Born of Night (The League #1)(19)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

He set the computer aside and stood up. “C’mon.”

Kiara frowned as he headed for her studio. “I’ve already practiced until I’m bored with that, too.”

“You haven’t practiced what I’m about to show you.”

She arched a brow at that as she followed after him. “You gonna show me your moves, baby?”

He snorted. “Get that cheesy line a lot, do you?”

“Oh yeah. It’s one of the drawbacks of being a dancer. Every guy seems to think he’s the first one to think of it. Scary really.”

Nykyrian didn’t comment as he pulled his outer shirt off. If she accidentally hit the armor in it, she’d bruise her hand at best, break it at worst. And the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt.

Kiara had to force herself not to bite her knuckle at the sight of that ripped body as he tossed his shirt aside. He had on a sleeveless black undershirt that clung to every sharp dip of a body she’d love to explore with her tongue.

The scars on his left arm blended in with The League artwork. There were more scars on his right arm. They curled around like he’d grabbed a laser whip at some point.

Everything about him screamed danger. Power.

Sex.

It was actually hard to look at him, he was so gorgeous. She glanced toward the shirt that had made a heavy thump on her floor when he’d dropped it. No doubt it was as armored as his coat. “You really wouldn’t feel it if I shot you, would you?”

“Depends on where you shot me.”

“Hmmm.”

He came up behind her so close that it gave her chills. His body heat warmed her. He was so tall that she barely came up to his shoulder. She trembled at his fierce nearness and had to fight the urge to lean back against him.

Completely unaffected by her, he put his hands on her shoulders as she faced the mirrored wall. “Vulnerable spots.” He pointed to each one on her as he listed them. “Eyes, nose, throat—” He paused before he added, “Groin.”

“I know all of this. My father had me adequately trained.”

“Had you been adequately trained, Pitala would never have been able to pin you down.”

“He surprised me.”

“And those are the three magic words to always remember. Surprise is your best friend.” He turned her to face him. “Attack me.”

Kiara hesitated. He was a huge man with a lot of scary skills. “I don’t know about this . . .”

“Yes, you do. I come at you, you fight me with everything you have. You don’t stop no matter what. It’s me or you and for you, it better be me.” His voice was deadpan and yet she didn’t miss the underlying ferocity of those words.

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. You can’t hurt me.”

“All right.” She scissor-kicked him.

Before she could make contact, he backed up quicker than she could blink and slid fluidly to her side, then caught her around the throat in a gentle grip designed to make her aware, but not hurt or scare her. “Too easy.”

He let go and stepped back.

She tried to strike him with her hands, but again, he dodged and came up with a mock blow that would have sent her flying had he made contact with her.

Frustrated, she attempted to kick his groin. He moved away.

Kiara growled at him. “What are you made of? Rubber?”

“Calm down. Not every blow will make contact.” He gestured to the scars on his right arm. “Even I miss from time to time. No matter what happens, you have to maintain control of your emotions. Frustration and anger are your enemies. The goal is to piss off and kill others.”

He stepped away from her and called out to her media player, “System, find and cue ‘Bodies’ by Drowning Pool.”

Kiara cringed as a loud obnoxious song started playing over her intercom and the lead singer screamed out in rage. “What is that ungodly noise?”

“It’ll help, trust me. You’re a dancer. Listen to the beat of the song. One, two, three, four. One, hit the eyes.” He demonstrated each punch without making contact. “Two, hit the nose. Three, hit the throat. Four, hit the groin. Don’t let up. Don’t stop the attack. One, two, three, four,” he repeated several more times until she had the sequence.

Kiara nodded to the rapid tempo he counted off in time to the song.

“Now attack me to the beat of the song. In the exact order I gave you.”

She did and this time, she saw how much more effective the hits were. Even though he dodged her blows, she felt the flow and the power of each strike.

“Now, the next secret is to do the unexpected. When I attack you, I expect you to run or pull away. Come at me with everything you have. If I grab you, go completely limp.”

“Limp?”

He nodded. “Ever tried to pick up a pissed-off toddler? Even though they don’t weigh much, they go completely limp and unbalance you. What happens when you’re off balance?”

This one she knew all too well from her dancing. “You hit the floor.”

“That’s right, and when an attacker is down, you have the advantage. Remember, one, two, three, four. No mercy. No leniency. Attack until they’re down for the count. Don’t pull away to run. It only gives them a chance to recover and come at you again and by then, they’re really pissed off and wanting blood. You beat them down until they can’t get up. Mercilessly. Coldly. Them or you.” There was no mistaking the deadly earnestness of his emotions on this point and she never wanted to be on the receiving end of that venom.

“You are one scary man.”

“And I’m alive even though I should be dead.”

He did have a point with that.

“Now attack.”

Kiara threw herself against him. The instant her body slammed into his, he stepped back instead of staggering, but it was still impressive.

“Sweep the legs, gouge the eyes, hit the nose. You can crush the average windpipe with only five pounds of pressure. Three pounds to tear off an ear. Even less to blind someone completely.”

“You are gory.”

“Yes, but you will survive if you listen to me. Human bodies are frail and some aliens are even more so.”

“What about the ones who aren’t?”

“Everyone is vulnerable in the eyes and throat. If they can’t see you, they can’t attack. If they can’t breathe, they can’t attack. If they bleed, they can die. Never met a species yet that didn’t breathe or bleed. Eyes are tricky. Not all races have them, but most of those who come at you do.”

Kiara nodded and they went over and over the moves until she was hot and sweaty, and most importantly had them programmed into her muscle memory.

Winded from the exertion, she realized he hadn’t even broken a sweat. How did he do that?

She leaned back against her bar, panting, as she watched him retrieve his shirt from the floor. She ground her teeth at the sight of his well-rounded butt cupped by his leather pants. Damn, he was hot.

“Do you ever dance?” she asked, trying to imagine how good he’d look.

“No.”

“Never?”

He shook his head.

“Everyone should dance, Nykyrian.” She took his hand intending to show him, but the moment she did, he hissed at her and jerked away.

Shocked by his unexpected reaction, she stepped back.

“Don’t ever touch me.”

The hostility caught her completely off guard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He didn’t respond as he left her alone in the room.

“System, stop,” she said, ending the music he’d trained her to.

Curious about his reaction, she went to the main room where he was retrieving his computer. “Nykyrian—”

“You need to get ready for your party tonight.”

His order stunned her. “You’re going to allow me to attend?”

“For an hour, per your father’s request. He said it was something you couldn’t afford to miss.”

“Okay.” She paused to look back at him and his emotionless form. She was still worried that she’d overstepped some unknown, invisible line with him. “Are we good?”

“Fine.”

She sighed, realizing he was back to his monosyllabic self. So much for reaching out to him. Obviously, he wanted to keep his distance and she would respect that.

But there for a minute, she’d thought they shared something more than client and protector.

Don’t be stupid. It wasn’t like there could ever be anything between them. He was an outlaw and she was a princess.

Then why did the fact that she’d hurt him hurt her? Why did she feel like this? Shaking her head, she went to her room to lay out her clothes before bathing.

Nykyrian touched his hand where her fingers had brushed against his. His flesh still burned from that brief contact. But that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the fact that he wanted to feel her hand on his face. The fact that he wanted to dance with her . . .

Don’t go there.

Bitter, harsh memories surged strong enough to take his breath.

You are an animal.

And she was beauty and grace.

He would keep his hands to himself and make sure they extracted him out of her life as soon as possible.

CHAPTER 11

Kiara smoothed her dress with her hands, double-checking to make sure she looked fine for the party. Tiyana had warned her a group of promoters would be there, and a disillusioned promoter could damage her career as much as death. In the dancing business, image was everything.

Opening the door to her room, she went down the hall to find the most lethal group ever imagined assembled in her main room. All in black, all armed, and all looking like they were hunting for blood.

Jayne, Hauk, Darling, Syn, and Nykyrian.

She frowned at their collective fierceness. “What’s going on?”

Nykyrian shrugged his coat on. “Protection detail. But don’t worry. We won’t cramp you at the party. We know how to blend.”

Syn snorted at that. “Yeah, baby, you blend.”

Nykyrian shoved at him.

Kiara bit her lip to keep from smiling at their good-natured ribbing. Though to be honest, Syn, Darling, and Jayne did all look like sophisticated socialites. Especially Syn.

His eyeliner and piercings gone, he looked better than human. He looked absolutely stunning, and with his hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, he had an air of refinement to him she would have never guessed he possessed. Nor would she ever suspect him of being one of the most notorious thieves in the United Systems.

He stepped forward to offer her his arm. “I’m your escort for the party. Anyone asks, we met at an art show.”

She arched a brow at that. A notorious outlaw with facial piercings at a hoity-toity gallery? The image was preposterous. “An art show?”

He nodded. “Klasen opened a new one two weeks ago, here in Wecsiz on Fifth. It’s featuring his bronze period. Not as impressive as his gold, but worth visiting anyway. You can really see how his talents progressed from the early work to what he does now. It’s the finely patterned brushstrokes, though, that really mark the bronze. You can see him developing his technique.”

“Oh, gah,” Jayne moaned, pulling out her blaster and aiming it at Syn’s head. “Can I shoot him now before he bores us all to death with his friggin’ art shit?”

Syn disarmed her. “You’re such an uneducated pleb.”

“And happy that way. Not to mention much less boring.” She grabbed her blaster from his hand and holstered it underneath her dress.

Kiara took Syn’s arm. “You really do know your art. I’m impressed.”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Darling begged. “He really will bore you with it all night if you let him.”

“Shut up, all of you. Uncultured baboons.”

Nykyrian led the way to the door. “All right, children. We’re going out into public now. Let’s all play nice and try to stay out of trouble.”

Jayne made a kiss at him. “Yes, Dad.”

They surrounded Kiara as they made their way downstairs to a transport. Jayne, dressed in a short, tight black dress, drove with Darling riding shotgun. Nykyrian and Syn rode in the back with her. Hauk had remained behind to watch her flat.

Kiara felt like a child sandwiched between people who were so much larger than her. “Is there anything I need to be aware of?”

Syn shook his head. “Act normal. Darling will stay with the transport and watch the door. Jayne will go in first as an attendee. You and I will enter together with Nykyrian following us in. Nykyrian, should anyone ask, is my bodyguard. That way none of the people you deal with will be the wiser about what’s going on.”

“Thank you for that consideration. Really.”

“No problem.”

Kiara glanced up at Nykyrian, who seemed oblivious to everything, and yet she knew better. Nothing ever escaped his notice.

“Oh no!” she gasped as she realized what she’d just done.