Born of the Night (20 page)

A hand touched her shoulder. She gasped and spun about, unable to believe he had

followed her so quietly. Nykyrian touched her cheek, his eyes apologetic.

"I'm sorry."

Kiara held his hand at her cheek and nodded. "I couldn't stand it if you were hurt because of me," she whispered. A single tear fell down her cheek. Nykyrian caught it with his

finger and wiped away the moisture.

Kiara received his hungry kiss. He held her to him in a tight embrace that told her how

much he cared. His lips slid across hers in a raw demanding insistence that stole her

breath and made her body ache for more. The sound of an engine outside in the bay,

broke them apart.

"Rachol," Nykyrian said as he pulled away. He headed for the stairs.

"Nykyrian?" Kiara waited until he faced her. "I love you."

He closed his eyes as if the words hurt him. Without responding, he turned around and

left her standing in his room, Pixley rubbing up against her leg.

Kiara sighed, afraid of how all this would work itself out. It seemed as if all things

worked against her. What did she want? With Nykyrian, she would be banned from the

theatre. Without him, she would be lost.

"Oh bother," she mumbled and headed to the shower.

Rachol came through the door with enough anger to burst his seams. "I want blood!" he said, crossing the room to where Nykyrian sat at his desk. "Two of Aksel's dogs cornered

me near Tondara. They shot me!" he shouted incredulously. "Those bastards actually shot a hole in my stabilizer the size of Mirala!"

Nykyrian just stared at him.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

"Were you hurt?"

Rachol shifted, some of his anger diminishing. "No."

"Then why are you having a fit?"

Rachol laughed. "I don't know, it just felt right."

Nykyrian shook his head at him. "Was there much damage done to your ship?"

Rachol sighed and moved to stand behind Nykyrian where he could read over his

shoulder. There was something going on with his friend, and Rachol couldn't quite place

what it was. "No, not really. Just enough to really make me mad."

Rachol's eyes widened as he scanned the contract. "Holy geez," he breathed. "Biardi's not playing around with that."

"No, he's not."

Rachol took a deep breath. "So what are we going to do about it? My vote is we terminate

the
gratter.
"
Nykyrian gave him a menacing glare. "He deserves it," Rachol said defensively.

"Yeah well, we can't go around assassinating respected officials."

Rachol snorted, wishing they could. "I think we should forget this protection crap and

jettison Kiara back on a remote shuttle." He moved to lie down on one of the sofas.

The door upstairs opened. The softened look on Nykyrian's face as he stared up at the

dancer made Rachol grind his teeth. He glanced up from the couch and caught Kiara's

blush, and in that moment, he knew what the two of them had been up to. "Aw God," he muttered.

Nykyrian shot him a lethal glare. "Please deny it," Rachol begged. Kiara's blush

deepened.

Rachol slung his feet over the couch and stood. "Have you lost all your brains?"

Nykyrian came to his feet and Rachol recognized the angry twitch in his jaw. "It's none of your concern."

Clenching his teeth, Rachol backed down. "Fine," he snapped, glaring at Kiara with all the malice he felt.

"Kiara and I have a few things to do this morning. I need you to stay here and work on

locating Aksel and Shahara. When I get back, we'll repair your ship."

Rachol wanted to strangle some sense into his friend. It wasn't like Nykyrian to toss safety to the wind for anything, especially a woman.

"Fine," Rachol said, knowing this wasn't the time to start a heavy debate, but he promised himself he would talk sense into Kip even if he had to shoot him. "I need a new plate for my rear thruster."

"No problem," Nykyrian said, heading up the stairs. "I need to change, then we'll leave."

Rachol turned his glare to Kiara.

After a few seconds, Nykyrian called down to him. "I need you to find an address for

Aksel's wife. Her name is Driana Bredeh, she should be in the Solaras System."

Rachol frowned. "I didn't know that scab was married," he muttered.

Kiara walked around the couch, a strange look on her face as she neared him. "Why are

Aksel and Nykyrian at odds with one another?"

Rachol shrugged. "Commander Huwin's eldest and favorite son died in battle. For

whatever reason, he didn't think Aksel or Arast were soldier material so he decided to

adopt another son."

Rachol glanced up the stairs, wondering if Nykyrian could hear him. Maliciously, he

decided he didn't care and continued, "Huwin found Nykyrian in a work home. From the

moment Aksel met Kip, he hated him. Then when Nykyrian graduated top of his class

and went into the League as the youngest commissioned officer in history, Aksel couldn't

take it. He's been mental toward Kip ever since."

Kiara opened her mouth to ask him another question, but Nykyrian returned. Rachol

recognized the warning in Kip's eyes that he should keep his tongue still around Kiara. A

vengeful smile curved his lips as he silently dared Kip to say anything.

At least Kip wore his usual street clothes, the long black coat that concealed his blaster,

his glasses and the silver inlaid boots with retractable blades.

Rachol knew Kip could take care of himself, but he still wished Nykyrian would see

reason and stop this crap with Kiara before it was too late for all of them. Nykyrian held

his hand out to Kiara and Rachol cursed under his breath.

With his temper barely restrained, Rachol watched the two of them leave. Stroking Ilyse's

head, he listened to the engines fire outside.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he whispered to himself. "Most of all, I hope she's worth it."

Even as he said the words, Rachol had a strange premonition Nykyrian was headed for death.

Nine

"Where are we?" Kiara asked as they docked inside a brightly lighted bay on a planet she had never seen before.

"The city of Verta," Nykyrian said, switching off his engines.

"Verta?" Kiara repeated, a thrill rushing through her. She had always wanted to visit the infamous shops lining Paraf Run, but her father had always claimed it would be far too

dangerous. Every manner of questionable merchandise— including slaves— was bought

and sold here by some of the universe's most dangerous beings.

"Are you sure this is safe?" she asked.

Nykyrian released the hatch. "Very. I'm well known here and no one is stupid enough to

cross me."

An impish thought occurred to her and she couldn't resist asking, "What if some high-

ranking aristocrat sees me and demands my
private
services?"

His hands tensed around her safety strap. "I'd rip his heart out and feed it to him."

Kiara wasn't sure if she liked his answer. She swallowed as an image of Arast's death

played through her mind.

After freeing her of the safety straps, Nykyrian helped her down and led the way out of

the bay, into a crowded street. "Stay with me," he said, wrapping an arm possessively about her waist.

Kiara scanned the street, amazed at the variety of beings and cultures represented. She

saw everything from wealthy princesses arrayed in the finest materials available, to filthy

street urchins who barely wore enough to cover their nudity. One bedraggled little boy

ran past them.

Nykyrian released her. "Jana!" he shouted and the boy skidded to a halt.

Kiara watched in amazement as Nykyrian showed the boy to a hiding place barely a

heartbeat before an angry Keeper rounded a corner, his club swinging. The Keeper

looked in all directions, then spied them.

He pushed his way through the crowd, glaring at Nykyrian. "Have you seen Jana The

Thief?" he snapped.

Nykyrian crossed his arms over his chest. "No, why?"

By the Keeper's face, Kiara could tell the man thought Nykyrian was lying, but he said

nothing more. With a grimace in her direction, he slowly made his way down the street.

Kiara bit her bottom lip, wondering what was going on. Nykyrian reached into the

shadows and pulled the boy out by his arm.

"What were you doing?" Nykyrian demanded in a firm, yet gentle voice.

The boy looked sheepishly at her. "I didn't do nothing, Nykyrian, I swear it on my life!"

Nykyrian's stern face softened. "What did they accuse you of doing?"

The boy licked his lips and lowered his head. His thin shoulders shook and Kiara realized

he was crying. "Me mama died two days ago," he sobbed. "They want to take me to a work home."

That familiar, angry twitch began in Nykyrian's jaw.

To her utter amazement, he pulled the dirty little boy into his arms and held him. "It's all right, Jana. I won't let them do that to you."

A lump choked Kiara as she watched the tender way he lifted the boy in his arms. Jana's

thin little arms encircled him while he sobbed against Nykyrian's neck.

"For a man without emotions, you seem caring enough to me," she said, pushing a lock of matted hair from Jana's dirt-smudged cheek.

Nykyrian didn't comment. Instead, he led her down a small alley to the back of a shop.

He removed his glasses and knocked on the rear door where they waited until an

attractive, elderwoman appeared.

"Nykyrian!" she breathed happily, pushing open the screen door to look him up and down like a mother seeing her son after a long absence.

Suddenly, Kiara recognized the woman as the nurse who had tended Nykyrian in the first

disk she'd viewed the day before.

"Hi Orinthe. May we come in?" he asked, glancing at Kiara.

"You know you're welcome here any time!" she said with a smile and opened the door

wider.

Nykyrian stood back and allowed Kiara to enter first. The elderwoman led her through an

immaculate storeroom of foodstuffs and into a small lounge to the right. Jana had stopped

crying and was looking around at the food with such longing, it made Kiara want to cry for him.

Nykyrian sat Jana down in one of four chairs that encircled a small, round table. Orinthe

reached up on a shelf and brought out a bowl of fruit and pastries. With a tender smile,

she sat it before Jana who eagerly tore into it.

A strange look crossed Orinthe's face as she watched Jana. "He reminds me of another

boy I knew a long time ago," she said to Nykyrian.

Nykyrian didn't move. He sat still for several seconds watching Jana. "He needs a home,"

he said after a long pause. "I didn't know where else to take him." Orinthe nodded. "I could use help here in the office. My regular errand boy quit three days ago and I haven't

had the time to look for another."

Jana looked up from his food, his eyes wide. "Stay here?" he asked in awe. "With all this food?"

Orinthe's bright smile warmed Kiara's heart. "And you can eat as much as you can hold!"

Jana looked from Nykyrian to Orinthe in brilliant happiness.

"Of course," she said seriously. "You'll have to keep yourself clean and wash behind your ears." Jana wrinkled his nose. "But I can eat all this?"

"As much as you can hold," Orinthe repeated. Jana smiled.

"Nykyrian," Orinthe said, rising to her feet. "Can you help him upstairs and get him clean."

"Sure," he said, then helped Jana carry his fruit pastries out of the room.

Kiara smiled after them, her heart pounding in pride and love at Nykyrian's tenderness.

Orinthe turned her faded blue eyes to Kiara with a probing stare that told Kiara she

wouldn't be able to hide anything from the wise elderwoman. "Are you Nykyrian's

woman?" she asked quietly. Kiara sighed. "I doubt it."

Orinthe laughed at her words, her eyes twinkling. "Well if it solaces you any, you're the first woman I've ever seen him with." She wiped a damp cloth over the surface of the

table, removing the crumbs Jana had left behind in his eagerness to eat his fill. "What's your name, child?"

"Kiara."

Her smile widened. "A name as beautiful as the one who bears it."

"Thank you," she said, her cheeks warming.

Orinthe folded the cloth and sat it on the table before them.

Kiara watched the kind elderwoman, a thousand questions swirling in her mind about

Nykyrian. "You were Nykyrian's nurse, weren't you?"

Orinthe bit her bottom lip, then stood and closed the door to the upper room where

Nykyrian had taken Jana. She returned to her chair, motioning for Kiara to lean closer to

her. "He can hear you, you know."

Kiara smiled, remembering only too well Nykyrian's extraordinary hearing.

"I was his psychoanalyst," Orinthe said, keeping her voice low. "After his adoption, he needed help adjusting into a family."

Kiara frowned. "Why?"

Orinthe sat back in her chair, her eyes glazing over with memories. She took a deep

breath and fretfully glanced at the closed door. "When I first met Nykyrian, I had never

seen a child in the state he was in. Nor have I seen one since."

Kiara chewed her nail, listening attentively, waiting for the elderwoman to continue.

When it seemed Orinthe was content to let the subject drop, Kiara prompted her. "What

kind of state?"

Orinthe's lips trembled. She shook her head, her gray eyes seemed troubled. "You cannot

imagine. He had been kept chained to a wall in a child's work home, allowed only

garbage and water for nourishment. The workers feared giving him meat. They thought

the taste of it might drive his Andarion blood into a feeding frenzy. I suppose they