Light of Kaska (14 page)

Sukeza didn’t move for a moment, uncertainty and awe paralyzing her while she stared at his long, delicious form.
All mine?

He turned his head, his eyes heavy-lidded and mesmerizing. “Come pet me,” he said in a low, inviting rumble.

A wave of desire took her breath away, a driving hunger that made her want to pounce on top of him and devour him. But her inherent reserve restrained her, admonishing her not to be greedy.

She started with his hand.

Turning it palm up, she stared in fascination at the long fingers and wide palm with its mysterious calluses—how had he gotten those? It was a strong hand, a very male hand, so remarkably different from hers. She watched her small, pale fingers slide over his and heard him take a breath, his fingers flexing against her touch. She traced the calluses and the lines on his palm, absorbed by the texture difference between his skin and her own. With slow deliberation, she winnowed her fingers between his in a long stroke that ended when he clamped his hand around hers.

“That’s all I can take,” he growled, surging up and tumbling her back against the bed. He caught her wrists, settling over her and overwhelming her with his big body.

“B-but,” she stammered, staring at the predatory glint in his eyes while a shiver worked its way across her skin. “I didn’t get to touch—”

“You touched enough,” he said in a rough voice, his teeth nipping at her chin.

“Chase,” she protested, tugging futilely at his hold. “It was just your hand. That couldn’t possibly—”

His growl cut her off and he shifted until his hips settled between her thighs, letting her feel just what was possible. She gasped as he rocked his erection against her and pleasure struck like lightening.

“Kessu,
I love that look, too,” he said between clenched teeth, staring down at her with dark eyes hot and wild. “Say my name again.” He rocked his hips once more.

“Chase,” she moaned, and he made a sound in his throat that was both triumph and need, before lowering his mouth to hers.

His hands were rough and impatient with their clothes, but once he had them naked, he slowed down to an erotic, torturous pace that turned her inside out. She lost all sense of time and place, of thought and reason, as he pushed her to higher and higher peaks of pleasure. It could have been hours or days, but when it was over, it seemed to end too soon.

When she remembered herself, remembered their situation and their future, she felt a debilitating wave of melancholy wash over her. But at least she didn’t cry. She was too exhausted. Barely aware of the lights dimming and the covers being drawn over them, she sighed with languid pleasure when Chase tucked her into the curve of his body, his arms around her. Snuggling against him, she relaxed and let slumber pull her down into its depths.

Chapter 7

There was no warning. Stryker was asleep when he heard the door opening. The
locked
door. His well-honed instincts pulled him awake, rolling him from the bed, but it was already too late.

“Don’t move,” a curt voice commanded.

He froze, staring at the figures flooding into the room, at the weapons they pointed at him. Dark gray uniforms, high collars with clasped hands in sliver over the left breast, peeking out from under concealing jackets. Arrogant, impersonal stares and laser guides marking his body.
The Collectors.
Stryker’s heart thudded and his ears buzzed with dread and despair. Who’d given him up, told the Collectors he was here? Not that it mattered now…

Keza came awake more slowly. “What—?” she asked in a muzzy voice.

“Don’t move,” the curt command came again and now there were laser guides on her body as well.

Stryker felt himself clench with hideous, possessive, useless rage.

Keza gave a muffled shriek, scrambling to sit with her back against the wall, the covers pulled up to her chin. “Who are you?” she cried. No one answered but they didn’t have to. It was obvious.

“Chase Stryker, we are here to re-obtain you and return you to your holding facility. Lie face down on the floor with your hands behind your back.”

“Oh, no,” Keza moaned.

“Ma’am, we require you to do the same.”

“She’s not part of this,” Stryker said in a hoarse voice.

“She was found with a fugitive. We will discover the extent of her involvement when we have you both in confinement.”

Panic ran down his muscles like liquid fire. “I won’t resist. Just let her go.”

Their spokesperson gave him a measured stare. “You will agree to be banded now?”

Stryker clenched his jaw so tightly that pain shot through his skull. They were using her as leverage. They knew he would fight them tooth and nail when it came time to put the band back on him. But the thought of his Keza, innocent and vulnerable, in their cold, callous hands…unbearable. “If you let her go.”

“No, Chase!” Keza’s voice shook, but he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

“Agreed,” the Collector said without infliction, lowering his weaponed arm and reaching into his uniform. When he drew back his hand, he was holding a thin, silver band.

Stryker stared at it, unable to tear his eyes away from approaching doom. It seemed inevitable now, like the implosion of a star, a calamity that seemed so distant until it ruptured space and time and sucked everything into its destruction. The man advanced and the rest of the group shifted with him, making certain they kept Stryker in their weapons lock. For an instant, he considered fighting anyway, throwing himself into a frenzy of attack. Hopeless as it was, he’d do it if he was alone. But if he fought they’d have no reason to leave Keza be. They would take him down, band him, and take Keza, too.

The Collector stopped in front of him and lifted his hands. Stryker watched the band rise toward him and couldn’t keep his body from jerking back in horrified revulsion. The man paused, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Panting, Stryker turned his head to find Keza, his body going lava hot and ice cold in waves.

She had both hands over her mouth, staring at him with wide eyes, tears running unheeded down her face and slim body shaking. She shook her head violently and he heard her whispering, “No, no, no,” behind her hands.

“Do it,” he snarled without taking his eyes from her, clenching his hands into fists and commanding his body to stillness. He looked into drowning amber as the Collector lifted the band, settling it against his forehead and pressing it to his temples. “Keza,” he said before white-hot pain struck him blind, tumbling him into the howling blackness that was his prison.

Keza.
He said her name and then she watched his face contort with pain, before all animation drained from it. She watched as his eyes lost focus, lost life, and his face went slack. Chase Stryker disappeared. In his place was a blank emptiness that horrified her to her soul.

“Oh, Goddess, take it off!” she cried without considering her words, scrambling toward him, oblivious of her own nakedness. Someone caught her arm, restraining her. She sobbed, “Take it off. You’ll kill him.”

“He is in no danger. Compose yourself, please.”

“You don’t understand,” she whispered, hunting and hunting his face for some sign, some spark of life. “He’s wild. You’ll kill him.”

They ignored her, their faces cold and composed as they moved in an orderly fashion toward the door. The man holding her spoke to Stryker. “Convict, turn and walk to the exit.”

Stryker turned and walked to the door, his movements stilted, as if his powerful body was a strange machine without his soul to animate it.

Sukeza felt herself breaking into a million pieces. “Please,” she sobbed.

The Collector released her arm and moved away without responding.

“You can’t do this,” she whispered. But it was done. They marched him, naked and defenseless, from the room.

He didn’t look back.

Sukeza tried to follow them but when she got to the hall, the trailing Collector paused, giving her a warning look. “If you persist, we will obtain you as well for questioning.” The woman’s voice was emotionless, factual.

Sukeza stayed where she was, watching until they were out of sight. Then she collapsed, blinded and wracked with sobs. She felt sick, so sick… With a lurch, she bolted to her feet and dashed to the lav to vomit. When she was done, she curled up on the cool floor and tried to think. What was she going to do?

Leaving him to his fate was not an option. It would kill her by slow degrees, just as it was killing him. Wild things weren’t meant to be caged. She didn’t care that he was serving his sentence for crimes he’d committed. The method they used wasn’t punishment for him—it was a death sentence. Maybe it was the same for all the subjects they banded. How could anyone stand it? She’d never considered this before, never questioned—Universal Legislature said it was humane imprisonment and she’d taken their word for it. Now that she’d seen first hand what the bands could do, she was appalled. Stryker could not survive like that, so she was going to free him. Somehow. But she couldn’t do it alone.

Pushing shakily to her feet, Sukeza moved into the bedroom to find her discarded clothes, tears spilling down her cheeks again when she remembered how he’d removed them. With impatient fingers, she wiped them away and headed for the door.

Time to see Bella.

Belladonna’s Delight
thronged with patrons. They crowded the front entrance and lined up into the vendor area, waiting their turn to enter. Sukeza felt a moment of despair until she remembered the side entrance. Chewing on her lower lip, she eased through the press of people and moved toward it. The barrier was down but a guard stood blocking the doorway, a hulking brute who watched her approach with cold, forbidding eyes.

“I need to see Bella,” she told him.

“You’n everybody else, little sister. You got an appointment?” His eyebrows lifted while he looked her up and down. Yesterday, Sukeza might have been embarrassed by the implication that she was a client of Bella’s, but today she didn’t have the time.

“No, but it’s an emergency. Please, could you tell her I’m here? It’s about Stryker.”

He gave her a bored look, as if he fielded these kinds of requests all the time. He probably did. But with an enormous sigh that ruffled her hair, he turned his head, putting a finger to his ear. “Yeah, I got somebody here who wants to see the boss. She says it’s about Stryker.” His jaded expression changed while he listened to the reply. When he turned back to Sukeza, his face was warmer and held a hint of respect. “Escort’ll be here in a sec.”

“I know the way. Could you just let me in?” she tried, chaffing at the delay.

He shook his big head slowly. “You’ll need an escort. Place is wild today and I can’t leave my post.”

Remembering her last venture in the club, she subsided with a reluctant nod and waited. To her relief, it didn’t take long. The door opened to reveal yet another big beast of a man, but he was courteous with her, waving her over the threshold and taking her elbow to lead her through the throng. The place was indeed wild and Sukeza found herself gaping more than once at some new visual exhibition. But no one bothered her this time and her escort pushed his way through the tight-packed horde with ease.

They reached the bottom of the steps leading to Bella’s private area faster than she expected. She gave the big man a grateful smile. He nodded gravely but didn’t join her when she mounted the stairs. Bella’s door wasn’t locked. When she entered, the sitting room was empty. Sukeza fidgeted for a moment before deciding that the situation called for more direct measures. She headed for the bedroom.

The scene within stopped her in her tracks. Bella was masked, her entire lithe body covered in some body-hugging black outfit except for a couple of distinct areas. A thin rod ran between her nipples this time, and there appeared to be fine links of chain dangling from the exposed place between her thighs. She held a many-tongued whip and cracked it lazily across her victim. The man was hooded, suspended upside down between two posts, completely naked except for the hood and the straps holding his ankles and wrists to the posts. Red strips criss-crossed his skin and he moaned piteously as he thrashed. But he was violently aroused.

“Uh,” was all Sukeza could manage in the first moment of shock.

“Sukeza bet Marish,” Bella purred, prowling toward her, whip twitching at her side. “Care to join us?”

Okay, Bella still made her nervous, the urge to bolt like a bunny strumming across her muscles. But she didn’t have time for that either. With an impatient shake of her head, she said, “They’ve got Stryker.”

The woman froze, stiffening. Then she tossed the whip on the bed and pushed Sukeza out the door. “Be right back, lover,” she called over her shoulder, removing the mask when they were alone in the sitting room. Her light brown eyes fixed on Sukeza with fierce demand. “Tell me.”

Sukeza told her. It didn’t take long, but then the actual incident had been stunningly, brutally quick. She felt tears rise again and took a shaky breath, pressing fingers hard against her mouth.

For a moment, Bella did nothing but stare at her with wide eyes. “He…let them band him? For you?”

“They were going to take me, too,” Sukeza tried to explain, voice thick. Guilt clawed at her, tearing her flesh from the inside out. “He bargained with them. Goddess, Bella, you should have seen his face—!” Sukeza put her hands over her eyes, unable to stop the soft keen of pain and sorrow in her throat.

Bella moved abruptly away and Sukeza dropped her hands to watch as the woman checked a digital display. “Bastards snuck in. This whole place would be in an uproar if anyone knew the Collectors were here.”

“I need your help, Bella. We have to get him away from them.”

For the first time, she saw real shock on the woman’s face. “Are you insane? No one takes on the Collectors! We’ll be lucky if Chase is the only one they drag out of here.”

“I have to free him, Bella,” she said, stiffening her spine against the resistance she saw on the other woman’s beautiful face. “I have to try, with or without you.”

Bella snorted, turning to pace like a lioness in a tight circle. “Gods, I thought you were coming here to hide. I love Chase. He’s been a good friend. But I can’t put myself and everyone here at risk for him. I just can’t. He wouldn’t ask it of us.”