Born of the Night (13 page)

Nykyrian held her against him, reveling in the feel of her arms holding him close. At the

moment, it would be so easy to forget his past, forget himself and stay with her. But he

couldn't. He knew that.

Her arms tightened around him and she leaned her head back. Unconsciously, he moved

to kiss her, then caught himself just before he complied. Her breath fell against his lips

and it took all of his self-control not to complete the one thing he wanted to do most.

"We have to get you home," he said, pulling away.

Heat stung Kiara's cheeks. Dejected, she nodded, trying to still her trembling limbs.

Why did she bother? Nykyrian wasn't interested in her in the least. If she had any dignity

at all, she would forget him and just go on with her life ignoring him as easily as he

ignored her.

"Fine," she said, her voice shaking from the tears she was trying hard not to shed.

Without a word, he led her down the hall, checking every few steps to make sure Pitala

wasn't lurking after them. Kiara was strangely numb as she followed, her thoughts

drifting over the entire party and assault.

Maybe she was just getting older. Maybe it was the fear of what had happened with

Pitala, happening during the party for all the promoters to see. That must be why she

didn't enjoy herself today, why Elfa's biting comments cut her more this afternoon than

they had last year when her understudy had said the same thing. Kiara couldn't ever

remember having a worse time in her life.

She studied Nykyrian's back as he led her out of the building. At least there was now one

less assassin after her. With any luck, Nemesis would be able to bully the rest of her

pursuers into leaving her alone, then she could return to her old life. Couldn't she?

Kiara swallowed the clump of tears. She was just tired. A little sleep and everything

would be fine. She'd be fine.

* * *

Sitting in her favorite chair, Kiara watched Nykyrian clean his blaster, her mind still

numb over Pitala's attack.

Death had become a morbid fascination for her as she watched Nykyrian break down the parts of his weapon, carefully wiping each piece with a clean, white cloth and a pungent-smelling solution.

Since Rachol left, Nykyrian hadn't spoken, and after two hours of silence, Kiara was

nearly
bended
.

He changed the battery pack, the sharp click raising the hair on the back of her neck.

"Why didn't you kill Pitala?" she asked, her quiet voice seeming like a shout after all the quietness.

He screwed another piece back into the blaster. "Would you rather I had?"

A chill stole up her arms. "No," she said, rubbing the chill away. "It just seems strange to me that you allowed him to get away twice."

Nykyrian sighed. "If I killed everyone who annoyed me, everyone I've ever met would be

haunting me for the crime of murder."

Kiara nodded in understanding. "No doubt I'd be at the top of your kill list."

He looked up at her, but said nothing, his face unreadable.

She watched him put the blaster back together, his hands running through the procedure

with practiced ease. It was a strange ballet, mesmerizing. "When you decided to quit the

League, how did you do it? Did you just tell them no thanks, or what?"

He grimaced, slamming a piece of the grip back into its position. "Why do you want to

know?"

She shrugged, an image of the promoters running through her mind and how they'd react

if she told them to go roast their parts like she'd wanted to many times in the past.

"Curiosity. You still owe me four answers."

"Three," he corrected, before blowing down the barrel of his blaster.

Kiara gave him a sad smile. "Okay, three. So how did you leave?"

He set the blaster down on the table between them. He leaned back on her couch and

appeared to stare straight at her. "I walked out of the assignment chambers one afternoon and never went back."

She frowned. For some reason, she hadn't imagined it would be that easy to leave the

League. "Why?"

"They wanted me to kill a friend."

Shock rippled through her and she repeated her earlier question, "Why?"

He swallowed and looked away. "A false charge of treason had been leveled against him,

and his government wanted him executed."

Kiara bit her lip, considering his words. "How do you know he was innocent? If a court

found him guilty— "

"No court was involved," Nykyrian interrupted her. "For a large enough fee, the League will convict and execute anyone."

Her throat tightened in fear. "So the League doesn't really protect anyone."

"Only the fat politicians who run it."

Her stomach knotted at the thought. "Why doesn't someone stop them?"

Nykyrian shrugged like he found the whole matter boring. "Who knows?"

In a daze at her newfound knowledge, Kiara got out of her chair and headed to her room.

She paused at the hallway, looking back to where Nykyrian sat on her couch.

"Nykyrian?"

Kiara waited until he faced her. "When you left the League, did it feel good?"

He looked away from her and for a moment, she thought he'd just ignore her. "It felt

great."

She nodded, her heart hanging heavy with just one more thing she needed to ask. Finally,

she found the courage she needed to bring it up. "Do you ever think of dying?"

He rubbed his hand across his jaw. "Do you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I never did until a little while ago." Her tears poured down her cheeks. "I'm so afraid of it!" she sobbed.

Covering her trembling lips with her hand, she ran down the hallway to the safety of her

room. Kiara threw herself across the bed, her sobs wracking her body. She didn't want to

die, not now, not ever. There was so much more she wanted to do, to experience.

Suddenly, she found Nykyrian's arms around her, pulling her into his lap. He sat on the

edge of her bed, holding her against him like she was a small child who had broken its

favorite toy. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sobbed out her grief.

Nykyrian remained silent, comforting her, holding her, brushing her hair from her cheek, rocking her gently in his arms. Never had Kiara felt so protected. She didn't know how

long she cried, but when she finally pulled away, the silk of his shirt clung to his chest

where her tears had fallen.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sniff, wiping the back of her hand over her cheeks.

He moved her hand and wiped the moisture away for her. "Feeling better?" he asked in a gruff voice. Kiara nodded. "This isn't like me," she whispered, reveling in the feel of his warm, strong hands moving over her icy cheeks.

"It's understandable. You're not used to people holding blasters to your head."

She swallowed her tears, wishing once more she could see his face, read his thoughts.

"Are you?"

He took a deep breath, his hand tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's happened

more than twice." Kiara stared at him. In so many ways he was a complete stranger, yet

they sat now like old lovers. She burned for him, ached to kiss his lips, but knew if she

tried, he would push her away again and end this peaceful moment. And she desperately

didn't want it to end. "Aren't you afraid of dying?" she asked, stifling the next wave of tears that threatened to fall. "That one day, you won't escape when someone puts a blaster to your head?"

His arms tensed around her. For a moment, she feared he would get up and leave. When

his answer came, it wasn't what she expected. "The only thing I fear is growing old."

"What's wrong with growing old?" she asked, aching to touch his cheek.

"Nothing," he said, his voice hoarse. "Unless you do it alone."

Her heart wrenched, then to her utmost disappointment, he stood. He reached down and

fingered her cheek like he was touching precious china. "No one's going to harm you. On

my life, I'll keep you safe," he said, then was gone.

Kiara's heart pounded at the audible sincerity behind his words. Her cheek burned in the

memory of his fingers. There was so much more she wanted to say to him, to ask him,

but she didn't know how.

He was so contradictory. In one minute he pulled away and snapped if she dared to even

touch his hand, then the next he held her like a treasured love and comforted her tears.

Kiara drew a trembling breath, wishing for the nerve it would take to strip her clothes

from her body and go out to the main room where Nykyrian slept. Shera had done that to

gain her last lover and had told Kiara it was a never-fail ploy to be used when she really

wanted someone. But Kiara couldn't do that, she was a coward.

Sighing, she leaned back on her bed, imagining what it would be like to have Nykyrian

by her side, making love to her, soothing her fears all night long.

He was still on her mind when she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

When Kiara awoke, Nykyrian was gone. She had rushed from her bed to see him before

he left, but she was too late. Hauk sat on her couch, munching what was left of her

friggles.

Giving him a shy, disappointed smile, she went to dress. Kiara took her time, wishing she

had stayed in bed and slept through the hulking Andarion's guardianship of her. She held

no desire to spend the day under his glares and threats.

When she returned to the main room, Hauk had a plate of muffins waiting for her. She

lifted a questioning brow, shocked by the gesture.

"They're not as good as Nykyrian's, but they won't kill you either," he said gruffly as if being friendly with her embarrassed him.

"I thought you hated me?" she asked, retrieving a muffin.

He shrugged and flipped stations on her viewer. "I hate over-privileged people in general.

You just happen to fall into that category."

She swallowed her bite of muffin. "Nykyrian didn't strike me as being exactly poor. As

the son of a wealthy, respected commander I would think he falls into your category as

well."

A harrumph was all that answered her.

After a moment, he snarled. "I don't suppose you have a better way of occupying our

time? There's nothing on that's even good enough to rot my brain with."

Kiara laughed, understanding his mood all too well. "Other than eat friggles and humans,

what do you like to do?"

Hauk stood and towered over her. "Anything beats talking."

She sighed at the underlying hostility in his words and indicated the closet in the hallway

with her thumb. "I have some games."

Without a word, he moved to the closet and began rummaging through her things. He

emerged with a wide smile, his fangs flashing. "Tareba!" he exclaimed, pulling out the strategy game. "Would you mind playing?"

Kiara smiled in disbelief at his exuberance. "Of course not," she said.

He was like a child with a new toy as he pulled out the pieces and set up the board.

A smile curled her lips at his enthusiasm. "Where'd Nykyrian go?" she asked while she watched him.

He looked up from the box with a stern frown. "Did you ask him?"

"Didn't have time."

The frown lessened. "He went to get information about the people after you."

She licked her lips, trying to bolster her courage enough to ask the next question. "Why is Aksel Bredeh so important to Nykyrian?"

"What do you care?" he barked.

Kiara glared at him, her cheeks warming in anger over his unwarranted hostility. "You

guys have to be the most defensive group alive.
Mia kitana
, can't I ever get a simple

answer out of any of you?"

Hauk laughed deep in his throat, a sound that she found far from comforting. "You're

right. We are a prone to evasiveness. You should play Questions with them sometime.

I've never seen anyone hedge an inquiry better than Nykyrian and Rachol."

It was magical the way his personality changed from coarse to friendly. "I'm not even

sure what went on between Aksel and Nykyrian. Then again, there's not much I am sure

about where Nykyrian is concerned except for the fact he would die for me."

She frowned at the newfound knowledge. "Why do you say that?"

"He's taken enough shots protecting my hulking ass over the years."

Kiara watched him finish setting up the game, thinking about what he said. "Have you

ever seen him smile?"

Hauk closed the box, his eyes carefully shuttered.

"No."

His response brought an ache to her chest. She used her next ploy to gain more tidbits

about Nykyrian from him. "How long have you known him?"

Hauk gave her a cold stare. "Since he was nine."

She dropped her jaw in shock, his revelation pouring through her. "And you don't know him well enough to have ever seen him smile?"

Hauk shrugged. "He doesn't smile. Hell, he barely speaks. It was worse when he was a

kid. At least now he doesn't glare and hiss every time someone speaks to him."

Kiara's heart lurched at the thought. Nykyrian was a strange fascination for her—the

more she learned about his past, the more she wanted to know all about him. "Then

you've seen his eyes," she said, hoping to find out why Nykyrian hid them.

Hauk sat perfectly still and watched her. "Yes, I have."

"What do they look like? Yours?"

"If he wants you to know, he'll take his glasses off. Were I you, I wouldn't wait on that day."

Kiara sat back on her heels, gnashing her teeth in frustration. At this rate, she'd die of old age before any of these tight-lipped misers gave her any information about their beloved

companion.