feared she'd be sick.
Without breaking stride, Nykyrian led her to the back door and out into the street.
He hailed a transport.
Kiara stepped inside the car, pushing herself as far over in the seat as she could. She just
wanted to fade into obscurity and never be bothered or hunted again.
Nykyrian gave her address to the computer.
She went cold with dread. "How do you know where I live?"
"At the moment, all mercenaries know. The Probekeins have been listing your name and
address for the last week on their bounty sheets."
Her hands trembled. All this time, she had deluded herself into thinking she was safe.
Could her life truly be that precarious?
Her stomach knotted even more as she thought about the dead soldiers. She had killed
them. Had it not been for her, they would still be alive.
The Probekeins wanted her dead and anyone near her could be the next victim. "Aren't you afraid to be with me?" she asked quietly.
"Afraid?" he asked in a shocked whisper.
"The next assassin could kill you by accident."
Nykyrian shook his head. "Allow me to assure you, if anyone kills me, it won't be by
accident. The contract on your life is paltry when compared to mine."
Kiara nodded, unable to speak around the clump of tears in her throat. Here she sat, next
to a true mercenary, a brutal killer if the truth were spoken. Why was he helping her?
"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice shook from the strain and fear of her words.
He sighed. "If I had that intention, I would never have returned you to your father."
"But why are you protecting me? I thought mercenary assassins were only motivated by
money."
Nykyrian rubbed his right hand over his left biceps. "You haven't met enough of us to
make that assumption."
Kiara conceded he was right. "You avoided my question. Why are you helping me?"
His hand stopped. He looked away from her. "Maybe I'm a fan."
"Are you?"
"Yes."
Kiara stared at him too shocked and confused to feel anything. Nykyrian sat so still next
to her, he seemed ethereal. His blond hair was loose, spilling over his shoulders. As
before, the dark glasses obscured his face, giving her no real idea what he looked like.
"Who are you?" she asked, needing to know.
Nykyrian shrugged. "Never figured it out, It takes too much time to think about myself,
and time is one luxury I don't own."
Kiara fell silent, thinking, remembering. "I killed those guards you know."
Her words seemed to soften some of his rigidness. "The Probekeins killed them."
Kiara shook her head, her tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, they were protecting me."
Nykyrian sighed again and looked in her direction. "They were soldiers. Death is nothing more than the hazards of the business. They knew the risks."
His words cut through her. "How can you be so cold?" she said with a sob. "They were people with families."
Nykyrian stared at her. Even in the flickering, faint light, he saw her tears sparkling
against her cheeks. He knew her pain, her guilt.
Again, a need to comfort her consumed him. Pushing his desire away, he looked back out
the window. "I'm a soldier. Emotions are bred out of us during training."
Kiara scoffed. "You are a mercenary. There is a difference."
"True. Mercenaries are better paid."
Frustration welled up inside Kiara. How could she ever have thought Nykyrian to be
different. He was of the same caliber as Pitala. Would he hold a blaster to her head if
given the right amount of money?
The thought chilled her.
Her dreams were a warning to her that she couldn't trust him. Trust belonged to the past.
She had trusted the dance company's security to protect her in the hotel and she'd been
abducted. She had trusted her father's soldiers and she'd almost been killed. Never again
would she be so foolish.
Nykyrian would have to be watched.
The transport stopped outside her building. Nykyrian exited first and scanned the street.
After a minute, he helped her from the car.
Without breaking stride, Nykyrian led her to the back door and out into the street.
He hailed a transport.
Kiara stepped inside the car, pushing herself as far over in the seat as she could. She just
wanted to fade into obscurity and never be bothered or hunted again.
Nykyrian gave her address to the computer.
She went cold with dread. "How do you know where I live?"
"At the moment, all mercenaries know. The Probekeins have been listing your name and
address for the last week on their bounty sheets."
Her hands trembled. All this time, she had deluded herself into thinking she was safe.
Could her life truly be that precarious?
Her stomach knotted even more as she thought about the dead soldiers. She had killed
them. Had it not been for her, they would still be alive.
The Probekeins wanted her dead and anyone near her could be the next victim. "Aren't you afraid to be with me?" she asked quietly.
"Afraid?" he asked in a shocked whisper.
"The next assassin could kill you by accident."
Nykyrian shook his head. "Allow me to assure you, if anyone kills me, it won't be by
accident. The contract on your life is paltry when compared to mine."
Kiara nodded, unable to speak around the clump of tears in her throat. Here she sat, next
to a true mercenary, a brutal killer if the truth were spoken. Why was he helping her?
"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice shook from the strain and fear of her words.
He sighed. "If I had that intention, I would never have returned you to your father."
"But why are you protecting me? I thought mercenary assassins were only motivated by
money."
Nykyrian rubbed his right hand over his left biceps. "You haven't met enough of us to
make that assumption."
Kiara conceded he was right. "You avoided my question. Why are you helping me?"
His hand stopped. He looked away from her. "Maybe I'm a fan."
"Are you?"
"Yes."
Kiara stared at him too shocked and confused to feel anything. Nykyrian sat so still next
to her, he seemed ethereal. His blond hair was loose, spilling over his shoulders. As
before, the dark glasses obscured his face, giving her no real idea what he looked like.
"Who are you?" she asked, needing to know.
Nykyrian shrugged. "Never figured it out, It takes too much time to think about myself,
and time is one luxury I don't own."
Kiara fell silent, thinking, remembering. "I killed those guards you know."
Her words seemed to soften some of his rigidness. "The Probekeins killed them."
Kiara shook her head, her tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, they were protecting me."
Nykyrian sighed again and looked in her direction. "They were soldiers. Death is nothing more than the hazards of the business. They knew the risks."
His words cut through her. "How can you be so cold?" she said with a sob. "They were people with families."
Nykyrian stared at her. Even in the flickering, faint light, he saw her tears sparkling
against her cheeks. He knew her pain, her guilt.
Again, a need to comfort her consumed him. Pushing his desire away, he looked back out
the window. "I'm a soldier. Emotions are bred out of us during training."
Kiara scoffed. "You are a mercenary. There is a difference."
"True. Mercenaries are better paid."
Frustration welled up inside Kiara. How could she ever have thought Nykyrian to be
different. He was of the same caliber as Pitala. Would he hold a blaster to her head if
given the right amount of money?
The thought chilled her.
Her dreams were a warning to her that she couldn't trust him. Trust belonged to the past.
She had trusted the dance company's security to protect her in the hotel and she'd been
abducted. She had trusted her father's soldiers and she'd almost been killed. Never again
would she be so foolish.
Nykyrian would have to be watched.
The transport stopped outside her building. Nykyrian exited first and scanned the street.
After a minute, he helped her from the car.
Similar Books
