Born of the Night (16 page)

Nykyrian had always known it would come to this one day. "Let her go and you'll get the

chance you've been waiting for," he shouted, watching Arast carefully.

Arast slung Kiara away from him. Not waiting for the bastard to shoot her, or to throw

down his weapon, which would be a miracle anyway, Nykyrian launched himself from

the shadows, straight at his target,

Kiara screamed as the two men entwined. They moved so quickly, all she could see was a

blur of color, black and brown moving in a dreadful dance, Nykyrian's life balancing on

the outcome. She rubbed her throat in nervous strokes of her fingers, barely feeling the

welts left by the assassin's cruel hands.

A flash of light fired. Nykyrian cursed. The assassin came to his feet and angled his

blaster at Nykyrian, but before he could fire, Nykyrian caught him about the head and

twisted. She recognized the sound of grinding bone a split second before blood gushed

out of the soldier's mouth and he crumpled slowly to the ground.

Horrified, she stared at Nykyrian as he stooped over the man's body, feeling for a pulse.

He had killed with his bare hands! Nykyrian came to his feet.

Kiara's heart pounded in fear. For the first time, she fully realized what he was and what

he could do. The stench of blood clung to him, choking her.

"Come on," Nykyrian said, holding his hand out to her. "The others will be here shortly."

Her illusions shattered, tears ran down her cheeks in two icy paths.

"Kiara!" Nykyrian snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her to his ship. "We have to leave."

Somehow, she managed to climb up the ladder and seat herself in the cockpit of his ship.

Her heart hammered in her chest as he joined her.

He had just strapped them in, when his body went rigid.

Kiara looked up to see more soldiers entering the bay. Nykyrian flipped switches in front

of her. The engines of their ship fired with a deafening roar.

Transfixed by the large group of assassins, Kiara stared at them. One man stood out at the

head of the soldiers, glaring at her and Nykyrian with a handsome, cold face that

mirrored cruelty and hatred.

Aksel stared at his two targets, knowing Nykyrian had once more slipped from his grasp

as the Arcana flew out of the bay. "Dammit!" he shouted.

It was then, he noticed the body of his brother. His teeth chattered in rage and hatred.

"Find them!" he snarled to his soldiers. "I will have that hybrid's life, or your own!"

Shoving his men from his path, Aksel made his way back to his own ship. This was far

from over. He would claim Nykyrian's life no matter what!

Seven

Kiara trembled in shock and fear. Over and over, she saw Nykyrian break the soldier's

neck, heard the bone splintering, the blood . . .

They had just landed outside the building where Rachol lived. The scent of warm, sticky

blood clung to her. The assassin's blood from where Nykyrian had killed him, she

thought, her stomach twisting. She tried to rise from the seat, but her limbs wouldn't

move.

Gently, Nykyrian wrapped his arms around her and carried her into Rachol's flat. Kiara

wanted the strength to push him away, to bathe the smell of blood from her body. But just

then, it took all her strength to keep her mind from replaying the entire fight, her ears

from hearing once more the final macabre snap of bone.

Nykyrian placed her on the couch. Sitting next to her, he rubbed her cold hands. Kiara's

mind protested. "Don't touch me!" she shouted, pushing him away. "My God, you killed that man with your bare hands!"

His hands stiffened on hers, then he moved away without a word.

Kiara leaned against the arm of the couch and cried. Granted they had both talked about his profession many times, Nykyrian had even made jokes about it, but the reality of what

he could do had never really struck her, until now.

Nykyrian stared at her quaking shoulders, wanting to comfort her, but knowing he

couldn't. He thought about Arast and his gut knotted. Guilt consumed him. Since he,

Aksel and Arast had left the League, he had done his best to avoid them, knowing what

would happen if they ever found each other.

His throat tightened as he listened to her cry. He had known what Kiara's reaction would

be to him once she realized what he really was. She hated him. At least now she would be

easier to guard. She wouldn't bother making attempts at friendship.

Still, her tears tore through him. He watched her shaking shoulders and his heart thudded

a hollow, empty beat against his ribs. He should have refused the contract.

The door opened. Nykyrian spun about at the sound, his blaster leveling at the figure.

Rachol held up his hands. "Whoa, friend!"

Nykyrian closed his eyes and holstered his blaster. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Rachol shook his head, a knowing smile on his lips. "Whatever you did to Aksel, you got

him screaming mad. He's sent his men all over looking for you." He paused as he noticed

Kiara. "Is she all right?"

Nykyrian shook his head, his guilt mounting. "I killed Arast in the bay before we left."

Rachol paled. "You what? Are you okay?"

He shrugged, not sure of anything at the moment. "I've got some things to do. Get her to

safety."

Kiara heard Nykyrian leave, but she didn't bother looking up. She wasn't sure she liked

Rachol anymore at that time than she did Nykyrian. Dear God, between the two of them,

how many men had they killed?

"Here."

She jumped as Rachol handed her a glass of
brika
. "I don't drink intoxicants," she said, sniffing.

"It'll help," he said, pressing it into her hand. Without further argument, she tossed the scorching liquid down her throat where it burned a path to her stomach. She gasped, her

eyes watering.

She handed the glass back to Rachol and studied his pensive face. Was he as soulless as Nykyrian?

A new knot formed in her throat. No one could do what Nykyrian did and still have a

soul, or even be normal. As far as she could tell, killing that man had been nothing more

to him than tying his shoelaces!

Rachol sighed, interrupting her thoughts. "If you like, we can send you back to your

father. But I warn you, it'll mean your life if we do."

She looked up at him, her eyes burning from all the tears she had cried. "I would rather

take my chances with my father's men. I trust them."

"I thought you trusted us."

"I did."

His eyes narrowed. By the look on his face, she thought he might like to strangle her.

Instead, he curled his lip into a fierce snarl. "Why don't you quit feeling sorry for

yourself. I'm just a little tired of it."

Warmth rushed to her cheeks. "How dare you!"

Rachol leaned over the arm of the couch, forcing her to lean back. He braced his arms on

each side of her, penning her in. She didn't like being cornered. His eyes blazed and for a

moment, she thought he might actually strike her.

"You think you're so unsullied. How dare you sit there like some queen dispensing her

will on others. If you would get off your
dais
long enough to live, you might realize other people have feelings and needs besides you!"

His breath fell against her cheek in angry pulses that punctuated each biting word. "I —"

"You what?" he sneered. "Do you know who Aksel Bredeh and Arast are?"

She shook her head, no longer even caring.

"Nykyrian's brothers."

Her breath left her body in shock. "No," she whispered, numbed disbelief washing over her.

Rachol pushed himself away from her and walked toward the bar that separated the main

room from the kitchen. "Oh yeah. Right now, wherever the hell Kip is, he's not in good

shape. You think you hurt, imagine how he feels. He has spent the last few years

avoiding them, allowing people to call him a coward, to prevent from happening what you caused today!"

Her temper flared at his accusation. "You can't blame this on me!"

Rachol curled his lip. "Who else? If not for your spoiled little butt, he wouldn't have been anywhere near them today."

Her hands shook as she clutched them in her lap, thinking about his words. "How could

he kill his own brother?" she whispered, unable to comprehend such a thing.

Rachol shook his head. "Stop it, please," he snarled. "Don't waste pity on Arast. If he had been given the chance, he would have raped you, cut you into little pieces and fed you to

his dogs. And that's nice compared to what he would've done to Nykyrian."

Kiara stared at him, wondering if he were telling her the truth. No, she couldn't believe

anyone could be that cruel to their own brother. Nykyrian was the demon, not Arast. "I

don't understand how you can say such a thing."

"No, you don't and you don't even try to."

She stiffened her spine. "How can I when all of you close me out."

To her surprise, shock rippled across his face before he gave a half laugh. "I guess that's true enough."

She rubbed her forehead where a small ache was beginning to throb. "So what does it

take to understand him, or you for that matter?"

Rachol snorted. "I doubt you ever could."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt you can even imagine the kind of homes Kip and I

grew up in. They don't exist in the candy-coated worlds of little spoiled girls."

His patronizing voice set her temper ablaze. "I'm not a child anymore."

"Then why are you acting like one?"

She glared at him. "I suppose killing a man is mature."

"It beats the hell out of self-pity."

Kiara sat there, staring at him, his words hanging in the air between them like a pall. He broke eye contact and moved to the bar. He picked up a bottle of
brika
and poured a large glass full.

For several seconds he stared at it, then cursed and emptied it into the sink. "Self-pity,"

he mumbled so low, Kiara wondered if she had even heard him. He refilled the glass with

water and took a deep draught.

A sudden realization struck her as she watched the envious way he stared at the bottle of

alcohol. "You have a drinking problem, don't you?" she asked, wondering what other

surprises awaited her about Nykyrian and Rachol.

He tipped the glass of water to her. "No problem really until I sober up. Makes Kip

crazed though. You ever want to really set his temper off, let him smell alcohol on my

breath. He hates self-destructive habits."

Her anger faltered. "Are you a
duwad
?" He smiled at her, his dark eyes twinkling. "That had to come from Kip."

She nodded, wondering how he could wax from anger to humor so quickly.

Rachol sat the glass down and ran his hand over the condensation on the outside of it.

"No, I'm too much of a coward to openly try and kill myself. Alcohol is just a good way

to numb myself until nature takes care of it for me."

A loud knock pounded on the door. Kiara gasped, fearing Aksel had found them.

"You wonder why I drink," Rachol said, pulling his blaster from the holster.

"Stay down," he warned her, creeping toward the door. He flicked on the console then breathed a sigh of relief. He holstered his blaster.

Taking that as a sign it was a friendly caller, Kiara sat up. Rachol opened the door and

hauled Darling into the flat by his arm.

"Hey!" Darling snapped. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Aksel's after us," Rachol said, locking the door.

Darling looked at her and nodded a greeting. "No wonder Nykyrian was so skittish."

Kiara stared at the black eye marring the exposed side of Darling's face. His eye was red

and the whole cheek swollen.

"My God," Rachol said, finally seeing it, too. "What happened to you?"

Darling signed. "What d'you think?"

"I swear I'm going to kill that
boowah
someday."

Darling gave a bitter laugh. "Kip said almost the same thing. Anyway, he sent me here to

get that disk you've been working on for Aksel's base on Oksana."

Rachol frowned. "Why?"

"As if he would tell me?"

Rachol rubbed his hands over his face like he had a headache to match Kiara's. "It's in the safe in my room." Rachol met Kiara's eyes. "Darling, I hate to be rude, but I've got to get her to safety before you know who figures out where I live. Lock my door and don't

forget to hook up my scanner."

"Done."

Rachol held his hand out to her. "Are you staying with us your queenship?"

Kiara took his hand, not really sure if what she did was for the best. "For now." He pulled her to her feet and they headed toward the door.

Kiara waited until they were in Rachol's ship and out of the planet's orbit before she

spoke, "What happened to Darling's eye?"

Rachol stiffened while he flipped switches on his console. "Arturo."

She frowned. "Family?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said with a sigh. "His stepfather turned legal guardian."

Kiara thought the matter over, her heart pounding in sympathetic pain. "Why doesn't

Darling just leave home?"

Rachol took a deep breath. "He can't. According to Caronese law, he's a minor until his

twenty-sixth birthday. Three years from now." Rachol turned the ship to the right. "Does his eye shock you?"

"No," Kiara said. "What shocks me is the fact he allows Arturo to beat him."

Rachol sighed again. "That's a long story I'm sure Darling doesn't want you to know."

She nodded, not really sure she wanted to know either. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.