Born of Night (The League #1)(4)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

What he wouldn’t give to have her do that while they were both nak*d . . .

His body was so hard it was all he could do not to limp. And to think, he’d mistakenly believed he’d survived real torture in his past.

That had nothing on this.

Get a grip . . .

Honestly, he’d rather she get a grip on a certain piece of his anatomy that was draining all the blood from his brain before he lost what little reasoning he had left.

You are in control.

Yeah, tell that to his cock. It wasn’t exactly listening to him at the moment.

Forcing his mind to other thoughts, he removed the hot helmet so that he could breathe in and try to relax. He freed his damp, blond hair from the tie holding it at the nape of his neck and let it fall over his shoulders.

With a tired sigh, he chucked the alcohol into a garbage chute, then pulled his dark shades from his pocket and moved to join the rest of his crew in the control room at the front of the ship.

Dancer Hauk and Darling Cruel—and yes, those were their real names, which showed that even loving parents could be sick and twisted—were joking with each other when he entered.

“Hey, Cruel,” Hauk said snidely. “Check it . . . the man is without his guise. You think he wants to be found out or is he looking for a reason to kill the woman? What odds are you taking?”

Darling snorted. “I’m not betting shit, troll. I already owe you two weeks’ pay. Anymore and I’ll be working only to pay you.”

Hauk let out an evil laugh. But then, at almost seven feet in height, he could be obnoxious to most people and get away with it. Especially those like Darling, who only came up to just past his waist.

A typical Andarion male, Hauk belonged to the most brutal of all known races. One that valued physical beauty only second to physical strength. With long black hair that he wore in tiny braids, his features were perfect and sharp. His white irises were ringed by a band of blood red. But Nykyrian didn’t care what he looked like. Hauk was raw, savage strength and a brilliant techspert.

Darling, on the other hand, looked almost frail in comparison. Where Hauk was built solid and huge like a tree, Darling was lean and finely boned. His straight red hair fell across the left side of his face, covering a vicious scar that they never talked about.

Ignoring them while they exchanged barbs, Nykyrian dropped his helmet on the floor and took the pilot’s chair. He ran over their settings, knowing there’d be no corrections. Hauk and Darling were the best. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here.

They’d be dead.

“Did you bathe in Chenz’s and Petiri’s blood?” Darling asked him.

Nykyrian gave Darling a condemning stare. “I would have, had someone not detonated their charges prematurely.”

“Yeah, Cruel. You have to watch that premature detonation problem of yours.”

Darling tossed a throwing knife at Hauk’s head.

Hauk caught it and laughed before he tossed it back at Darling who caught it just as easily. “You keep doing that, human, and you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings, Andarion.”

“Not true. Compared to Nykyrian, I’m as sensitive as a woman.”

“God knows you’re beginning to whine like one.” Nykyrian rubbed at his right eye under his shades as his thoughts returned to the mission they’d just completed.

Justice had been served swiftly and coldly. Tomorrow Syn would inform their client about Chenz’s death. Granted it wouldn’t bring back the senator’s son, but it would ensure that Chenz never decapitated another child and delivered his head to his mother.

That alone made him wish he’d had more time with the bastard.

But there was nothing more to be done. Chenz was dead and they would be paid.

Aching for the poor senator and a grief he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Nykyrian stared out the window at the blackness swirling around them. The senator’s pain over the loss still haunted him as he tried to imagine a parent who cared so much for her son. The gods knew none of his parents, either real or adoptive, had ever given two shits about him.

It comforted him on some level to know that not everyone was as cold and unfeeling as he’d learned to be. That there were people like Sheridan and the senator who could love and who could cry over the loss of the child they’d brought into the world.

In the lightless void he was staring at, an image of Kiara dancing in her last ballet floated before his eyes, which didn’t help him calm his arousal at all.

Damn it, why did he feel like this?

But then she’d always been able to stir his senses. Every time he’d seen her dance, she’d touched a part of his soul—a part of him he preferred to think was long dead and damned. She, alone, had made him see beauty in a universe he normally despised. Had made him feel something other than cold, corrupt emptiness.

She was beauty and gentleness personified.

Nykyrian scoffed at his own stupidity. He knew better. No one was good and no one over the age of ten was unscarred. Life was brutal and it made victims of everyone.

And thoughts of her weren’t helping his foul mood in the least.

Hauk turned in his chair. “Speaking of women . . . who’s the trim you guys almost died over?”

Nykyrian ground his teeth as anger whipped through him. He’d always hated that demeaning term for women. The bizarre thing was he didn’t even know why. It just seemed wrong to dismiss a person so. Something that made no sense when one considered the fact that he killed people for a paycheck.

Yeah, he was definitely a head case.

Clearing his throat, he kept his tone even and flat. “Kiara Zamir, the dancer.”

Hauk gave a low, appreciative whistle. “What was she doing with those scabs?”

Nykyrian cut a droll stare at the Andarion and a question that was so stupid there was no reason to even bother answering it.

“Yo, dumbass,” Darling said sarcastically. “What do you think she’d be doing with them? Giving them ballet lessons?”

Hauk narrowed his gaze at Nykyrian. “Tell me again why I can’t kill him?”

“You’re afraid of handling explosives.”

Hauk cursed. “One day I’m going to get over that and when I do . . .”

“I’ll wisely stop annoying you.” Darling winked at him.

Nykyrian rolled his eyes at their incessant swipes. The two of them were like recalcitrant siblings. But for all their bluster, they were loyal to each other as much as they were loyal to him.

That alone made them invaluable.

Ignoring them, Nykyrian rechecked their headings, then pulled up an e-ledger and started making notes for his next mission.

Within an hour, they began docking at their secure station, one Nykyrian had built nine years ago when he’d left The League. It was only in the last four years that it’d grown into a monstrosity of workers who proudly followed his new code.

Protect the innocent and kill the vermin.

Simple and elegant—it was finally a code he could live, or die, by.

Sheridan, or rather Syn, had been the one to name their operation. The Sentella. A word that meant a quorum of sentinels in Syn’s native tongue. And that’s what they were. Guardians for a better world.

The League checked the united galaxies and kept their governments in line. The Sentella kept The League and the independent assassins others employed in check.

At last, the innocent had their own paladins. And it was a calling none of them took lightly. Whenever an assassin or politician crossed the line, they answered to The Sentella.

More to the point, they answered to him.

Nemesis.

Syn joined them on the bridge, reporting that Kiara was in a sedated sleep. Nykyrian replaced his helmet before heading back to their patient.

After the landing, Nykyrian carried her from the ship. He took her to the upper floor of their command center where he charged Mira, one of their nurses, to care for her until she woke.

Mira was thrilled to be assigned watch duty over such a famous personality. Her gaze nervous as she watched “Nemesis,” she ran to their supply room to find sleeping attire for the tiny dancer in his arms.

Shaking his head at Mira’s undue haste to flee his presence, Nykyrian took his precious bundle into one of the observation rooms and carefully placed her on the large bed. He covered her with an extra blanket.

As he stepped away from the bed, he heard her whispering in her sleep. Entranced by her melodic voice which he’d only ever heard on programmed interviews, he turned back to take a final look at her peacefully resting form.

How could anyone be so beautiful and tiny?

He stood over her, intoxicated by the smoothness of her features, her pert nose, the high cheekbones, her finely arched brows. Her long, dark mahogany hair fell in soft ringlets about her beautiful face and shoulders.

She was exquisite.

He traced the line of her bruised cheek, wanting to kill Chenz again for hurting her. But most of all, he was tempted to remove his glove and feel the softness he knew her flawless skin would hold.

You don’t need softness.

It was true. Sex came with a severe risk and since intimacy was an alien concept to him, he tended to avoid it. He didn’t like being nak*d and unarmed around anyone. The few minutes of release weren’t worth his life.

At least they hadn’t been until now . . .

Kiara might make a shot to his head worth it.

He sensed Mira’s presence as she returned. Looking up, he saw her questioning brown eyes.

With a curt nod to Mira, he left the room and headed to their meeting. That was what he needed to focus on. Not tiny dancers who’d almost gotten them killed.

Nykyrian met up with Syn, Darling, and Hauk downstairs, anxious to finish his business and return her home. He didn’t like the unfamiliar feelings she evoked. He was used to being numb and untouched. It was comfortable to him.

Hauk arched one cynical brow. “What kept you?”

Nykyrian didn’t answer as he led them to their council chambers where Jayne was already seated and waiting for them.

He could tell Hauk wanted to press the issue, but fear for his life kept him silent as he moved to sit down across from Jayne.

The room was covered with a myriad of star charts and maps as well as whispers from some of their monitoring equipment. Everything was neat, tidy, and efficient, just the way he liked his life.

Nykyrian walked to the monitor on his left and called up their assignments. He sent them to the table which was a large interactive monitor for their files where all of them could review their schedules.

As he waited for his friends to remove their helmets and take their chairs, Nykyrian perused the listed items. It was a heavy load they were carrying, but that was nothing new, since The League and others seemed to think they were above the very laws they’d put into place.

Nykyrian removed his own helmet and took his place at the head of the table. He gave the small group a cursory glance before he spoke to Syn. “Send a message to Kiefer Zamir that I’ll return his daughter. I want him to know The Sentella had nothing to do with her abduction.”

Syn snorted as he made a note with his stylus on the terminal that glowed through the glass of the table. “No good deed goes unpunished.” That was Syn’s mantra that he repeated constantly, not that Nykyrian blamed him for it. It seemed to be ever true.

He glanced up at Nykyrian. “Your luck, they’ll shoot you down when you take her back.” He made another quick note on his tablet. “By the way, I got the news from one of our spies that the Gouran Consulate fell apart two days ago when the Probekeins threatened to assassinate the councilors’ kids. Eight contracts were drawn up for the terminations. Six children have been found mutilated, including Councilor Serela’s boy we saw last night. I’ll make sure word gets around that Chenz’s death was because of his brutal murder of the kid.”

Nykyrian mentally flashed on Serela’s tormented face and the sight of her son’s remains. He’d killed Chenz too mercifully for his tastes. If only they’d had more time . . .

“Other than Chenz, who were the others who accepted the Probekeins’ contracts?”

“Don’t know,” Syn answered.

Nykyrian rubbed his jaw. “What were the negotiations between the Probekeins and Gourans over?”

At Syn’s shrug, Nykyrian folded his arms over his chest. “Sher, you’re supposed to stay informed of all contracts for assassinations. Get off the bottle and find out the definite reasons for the killings as well as the name on the last contract and who holds it. My guess, the murders are over the new weapon the Probekeins are building. Either way, we need to know.”

“I’m on it.” Syn quickly jotted it down.

Nykyrian waited until he was finished. “You’d best inform Zamir immediately that his daughter’s safe. I’m sure he’s about bended over her disappearance.”

Syn stood, moving to comply with Nykyrian’s last directive.

“I think we should target Emperor Abenbi,” Hauk said, watching Syn leave. Abenbi was the Probekeins’ leader and head ass**le. “It’s time we showed the Probekeins they can’t continue to bully other governments. Give them a taste of their own feces.”