Light of Kaska

by Michelle O'Leary

  She snickered. "You’ll get used to it, Chase."

  "Kessu preserve me," he muttered and she snickered again.

  Chapter 17

  Morning arrived with a brilliant splash of sunlight and a newfound sense of wellbeing. Keza wanted to leap out of bed, dance around the room, and maybe break into song. Except she had a terrible singing voice and getting out of bed would mean leaving the gorgeous man sprawled next to her. So she grinned and stretched instead, nearly groaning at the luxurious sensation of limber muscles and satisfying, sweet tenderness.

  Chase muttered something incoherent into the pillow and her grin widened. She had to hand it to him—the man had tried to escape. But she’d been delighted to discover a new, amazing power. He hadn’t lied; he really couldn’t resist her when she touched him, stroked him. Especially when she used her mouth.

  Keza sighed with remembered ecstasy, the morning growing hazy with erotic images. Shivering in delight, she turned on her side and propped her head in her hand before trailing reverent fingers over warm, cinnamon skin.

  "No," he growled with dark menace, though most of the impact was muffled by the pillow.

  "Oh, yes," she purred, running fingertips down his ribs and over his hip.

  He moved just like a panther, swift, ruthless, and powerful. She squeaked when he snagged her hand and rolled with her, imprisoning her body with his weight and manacling her wrists to the bed. His midnight eyes glittered down at her, his hard face sharp with predatory intent. "No petting."

  She beamed at him and wiggled under his delicious weight, thrilling at the hard evidence of her effect on him. "Good morning, Chase. Sleep well?"

  He scowled. "Stop that. How sore are you?"

  "Not nearly sore enough," she breathed, batting her lashes.

  He made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. "You don’t fool me. We’re going right down to the clinic and—"

  She lifted her head and ran her tongue over his bottom lip. "Mmm, you taste like dark chocolate," she whispered.

  "I said stop that," he said, though his voice had roughened into a hungry growl and his head lowered, following her mouth.

  "Can’t stop," she sighed. "I’m addicted. If I say pretty please, will you let me taste you all over again?" She sank her teeth gently into his bottom lip, delighting in his firm flesh and his full body shudder.

  "Damn it," he muttered and slanted his mouth over hers in ravenous demand.

  With a moan of delirious triumph, she molded her mouth to his and made a few demands of her own. After he had taken her past ecstasy and wrapped her once again in euphoric bliss, Keza decided they’d never leave the bed. Not even the Goddess’s Garden could be this incredible.

  Unfortunately, the man she loved had other plans.

  "No," she groaned when he dragged her to a sitting position.

  "Oh, yes," he muttered, tugging her to her feet. "I’m getting a scan on you right now."

  "Stop that," she snapped, trying to pull out of his grip. "If we have to get up, I’m only agreeing to a shower and breakfast."

  He glowered down at her, holding her hostage against his hard body. "We overdid it again."

  "You think so?" Keza asked with a sudden, lascivious grin. "Come in the shower with me and I’ll show you overdoing it." When his eyes narrowed alarmingly, she sighed. "Okay, maybe not. Seriously, Chase, I feel great." Melting against him with a winning smile, she amended, "Better than great—ecstatic, super flexible, and very, very hungry. Please, let’s just go get breakfast. Have you had Nade’s fruit strudel yet?"

  "Stop trying to distract me. How sore are you?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Get over it, Chase. You didn’t hurt me and if you ask me that one more time, I’ll smack you." Making a show of sniffing his chest, she wrinkled her nose theatrically. "Wow, do we smell. Nobody will feed us ‘til we shower." She smiled up at him through her lashes. "Want to take one with me?"

  With a low, disapproving rumble, he propelled her to the bathing room and left her there. Deflated, she made a face at the closed door and got on with her morning routine. She was even more deflated when she returned to the bedroom to discover that Chase had left.

  "That’s what I get for not putting chains on him," she sighed with a sour look at the empty bed. Quickly pulling on a sunny yellow dress in the hopes that her mood would soon improve to match the color, she went hunting for the man. Again. "This is getting to be a very bad habit, Chase Stryker," she snarled under her breath.

  Rogue intercepted her in the corridor before she could make it to the kitchen courtyard. His eyes dancing with mischief, he gave her a grin guaranteed to spike her blood pressure. "Morning, sis. How was your night?"

  "Don’t start, Rogue," she warned in her best big sister tone, folding forbidding arms across her chest. But that had never worked on him.

  "Grumpy again? Would’ve thought your mood would be better since you finally caught up with your shadow man. Not so good the second time around?"

  She bared her teeth and lunged at him, but he danced easily out of her reach with a light laugh.

  "Don’t worry, sis, there’s still time to switch up. You’ve got another candidate waiting in the receiving room."

  "Damn it, Rogue!" she yelped with real temper this time. "What is the matter with you? I said no more candidates!"

  "Hey, I told the guy, but he insisted on hearing it from you," her brother responded with a careless grin. Risking life and limb, he leaned close to brush quick lips against her cheek. "Have fun."

  Her wordless growl elicited only an unrepentant chuckle as he moved off down the corridor. Muttering about annoying brothers and dire consequences, she veered off the path to the kitchen and headed instead for the receiving room where the Marish Mater and Materi met with more formal visitors. Laying a hand on the door, Keza took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was representing her entire House. Therefore she had to be polite. Her reward would be to wring her brother’s neck later.

  Plastering a social smile on her face, she opened the door and stepped into the angular room with its formal sitting areas and wide glass doors opening onto an elegant deck overlooking the beaches. Welcoming and rich without being ostentatious, the room had received dignitaries from across the globe and beyond, serving as a reflection of the Marish House’s stature and public face.

  The man applying for candidacy sat facing the impressive oceanic vista, his back to her. Forcing her reluctant feet forward, Keza said in as pleasant a tone as she could manage, "Welcome to the Marish House. I’m Sukeza bet Marish. My brother tells me that…you…"

  As she came closer, the man rose and turned, stepping toward her with a grim smile and a strange glitter in his eyes.

  Keza’s jaw dropped open. "C-Clavis?" she squeaked.

  "You’re lookin’ good, Suki," the big man said as he neared her. "Place seems ta suit you. Too bad you ain’t stayin’."

  His fist followed on the heels of his words, flashing out and connecting with the side of her face. Black stars and fireworks burst across her vision, obscuring the sight of Clavis’s triumphant grin and the tilting room. She fell into darkness without even a cry for help.

  *******

  Stryker glanced around Keza’s empty suite of rooms with a frown, setting down the platter of strudel on the kitchenette table. He’d showered and changed like lightening in his own room, and the kitchen staff had been obligingly swift in getting their breakfast together. He’d thought he had plenty of time and would find her still getting dressed. Obviously, she was quicker than he’d guessed—maybe less sore than he’d imagined. He lifted his head with a flare of hope. But if she’d left to go to breakfast, why hadn’t he passed her on the way there?

  "House, find Keza." There was a low ping, but no other response. He frowned again. "Location of Sukeza bet Marish," he said in a firmer voice.

  "Unable to comply," the house system replied in an androgynous monotone.

  A twist of unease laced through his gut, but St
ryker shook it off. This wasn’t his dark world—this was Kaska, full of incomprehensible light. If Keza hadn’t gone to breakfast, where would she go that the House couldn’t follow? He could only think of one place—the selkie playground.

  With a surge of anticipation, he grabbed the platter again and strode out the door, stuffing one of the strudels in his mouth to stave off the growling beast in his belly. She must have read his mind. He was eager to get started on the construct, to share his obsession with her. He was also eager to get in the water with his Keza. Putting his hands all over that sleek, wetsuit-encased body was one of his most stimulating fantasies.

  But she wasn’t there. Not in the water, not in the observatory, not in the changing rooms or the beach. That twist of unease returned, sending him bolting up the stairs. He found Harle in the bright courtyard.

  "Can’t find Keza," he said without preamble.

  Face filled with easy humor, Harle opened his mouth then took a closer look at Stryker. His silver-blue gaze sharpened and his big body tensed. "What do you mean, can’t?" Harle growled, surging to his feet and heading for the interior of the house.

  "System says she’s not in the house. She’s not in the water or the beach, either. I just checked. Where the hell is she, Harle?"

  Harle stopped in the shadows, his face hard with purpose. "House, last known location of Sukeza bet Marish."

  A holo flickered, showing a grand room more formal in line and decoration than the rest of the house. Large glass doors stood open to the ocean.

  "The receiving room?" Harle muttered. "House, connect me with Rogue."

  A moment later, Keza’s younger brother appeared in holo with a quizzical smile. "Yeah, Harle?"

  "Why was Keza in the receiving room?"

  Stryker could tell by Harle’s grim tone that he already knew. Rogue’s smile spread into a taunting grin as his eyes flicked to Stryker’s tense form.

  "Oh, you know, the usual. Just another candidate to interview for our First Materi. She’s in such high dema—"

  "Who was it, you little bastard?" Stryker snarled, lunging forward until his face nearly broke through the holo, hands slapping into the wall.

  Rogue smirked. "You wouldn’t be jealous by any—"

  "She’s missing, Rogue," Harle interrupted, his big hand gripping Stryker’s shoulder in a restraining hold.

  Keza’s brother lost his humor on wave of shock. "What?"

  "House, show last occupants of the receiving room, last couple minutes."

  "Restricted—"

  "Security override, authorization Harle zeta thirty-two." Harle flicked Stryker a silver edged glance and added in a mutter, "Privacy override. Don’t use it ‘less I have to."

  Stryker couldn’t answer. Not when he saw Keza, dressed in sunshine, entering a room already occupied by a monster. "Kessu’s balls," he snarled, then roared with rage when he saw Clavis hit her. His Keza crumpled like a paper doll and monstrous fear road his rage like a goad. He swore, fast and low, his voice the guttural sound of a cornered animal as he watched Clavis hoist her to his shoulder and carry her to the glass doors. The fat man opened them, stepped through, and the holo disappeared.

  Stryker pounced, hands fisting in Harle’s shirt. "Where?" he growled.

  "Deck leads to the beaches," Harle muttered, not paying much attention to Stryker’s vicious hold. "‘Less he walks around the point, only way back to mainland is up through the house. If he had a boat, though…" Harle winced and moved away, dragging Stryker for a second before brushing off his grip with an impatient look. "Don’t have time for you to crag, man. Let’s get her back. House," he called as he loped through the corridors, Stryker on his heels, "Lockdown as of right now. Nobody in, nobody out without my say so. I want perimeter vid last half hour and full security detail in my office pronto."

  "Fuck that," Stryker snarled and veered off toward the stairs to the beach. "Wasting time, badge."

  "You let me know how that works for you, connie," Harle called after him, not slowing or following.

  Stryker sprinted to the beach, shading his eyes to stare up at the colossal house and find the deck off the receiving room. His eyes followed the stairs as they zig-zagged from the deck down to the beach. He ran to that point and studied the sand around the base of the stairs. No conclusive signs. Not realizing that he was baring his teeth like a rabid animal, he spun toward the water and lunged for the harder packed sand. There, recent marks in the sand, a large, partial footprint and a single, deep groove made by…what, a boat?

  "Fuck!" Stryker remembered Harle’s wince at the possibility that the bastard had taken Keza by boat and concluded that she’d be a lot harder to find if that was the case. He paced the water’s edge for a moment, eyes scanning the waves with a growing sense of desperation. He needed to find her, needed to kill Clavis. Needed his Keza back where she belonged.

  There was a shout behind him and he spun into a fighter’s crouch. But it was just one of Harle’s security drones. The woman bounded up to him, her face urgent. "Chief wanted you to know, found a boat on perimeter vid. Tracked direction, let Ocean Patrol know, but lost the boat. Chief’s in contact with Patrol, wants you in his office."

  "What direction?" he rasped, clenching his hands into fists.

  "Southeast," she answered with a gesture toward the point. "Along the coast." She hesitated for a second, studying him with a crease between her eyes. "We’ll find them. We’ll bring Keza home."

  Turning, he stared along the coast while something hard and painful squeezed his chest. "You lost the boat."

  "Patrol will pick it up. Even if they don’t, there’s no way he could get her off Kaska—"

  She fell silent when Stryker shot her a wild, furious look over his shoulder. He knew there was a way off any rock. He’d been planning several since he’d arrived. "You tellin’ me there’s nothing Harle can do?"

  She stiffened, young face taking on a pinched look. "We’ve got our own boats going out. And the Chief’s ordered sweeps with ground-to-air transports. Chief wants you in his office," she repeated in a tight voice, before spinning on her heel and trotting away.

  Stryker curled his lip in a silent snarl and turned his back on her, searching the waves with impotent fury. He didn’t know why Clavis would have kidnapped Keza but he remembered the big man very well, remembered the avid contempt in his beady eyes when he looked at her. Transport sweeps and boat searches weren’t going to be fast enough.

  He paced the water’s edge, staring at the point and considering several actions before discarding them one by one. Kessu’s ghost, he needed her back, needed her to be safe. Just the image of Clavis’s fist connecting with her face made him sick with murderous rage. The thoughts of what Clavis could be doing to her right now tore him apart, pushing him to the edge of madness.

  A movement distracted him, a dark head in the water that made him stagger forward in hope before he realized it wasn’t his Keza. The selkie stared at him for a moment, bobbing on the waves. Then it opened its mouth and made a sound, a long, wavering call that tugged at him strangely.

  He shook his head and turned away from the creature, pacing through the shallows. Damn it, how could he reach her? He was about to give up the beach and head in to Harle’s office to demand a transport for himself when the selkie appeared in the shallows at his feet. He jerked to a stop before he tumbled over it, muttering a startled curse. Those big, dark eyes stared up at him and the beast tugged at his pants leg with a webbed hand.

  Stryker pulled back, snarling his impatience. "This ain’t play time, you freaky little—"

  The selkie made that sound again, the eerie, undulating call sending a shudder down his spine. Then it scrambled forward and grabbed a fistful of his clothes, tugging him toward the water with an urgency that finally translated to his senses. There was no playfulness in the selkie, only need and demand.