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Nykki returned to training after two days of being confined to bed. The rapport she and Chris had from before the incident was gone. In its place, was a nearly tangible tension. The two tried their best to avoid each other, but when they did meet, they tried to get away as soon as possible. If by chance they had to speak to each other, speech was kept to the minimum. The tension graduated to almost unbearable standards, and it was to Nykki's great relief when she finally found a day she could get away.
Nykki woke up early that Sunday. The encampment was quiet at six in the morning, and she was relieved to see no sign of Chris. The sun was barely above the horizon, but already the heat was building and the flies were starting to stir. This was the morning she had waited for. Solitude, a rare gift in the academy was upon her, and she did not intend to let this chance for peace slip away. She found a knapsack and jammed some food into it - biscuits, a flask of water , and two apples. She slid her brother's Bowie knife into her sock. She would not be caught unprepared again. She slipped out of the dorm and entered the wooded hills behind the academy. After walking up the wooded hillside, she found a stream that fed the swamp at the edge of the academy. She followed it upstream, forcing her way through the heavy underbrush, following old, indistinct trails, past tiny marshes and through thickets of brambles and numerous bushes. Gradually, the low growth gave way to scattered trees and copses, and the water's voice was stronger as it fell over its rocky path. She climbed higher and deeper into the woods. Finally, she was stopped by a low but steep rock wall over which the stream spilled in a cascading spray. Jutting rocks, cushioned with dark green moss, separated the falling water into thin streams veiled in mist and bejeweled by beams of sunlight. The water was collected in a deep, foaming pool before it continues down to meet the swamp. Moist gray-green lichen draped the pine and juniper that grew nearby. A thin undergrowth of grass, herbs and wildflowers carpeted the sun-dappled ground. A squirrel chattered above her, and a dragonfly skimmed the water. I've died and gone to heaven, she thought to herself happily, looking at the ethereal clearing. Nykki dabbled her fingers in the cool water before coming to a decision. "You, Nicole Shawn Storm," she said to herself, "are going for a swim." The cold, glassy water waited for her beneath the sparkling mist. She stripped off her clothes - the jacket, boy's track pants and large sweatshirt that she had come to loathe, socks and track-shoes, carefully hiding the knife underneath the pile of clothes - and dove naked into the pool. It was delicious. She swirled through the water like a fish. The bubbles tickled her skin, the water flowed over her body like a sensuous massage, washing away tension and weariness. Nykki scrubbed off the dust and the sweat, and combed her fingers through her hair, then she relaxed and basked in the mottled sunlight. It was so good to forget everything, to be herself without the guilt of the duplicity to encumber, without worrying over her twin and father, without having to care about Chris and the strain between them. There were no eyes constantly watching her, no pretending, no worrying, no remembering. Nykki giggled as a water weed brushed her thigh, then stretched luxuriously and swam to the waterfall. Suddenly, over the noise of the fall, Nykki heard a savage curse, and saw the bushes by the pool moving. There was only one other person who would come up... "Oh, gods," she muttered and started to stand up. "Hi, Alex." Fear jolted through Nykki's stomach. She fell back into the water and edged against the rock wall by the falls. Chris stood on the bank by her clothes. Lazily, he nudged her jacket with his foot and removed his own. "How is the water?" he asked casually. She only stared at him in wordless horror. He pulled off his shirt and pulled of his Reeboks. "I followed you to be sure you didn't have any trouble." His pants joined the heap of clothes, followed by his briefs. Nykki couldn't prevent the blush she felt spreading across her cheeks. Chris stretched in the warm sunlight. His body was lean and muscular, with a thin white scar across his back. "A swim is an excellent idea. I think I'll join you." He flashed a quick grin. You won't be grinning much longer, she thought to herself, smiling grimly. Nykki watched him dive into the pool and buried her face in the moss. "Christ," she pleaded. "Help me now." While he swam toward her, the girl bolted away to the opposite bank in the vain hope that she could hide before her mentor saw her body. But the clear water that had been so tempting just a while ago betrayed her. There was nothing to hide her curved hips or the swell of her breasts. Christopher abruptly stopped dead in the water. He stared at her, his eyes frozen in astonishment and stunned realization. Nykki stopped swimming, stood up in the shallow water, and faced him, her chin tilted up and water running down her breasts. "Now what, Wilder?" she challenged. Without warning, he lunged at her and his hands clamped her arms before she could move. Her eyes were pinned by gaze of erupting fury. "Good Lord," he snarled. He dropped her into the water, grabbed her hair with one hand and felt her breasts as if he could not believe his eyes. Nykki's skin crawled at his touch, and she closed her eyes. He then shook her, nearly dislodging her head. "A woman," he spat. "Are you a spy?" He pushed her underwater and held her, struggling, until her lungs burned, then he hauled her out like a gasping fish. "Who are you?" Christopher thrust her under again without waiting for an answer. Nykki's fingers tore at his wrists, but she could not loosen his grip on her hair. She would have given almost anything for a weapon at that moment. Inexplicably, she began to feel more anger than fear, and resentment surged through her. Once more, Chris dragged her head out of the water. "Defiling pig!" he cried. "Who sent you to spread your lies in the academy?" Nykki shrieked in fury and lashed out at his stomach. He dodged and shoved her under for the third time. She fought his merciless hold with frantic strength until her lungs were bursting and the blood pounded behind her eyes. Despite her training, she was no match for her furious mentor in unarmed combat. He was stronger and heavier, if not more skilled. But maybe she could surprise him. Unexpectedly, the girl went limp and let a few bubbles trail out of her mouth. Her head hurt abominably, but she concentrated on relaxing every muscle and floating as if dead. Chris loosened his grip on her hair. As she felt his hands relax, Nykki drew her legs up, shoved it violently against the bottom of the pool, and rammed her head into Christopher's stomach. He doubled over, cursing and gasping. Nykki fled for the bank. She scrambled over the damp rocks and moss as he came after her. The girl glanced back and saw Chris plunging through the water like a furious stallion, his handsome face twisted in rage and his eyes murderously dark. Frantically, Nykki ran for her clothes. Her fingers found the hidden blade, and she whirled to face Chris as he lunged out of the pool. "Keep away Wilder," she warned, backing against a tree. The rough bark bit in her bare back, and she felt splinters entering her skin. Chris paused for a moment, his eyes on her face. "Show your bite bitch. Even the lowest dogs can be kicked." He edged nearer. Nykki's eyes flashed with silver fire, but she stayed with her back to the tree. "A common whore," he taunted. "Is that how you survived that beating? Did you spread your legs for them? How would you like to do it for me, too?" A searing rage tore away Nykki's sensibilities. "Fuck you!" she stormed. "You know nothing! You're just a motherfucking son-of-a-bitch. What do you know other than to snap and snarl like a rabid dog? What do you understand about my reasons?" Christopher laughed. "Far better a dog than a whining cast-off. Will you grovel in the dirt to save your life again?" Nykki leapt at Christopher like a cornered lioness. Her attack was so fast it took him by surprise and the force of the attack sent him crashing to the ground, against a huge rock. When she stabbed him, her blade found the hollow of his left shoulder. It went deep, embedding in the muscle and ligaments. He gasped and went pale. He flung her violently away and sat up, rigid, staring stupefied at the blood that trailed down his chest. He hissed sharply. "Bitch, what have you done to me?" His vision narrowed onto her face, a wave of dizziness swept over him and before she could react, his strength failed and he collapsed unconscious. Nykki stood still for a long time, her body shuddering at the release of her rage. She closed her eyes and forcibly controlled her wild panting. The bastard, he deserves to die! she thought triumphantly. How dare he call me a whore, he's no better! She leaned over and wrenched her blade loose. The blood surged out of the wound and flowed down his side. Nykki held the point of the weapon against the hollow of his throat, where life lay just below the skin. It would be so easy. One simple thrust, then Wilder would be dead and his knowledge of her identity with him. It would be the first time she killed a person, but it would be wonderful to start with this one. She could still feel his hands pawing her body and hear his unspeakable insults. The knife dug into his skin as her anger rekindled. A bead of blood glistened on the point of the blade. Kill him, a voice in her mind said, he's dangerous. He'll betray you if he lives. The blade eased deeper. More scarlet beads welled up. Red, Nykki mused as she watched the blood stain the tan of Christopher's neck. As red as the blood on the sheets eight years ago... In disgust, Nykki threw down the knife and sat on the grass beside him. She hated herself for her weakness, but she could not kill Chris in cold blood. She had seen enough blood to last a lifetime, and, as her rage cooled, she realized that she did not really want Christopher's murder on her hands. The consequences were beyond imagination, and would be disastrous to her future. Besides, he did not deserve to die like this. His wound was payment enough for his insults. However, that still left the monumental problem of what Christopher would do to her when he recovered. She had no doubt he would expose her disguise and have her punished immediately. But maybe, just maybe, he would wait long enough o talk to her. Perhaps she could convince him that she had a substantial reason for doing all this. Nick did tell her Chris could be trusted. She hoped her twin was right, it was her only chance. The girl sighed irritably. If Chris was not going to die, she would have to bind his wound and take him to Larssard quickly. But what would she tell the Director? Unhappily, she dressed and cleaned Christopher's wound and bound it with strips of his shirt. Nykki tore another strip of cloth off his shirt and soaked it in water. She placed it at the back of his head where he had injured when he fell. Just as she finished clothing him, she realized that she could not possibly carry that man down to the academy by herself, but she had to try. Hesitantly, she eased Chris to a standing position . They traveled slowly back down the forest. Nykki spent half her time trying to maneuver Chris's feet so that they could get back to the academy, and the other half thinking of what to tell his father. I wonder if I should run before Chris gains consciousness, she mused to herself. No, she stuck her chin out defiantly, Nick would never do anything like that, and neither would I. Nick said that he could be a friend, I really hope he was right.
A crowd met them at the edge of the academy, and gentle hands took Christopher from her aching shoulder and carried him into the infirmary. James Wilder stood before her with his arms crossed. His face was expressionless. "Come to my office," he commanded. Nykki followed the Director back to his office. The two of them stood there without speaking. The silence was finally broken by the Director. "How did it happen?" he demanded. Nykki met his gaze levelly. "Chris followed me this morning when I went for a swim. He climbed a rock wall by the pool and fell on a broken branch." "Why?" The word was and accusation. "I don't know, maybe the rocks were slippery. I only saw him fall." "Why did he follow you?" Too many details could sound contrived. "I guess he wanted to go swimming. Or maybe he felt that it was dangerous for me to be left alone after the last time." "How come you didn't go to the swimming pool here instead?" he persisted. "I needed to be alone." The Director looked at Nykki and considered her for an excruciating moment. "Thank you for bringing him back," the Director said at last. "It was my duty." "Sometimes, duty is not taken into account. Dismissed." Nykki turned and walked out. Once alone, she took a deep relieved breath. She walked along the corridor towards her room. Halfway to her destination, a voice called her. "Alex!" Larssard's tone stopped her cold. She saw him standing at the corridor leading to the infirmary and her heart lurched. He beckoned to her. Wordlessly, she followed him into the infirmary ward. "What happened?" he asked quietly. He moved aside and she saw Christopher lying unconscious on the bed. The cut on his head caused by the fall had been washed, cleaned and bound up. But the shoulder wound had not been tended yet, and the bloody bandages lay like dark stains on his tanned skin. "What happened, Alex?" Larssard asked, a neutral expression on his face. "He fell on his own. I did nothing," Nykki answered evasively. "Granted. But should I tell Wilder that the injury in his son's shoulder is a knife wound?" Nykki stared at the doctor in alarm. She had forgotten that Larssard would recognize the cause of her mentor's injury. If Larssard told the Director the truth, no one would believe her if she said it was only self-defense. At the least, James Wilder would sue her ass off her, at the most, he would kill her for injuring his beloved son. Of course, if Christopher's rage recovered with him, her fate would be the same. "Tell me the truth Alex," Larssard prompted. "I think you did this, however unintentionally." "It was a misunderstanding," she pleaded, her silver eyes begging for Larssard to understand. The doctor watched her usual mask of aloofness and arrogance crack slightly, saw the sincerity in her eyes and was satisfied. He had learned to recognize truth and deceit hidden in people's faces. The silver eyes that met his were free of guile. Larssard saw only a desperate plea to be believed. The doctor sighed as he stared into those eyes. Before, Eric Larssard could not have said what color they were; now he knew they were the silver of the moon reflecting off the sea at night, with the saw the same subtle lights and the same feeling of controlled power. He shook his head, surprised at the depth of Nykki's gaze. "All right. I'll say nothing." Nykki heard the resigned acquiescence in his voice and let loose a relieved breath. She had not realized she had been holding her breath. "Thank you doctor, that's all I ask for now."
Nykki walked tiredly back to her room. Its cool gloom was comforting, and it was a place where she could be alone. There was nothing she could do, and nowhere else to go. She could only wait.
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