Light of Kaska (20 page)

“Ask Keza,” the young woman said, moving forward to set the child down against the clear front.

The boy grunted and shuffled over to one wall. Stryker couldn’t see what he was doing, but a moment later a soft ping sounded all around them. A breathless hush fell over the children, their little bodies straining forward as if they would dive into the water at any moment. Then a dark shape appeared, moving with effortless speed through the water until it was right up against the clear barrier. The selkie paused, placing what looked to Stryker like webbed hands against the glass. It stared in at the children, its expressive eyes and round muzzle giving the impression of a smile.

With the creature’s appearance, light began to fill the basin of the cavern from some hidden source. The streams of sunlight continued to be the brightest spot in the underwater grotto like a spotlight on a stage, but now they could clearly see the rest of the cavern’s bowl.

The children shrieked with delight, fighting with one another to place their hands against the barrier opposite the selkie’s, but Stryker’s attention was captured by the wonderland the light revealed. Some kind of green plant covered the floor of the cavern, waving sedately in the currents, but he barely noticed, his eyes following the curves and whorls of the fantastic, coral encrusted structures that rose from the greenery.

“What is it?”

Liss answered, “Selkie playground. First of its kind. Keza thought of it when she was young and several scientific groups jumped on the idea. They were dying to study Keza’s family group, because they’d never seen selkies return so often to one place or be so friendly with humans. They built this room, called it the observatory, and tried to build the playground to her specs, but they freaked the selkies out so bad that they disappeared for months. Keza actually threw the whole bunch of scientists out and didn’t let them come back until her babies were happy again.” Liss snickered softly. “I suppose now that she’s back, they’ll want to set up shop again.”

Stryker heard what she said and some part of him took it in, but the rest of him was focused on the blue and black figure that appeared to one side of the clear barrier. Keza didn’t look inside at the humans. She slid through the water like she’d been born in it, her movements sinuous and languid, bubbles streaming from her mouth and nose. But the selkies that darted around her made her look like a slow, graceless lump by comparison. She caught one along its back ridge as it passed and the creature pulled her through a twisting structure like a vine shaped into a warped tube. Keza let go of the animal and grabbed a handhold as she exited the structure, spinning in slow motion through the water to sit on top of it. Then she lifted her hands above her head and another selkie barreled toward her in a burst of speed, grabbing her wrists and taking off with her through the lacy structures. The other selkies immediately gave chase as if the first animal had taken their favorite toy.

The children clapped and laughed, dancing along the barrier in an exuberant mass. Liss chuckled, sending Stryker a grin over her shoulder from where she leaned against the glass. She did a double take on his face and came to join him.

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the underwater scene. “What are they?” he asked to deflect her.

“Keza didn’t tell you about selkies? That’s weird. It used to be hard to shut her up about them.” She turned to watch while her sister slipped away from her captor and ducked into something that looked like a patchwork flower. The selkie twisted to follow, but she pulled herself out the bottom of the flower and along its sides, keeping the structure between her and her selkie stalker. The kids shouted encouragement for both Keza and the beast.

“Our history says there used to be a ton of them when we first settled here, but we hunted them for their pelts until we almost wiped them out. They usually stay away from humans, but Keza made friends with them when she was little. This family group has been coming here for over twenty years. The original pair died a while back, but their kids had lots of kids and they teach each other about this place. Oh, the babies are so Goddess-blessed
cute!
I think that female on the right is going to drop soon, so you might get to see them.”

Stryker glanced at the animal in question and saw that the creature was thicker through the midsection and moved slower than the others. Their bodies were long and sleek likes an otter’s, with similar heads, though they were almost human-sized and their skin had very fine, short hair ranging from pale gray to almost black. Their tails seemed prehensile like a monkeys and had opposable digits on all four limbs, though their front ones seemed more delicate, like hands. They torpedoed through the water as if shot from a weapon, their bodies moving with such sinuous grace and speed that they seemed almost boneless.

They were interesting but they couldn’t hold his attention for long. Not with Keza to watch.

He should be doing what he’d told her he would and walk away. His brain argued that was the most logical course of action—he didn’t belong here in this strange place with these laughing children any more than Keza had belonged in his world. But his guts wouldn’t let him move, twisting with a need that defied explanation. The need was so strong it was an ache, not only in his groin, but in his throat, in his chest, and in an alien place deep inside him.

Her mate?
She hadn’t confirmed her mother’s words and he’d been too angry to ask. Or maybe he’d been too wary of the answer. Just the idea of planting a child inside her sent whorls of hot lust and icy panic through him, giving him a wrenching sense of vertigo. Gingerly, he reached out and braced a hand on the cool stone wall beside him, clinging to the sight of Keza’s swimming form as if she could steady his spinning world.

“You’re still not used to the idea,” Liss said softly at his side, her eyes much too knowing. “Keza gave us the short version of how you got here. You must be totally sarked about it. But look on the bright side. Keza’s just your first choice, not your only one. You’ll have hundreds of
naevas
begging for just one night with you.”

“What’s a
naevas?”
he asked through numb lips, watching with a sinking sensation like despair when the selkies pulled Keza through the beams of sunlight and out of the grotto.

The children shrieked with joy—or maybe it was rage, who was he to judge?—and raced by him like a flock of birds, of one mind as they pounded up the stairs.

Liss caught the trailing toddler, ignoring the little girl’s wail when she swung her to her hip. The young woman smiled at Stryker. “A
naeva
is a Kaskan woman who is at the peak of her fertility.
Naeva
means blessed daughter, or sacred charge, touched by the goddess. Are you coming?”

That trapped sensation gathered around him again, spiking his heart rate. “I’m supposed to screw every ripe wench who pounds on my door?”

Her smile faded from bright humor to a cynical twist. “You only have to make one baby. You pick who to make it with. After that, you don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to. But y’know, Chase, most guys would kill to be in your place.” She arched her brows and spun toward the stairs on a saucy heel with a toss of her unruly hair. “You should talk to my brother, Rogue. He’d change your outlook in a hurry.”

Stryker scowled at her slim back, the caged sensation not abating one bit. Then a new thought made him blink and frown, his feet moving after her without any conscious signals from his brain. “You’ve got a brother?”

“Sure do,” she tossed over her shoulder. “The Marish family has more boys than most of the other major houses put together. We’ve got a rep for good genes, so our boys
and
our girls are in high demand all over Kaska. And now that Keza’s back from her cycle, they’ll be lining up at her door.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Who’re
they?”
His tone was sharper than he’d intended, his voice in such a low growl that the little girl stopped blowing bubbles at him and hid her face in Liss’s hair.

Liss paused in the grotto, turning to face him with a sly smile. “Keza is First
Materi,
since she’s Mom’s oldest daughter. That means she’s next in line to be head of the Marish House. She finished a successful Guidance, so all she has to do now is prove that she’s goddess-touched—that she can have babies,” she clarified for him with all the patronizing arrogance of a teenager. “After that, Mom can step down anytime she wants and Keza will be the Marish Mater. Guys will be climbing through windows and knocking down walls just to be with her.”

After that little revelation, Liss gave him a smirk, spun on her golden heel, and sashayed out of sight. Stryker let her go, mainly because he was afraid of what he’d do if he caught up to her. He was pretty sure strangling was against the Kaskan rules. But it wasn’t really Liss he wanted to strangle. He should drag Keza out of the water and—no, putting his hands on her came under the heading of “Really Bad Ideas.” What he should do is head for the nearest exit. What he wanted to do—besides put his hands on Keza in ways that were probably illegal—was beat someone bloody. Preferably one of those guys Liss spoke about. And then lock all the doors, block all the windows, and reinforce the walls.

With a low, guttural snarl, he stalked toward the stairs leading to the house, running stiff fingers through his hair.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He took the stairs two at a time, trying to ignore the sensation that he was fleeing in a cowardly fashion. Yeah, he was pissed about what Liss said but for the wrong damned reasons. He should be angry that Keza hadn’t told him how valuable she was to her House and her homeworld. That little gem of information would have come in handy when dealing with Bella and the boys. On the other hand, if anybody else had known about it, that might have marked her as a target. She would have made a pretty hostage with an enticing ransom. Which was probably why she hadn’t told him—she didn’t trust him not to turn on her.

He grimaced when that thought twisted something inside him and the memory of her bruised wrist made a merciless reappearance.
Right. So why are you still here?
Asked a cynical voice in the back of his mind.

Stryker was saved from trying to find an answer by the sight of a large, sandy-haired man lounging at the top of the stairs. Instinct loosened Stryker’s muscles and he squared off against the opposition while shifting away from the open archway to the staircase. The big man seemed the picture of bored relaxation, his body slouched on a bench under a wide window, but Stryker could practically smell the badge on him and the lines of his muscular body spoke of a close acquaintance to many things physical and violent. The man’s eyes had the cool, sharp assessment of a born fighter while he looked Stryker over.

“Hey,” the man rumbled without twitching a muscle. “You must be Stryker. I’m Harle, Rolanade bet Marish’s mate. How ya doin’?”

“You my leash?” Stryker asked in return, not bothering to hide his hostility.

Harle looked him over again, face impassive, before he heaved a sigh and pushed to his feet. He stood at least a head taller than Stryker. “Shoulda known a guy like you would see the badge, even if I don’t wear it no more. Yeah, I’m what passes for security around here, but I’m not gonna dog you. Not unless you give me a reason,” he added with a glint of steel in his grey-blue eyes. “Truth is Nade sent me to round you up so she could feed you.” He shrugged his big shoulders with an almost sheepish expression before jerking a thumb behind him at the bench. “And the dragon left you some spares.”

Stryker flicked a glance around the man to see a pile of clothes resting on the bench. “Dragon?” he asked, studying Harle with keen distrust.

The big man didn’t seem to take offense. “Myelle flies around here like she’s got wings, she can breathe fire when she’s good and pissed, and don’t ever let her get her claws in you. The Dragon,” Harle finished in a stage whisper, his eyes taking on a humorous twinkle. “But don’t tell Nade I said that. She beats me when I call her mama names.”

“Beats you,” Stryker said in a flat voice, looking the man up and down once more. “Shit, this I gotta see.”

Harle’s grin changed his whole face, softening the edges of experience in his features and lighting his eyes. “Well then, throw on your spares and hitch up. Nade’s gonna beat me anyway for taking my sweet time about ropin’ you in.” He stepped out of Stryker’s way and gestured toward the pile of clothes. “May as well come watch the show.”

Stryker eased past, tuning his wary senses to the man while he inspected the clothes. He was relieved to see them—he wasn’t body conscious, so continuing to wear the thin sleeping pants wasn’t a problem, but he’d have a much easier time escaping and be less conspicuous if he was fully dressed. With shoes on. Without further ado, he stripped and redressed.

It wasn’t his usual style—the loose cloth of the shirt and pants would be distracting and rip too easily in a fight, the white shirt and buff-colored pants would stand out in the dark, and the soft-soled shoes weren’t durable enough for rough wear—but he’d take what he could get. Maybe he’d find something better later.

“Lead on,” he said to Harle when he was finished, taking in the man’s bland expression with a flare of wary hostility. He was in new, hazardous territory and having a badge for a guide wasn’t comforting. He felt a lot like a lamb trotting down the chute to disaster.

Harle kept pace with him while they moved down the corridor, his bland expression flickering as he shot Stryker the occasional veiled glance. Then with a muffled sigh he muttered, “Told Nade not to send me. Told her I’d just get your back up, you being a con and all. But everybody else disappeared when she asked for volunteers so I got stuck with it. Just so you know, as long as you don’t do nuthin’ out of hand we’re square.”

“Right,” Stryker said in a toneless voice.

Harle grimaced, running a hand through his sandy hair and spiking it in all directions. It gave him a harried look, but he still moved like a fighter. “I ain’t here to watch-dog you. Myelle didn’t give orders on you, but I got the impression she don’t like you much. I keep the peace here is all.”