"Better," Rachol said, pulling Pitala's blaster from his hand.

Nykyrian holstered his weapon. "Apologize to Tara Biardi and you can leave."Angry, black eyes focused on Kiara with an unspoken promise he would be back. A wave of terror consumed her. "My apologies," he rasped.

Cold sweat beaded on her body as Pitala bent and slapped his partner awake. Within seconds, the pair of assassins were gone.

Her relief at their departure quickly ebbed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, not quite certain of Nykyrian and Rachol's intent.

"Saving you," Nykyrian said absently, looking down the corridor.

The words only calmed her to a slight degree. Kiara wasn't sure the danger had passed.

The OMG had turned down the contract to protect her. Maybe they had only saved her from Pitala so they could collect the bounty on her life.

Rachol stared at her. "She's not quite in shock, but I bet she faints before you get her home."'

Kiara opened her mouth to remind him she didn't faint, but was silenced by Nykyrian returning into the room.

"Did they go out the back?" Rachol asked.

"Yes. Fifty dorcas they're setting up an ambush near my ship."

Rachol laughed. "No bet. I know they are. They're too stupid not be obvious and predictable."

Nykyrian nodded. "You know what to do. I'll meet you at rendezvous point and time."

Rachol returned his nod and gave Kiara a cheerful smile.

"Roll and burn,'" he said to Nykyrian on his way out the door.

Nykyrian turned his attention to Kiara. He wanted desperately to comfort her, but was afraid what he might do if he touched her. Her tears still glistened on her cheeks where they had washed away streaks of her makeup.

His hand tightened around the grip of his blaster. He should have killed Pitala for the grief he caused her. Pushing his emotions back into restraint, Nykyrian retrieved hercloak from a peg inside the door. "Here," he said, handing the cloak to her. "We need to go."

Kiara swallowed the lump in her throat. For a moment, she was unable to understand the words through the fog clouding her mind. "You mean leave?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I have a show to perform." Her voice sounded hollow even to herself. She had to dance.

People had paid too much money to be disappointed. Her promoters would never forgive her if she disappointed the audience.

Nykyrian grabbed her arm as she tried to walk past him. Her lucidity worried him. Had she suffered a breakdown from the attack? She was definitely too calm. "You have to leave the theatre."

"I cannot."

Her voice, haunting in its emptiness, scared him. Nykyrian wanted to shake her. Her amber eyes were glassy, devoid of any emotion. Rachol was right, she was in shock.

"Listen," he said, trying to break through the mild sedation her mind had provided for her. "Pitala and his kind will do anything to accomplish their mission. That includes bombing this building. They don't care how many lives they take as long as yours is one of them. We must leave."

Kiara laughed, not really understanding his words. Pulling away from his grip, she walked into the hallway. Her toe struck something solid. She looked down.

Her numbness left her in a wake of consuming terror. On the floor were the bodies of her guards. Their eyes opened and glazed, red blood seeped through their uniforms.

Her scream echoed through the hallway.

Wincing at the sound, Nykyrian drew her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest. "Don't look," he whispered, his chest tightening into a painful knot of suppressed emotion.

He held her quietly while she sobbed. He had long ceased being horrified by bodies. The only emotion the grisly sight evoked in him was anger over the waste.Her hot tears soaked through his shirt, forming chills on his skin. The soft scent of flowers drifted from her hair. Her slender arms clutched at him in desperation. He tightened his arms around her shoulders, wishing he could have something she would never give to the likes of him, wishing for things he could never give her- things like safety, and a better world.

"Everything will be fine," he said soothingly.

"No, it won't," Kiara sobbed. Her feelings crashed through her in waves of resounding grief and agony. She could still feel Pitala's blaster at her cheek, see his menacing black eyes.

Oh God, she had almost died!

Kiara cried against Nykyrian's shoulder, clutching him. She needed the safety he offered, the protection. She found a strange comfort in his arms. His heart beat a steady, soothing rhythm under her cheek. A faint smell of leather and musk came from his skin.

Clinging to him, she needed his warmth.

Nykyrian clenched his teeth at her embrace. Never in his life had anyone held him in such a manner. He knew only her emotional state prompted her to touch him at all. If she ever knew who and what he was, she would hate him. just as everyone did.

Swallowing the lump of pain burning in his throat, he pulled away. "We must leave."

Kiara took her cloak from his hand and wrapped it around her. She shielded her eyes from the bodies. For now, she had no choice but to trust this stranger to get her past Pitala. Nykyrian had saved her life, obviously he knew what he was doing.

"Is there another exit besides the back?" he asked.

"The caterers have a separate entrance," she whispered.

"Where?"

"This way." Kiara led him down the corridor, past the reception room.

Entering the kitchen. Kiara became self-conscious. The caterers paused their movements, staring at them with keen interest. Her stomach churned at the smell of baking sweets. For a moment, she 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 tomake 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. He shielded her with his body as they crossed the sidewalk and she inserted her key card into the door's lock. When the door opened, he grabbed her arm to keep her from entering the building before he scanned the hallway, then the street.

"You're making me nervous!" she snapped.

"You should be nervous."

Kiara gnashed her teeth in frustration, stepped into the corridor and headed for the lift.

"My flat is on the top floor."

"I know."

He infuriated her. If he knew so much, why didn't he lead the way? Oh what she wouldn't give to knock some of his cockiness out of him. "It must thrill you to always be right," she said testily, pushing the number for her floor.

As the doors closed, he faced her. "You can attack me all you wish. I don't give a minsid damn whether or not you like me. But you will respect me, listen to me, and obey me!"

Anger stung her cheeks at his rapid dictation for her behavior. "I'm not yours, you have no ownership papers! My God, I haven't even hired you."

"You haven't, your father has."Kiara stiffened in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? I was there when Rachol turned my father's proposal down."

"We reconsidered."

The knot in her stomach loosened. "Why?"

He stepped back from her. "Pitala and Aksel Bredeh."

Kiara frowned. Pitala she knew only too well. "What is Aksel Bredeh?"

"He's another rancid mercenary assassin, mu Tara. "

She clenched her teeth. "Why do you keep calling me Tara? Is it an insult?"

Nykyrian tensed for a moment. "It's Andarion for lady," he said softly and turned away from her.

"Oh," she whispered, curious as to why he chose to call her that after his rough treatment of her.

"Who is Aksel Bredeh?" she asked at last, wondering what there was to the new mercenary that would motivate Nykyrian to help her. Could he be any worse than Pitala?