For a moment, she thought she might faint after all. Nem esis was the most feared assassin to ever live. Every known government, including her own, wanted him dead.
"He won't hurt you," Rachol soothed.
Kiara wasn't listening. Instead, she heard the various news reports that aired regularly about the coldblooded, brutal killings Nemesis performed. No one knew what he looked like, who he was. The only people to ever see his face, never lived long enough to tell the authorities. It was rumored he had even killed his own parents when he was a young boy, just for practice.
A large shadow fell over them.
Kiara gulped, her gaze traveling up the hulking form dressed identically to Rachol. At least Nemesis still had his helmet on. Maybe she would live through this . . . maybe. She shook in fear.
To her dismay, Nemesis walked past Rachol and knelt before her. His huge, gloved hand reached out to touch the burning cheek Chenz had struck. She cringed, trying to press herself into the wall behind her and turned her face away.
He dropped his hand before making contact with her cheek.
"She can't walk," Rachol explained.
Nemesis nodded. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and lifted her as if she weighed nothing more than the communicator at his waist. Kiara trembled, wanting to be back home and not in the arms of the most dangerous being alive.
Reaching the door, Nemesis paused and turned to face Rachol. "Kill them," he said in an electronically distorted voice.
The nonchalant tone tore through her. What kind of being could order som eone's death so callously? Not wanting to be near such a creature, she tried to squirm out of his arms.
His hold tightened almost to the point of pain.
He carried her out into the hallway to the linking station that joined the two crafts.
Rachol continued down the corridor, disappearing from her sight, no doubt on his way to carry out Nemesis' brutal order.
Kiara wanted to call Rachol back. The last thing she desired was to be left alone with this creature, but her mouth was suddenly so dry, she couldn't get even a whisper past her swollen lips.
Once inside their shuttle, Nemesis took her into one of the back rooms which she guessed served as some sort of infirmary. Medical tools and bottles of medicine were carefully placed in a glass cabinet not far from a large bed. The odor of antiseptic stung her nose. Everything was pristine white and orderly, a welcome contrast to her kidnappers' filth.
Kiara glanced up at Nemesis, afraid he might kill her as well. But he seemed to be ignoring her, at least as much as he could, given the fact she was in his arms.
He placed her gently on the bed, then moved to retrieve a blanket from a drawer at the bottom of the cabinet. With a kindness she would never have attributed to a ruthless killer, he wrapped it around her.
Kiara was minutely attuned to him. The light gleaned off his helmet with an eerie sheen.
He seemed larger than a human, taller, stronger. She had no idea what species he belonged to, yet he had to be at least humanoid.
She watched the play of well-defined muscles under his battlesuit as he pressed a panel next to the door and opened the closet.
Who was this assassin? She wasn't the first to ask that question and like the others, she knew she would never know the answer.
He turned around, holding a black battlesuit like the ones he and Rachol wore.
Kiara could feel his eyes on her, they were almost as tangible as a touch. She thought he was about to speak, but the door opened to reveal Rachol.
Unaware of what he had interrupted, Rachol took the battlesuit from Nem esis' hands. "I locked them in their munitions room. If they're quick, they might escape unscathed."
Kiara still sensed Nemesis watching her.
A sharp lunge told her their ship was launching away from her kidnappers' craft.
"Are you taking me home?" she asked.
A dreadful pause greeted her. Finally, Nemesis spoke, "Soon."
Before she could blink her eyes, he was gone.
*
Nykyrian locked the door behind him. He knew Rachol's doctoring abilities well enough to guess the dancer would be sedated. An image of Kiara's body outlined by her sheer, torn nightgown scorched him. He could still feel her pressed against his chest.
Forcing his mind to other thoughts, he rem oved his hot, sticky helmet. He freed his damp, blond hair from the tie holding it at the nape of his neck. With a tired sigh, he pulled his dark glasses from his pocket and moved to join the rest of his crew in the control room at the front of the shuttle.
Dancer Hauk and Darling Crewell were joking with each other when he entered.
"Rachol said we had a guest," Hauk commented to him dryly. "I hope she doesn't come out of that room and catch a sight of you without your helmet!"
Ignoring him, 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.
"Did Chenz and Petiri get away?" Nykyrian asked.