Born of the Night (22 page)

She shook her head. "No, I don't. One minute you hold me as if you fear I'm going to leave you, then the next you snap and hiss like you want me to leave."

Without answering, he turned and walked out of the cafe. Groaning with frustration,

Kiara joined him. Never had she been so confused. She wanted to shake her fist at him,

beat him, shake him, soothe him and even more terrifying to her, make love to him.

She clenched her teeth in frustration. Did he feel the same way about her? Was that why

he was doing this, because he was every bit as confused by his emotions as she was by

hers? Why couldn't he just talk to her and tell her what bothered him, why he did what he

did?

Nykyrian kept glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Kiara was still behind him.

He regretted his words. For that matter, he regretted his life. He knew he should explain

his feelings to her, but he wasn't sure if he could stand the barrage of emotions that would

batter his soul if he released all the pain in his past. No, she would be much better off not

knowing anything about him. It wasn't too late for her to find someone else. Someone

who . . . A lump formed in his stomach. He couldn't stand the thought of going back to a

life without her. What was he going to do?

Kiara stared at Nykyrian's back, wondering if he ever felt anything at all. All she wanted

was one sign from him that he cared, that he could love her. Her heart pounded. Was that

asking so very much?

They picked up her packages and made their way back to Nykyrian's house. Kiara

remained silent, her emotions clumped in a tight knot in her throat.

Rachol appeared amused by their hostility as he helped unload the fighter. The only

words Nykyrian spoke to her were to tell her where to store her clothes. Other than that,

he grabbed a toolbox and made his way out to the bay to work on Rachol's ship.

In angry, irate jerks, Kiara pulled her clothes out of the bags and boxes, and set about

putting them away. As each second passed, she became angrier and angrier at herself for

caring what Nykyrian thought anyway. She was acting like some love-sick teenager. If he

didn't want her, fine. She could easily find someone else.

Her heart sank at the thought. She didn't want anyone else. She wanted Nykyrian.

Ignoring her new clothes on the bed, she curled up on the mattress and sobbed out the

misery burning in her soul.

"So what did you two do today?" Rachol asked, helping Nykyrian jerk open the panel on his stabilizer.

"Nothing," Nykyrian said. "Did you find Driana's address."

Rachol nodded, his eyes probing Nykyrian in a way that always made him want to throw something at the man.

Rachol handed him a power wrench. "I also found out some interesting tidbits about you

and Driana."

Nykyrian narrowed his eyes. He definitely wanted to throw something at Rachol. "You

weren't supposed to go into her personal file, or mine for that matter."

Rachol shrugged and unwrapped the new part. "Couldn't resist."

Nykyrian held his breath, waiting for Rachol to build up enough courage to ask him the

next question.

Sure enough, he found his courage. "So how did she end up married to Aksel and not

you?"

Nykyrian loosened the plate's bolt, his mind whirling with memories he didn't like to

think about. "Her father and the Commander thought he'd make a better husband."

"Yeah, but- "

"Enough!" Nykyrian roared. "I don't want to think about this anymore. It was a long time ago. Leave it alone."

* * *

Kiara stroked Ilyse's ears, wiping the tears from her face. A few weeks ago, she had

known who she was and what she wanted. Now, she wasn't sure of anything. Why was

she so attracted to a man who didn't seem to care about her at all? True enough he had

bedded her, but that was not love.

With a trembling sigh, she pushed herself off the bed and started folding her clothes. She

didn't understand why Nykyrian did anything. Why did he buy her so much, then push

her away?

He had been so tender last night, she had been sure he loved her, needed her. Then the

morning had dawned and again he was distant. Clenching her teeth against the miserable

pain in her breast, she pushed the button to open the closet door.

A flash of light from the windows caught her attention and she looked out the clear wall

next to the closed off bathroom to see Nykyrian and Rachol working on Rachol's ship.

Rachol's voice was muffled, but clearly audible as they talked, and for once, they spoke

in a language she could understand.

"I hope you've thought about this," Rachol said, tossing a tool up to Nykyrian.

Nykyrian caught it. "Kiara is my concern."

"No, she's all of ours. My God, with one word, she could destroy you. Hell, all of us for that matter."

Nykyrian grimaced as he tugged on a part. "So could you."

Rachol shook his head. "You know better than that. Be reasonable. We've worked too

hard for what we have for you to just toss it away because of some
harita.
If all you want is a good— " Rachol barely had time to dodge the tool that flew past his head.

Nykyrian jumped off the ship and grabbed Rachol by the collar of his shirt. Kiara held

her breath, afraid of what he might do.

"Don't ever insult her again!" he snarled, his hands tightening around Rachol's shirt. "It's my life I risk, not yours."

Anger clouded Rachol's face and for a moment, Kiara feared they might begin fighting.

"God dammit Kip, don't do this. You're all I've got. She's not worth your life, don't you understand? We need you. I need you."

More tears fell down Kiara's cheeks as she watched Nykyrian release Rachol.

Nykyrian stood there, watching him, his face unreadable. After several seconds, he

sighed. "I've had so many people dictate my life for me. I'm tired of doing what's

expected. I thought you of all people would understand what it's like to want something

and then once you get it, not let go."

Rachol shook his head, his lips in a tight line. "C'mon, you know better than this. Since when are women reliable? They leave the first time anything gets difficult."

Nykyrian snorted. "That's not true."

Rachol's eyebrows lifted. "Isn't it? She'll never leave the theatre to be with you. And you can't live out in the open. If you try, you know how long it'll take before a League

Assassin cuts your throat."

Nykyrian slammed his hand into the side of the ship. The hollow sound echoed in the

bay, through Kiara's mind. "I've spent my entire life listening to people tell me why I

can't be loved." The bitterness in his voice tore through Kiara. "I always told myself that I didn't care, or need anyone to love me."

Nykyrian raked his hand through his hair and leveled his gaze on Rachol. "It was a lie,

you know. I do care and I want Kiara. If it costs me my life to be with her, it doesn't

matter. I've already lived past my prime anyway. I wake every morning with more pain in

my joints than the day before. If I have to die, I'd rather die knowing someone loved me, just once."

Kiara barely heard the end of his words. Sobs raked her body as she sank to the floor.

Burying her head in her hands, she cried. He loved her.

She didn't know how she was going to reach him, but she promised herself that someday

soon, she would, she had to. Her happiness hinged on her ability to claim him fully, to

make him admit to
her
just how much he did care.

Ten

Nykyrian stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. Maybe Rachol was right,

maybe Kiara would be his death. But then death had been something he had craved most

of his life anyway. With a tired sigh, he wrapped the towel around his hips and opened

the door. He froze.

Kiara lay on the bed in a filmy black negligee, her hair combed out around her. His blood

raced at the sight. He steeled himself. "I thought you were downstairs," he said, trying to remain distant, knowing it was futile.

He reached to retrieve his clothes from the bed. Her silken hand covered his. Nykyrian's

flesh burned at the gentle touch, he wanted her surrounding him more than he had ever

wanted anything. His gaze traveled from her hand, up her perfect arm, to the beauty of

her face. Her soft, amber eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier today," she whispered. "For all I know, Jullien deserved everything you said and more. I tend to say things when I'm angry, things I seldom

mean."

Nykyrian was tempted to apologize as well, but he couldn't bring the words past his lips.

He dropped the towel and pulled his clothes from the bed. Kiara's face turned bright red

before she averted her eyes from his body.

Pulling on his clothes, he studied her profile. True he had been with women who were

more beautiful than she, but none of them had ever made him feel so much at ease, or

soothed the ache inside him.

There was so much he wanted to tell her and so much he feared telling her. He took a

deep breath. Either way, there were things she had to know, he owed her that much.

Kiara looked back at Nykyrian when the bed dipped under his weight. He was dressed

and staring at her with a strange look. She sat up, wondering if he would bother telling

her what had him upset now.

He reached his hand out and toyed with several of the curls laying on her shoulder. "You have the most beautiful hair," he said in a ragged voice that set her blood on fire.

She smiled, taking his hand in hers. Kiara opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a

finger on her lips. "I have some things to tell you and I need you to listen."

She swallowed, curious about his grave tone. He stared at her for the longest time as if he

wanted to memorize her face. "I'm not what you think. No," he said, cupping her cheek as she started to protest. "Listen. I've done a lot of things in my life that I regret." He looked away from her and his hand fell away. Emptiness consumed her, Kiara wanted

desperately to bring his warm touch back to her skin. To tell him she didn't care about his

past, that he could never do anything to drive her away.

Nykyrian sighed, his gaze still focused on the wall. "I used to tell myself what I did was right, that the killings I performed protected governments and innocent lives." The angry twitch beat a determined rhythm in his cheek. "Then I learned the truth."

He stood and paced the floor around the bed in angry strides. Kiara's heart pounded in

sympathetic pain and she wished once more she could soothe him.

Nykyrian looked up at her, his eyes troubled. "I can't explain to you how it felt to realize everything about you was a lie and everything you had been doing for six years was

immoral and wrong."

"That's why you quit the League?"

He nodded.

A smile curved her lips, tears gathering in her eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs

and love spread through her.

"That's when I became Nemesis."

Her smile faded as he faced her and his words penetrated her thoughts. "What!"

"I'm Nemesis."

Kiara's mind went numb. Over and over, she heard the news broadcasts informing the

public of the grisly killings. She sprang from the bed, cold terror washing over her. Dear

God, she was in the house alone with a brutal killer!

Nykyrian caught her by the arms as she tried to run down the stairs. "Kiara, listen to me."

"No!" she shrieked, struggling against him. "My God, you rip people into pieces! You . . .

You eat pieces of them before you dump their bodies!"

Nykyrian closed his eyes and released her. Without another word, he left her alone in the room.

Kiara sank to the floor, unable to believe his declaration. Nemesis. Dear God, what had

she involved herself in? No wonder Rachol was so afraid of her. With this knowledge,

she could hand Nykyrian over to the authorities and put an end to all the brutal

assassinations. Everything she had thought about him was a lie. He was a killer, a cold-

blooded, ruthless killer!

An image of Jana flashed through her mind. The way Nykyrian had protected, then

soothed the child before carrying him to safety.
I'm scared too,
she heard Nykyrian

whisper the day he saved her from Aksel.
He had been chained to the wall,
Orinthe said in her ear.

Kiara took a deep breath to slow the pounding beat of her heart. Nykyrian had trusted her.

He had given her the most sought-after secret in the universe.

She sat on the floor for close to an hour, trying to sift through her warring emotions. Part

of her wanted her to do the right thing and turn him in, but her heart and soul wouldn't let

her. Nykyrian wasn't a brutal killer, she knew that. Deep inside her, she saw the part of

him who had saved a starving boy off the street, who helped Rachol, who guarded her.

There was more to his being Nemesis than the reports given by the news. Standing up,

Kiara went to find Nykyrian and the truth behind his facade.

She found him in the exercise room, stripped to his waist, pounding a weight bag. Each

blow he delivered to the bag was one in studied fury. She could feel his anger and pain as

if it were her own.

"Nykyrian," she said softly.

He hesitated, looking over at her. The bag swung back, knocking him sideways. He let

out a loud grunt and pushed the bag away from him. Kiara stifled her laughter over the

shocked look on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a fierce voice, striking the bag again with his fist. "I might get blood on you."