* * * * *
"Are you going to return to the theatre?"
Kiara stopped mid stride on the busy street of shops and faced Tiyana. "I've told you a thousand times I'm through dancing."
"But why?" she insisted in a voice that made Kiara want to shake her.
Kiara sighed, running her hand over her flat belly, longing for the day when she would see proof of her baby. "There are other things more important to me now."
"Such as?"
She stiffened. "My baby for one."
"You can dance for a few more months, you know." Tiyana grabbed her arm and started walking down the street again. "You really should rethink all this. My God, I'd sell my soul for your fame."
Kiara opened her mouth to reply she would sell her soul to have Nykyrian back, but as she looked up, she saw Darling eating lunch inside the cafe they were passing. Shock riveted her to the sidewalk.
Without another word to Tiyana, she pulled her arm free and doubled back, a strange happy thrill rushing through her. Kiara entered the cafe, and hesitated. She blinked, still not sure her eyes were working.
"Darling?" she asked, nearing his table.
Darling looked up, startled. "Kiara?" he said, a smile spreading across his face as he stood. "I've been wondering what happened to you!"
Kiara wrapped her arms around him, bursting with happiness at finally seeing one of Nykyrian's friends again. "I wanted to see you, but I didn't know how to get in touch with any of you! What are you doing here?"
Darling smiled and gave her a tight squeeze. "Waiting on Caillen."
"Kiara?"
Kiara turned around and beamed a smile at Tiyana. "Tiyana, this is my friend, Darling."
They shook hands and Darling pulled a chair out for her. "It's really good to see you. After the way Nykyrian's been lately, I had started to think— "
"What?" Kiara gasped, the blood fleeing her face as cold dread crept along her spine. It couldn't be possible. Surely she hadn't heard him correctly.
Darling looked at her and his face turned the shade of his hair.
"Nykyrian's alive?" Kiara asked, half relieved and half enraged.
"I wasn't supposed to let that slip," Darling murmured.
Kiara's heart lurched. She couldn't believe it. No, it wasn't true. If Nykyrian lived, he would have come for her. "I saw him killed," she insisted, remembering the sight of Nykyrian recoiling from the blasts, of his still body lying in blood, the sound of the soldier's voice claiming he was dead.
Darling licked his lips and glanced at Tiyana. "He was severely wounded, but a couple of OMG members helped him get home."
Kiara gripped the edge of the table with trembling hands, her thoughts tumbling through her mind. Nykyrian was alive and he didn't want her. All this time, she had told herself he loved her, yet he hadn't even bothered to tell her he was alive!
She ground her teeth together in rage. "I see," she said at last, her voice as icy as the bitter feeling consuming her.
She stood and extended her hand to Darling. "It was nice seeing you today. I wish I could spend more time with you, but I'm afraid I have to call my manager and accept a job."
Kiara sensed Tiyana's confusion as Kiara rushed out of the cafe and back into the crowded street, Tiyana hot on her heels.
"What gives?" Tiyana asked, glancing back in the direction of the cafe. "Who was that guy?"
Kiara seethed. "He's no one." She stormed off through the crowd, wishing she could see Nykyrian again so she could shoot him herself! "I can't believe I wasted my time and effort! My career!"
"What?"
Kiara glared at Tiyana. "Nothing. I'm fine and I'm coming out of retirement!"
* * * * *
Nykyrian stroked Ulf's soft belly while he watched a taped performance of one of Kiara's ballets. His heart was heavy. He knew he should go after her—needed to go after her, he corrected himself— but he couldn't.
And if being without Kiara wasn't hell enough, Rachol was missing, too. His flat had been torn apart and no one had any clue who had done it. They had been searching for weeks, but no one could find a trace to Rachol's whereabouts.
Pain gripped him and Nykyrian tossed back another gulp of grenna. He was alone just like he had always wanted to be. But he had never guessed just how painful true solitude was. He sighed in weary frustration. Kiara was performing tonight on Gouran.
A sliver of satisfaction crept over him. His threats had worked. Nemesis had been able to intimidate the Probekeins enough to where they revoked their contract. Kiara had her life back. A life that didn't need or deserve him.
There was so much he wished he could tell Kiara. If he could just touch her body one last time . . .
Aw hell, what did it matter? He had spent his whole life wishing for what could've been. As Rachol would say if he were here, Nykyrian had two choices. He could either continue to wallow in his useless self-pity or he could try to see Kiara. Neither option seemed promising at the moment. Sighing again, Nykyrian went to refill his glass.
* * * * *
Lights flashed in Kiara's face, blinding her. She turned her head away and made a few quotable responses to the reporters as she pried her way between them to her dressing room.
After her brief, mysterious disappearance, she seemed to be the hottest topic in the media. Well let them gossip. What did she care anyway? Just wait until they learned about her baby, then they really would swarm her for juicy tidbits.
With a weary sigh, she fell into her room and closed the door against the overzealous reporters. Leaning against the door, she took several calming breaths.
She wondered how she had ever enjoyed dancing, and if she would ever enjoy it again. All the back-biting politics and eager young dancers out to bring a performer down, all the two-faced promoters who wanted to make a sola with one hand and shove the other down her dress. She was tired of it.
Pushing herself away from the door, she grabbed a towel from her dressing table and wiped the perspiration from her brow.
"Kiara?"
She froze, knowing the voice that continued to haunt her dreams. Nykyrian stepped out of the shadows. She stared at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the tenseness around his lips. Stubble lined his handsome face as if he hadn't shaved in several days.
Despite her anger and pain, her body throbbed with desire. How could she still want to make love to him after what he had done to her? He had abandoned her and their baby without so much as a good-bye!
"What do you want?" she snapped.
He reached his hand out to touch her, then drew it back. "I wanted to explain."
She turned away and jerked the zipper down the back of her costume, cursing as it caught in her hair and ripped out several strands. "I don't want to hear it!" she snarled, facing him. "You let me think you were dead!"
As expected, his face was impassive.
Tears coursed down Kiara's cheeks at the memory of his supposed death, and her temper flamed even higher. "I thought you were dead because of me! How could you do such a thing?"
He looked away and brushed his hand through his hair. "Don't you think I suffered?" His voice was a faint, impartial whisper that barely reached her. "I almost did die."
"I wished to God you had!"
His jaw twitched, but he showed no other reaction. Without a word, he disappeared through the open doors of the balcony. Kiara told herself she was glad he was gone. She didn't want to see him after what he had done. He had left her. Her heart didn't listen.
"Nykyrian!" she called, running to the balcony, but it was too late.
The street below was as empty as her soul, her life.
A light breeze rippled through her hair while she stood there trying to find him, reminding her of gentle fingers that used to play there instead.
* * * * *
Kiara took a deep breath, relieved to finally be finished with the talk-show interview. Her father and Tiyana walked down the station's glaring white hallway by her side, cha
tting away about the success of her return to the theatre, their feet tapping a solemn rhythm on the gray porcelain floor.
Kiara rubbed the chills from her arms. What she wouldn't give to go back to the solitude and peace she had at Nykyrian's. She missed making love to him with the stars twinkling over them.
"Are you all right?" her father asked, his voice warm in concern.
Her father had become much more understanding in the last few weeks, but he still refused to call the baby anything more personal than "it." Kiara had ceased to be angry with her father. Now her anger stayed focused on another source, one who had gorgeous blond hair and dimples, one she would really like to kill.
"Just tired," she said, shifting her cloak around her shoulders.
Kiara caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned just in time to see the blaster level at her chest. A scream rippled up through her lungs as her father pushed her out of the way. Pain, intense and throbbing, burst across her arm as she fell on the floor.
More shots fired, but she couldn't tell what was going on from her position under her father. Shouts filled the hallway and someone ran past her.
"Kiara?"
She blinked at Nykyrian's voice, the pain of her arm forgotten.
Her father rolled off of her with a snarl. Kiara tried to push herself away from Nykyrian, but he reached out and grabbed her arm in a steel hold she couldn't break.
"Release her!" her father roared, trying to pry Nykyrian's hand from her.
Nykyrian shook her father away and hauled her to her feet by her arm. With a feral curse, her father moved back towards them.
"Don't," Nykyrian said, leveling his blaster at her father's chest.
Her father froze, confusion in his eyes over what he should do.
Kiara struggled fiercely against Nykyrian's hold until she saw the blood covering her upper body. Cold dread and fear consumed her. Her baby!
"I've been shot?" she gasped, unable to comprehend why she didn't feel more pain.
Nykyrian lifted her up off the floor, tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted down the hallway. More shots were fired at them. In stunned disbelief at what was happening, Kiara remained silent, praying her wound wouldn't endanger her baby.
Out of nowhere, Hauk appeared, firing his blaster. "I've got you covered," he shouted to Nykyrian. "Get her out of here."
Kiara felt Nykyrian hesitate for only a second before he opened the stairwell and ran down it as fast as he could with her slumped over him.
She squirmed, trying to get free. "Let go of me!" she shouted at last.
He paid no attention to her. Nykyrian finally put her down next to his ship, but his right hand stayed firmly on her arm while he holstered his blaster with his left.
Kiara fought against him, striking out at his arm with all her might. "I'm not going with you."
"Like hell you're not," he snapped, pulling her up against him so she couldn't hit him anymore. "Aksel's men have this place surrounded. Their mission is to capture you!"
"You're lying! There's no contract on me. I'm safe!"
The venomous look in his eyes chilled her. "It's me he's after and you're the bait he's going to use to lure me with."
Her blood left her cheeks. For a moment she thought he might be lying, but the cold seriousness of his face warned her of the truth. Numbed, she allowed him to push her up into his fighter and speed them away from Gouran.
"Where are you taking me?" she whispered, trying to staunch the blood coursing down her arm. "I need a doctor."
His rough hands ripped her dress away from the wound on her shoulder. "It's a flesh wound," he said, pulling a piece of cloth out from under their seat. "Hold this on it. It'll stop bleeding before we get home."
Kiara's lips trembled. He was angry, proof of it was in his hardened voice as he talked.
What had she done to him? She was the one with the right to be mad!
"I want to go home to Gouran," she insisted.
His hand tightened around his shifter. "You can't."
Kiara didn't bother arguing with him. She knew she'd get back home no matter what. She wasn't about to stay with him, not after he had abandoned her!
It took forever to get to his house. The hostile silence wore on her nerves, but Kiara knew breaking it would be even worse than bearing it.
Nykyrian led the way into the house. He didn't bother looking at her, or helping her with her wound. Kiara clenched her teeth in aggravation. She stood in the doorway between the bay and his house, her legs caressed by the lorinas.
Without looking at her, Nykyrian opened a closet in the kitchen and retrieved a medical bag. "Here," he said, pulling out antiseptic and a white cloth. He placed them on the table before heading up the stairs.
Kiara moved forward into the room, her body numb from everything that had happened to her.
Nykyrian paused in the doorway of his bedroom and turned to face her. Not a single emotion was portrayed from any pore of his body to signal her what was going through his mind. "You are to sleep in the viewing room," he said absently, then closed the door behind him with a loud thud.
Kiara gripped the bottle of antiseptic, wanting to throw it at his head. How dare he treat her this way! Fuming, she quickly set about tending her wound, all the while cursing the man upstairs.
It didn't take her long to clean the wound and bandage it. Nykyrian had been right, it wasn't much more than a scratch. With a heated glare at the dark walls upstairs, she made her way to the viewing room.
She paused in the doorway, seeing one of her gowns on the pulled-out bed. Even in anger, he watched out for her. Kiara's throat tightened. It would be so easy to rush upstairs and pound on the door until he opened it, but she couldn't.
God how she wanted him, burned for him. But he didn't care for her. If he did, he would never have allowed her to go through all those weeks of misery thinking he was dead. If only she knew what to do, what to say. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she sat on the edge of the bed, praying for some miracle that would smooth out the tattered edges of her life.
* * * * *
Nykyrian watched the stars above him. Kiara was finally quiet after hours of crying and cursing his soul. He tipped the bottle of alcohol back against his lips, letting the liquid burn down his throat. Rachol had been right, the stars were a hell of a lot more interesting when you were flagged than sober.
He sighed, aching for a friend he knew was dead, aching for a woman he knew he couldn't have. If Driana hadn't contacted Hauk this afternoon, Kiara would now be dead and it would have been all his fault. God, if he had been two seconds later this afternoon, she'd be captured or dead. His gut twisted. He took another swig of grenna. What a life.
Before he could stop himself, he left the room and headed down the stairs to Kiara's bed. He pushed open the door of the viewing room, careful not to make a sound.
His breathing intensified and desire pounded in his veins, demanding he do something more than just stand here like a gaping fool. But he knew tonight he wouldn't listen to the part of him that loved Kiara, that part of him which would die for her.
Bitter longing welled up inside him as he watched her chest rise and fall in peaceful sleep. She was lying on her side, her curly hair fanning out behind her.
His hand tingled with the memory of what those strands felt like. Nykyrian clenched his teeth. His body throbbed and for a moment, he feared he might yield to his wants after all.
"Nykyrian?" Kiara whispered, opening her eyes to look up at him with a pitiful, sad face.
He gripped the door frame in indecision. He had to let her go. Aksel was just one of a hundred assassins who would do anything to bring him down. Anything.
"Go back to sleep," he snarled and slammed the door.
Kiara stared at the portal, her heart breaking. Why had he come to her? Why did she care?
She placed her hand over her stomach, tempted to tell him about the baby, but she couldn't. With his present temperament, who knew
how he would react. The last thing she needed was an even more irate assassin roaming around the house while she slept.
Besides, it was her child she nurtured. A remembrance of a happy time she doubted would ever return.
* * * * *
"Aren't you ready yet?" Nykyrian growled as Kiara plaited the last piece of her hair.
"Stop snapping at me!"
So he glared at her instead.
Kiara ground her teeth together in aggravation. All he had done since he roughly woke her up was snap and hiss. "Where are you taking me anyway?"
"Out."
Disgusted, Kiara sighed. "You're such a fountain of information. Maybe you should consider a job in the media."
By his face, she could tell her sarcasm struck home. "If you're through making asinine comments, I'm supposed to be meeting someone."
Kiara froze. "Why are you taking me along?"
Anger and hatred blazed at her from his light green eyes. She took a step back, afraid of him. "Rachol's gone," he snarled. "I have no idea who knows about my house now. If I leave you here, with my luck someone will find you."
She frowned at him. "Rachol's gone?" she repeated, her body going numb. "What do you mean?"
Nykyrian pulled his coat on with irate jerks. "I mean he's vanished. No one has seen him in weeks and his flat was torn to pieces. We're assuming someone acted on your father's contract and killed him. I suppose I should go to your father's house to see if Rachol's head has been delivered to him as he requested."
"No," she whispered, unable to believe it. Tears gathered in her eyes as she thought about how much pain Nykyrian must be feeling, despite the coldness in his voice while he spoke.
Nykyrian curled his lip at her, his eyes blazing. "I wish I had killed your father instead of saving you."
Kiara sobbed at the bitterness in his voice. "Then why didn't you?"
"I don't know!" he roared. "I don't know why I do anything anymore."
Kiara reached to touch him, but he turned away. "Just get into the fighter and leave me alone."
The League 1: Born Of The Night Page 20