Born of Night

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  They must have greased a major palm.

  "Suck it up, baby," she said under her breath. "You have to find something for that lock and get out of here." Surely there was an escape shuttle or pod she could find and launch.

  Heck, at this point, she'd be willing to eject herself into space and float home--at least if she could find a suit that would protect her from the vacuum of space.

  She curled her lip at the nastiness as she kicked at a pile near her, looking for something she could use on the door. I'd rather be eaten alive than call this place home . . .

  There was a pile of half-gnawed food under a small towel. "Ah, gross."

  One would think the sheer disgustingness of this mess would kill them. Where were flesh-eating parasites when she needed them?

  Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching in the corridor outside. Even more determined than before, she cast her gaze around, searching for a weapon.

  Nothing but the wilted garbage met her sight.

  Kiara growled deep in her throat. The only help the garbage offered was the possibility her kidnappers might faint from the stench.

  If only she were so lucky. They probably smelled worse than the garbage did.

  Clenching her teeth, she pressed herself against the wall by the door and waited to attack them when they entered.

  CHAPTER 2

  "I can't wait to get some pleasure out of this," a man said, his voice slowly drawing near her room. "Did you see her? That tight body is the stuff of legends."

  Kiara narrowed her gaze as rage and fear consumed her. No one would ever make her feel powerless again.

  Ever.

  "I don't know, Chenz," another man spoke. "I think we oughta wait till we get further out. I keep thinking about Poll's message that Nemesis is after us. We need to take that seriously. Don't get me wrong, I want a piece of her too, but I'd rather wait until we're safe."

  Her vision dimmed with fury. They might kill her, but she intended to take a large piece of them with her on her way out the door.

  Chenz's laugh echoed in the hallway. The arrogant sound sent a shiver down her spine. "Nemesis ain't nothing to fear. We done been paid, I say we ought to enjoy every minute of this."

  The gears hummed in the door as it slowly slid upward.

  Kiara tensed, waiting to pounce.

  Two of the nastiest beings she'd ever seen walked inside. Yeah, their stench beat out the garbage and then some. Why did she have to be right on that point? It was enough to make her gag. Had they never taken a bath in their putrid lives?

  She conceded they were human, though neither did honor to her race.

  Kiara curled her lip at the shorter one, wondering how he could stand to look at his ugly, warted face long enough to shave. But then, by the amount of stubble on his pudgy jowls, she could tell he didn't look too often.

  The man at his side was only a few inches taller. His long, sharp, angular features reminded her of one of the beasties her nurse used to frighten her with when she was a child.

  Their eyes mirrored a coldness in their souls that chilled her own.

  "Well, where is she?" It was Chenz's voice. He was the shorter one.

  Before they could react, she launched herself at them. She caught Chenz with a hard kick that knocked him into his accomplice and then ran for the door.

  Before she could reach it, someone tripped her. A trained dancer by trade, she was able to flip over and keep going. At least until something solid hit her back and sent her slamming to the floor.

  Cursing, she realized it was Chenz's overweight frame holding her down. He turned her over quickly and struck her a vicious blow across the face. Kiara reeled as pain exploded through her cheek and eye and she tasted blood. For a moment, she was completely senseless.

  Only the sound of her nightgown ripping brought her back to the present and her mind away from the pain. With a curse born of desperation, she sent her fist into Chenz's flabby belly. Releasing her, he doubled over in pain, allowing her to roll out from under him.

  The other man came at her the instant she was back on her feet.

  Kiara scissor-kicked him, catching him in the center of his chest. Her nightgown tore more as she scrambled from them. There was no way they would have her.

  Better they kill her first.

  She would never submit quietly to an attacker again.

  At least that was her thought until something coiled around her throat and lifted her off her feet. She landed on her back, against the floor, so hard it knocked the breath out of her.

  "You'll pay for that, bitch," Chenz said through clenched, rotting teeth, coiling the metallic rope even tighter around her neck.

  Kiara gasped for air as the rope bit into her flesh, choking it from her. Desperately, she tried to pry or claw the rope free. She kicked her feet and attempted to scream.

  Not even a whisper left her bruised lips.

  She was dead, she knew it.

  "Kill her, Chenz!" The taller man rubbed his chest where she'd kicked him, his eyes burning with smug satisfaction.

  The rope tightened even more.

  Kiara's sight dimmed as she struggled to stay alive. I will not die like this. I won't! The words rolled around her head, becoming her mantra as she fought with everything she had.

  She pulled at the rope.

  Just as she thought Chenz would finish her off, the noose loosened. Kiara gulped air into her burning lungs as she coughed and sputtered. Her vision dim, her head buzzed loudly. She rubbed her neck, feeling the welts left by the rough texture.

  Chenz wrapped his hands in her long, dark reddish brown hair and reeled her to him. "Your life's nothing to us, girly. But how you treat us in the next few minutes will decide if we kill you quick or make it real painful."

  She choked at the stench of his breath falling against her cheek. Before she could think of a retort, his wet, scarred lips covered hers.

  Kiara gagged.

  "Why you . . ." He drew back to hit her again.

  A sharp lurch in the ship sent them tumbling.

  An instant later, a loud warning siren blared.

  "We're being attacked." The tall man ran out of the room at a deadly pace.

  Before Kiara could move, Chenz grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to a rusted steel beam in the wall. Still coughing, she tried to fight him as he handcuffed her there, but she was too weak from her beating and from her near strangulation to do the damage to him she wanted to.

  "You worthless bastard!" she snarled, an instant before she tried to bite him.

  He grabbed her jaw and shoved her back against the wall so hard, it blinded her for a moment. "I'll finish with you when this is over," he promised, his fingers biting fiercely into her face as he twisted her mouth with his hand. Giving her a lecherous sneer, he released her and ran to join his partner.

  The door slammed down, jarring the room.

  Kiara let out a loud, frustrated scream as she jerked so hard against the steel cuffs that it cut through her skin. Insane with her fear, anger, and determination, she yanked, not caring if she lost a hand in the process. All that mattered was getting free.

  "I will not die here!" she shouted as her childhood nightmare tried to weaken her.

  Do as they say, Kiara. Don't fight them. Her mother's voice whispered to her from the distant past. It'll be okay, precious, I promise.

  But it hadn't been. All their compliance had gotten them was a brutal execution. Her mother had died before her eyes--a single shot to her head and Kiara had been shot three times by her father's political enemies before they'd left her for dead, too.

  Only eight years old . . .

  Her trusting innocence had been shattered that day. And when she'd finally recovered from her physical wounds, she'd made a solemn vow to herself that no one would ever again control her.

  No one.

  She would never obey anyone except herself and she would never again be a victim.

  Yet the cuffs remained. No matter how hard

she fought, no matter how hard she tried, they weren't budging.

  Unable to deal with it, she slid slowly to the floor and banged her head against the wall so that the pain would override her hysteria. "Don't you dare cry," she growled at herself. "Don't you dare."

  Boo-hoo-hoo, their leader had maliciously mocked her while they held her and her mother captive. Cry all you want to, little girl. Daddy's not coming to save you. I love nothing more than the sound of someone's fear. The sound of someone begging me for their life. Life is pain, bitch. Too bad you won't live long enough to get used to it.

  Never since the day of her mother's funeral had she shed even a single tear. And she wasn't about to let the worthless scum who had her now break her.

  She was stronger than that.

  The lights dimmed and the ship tumbled hard to the left as a shot broke through whatever force field they had.

  For the briefest moment, she thought it might be her father with a rescue party. But she knew better. He was still at the consulate meeting and thought her safely guarded in the dance company's hotel rooms.

  Just like that fateful day when she and her mother had been taken out of the winter palace, her father had no idea she was under attack. He wouldn't know until he was notified of her death.

  You can't protect yourself. No matter how safe you think you are. No matter how much precaution you take, the rodents always find a way in . . . She'd written those words in her own diary when she'd been sixteen and an assassin had taken a shot at her while she was eating dinner with friends in a restaurant. Even surrounded by guards and with her father beside her, she'd almost died that night, too.

  Her life was nothing but a paycheck to the scum of the universe and they intended to cash it out fully.

  Unshed tears choked her as she realized the hopelessness of her situation. She would die out here in space, raped and tortured. Alone. The only hope she had was that whoever was attacking them, destroyed them.

  Please let it be painless . . .

  Unlike her mother's death.

  That had been as slow and painful as the mercenaries could make it. They had tortured her for days before they finally ended her life--and those screams for mercy for her and her daughter had been forever seared into Kiara's mind.

  The things they'd done to her mother.

  The things they'd done to her . . .

  Her throat tightened even more as she listened to the sounds of battle. The old walls of the shuttle creaked ominously. Blast after blast struck the craft and kept it rocking beneath her. This rusted-out ship wouldn't be able to sustain much more damage. It was a miracle it'd taken as much as it had.

  Closing her eyes, she prayed for a quick death.

  But that relief didn't come either.

  Instead, she heard the popping of damaged electrical circuits in the hallway. By now, all the power to the doors had been drained and transferred to the ship's weapons and shields.

  The lights went out.

  Kiara sat in total darkness as she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable. There were no more sounds of lasers being shot from this ship.

  The end was near now.

  God, how she was going to miss her father and her dancing. Miss the sensation of the first warm spring breeze on her skin while she sat reading in her garden.

  Drawing a deep breath, she took control of her fear. She was a commander's child. Her father had been born in poverty and had climbed by his wits and skills through the ranks of the military to end up as president of their planet. While many might not like him, they all agreed on one thing. Her father was fearless and he'd given that courage to his only child. She would meet death calmly, with dignity. Whatever it took, she would not beg or plead.

  "I will do my parents proud."

  Suddenly everything was completely still and silent. The odor of burning wires and smoke filtered into her room. Kiara coughed from the smoke until her throat burned again.

  Outside there was the sound of approaching feet and then blast shots. She tensed, but whoever it was quickly ran past her room.

  She continued to try and work her bloodied hands out of the cuffs.

  At least until she heard someone else outside her door.

  Her heart pounded in short, staccato beats at the sizzling sound of a laser torch cutting through the steel.

  "I'm checking it out now," a man's voice said from the hallway in the Universal language that allowed the Empire to communicate with all sentient species. It was deep and accented, but she couldn't place the muffled tone. "There's some life-form in here about the size of a small human. Might even be another child . . . I just want to make--"

  He was silent for a few seconds as he continued to cut through the steel. "Ah, screw you, Hauk. Some of us aren't the same low-bred animal you are . . ." He paused as if listening to something before he barked, "Hell no, I'm not sober. You think I'd be doing this shit if I were? And I notice I don't see your fat ass down here in the trenches so shut it before I forget I'm supposed to actually like you."

  What in the known galaxies? He didn't sound like a rescuer. He didn't even sound nice.

  Kiara wasn't sure if her situation was about to become better or . . .

  A whole lot worse.

  There was a loud pop just before a large piece of the door fell in. It landed with a clatter as smoke wafted up from the irregular circle.

  Her stomach knotted into a cold lump.

  Light from a small hand torch traveled about the room, stopping as it illuminated her.

  Despite the pain of her adjusting eyes, she tried to see beyond the light, to whomever held it, but all she saw was a large, black blob.

  The blob stepped through the hole and entered her room.

  Kiara tucked her legs under her so that she could quickly rise to her feet if she needed to. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple. She tensed, ready to strike out with whatever resistance her battered, tired body could muster.

  The overhead lights returned, burning her eyes. She blinked several times and the blob turned into a soldier dressed in a black battle suit that was covered with a padded flight jacket. A dense, black helmet covered his face, preventing her from seeing what race he belonged to. No insignia or flag marked his uniform in any way.

  Who was he?

  What was he?

  Human? Humanoid? Or some other creature she could only guess at?

  She stared at him, still uncertain whether he would help her, or harm her more. Until she knew the answer, she would play docile, lulling him into thinking her harmless. And if he did intend to hurt her, she would knee him hard in that part of his anatomy that men prided themselves on most and hope that whatever his species, it had the desired effect.

  But he didn't move closer.

  To her surprise, he shut off the torch and slid it into a pocket on his right leg. He moved slowly, as if trying to reassure her of his intent. He unstrapped his helmet from the lines securing it to his battle suit and removed it.

  Kiara was amazed by the handsomeness of his face. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled into a ponytail and two small, silver hoops dangled from his left earlobe--the same ear that held an earpiece and mic so that he was still communicating with whomever he'd been talking to earlier. His dark eyes were encircled by thick black eyeliner--something that made him look savage and dangerous. A common habit among thieves and criminals.

  His gaze moved slowly over her body, taking in every detail with an accuracy a mecha would envy.

  When he looked back at her face, she saw pity and concern. "I'm Syn," he said gently in the Universal language as if coaxing a skittish kitten. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

  For some reason she couldn't fathom, she believed him, even though there was an air about him that said he could be lethal if need be.

  Relief poured through her.

  Syn moved toward her cautiously and the kindness of his actions choked her. "Can you understand me?"

  She realized his accent was Ritadarion, an allied planet to her own. "Yes."

  He nodded as he removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "Everything's all right, we'll take you home." He knelt down to examine the cuffs and grimaced as he saw how bloodied and bruised her wrists were.

  She hissed as one of the cuts rubbed against the steel. Now that she was safe and no longer consumed with terror, the throbbing pain of them was excruciating. "We have a bit of a problem with those."

  "So I see. You were definitely determined to get free, weren't you?"

  Nodding, she could smell the alcohol on his breath, yet he appeared completely sober to her. There was no hesitancy or unbalance to him at all.

  "I have a feeling you would have been equally determined to escape had they locked you in here."

  A light of amusement played in his dark eyes as he pulled a pair of cutters out of another pocket. Smiling at her, he twirled them around before positioning them over the chain.

  His light air died an instant later.

  He tapped at his earpiece to open the channel. "You did what?" he snarled at whomever was on the other end. "Damn it, Cruel, you stupid, son of a . . . I've got a prisoner here who I'm trying to cut loose from a set of cuffs. Couldn't you have given me a little warning first? I swear to the gods . . . If I live through this you're a bad memory . . . And you assholes wonder why I do this shit flagged. How long?"

  Kiara swallowed hard as dread washed through her. "How long for what?"

  "Three minutes?" Syn growled. "I hate you. I really, really hate you." He let out another curse as he tried frantically to cut through the cuffs.

  "They're military grade," she told him. It would take something a lot more powerful than his tool to cut through them. "The ship's about to blow, isn't it?"

  He gave her a look that confirmed it as he pulled at the chain that linked the cuffs together. Yeah, right, like he could break it with his bare hands.

  She was dead after all.

  Her heart sank painfully into her stomach. She couldn't believe she'd come so close to freedom to lose it all again. She covered his hand with hers. "Go on while you can. And thank you for at least trying to save me."

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