Born of the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon Read Free Book Online Page B

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 her
    cloak 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