood and swayed. Stryker rose swiftly, steadying her on one side while the bodyguard caught her arm
on the other side. Clenching his jaw against the urge to beat the guy bloody for touching her, he gave the guard a stiff nod instead.

  The man nodded in return, releasing Sukeza and stepping back to wave them down the passageway. “Bella’s waiting,” he hollered.

  Stryker nodded again but didn’t move. Glancing down at Sukeza, he assessed her condition. She seemed steady on her feet now, but there was still a dazed look in her eyes, a blankness to her features that was unusual. She waved a distracted hand and said, “I’m okay,” her voice swallowed by the music, but he read the words clearly enough on her lips.

  He ushered her down the passageway, wincing a little at the constricting rub of his clothes when he followed her. It wasn’t easy to walk with a hard-on like a steel rod in his pants. He shook his head again in despair. One damned kiss.

  Sukeza walked up the stairs, a feat she was rather proud of. She was extremely surprised she could walk at all, considering the fact that she couldn’t feel her legs. Or, well, she could sense them, but they seemed too distant and weak to actually respond to her brain’s commands. The rest of her felt just as wobbly and unfamiliar, as if her brain had been transplanted into someone else’s body. It wasn’t the Haze. She knew it would surprise the hell out of Stryker, but she’d had Haze before. She’d felt a little dizzy and loose-jointed from the smoke earlier, but her current condition was entirely due to him and his kiss.