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."

She swallowed the knot in her throat as he turned to deliver a succession of fast, angryblows to the bag.

Kiara watched his hands pound into the rough canvas. "I'm sorry for my reaction, but what did you expect?"

His hand flew into the bag with a heavy thud that caused the chains suspending it from the ceiling to rattle. "I don't expect a damned thing from you. Just take your prissy," he pounded the bag, "spoiled," another forceful blow, "ass out of my sight before I show you just what Nemesis is capable of."

Kiara's common sense told her to leave, that he was too angry to talk to, but she couldn't.

Before she could rethink her actions, she crossed the room and pushed him away from the bag. He gave her an astonished look. The bag swung in an arc between them.

"You are going to talk to me!"

Nykyrian snorted. "Or what? Don't think for one minute you can do anything to me someone else hasn't done already."

Kiara lowered her gaze from his face as pain consumed her, wanting some way to break through his overdeveloped defenses. Then she saw his knuckles. She gasped at the blood dripping from his hands.

"What did you do?" she asked, crossing the distance between them to take his bleeding, swollen knuckles into her own hands.

"It doesn't hurt," he mumbled, trying to pull them away.

Kiara held on tightly. With a fierce frown she studied his eyes and there she saw his agony. He closed his eyes and pulled away.

"Nykyrian, talk to me, please. I swear I'll listen. I know you aren't capable of tearing someone apart."

Instead of the soothing effect she expected, her words angered him more. He spun on her with a snarl, pushing her back against the wall, his light eyes raging with emotions she couldn't decipher. Kiara gulped in fear, her whole body shaking.

"Do you really think I couldn't tear someone into pieces?" he ground out in rage. "I was trained to tear men apart so fast that they had the opportunity to see whatever organ I ripped out of them before they hit the floor dead!" His arms, braced on either side of her,tensed. "Have you ever held a beating heart in your hand? Felt the warm, sticky blood slide between your fingers while it pulsed."

Tears rolled down Kiara's cheeks. He had to have a soul, she had seen him do too many things that contradicted such brutality. "I asked you once if you enjoyed killing." She took a deep breath. "Do you?" He looked away from her.

For a moment, she didn't think he would answer, then he shook his head. "I hated it," he whispered, pushing himself away from her. "Every damned minute of it."

A glimmer of hope shot through her. "You haven't assassinated anyone since you left the League, have you?" He rubbed his right biceps, his hand hesitating over the League tattoo. "No."

Satisfaction tore through her and left her trembling. Kiara hesitated, remembering the news reports. "Then where has your reputation come from?" He looked at her, a tiny smile on his lips. "Jayne." A ripple of shock jolted through Kiara. "Jayne?" she repeated.

He nodded. "An ex-Hyshian assassin. She does the killing and I take the blame. It keeps her safe. The only crime she's wanted for is smuggling and espionage."

A knot formed in Kiara's throat as she considered his words. "So she's free to kill, and if you're caught, they'll execute you for something you're not guilty of."

He shook his head. "Not hardly. I've committed enough assassinations while working for the League to warrant all the death contracts signed on my life."

"But those were legal assassinations."

He scoffed. "Legal, but far more corrupt and immoral than anything Jayne has done."

Kiara digested his words, her heart pounding for him.

He leaned against the wall, watching her with hooded eyes. "I don't care if you turn me in, but I want you to swear to me you'll never betray Hauk, Rachol, Darling, or Jayne."

Kiara sniffed back her tears. "I would never betray any of you."

Nykyrian nodded. He started to push himself away from the wall, but Kiara caught him with her hand. There were so many other missing pieces in his puzzle she had to know the answers to. "Why does Aksel hate you so much?"Nykyrian took her hand from his chest and played with her fingers, sending a chill up her arm. It surprised her when he bothered to answer her plea. "He was angry at the Commander for adopting me. Since he couldn't take it out on the Commander, he turned his malice on me."

"Didn't Huwin ever try to stop it?"

Nykyrian shook his head. "He didn't want a son, he already had Aksel and Arast. What he wanted was a legend to stand out in the League's archives. He wanted his surname to inspire terror into anyone who heard it."

"Is that why Aksel changed his last name?"

Pain flashed behind his eyes for a brief moment, then was gone. "No, Aksel did that so no one would think he was related to a hybrid giakon."

Kiara ran her hand over the scar along his collarbone. "So much pain," she whispered, watching the chill bumps spring up beneath her fingers.

He looked down at her with agony-filled eyes that brought an ache to her chest.

Nykyrian took her hands and turned them upward. "In your palms, I have placed my life, my secrets," he whispered, his breath falling against her cheek, tingling her skin. "I give you freedom to leave me at any time. I'm not easy to love, I know. All I ask is that you always keep your silence, if not for me, then for the families of the others you'd destroy."

Tears fell uncontrollably down her cheeks, dripping from her chin. "I could never hurt you," she said, cupping his face in her hands.

His lips covered hers. The taste of her salty tears burned her lips as he kissed her passionately. Kiara welcomed the feel of his warm mouth, the hunger of his need for her. She clutched him to her, needing the feel of his body.