Born of Night
Page 19
Where was the building's security? Her father's? Had the men outside killed them already?
She prayed.
With a cloud of smoke and a loud triumphant shout, a group of men came through the door. Syn fired, killing the first two. He made a holy gesture to his lips and ran into the chaos of the hallway.
She couldn't believe her eyes.
Was he insane?
The sound of insults, curses, laser fire, and blaster shots echoed.
Nykyrian wrapped his right arm around her waist like a safety belt, then pulled her to her feet. "Stay under the cloak."
She trembled in fear, praying she wouldn't trip and cost them their lives. Nykyrian held her against him, his body shielding her from the blasters' fire. She stumbled against him as he led her into the smoke-infested hallway.
He fired his blaster. His arm tightened around her. In spite of her fear, she wanted to see what was happening.
"Don't look," Nykyrian said calmly before pulling her behind him. He spun around and fired at something behind them.
He led her down the corridor, away from the lift. Kicking open the stairwell, he scanned the stairs, then pushed her through the door. He pulled a device from his pocket and used it to seal the door closed behind them.
"Wait here, I need--"
"Don't leave me!" Kiara locked her hands on his forearm as the horror of her mother's death poured through her. "Please!"
Nykyrian's throat tightened at the sound of fear in her trembling voice. Taking a deep breath, he took her hand and led her down the stairs and into the landing bay in the basement of the building.
Kiara's entire body was shaking so badly that she was terrified of falling on her face. Nykyrian on the other hand looked as if he were just out for a stroll. "How can you be so calm?"
He shrugged and continued leading her behind the docked shuttles and parked transports. "Either we'll make it, or they'll kill us. If they kill us, they can't torture us. It's a win-win situation."
She didn't find that funny at all.
Then, she heard them. They were calling to each other as they swept the area, looking for her and Nykyrian.
Nykyrian covered her lips with his finger and motioned her into the shadows of the landing bay.
As the assassin several yards away moved on, out of range, Nykyrian removed his finger from her lips. "Listen," he whispered in her ear, pulling her close enough so that the sound amps the assassins would be using wouldn't pick up his voice. "I have to leave you alone. Just for a few minutes, I promise. I have to clear the sentries from my ship or we'll never make it out of here, okay?"
She rubbed the chills on her arms. "I'm scared."
"Don't be." He handed her a small blaster. "If I go down, Syn will be here in a matter of seconds. You won't get hurt. I swear it." He touched the comlink in his ear. "Syn? Location."
Nykryian nodded in response to whatever answer Syn gave him. "Stay there. I'm about to do something you can't be a part of." Clicking it off, he reached his gloved hand out to cup her cheek with a tenderness he'd never shown her before. "Courage, mu Tara. They won't take you today."
Then he was gone.
Kiara crouched down behind the fighter, straining her ears to hear what was going on. Footsteps returned and she pressed herself deeper into the shadows. After a second, she found a hidden spot that allowed her to watch as Nykyrian flipped himself onto a transport.
Nykyrian took a second to tuck his coat into the clips that would keep it out of the way of his reaching for his weapons. He removed his earpiece and slid it into his front pocket. He couldn't afford to have his hearing impaired in any way. With everything in place, he moved atop the ships as silent as the specter for which he'd been named.
From his hearing, he deduced there were roughly fifteen assassins in the bay. The most concerning for him were the two together by his ship and one roaming about to his left.
He ID'd the targets and his ship, then glanced back to where Kiara was hiding as he made the necessary mental calculations on time, distance, and how many he'd have to kill to get out of this alive.
Time to do business.
He rolled off the ship and came to a standing position between the two assassins.
One spun to face him, the man's mouth falling open and moving spastically like a fish. The man gasped before bringing his weapon up. Nykyrian let fly the knife in his left hand, then spun about to catch the second assassin before the soldier could shoot him in the back. The throwing knives caught them both in the throat, piercing their necks completely and cutting off their windpipes which ensured they wouldn't be able to call for help.
Nykyrian took a second to make sure they were both dead and then drained their blasters. He retrieved his knives, wiping them clean on the bodies before he swept forward with them in hand.
A chill raised the hair on the back of his neck.
"I've got your bitch, freak!"
Nykyrian clenched his teeth in frustration at a voice that had haunted him in his youth. It wasn't Aksel.
It was worse.
His much more demented younger brother.
"Turn yourself over to Aksel, and I might let her go."
"Yeah, right," Nykyrian muttered, resetting his blaster for a stronger and smaller shot. "And I'm a one-legged dung dealer."
Damn. How had Arast found her?
His hearing was not what it used to be.
Nykyrian skirted around the ships until he was where the idiot stood, his blaster aimed at Kiara's head. Her face was a mask of complete terror, but her eyes were dry. That look tore through him and he hated the little son of a bitch for making her feel like that.
Arast jerked in a nervous circle as he looked around for Nykyrian. "Hybrid! You have one minute before I spray her brains all over the pavement."
"Nykyrian, run!" Kiara shouted bravely.
That was almost enough to make him laugh.
He'd never run a day in his life and he damn sure wasn't going to run from the maggot holding her.
Arast tightened his grip around her throat. "Another word, harita, and I'll snap your neck."
Kiara let loose a dry sob before she regained control of herself.
Nykyrian knew he had one chance and one chance only. "You want a piece of me, Ari?"
Arast spun around, looking for the direction it came from. "Where are you, hybrid?"
He moved before he answered that to keep Arast from pinpointing his location. "It's not where I am that should concern you, brother. It's where my knife is going to land if you don't let her go and put your weapon down."
"And let you shoot me?" Arast laughed sadistically. "I'm not stupid."
"About as smart as my boots," Nykyrian muttered, doubting his own intelligence for letting the imbecile get the drop on him.
"Send me your blaster or I'll kill her right now!" Arast really was an idiot. Did he think a blaster was needed? Or that he only had one?
Damn, the money spent on Academy training had been seriously wasted on that piece of shit. No wonder The League had tossed his ass out.
Might as well humor the punk. Nykyrian slid his blaster across the floor. The hollow, piercing sound of metal against pavement grated against his sensitive ears.
Arast laughed in triumph.
Laugh it up, lardass. It's one of the last sounds you're going to make.
A wave of inevitability settled over him. Nykyrian had always known it would come to this one day. In all honesty, he was surprised it'd taken so long to get here.
Now it wasn't his life they threatened, it was Kiara's. For that alone, they would die. He'd done his best to avoid killing them out of respect for . . . hell if he really knew.
But today Arast and Aksel had crossed the line for the last time.
So be it.
Nykyrian started forward.
An assassin came at him. "Arast, I got--"
His words died as Nykyrian swung around and killed him before he could even finish the next syllable. Deat
Arast started sweating. "Kero? You there, man?"
"Dead," Nykyrian said. "Let her go, Ari, and you'll get the chance you've been waiting for."
"Come on, you worthless bastard. I'm ready." Arast slung Kiara away from him.
Nykyrian walked calmly out of the shadows with his hands held out to his sides, away from his body. "You have one shot before I kill you, Ari. You better make it count."
Kiara bit back a scream as the next few seconds happened so fast she could barely follow their sequence. But the one thing that stood out vividly was the cold-blooded grace of Nykyrian's movements.
Assassins came out of nowhere to attack him. He spun, his coat flaring out with an eerie beauty, and shot two with a blaster strike before he holstered it and caught the ones nearest him with his hands. In a terrifying death ballet, he used his knives to cut their throats and bring them down one by one until the only ones standing were him and the man he obviously knew.
Arast.
Her abductor aimed for his head and shot. Nykyrian dodged the blast and rolled on the ground before he came to rest in a graceful crouch. He launched two knives that spun toward Arast and landed in his shoulders.
Arast screamed out. He tried to lift his blaster toward Nykyrian and couldn't. He grabbed a knife and went for Nykyrian, who caught his hand as soon as he reached him, and head-butted him back.
Arast shrieked in frustration. "You're a freak. I should have killed you while you slept."
Nykyrian's tone was even and flat. "Yes, you should have." He snapped Arast's arm with a sickening sound.
With his good arm, Arast brought his blaster up to aim for Nykyrian's heart, but before he could pull the trigger, Nykyrian caught him about the head and twisted. Kiara cringed at the sound of grinding bone a split second before blood gushed out of the assassin's mouth and he crumpled slowly to the ground to rest at Nykyrian's feet.
Nykyrian knelt down and felt for a pulse. Satisfied Arast was dead, he pulled his knives out of the man's body, wiped the blood off on the sleeve of his coat and sheathed them without so much as hesitating.
Kiara's heart pounded in fear. For the first time, she fully realized what Nykyrian really was and what he could do. She'd known what the term "assassin" meant, but his kindness toward her these past few days had dulled the brutality of that word.
He'd let Pitala and his partner go.
Twice.
But this . . .
She looked at the bodies he'd left in his wake. At least a dozen men were now soaking in pools of blood. The last minute of horror and pain was permanently etched into their features.
The stench of blood clung to Nykyrian, choking her.
This was cold and it was brutal. Most of all, it brought home exactly what sort of creature he really was. One who brutally killed without hesitation or remorse.
"We have to go." Nykyrian held his hand out to her. "The others are coming."
She couldn't move as she stared at him with new sight. He was ruthless. It was one thing to know he could kill. Another to see him do it.
He'd snapped a human being's neck with his bare hands and it hadn't affected him at all.
How could he have wiped their blood off on his own sleeve without even cringing?
He'd killed them with the same knives he'd used to prepare her meal . . .
For a minute, she thought she'd be sick.
"Kiara. We have to leave. There are others here and it won't take them long to find us." He hauled her by her arm to his ship.
Somehow, she managed to climb up the ladder and seat herself in the cockpit. Her heart hammered in her chest as he joined her while she continued to stare at the bodies on the ground.
Nykyrian wasn't even breathing hard . . .
He'd just strapped them in when his body went rigid.
She looked up to see more soldiers entering the bay. Nykyrian flipped switches in front of her with that same calmness that was now disturbing to her. The engines fired with a deafening roar as lights danced across his control panel.
In true battle formation, the assassins took up positions to fire at them. One man stood out at the head of the group, glaring at her and Nykyrian with a handsome, cold face that mirrored cruelty and hatred.
He made a military gesture at Nykyrian that was unmistakable. You and me to the death.
Nykyrian made an obscene gesture back at him before he launched the ship.
Aksel growled in frustration as his men fired uselessly on the Arcana, knowing Nykyrian had once more slipped from his grasp. The bastard and his slut flew right over their heads.
In that moment, he wanted to rip apart every soldier with him. He slammed his fist into the face of the assassin who was dumb enough to be closest to his arm's reach. "You fucking women. Worthless! All of you!"
It was then he noticed the body of his baby brother lying dead on the ground a few feet away. Raw, unmitigated fury tore through him.
"Find them!" he snarled at his men. "I will have that hybrid's life, or your own!"
Shoving them 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. And when he did, that freak of nature would beg like a sniveling child wanting a toy.
The princess was just bonus pay.
CHAPTER 15
Kiara trembled in shock and fear. Over and over, she saw Nykyrian breaking the assassin's neck, heard the snapping of bones, saw the look of horror on the man's face as he realized Nykyrian had killed him . . .
It'd been grisly and cold.
The blood on Nykyrian's clothes . . . Dear God, he'd callously wiped their blood on his own sleeve. A sleeve she stared at as he flew them to wherever they were headed.
He was absolutely stoic over the horror of it all. What kind of monster could do such a thing and not feel even a twinge of something? He'd treated it with no more emotion than someone putting on their shoes.
Those memories merged with the ones of her mother's death--the way the assassins had mocked them both and ruthlessly beat her mother while terrifying her. It made her sick and confused and terrified.
She just wanted to run away. To find a place where things like this didn't happen.
Where people like Nykyrian didn't exist.
There's no place safe. Not for you.
The truth scalded her.
Not since that beautiful spring morning when she'd been eight years old, eating in the garden with her mother before they'd been kidnapped, had she felt safe.
She struggled for her sanity and a way to grasp what had just happened.
Nykyrian felt her pain as he flew them to the neighboring planet where Syn lived. He knew he should say something to her, but he didn't know what. He remembered the first time he'd killed someone. The horror of it still haunted him. That moment when his vic had realized the blow was fatal.
Over time, he'd become so acquainted with the blood and gore that it no longer fazed him at all. It was a tragic waste, but everyone died.
Better them than him.
Kiara clutched her mouth to keep from being sick as he banked and her stomach lurched. He finally docked his fighter in the attached bay of a high-rise building.
The scent of warm, sticky blood, of death, clung to him.
When he moved his hand away from the controls, his gloved handprint, in blood, was right there in front of her.
He was completely oblivious to it.
Bile choked her.
"We need to go."
She tried to rise from the seat, but her limbs wouldn't cooperate.
Gently, Nykyrian wrapped his arms around her and carried her through the bay, up the lift, and into an immaculate apartment on the top floor that had a breathtaking view of the bustling city below. There was something hauntingly familiar about Nykyrian's actions, something her subconscious told her to pay attention to, but she was too upset to catch it.
Inside the apartment, everything was perfectly clean. Sterile. Most of all, it was huge. The main room alone was bigger than her entire flat. But even so, the furnishings were sparse.
"Where are we?"
His answer was dispassionate. "Syn's."
She shook her head. No one would ever dream this elegant place belonged to another killer--like them, on the surface, it appeared so . . .
Normal.
There was a black desk, with nothing on top of it, set against the wall, turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. A highly polished white piano faced out toward the balcony. In the middle of the room, perfectly positioned, were two black leather sofas and a small black table that contrasted sharply with the white walls and carpeting.
And as she hurriedly skimmed the room, she realized why the walls and carpet were white. It was so that no color would compete with the expensive art pieces he'd collected . . . or maybe stolen.
Truly it was a master's collection. From the paintings on the walls to the statues and other objets d'art scattered about. A museum would kill to have a collection this extensive.
Along the far wall was a fully stocked bar with bottles of whisky and wine she knew went for over a thousand credits each.
The only personal photo in the room was set on the corner of the bar's black countertop. Nestled in the arms of a well-loved stuffed lorina was a frame that showed a slideshow of a small boy.
The incongruity of that sight actually stunned her. Syn had a son? Surely he didn't live here with him.
Did he?
More to the point, did he know what his father was?
How could these people have families?
Without faltering, Nykyrian reset the security system. The latest and most expensive system made. A DNA skimmer that wouldn't allow anyone inside unless the scanner recognized them. Proof that the man who lived here was as fierce and dangerous as the one holding her.
Kiara wanted the strength to push Nykyrian away, to bathe the smell of blood from her body. She wasn't sure if she'd ever feel clean again.
He took her straight to the bathroom and set her down on the floor before the toilet. Raising the lid for her convenience, he stood back as she unloaded all the contents of her stomach.
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