Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  “Shalia, I hope this isn’t too weird, but I contacted the first of my prospective clans. It turns out you were seeing them.”

  I started. “Clan Aslada?”

  “Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”

  I waved her off. “Heavens, no. I’ve got my clan.”

  “Why didn’t you choose them? Is there anything I should know?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she was doing something wrong by investigating my background with them.

  “They’re impossibly rich, terribly kind, and sexy as hell,” I said. “They’ll do their best to sweep you off your feet.”

  Megan relaxed and grinned. “That good? Wow. Clan Seot must be gods to beat out a clan like that. Come on, be honest. What did you not enjoy about Clan Aslada?”

  I thought about it. I didn’t want to be critical of the three men who might have been my clanmates if not for the three Mr. Perfects I’d fallen for. “I’m too Plain Jane to be that wealthy. It was too extravagant for little ol’ me.”

  She shook her head. “That’s more you than them. Come on, they can’t be perfect.”

  “Nobody is,” I agreed. “If there was one thing that got to me, it was how they made decisions on my behalf. Some things I wanted to be consulted on, such as the clothes I would wear or the way I would look when we went out. It’s not that they didn’t care how I felt. They just had a tendency to choose for me.”

  “Oh.” Megan sat and considered. “I don’t mind that much. The more I interact with these clans, the more I appreciate men who want to take care of me. I guess it sounds weird to someone as independent as you, who goes around beating up Tragooms and fighting off everything that stands in your way.”

  I snorted to hear her describe me with such attributes. “Hey, if we all wanted the same thing, life would be boring as hell. It would be outstanding if you were a perfect match for Clan Aslada. They’d be getting a wonderful Matara, and you’d be relaxing in the lap of luxury.”

  Megan laughed. “I could get used to that. Thanks, Shalia.”

  “Best of luck to you and them. You’ll be lucky to have each other, if it works out.”

  I hope it does work for them. I think the world of Clan Aslada, and Megan is terrific.

  I’d finished filling and locking up my bins when Cifa commed to say he was setting up the big dinner tomorrow night. That was assuming the people I wanted there could join us. I commed Elwa and Joelle and got the go-ahead from them. Anrel woke as I finished talking to my sort-of moms, so I took care of her needs. Then I tracked down Candy and Katrina and verified their availability.

  “It’s a go,” I told Cifa a few minutes later.

  “Terrific,” he said. “Want to meet me in the market for lunch? I’m considering Abbub’s. If you’re fond of their food, we can have them cater the dinner. They have a terrific menu to choose from. Then we can shop around for anything else we need.”

  It sounded perfect to me. It made the most sense to walk from the complex to the market to meet up with him. I notified the pilot of my rental shuttle that I was done with him for the day. Anrel and I set out under a sunlit sky to connect with Cifa.

  The walk was relaxing, and I had an adult companion join me. Matara Hina, a Kalquorian whom I’ve run across on occasion, was also heading to the market. As I wandered past, she was leaving her lovely upside-down-bowl-shaped home. I stopped to let her catch up when she hailed me.

  Hina is beautiful, as magnificent as an Amazon warrior from Earth legend. She’s always dressed to the nines, wearing gowns with an effortlessness I can’t hope to achieve. Her blue-black hair was braided down her back, reaching to her butt. Yet she wore a sadness that I can’t imagine. The daughter she’d borne had been affected by the genetic damage that is the reason Kalquorian men work so hard to attract Earther mates. Hina’s baby girl did not survive long past the birth. Even with our casual acquaintanceship, I can tell it had affected her greatly.

  “Hello, Shalia.” Hina’s gaze lingered as always on Anrel. “You look cheerful.”

  “Hi, Hina. Yes, I’m in a good mood. I joined a clan yesterday.”

  “Congratulations! Who are the lucky men? Maybe I’ve met them.” She fell into step with me, seeming to glide more than walk.

  “Clan Seot. Are you acquainted? My Imdiko is an owner of the Cifiler line of ocean cruise ships.”

  “Oh, I love those cruises. I don’t know the owners, and I’m afraid your clan name isn’t familiar to me, but I have taken three voyages on your Imdiko’s line. I have to say, it’s better with each trip.”

  I grinned at her. “You’ll have to try the newest ship. It’s small and intimate and goes to ports no other cruise line can access. We’re starting a big promotion for it soon.”

  We chatted, as friendly as could be. I don’t believe that I’ve ever spoken to Hina so much. Usually, her attention is all for Anrel. Kiddo was friendly too. We were halfway to the market when Anrel held her chubby arms out to Hina.

  “Oh, how sweet.” Wistful pain crossed her features.

  “Do you want to hold her?” I offered, not sure if it would be more agony than pleasure for Hina.

  Hina was delighted, however. She cuddled and hugged and adored Anrel, who was more than happy to have the attention.

  We got to the first market square. Cifa was waiting for Anrel and me. It was with obvious reluctance that Hina handed the baby off to her daddy after I made introductions. We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Hina went on her way.

  “Poor thing,” I sighed when she was out of earshot. “Her daughter died from the DNA damage.”

  Cifa took my arm while holding Anrel in the crook of his elbow. “It’s nice of you to let her snuggle Anrel. She looked as if she enjoyed it.”

  “I wish there was something that could be done for women like her.” The subject was starting to bring me down, so I changed topics. “Okay, where is this fantastic food you’re so excited about?”

  It was a glorious afternoon from there on, with us planning not just our big dinner, but starting to plan our ceremony as well. Best of all, I didn’t have a single moment of worrying about abandonment. I didn’t act akin to an ass even once. Hina’s pain made me grateful for what I have, reminding me to appreciate my wonderful fortune.

  January 3

  Therapy was interesting. Dr. Cafir seems a capable psychologist. She welcomed us with warmth. It was as if she were meeting with new friends rather than a gal with abandonment issues and her poor, suffering clanmates. Anrel delighted her to no end.

  Today was mostly a getting-to-know-you appointment. First, Cafir got the lowdown on the main problem – me – then took down some history on all of us. I was glad to not be the total focus of her questioning. Though she wanted to hear about my past relationships with family and others, she also delved into how Seot, Cifa, and Larten had coped with their past bonds, how they had navigated becoming clanmates, and the ways they solved problems with each other.

  I was amazed to find out Cifa had suffered a rather bumpy start when he’d joined with Seot and Larten. They’d been in love, but there had been issues to overcome.

  “Cifa was used to ordering his younger siblings around,” Seot remembered with a chuckle. “Especially Erom. Cifa’s brother has a tendency for mischief, so my poor Imdiko felt he had to keep a constant eye out and rein him in before trouble could start. He transferred that older brother-type of behavior to his relationship with Larten and me. That didn’t work out so well.”

  Cifa and Larten laughed at the memory. “I don’t think I’ve yelled at my trainees half as much as Cifa yelled at us that first year,” Larten said.

  “Neither of you would put up with it,” Cifa snickered. “Ancestors, it’s a miracle we didn’t strangle each other.”

  I looked at them, stupefied. They always clicked perfectly. I couldn’t imagine them otherwise.

  Cafir noticed. “There are growing pains in any newly-formed relationship, Shalia. It’s hard to live with people one isn’t used to. Harder t
o adapt to the compromises that help relationships function as they should, no matter how deeply you love each other.”

  Seot winced with a good-natured smile. “I forgot the many bumps in the road that occurred for us back then. It’s good we’re involved in the initial stages of therapy, though Shalia came to you for her own problems.”

  “I’m glad you think so, Dramok. I want to see Shalia once a week to start. It would do your entire clan good if you attend sessions once a month. How do you feel about it?”

  “For my clan and Matara, I’m agreeable to whatever needs to be done.”

  Cifa and Larten nodded their agreement. My heart filled to know they put that much importance on our union. I’m not sure I deserve those three, but I’m going to do my best to keep them from regretting clanning me.

  “Another weekly assignment I want to give you is to establish a date night or fun day for the adults only, without Anrel.” Cafir smiled at the baby. “She’s rightly the focus for her parents, but you need to concentrate on each other on a regular basis. Do what you must to have the precious alone time your relationship requires.”

  “Good thing there are plenty of people willing to keep her for me,” I chuckled.

  “Excellent. I’m glad to hear there will be no problems.” Cafir tapped on her handheld. “Same day and hour, a week from today, Shalia?”

  I’m assuming the next appointment is where the hard work begins. I’d better load up on the fun before I have to unwrap the mystery of me.

  January 4

  The dinner party celebrating our clanship was a huge success. Cifa’s parents were able to come, along with his siblings and their clans. Two of Seot’s parents, who with the rest of their clan live on the other side of Kalquor, couldn’t break away from their jobs on such short notice. Because of that, none of them came, though they apologized profusely and swore to make it up to us. Larten’s parents live off-world on the moon Lobam. They also couldn’t get away.

  Though I’m eager to meet Seot and Larten’s parents, it was nice to concentrate on a single set of in-laws. What a group my Imdiko’s family is when they gather. I’m petty enough to have enjoyed Cifa’s parent clan jumping on his brother’s case whenever Erom started acting like himself.

  I adore Erom. I really do. He’s a fantastic person and fun to have around, but his penchant for mischief and smartass remarks can be excessive. It doesn’t help that his clan has a tendency to egg him on, especially his Imdiko Habo. They’re a wild bunch. I got a kick out of how his mother, Matara Migeg, shuts him up with a glare.

  Cifa’s mom is an imposing specimen. She might be over a hundred years old, but she’s built like a bull. Talk about a solid wall of Kalquorian. Migeg must be one and a half times the weight of Cifa’s Imdiko father Pidoxt. She reminds me of an old-fashioned grand dame, the kind that rules whatever room she’s in simply by sheer force of her personality and size. I felt pixie-ish next to her.

  I have the notion Cifa is her favorite child, or at least she doesn’t judge him as quickly as the others. Her eyes shine when she looks at him, and she takes exception when any of his fathers question anything he does. “Oh, Cifa understands what he’s about. Let him be,” she said more than once. That attitude seemed to carry over to me. Since Cifa can do no wrong as far as Migeg is concerned, I had to be perfect for him. Apparently, he wouldn’t have chosen anyone less than amazing. I wonder how bad it’s going to be when I do make a mistake and she finds out about it. Yikes!

  As usual, Anrel was everyone’s favorite person. Migeg lost all her bullish characteristics the instant she held the baby to her enormous bosom. “Oh, beautiful baby!” she gushed. “Let your grandmother give you a kiss. And another. Oh, this sweet face needs to be covered with kisses!”

  Anrel, whose eyes had been wide when she first saw the woman mountain bearing down on her, laughed as she was adored. Migeg couldn’t have been more besotted with the newest family member.

  “It’s been so long since I held a baby. So precious! So perfect! Shalia, I insist you give me a dozen more grandchildren every bit as remarkable.” Migeg turned tough to tell Ila and Erom, “It wouldn’t hurt you two to start your families either. Ila, you’ve been clanned for five years. Erom, it’s been three for you. What are you waiting for?” She returned to gushing over Anrel, her eyes shining with love and delight.

  Cifa’s Dramok father Trebix is the male version of Migeg, with a lot less chest. He’s a ton of bluster and orders, with plenty of heart behind it. His laugh fills a room. He enjoys his kloq almost as well as his food. I’ve never seen anyone put away so much.

  Their Nobek Dohun is typical of his breed…brooding, dangerous, quiet. His gaze, whomever it falls upon, seems to size people up and find them wanting. He looks mean as hell, but when I locked gazes with him, he dipped a nod and gave me a smile. His version of a smile, at any rate. It seemed as if it hurt him to appear pleasant, more like he was grimacing.

  I get the idea it’s how his face is naturally. When we spoke, he was courteous and even warm. He was fascinated that I’m committed to physical training. He praised me for doing so. “You never know what trouble can come your way,” he said in his low, deep voice. “A person must be ready to fight, no matter how secure their circumstances may seem.” He and I are in agreement on that account.

  Cifa’s Imdiko father Pidoxt has to be the source of Erom’s penchant for trouble. He’s not as obnoxious as Erom, thank goodness, but he does have a wicked sense of sarcasm and a devious grin.

  Case in point: during dinner, Trebix demanded of the catering attendant how his cup had become empty. “Did I not say to keep it full?” he bellowed.

  Pidoxt leaned back with a smirk and told the attendant, “Oh, just bring him a kestarsh trough that he can wallow in. Who gives a cup to an animal?” Instead of anger, Trebix responded with a window-shaking laugh. As did we all.

  It was great to see Elwa and Migeg get along. Elwa, it turns out, has a penchant for salacious gossip, a trait she indulged in when it turned out she and Migeg knew some of the same clans. It was amusing to hear stories of high-ranking Kalquorians not behaving their best.

  Katrina, with her unapologetic wit and foul mouth, was a hit with the pair. Fortunately, my friend waited until Anrel was in bed before she got all the way wound up. Once young, tender ears were out of hearing, Katrina shared some outrageous stories from our trip on the Pussy ‘Porter, ensuring the Kalquorian women’s devotion. Migeg and Elwa hung on Katrina’s every word with breathless delight. Joelle laughed until her face turned as red as her hair. Candy kept hiding her face in her hands. I’m not sure if she was embarrassed by Katrina’s wild tales or overcome with hilarity.

  My clanship was toasted a million times. We must have gone through oceans of kloq, bohut, and leshella. No one was steady on their feet by the end of dinner. Thank goodness Cifa had arranged for shuttle pilot service.

  On their way out, Katrina and Candy asked me about my visit to the therapist. As I’d suspected they might, they instantly offered to keep Anrel for my date nights. “We’ll make it overnight stays,” Katrina said. “Because we’re aware how a date night should end…with someone hogtied in a compromising position.”

  Given how my night turned out after everyone left, Katrina might be a prophet.

  As soon as the door closed behind the last departing guest, Seot swept me up in his arms. Unmindful of the catering staff moving at top speed to clear our dinner, he carried me off to the sleeping room. He already had my clothes flying off once Cifa and Larten caught up to us.

  “Help!” I called unconvincingly to the other half of our clan.

  “Too late. You’re already naked. I’ll be glad to do the rest.” Larten shoved Seot aside and tossed me onto the sleeping mat. Before he could jump on me, Seot grabbed him. They wrestled across the floor.

  Cifa snickered and stepped past the struggling pair. He climbed on top of me and managed to sneak a kiss before the others noticed. They yanked him off and wrestled with him too.<
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  I watched the three nutjobs, laughing at them as each man would try to slip away to ravish me, only to be dragged back by the others. “Me first!” was the battle cry.

  They went at it for so long, I began to think it would be a case of ‘me never’. I was tipsy enough to come up with my own ridiculous response to the whole thing. I went to the cache of sex toys, got my favorite vibrator, slipped into bed, and pleasured myself.

  That got their attention. They forgot about fighting each other and came at me like a pack of wolves. Much better.

  “Oh please, don’t stop wrestling each other on my account,” I jibed as the vibe was taken from me. “I’ve got things covered here.”

  “We take care of our Matara,” Larten snarled. “Your pleasure is our duty.”