Veil of Shadows
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
Teaser chapter
Praise for the novels of Shiloh Walker
THROUGH THE VEIL
“[A] hold-on-to-your-seat tale of demons, hunky warriors, and witches served with a mix of love and betrayal. Fun! If you enjoy otherworldly, action-packed adventures with a hot and steamy romance, this is for you.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A good read . . . Walker obviously has an unmatched imagination.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
“Walker does an excellent job of creating a world whose inhabitants are fighting for their very existence. Dark and evocative, this tale is filled with danger, betrayal and a destined love.”
—Romantic Times
“Action, adventure and romance abound . . . An engaging tale.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“A fabulous action-packed romantic fantasy . . . Fans will believe that the world on the other side of the veil exists, which is key to this fine tale.”
—Midwest Book Review
THE MISSING
“Suspense that can rip your heart open and leave you raw . . . The characters are absolutely fantastic, from the leads to the side characters. The setting is wonderful . . . If you enjoy suspense/thriller/romance novels, heavy on the suspense, then I highly recommend Shiloh Walker’s The Missing.”
—Errant Dreams Reviews
“Walker pulls it off brilliantly . . . [She] certainly has a future in paranormal and/or romantic suspense.”
—The Romance Reader
“Great romantic suspense that grips the audience.”
—Midwest Book Review
“A page-turner from the very start. Intense and fast-paced, the action is gritty, the emotion heart-wrenching and the characters lively. Sexy and romantic, this tale has plenty of action—of the erotic kind—and is loaded with suspense. No wonder Ms. Walker is loved by fans everywhere. This is a winner.”
—Fresh Fiction
CHAINS
“This book is a double page-turner. The story is thrilling, and the sex just makes it better—two great reasons not to put it down until the end!”
—Romantic Times
“Breathtakingly wonderful . . . Smoothly erotic . . . Utterly amazing . . . Will definitely keep your pulse racing!”
—Errant Dreams Reviews
“Exciting erotic romantic suspense.”
—Midwest Book Review
FRAGILE
“[A] flawlessly sexy suspense novel . . . Exhilarating.”
—Romantic Times
“An excellently crafted mystery and romance!”
—Errant Dreams Reviews
“Suspense, romance and an ending that I can’t say anything about—because that would be a spoiler . . . I recommend reading this one.”
—The Best Reviews
“Intense, sexy . . . Ms. Walker has created another unforgettable . . . fast-paced, edgy tale.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
HUNTER’S SALVATION
“One of the best tales in a series that always achieves high marks . . . An excellent thriller.”
—Midwest Book Review
HUNTERS: HEART AND SOUL
“Some of the best erotic romantic fantasies on the market. Walker’s world is vibrantly alive with this pair.”
—The Best Reviews
HUNTING THE HUNTER
“Action, sex, savvy writing, and characters with larger-than-life personalities that you will not soon forget are where Ms. Walker’s talents lie, and she delivered all that and more . . . This is a flawless five-rose paranormal novel and one that every lover of things that go bump in the night will be howling about after they read it . . . Do not walk! Run to get your copy today!”
—A Romance Review
“An exhilarating romantic fantasy filled with suspense and . . . star-crossed love . . . Action packed.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Fast paced and very readable . . . Titillating.”
—The Romance Reader
“Action packed, with intriguing characters and a very erotic punch, Hunting the Hunter had me from page one. Thoroughly enjoyable with a great hero and a story line you can sink your teeth into, this book is a winner. A very good read!”
—Fresh Fiction
“Another promising voice is joining the paranormal genre by bringing her own take on the ever-evolving vampire myth. Walker has set up the bones of an interesting world and populated it with some intriguing characters. Hopefully, there will be a sequel that ties together more threads and divulges more details.”
—Romantic Times
Titles by Shiloh Walker
HUNTING THE HUNTER
HUNTERS: HEART AND SOUL
HUNTER’S SALVATION
HUNTER’S NEED
THROUGH THE VEIL
VEIL OF SHADOWS
THE MISSING
FRAGILE
BROKEN
Anthologies
HOT SPELL
(with Emma Holly, Lora Leigh, and Meljean Brook)
PRIVATE PLACES
(with Robin Schone, Claudia Dain, and Allyson James)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
VEIL OF SHADOWS
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Shiloh Walker, Inc.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-44327-9
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For Ann W. and Angie W.,
who believed in this new world from the start.
And for my family,
always for my family.
I love you.
ONE
The first time she saw the man, Laisyn Caar knew he was going to be trouble.
Syn really, really didn’t have the time nor the inclination to deal with it. Obviously, fate didn’t give a damn.
Like a lot of the refugees they’d taken in over the years, he wore threadbare clothes and he carried little in the way of material goods. Many refugees arrived on the base camp on solar-powered gliders or riding a baern. The big pack beasts could carry two people easy, and because they were somewhat protective of their owners, they proved to be very handy guard animals.
This man was on foot. He had a pack strapped to his back and enough weaponry to have her eyebrows going up.
All those weapons were the first thing that set him apart.
Even though he was surrounded by other refugees, he looked to be traveling alone—that was the second thing that set him apart.
It wasn’t wise to go anywhere alone. Not here. Not even now that the Gate was out of commission. They no longer had to worry about raids from Anqar but it was far from safe in their devastated pocket of the world. Demons ran amok in the heavy forests covering the valleys at the base of the Roinan Mountains. There were still Warlords as well, those who had been in Ishtan when the Gate collapsed. Syn suspected those Warlords weren’t too damn happy about being trapped in a primitive, inferior world, good only for the slaves it provided for them.
Going anywhere alone was a bad, bad idea.
But there he was—a lone, rather wild-looking wolf amid a bunch of scared and nervous sheep.
His hair was black, as black as her own, but it didn’t have the same blue-black hue to it. It was dense and dark, no hints of red or brown. He wore it pulled back in a stubby tail that left his rough features unframed. He had high cheekbones, a broad forehead, and his mouth looked as if he never smiled. Broad shoulders stretched the worn cloth of his tunic. If it had ever had sleeves, he’d long since ripped or cut them off. His arms were long, tanned and roped with muscles. He had thick wrists, and she had suspected part of the reason for those rather impressive arms was the blade she saw sticking over his shoulder.
It wasn’t a sword. She didn’t need to see it to know that—long swords weren’t exactly the weapon of choice. Pulsars were—handheld weapons that delivered a pulsating blast that could either disable or kill. But all of her soldiers carried blades and they could use them if they had to.
Somehow, Syn suspected this man would prefer the blade over the pulsar he had strapped to his thigh.
The most arresting feature about this man wasn’t his weapons, or his face, or the way he seemed to take in everything with one quick, trained glance. It wasn’t even the patch he wore over his left eye, although her gaze did linger there a minute. She imagined his lack of vision on that side didn’t slow him down one bit.
No, the most arresting thing about him was the way he carried himself.
He kept to the back of the group, and if she didn’t know better, she might have mistaken him for one of her own. Except for the threadbare clothes and noted lack of cavinir, the flexible body armor most of the rebels wore, he blended in perfectly with her troops. Ready and aware, fully prepared for danger even this close to the camp.
It made her wonder how rough the journey from Sacril had been. It also reminded her that she had a job to do, and she forced herself to look away. It may be great fun to briefly ogle one of the more interesting men to enter through their gates. But doing so didn’t get the job done.
Right now, she needed to get ready to speak with the commander, she needed to speak with the men who’d accompanied the refugees and then she had to speak with the refugees themselves. And that was going to be such fun.
Sighing, she flicked a hand through her short, dark hair. “At least this is the last time.”
She hoped.
The Roinan territory was just too dangerous now. The refugee camps had been decimated over the past few weeks. Most of the refugees entering through the main gate didn’t realize it, but in a couple of days, they were going to be on an eastbound convoy. Kalen was evacuating the territory. Civilians wouldn’t be forced to leave, but they couldn’t remain in the camp, and the only people getting an escort were those on the convoy.
If they didn’t join the convoy, they were on their own.
Once these refugees were out of here, the rebel army would focus on the demon infestation and only on the demon infestation. Splitting their time and energy between helping the refugees and culling the demons had proven too dangerous. They were losing lives, they were losing ground and they were losing both too fast.
It had to stop. Considering their limited resources, they had to focus on the threat presented by the demons. It was the only logical choice.
But somehow, Syn suspected these men and women weren’t going to be pleased with logic.
It was organized chaos.
There was no other way to describe it. Xan stood on the sidelines, watching as the soldiers herded every last refugee into a long, low-ceilinged building.
Two men stood at the door, questioning each person that entered.
“Any combat experience? No? Sit on the right. Yes? Sit on the left. That’s all you need to do for now.”
Any and all questions were ignored. But that didn’t keep the refugees from asking. The line moved interminably slowly. Xan kept a light hand on one of the straps that held his pack in place, the other on the shorter blade at his waist. He had dealt with enough thieves over the past few months to know that none of them was above robbing people blind right under the noses of the only law this part of the world had.
From all reports, this forsaken territory had been cut adrift, left to falter or thrive on its own as the rest of the world recovered.
Well, perhaps the Roinan territory was not completely on its own. The outside still took in refugees. Xan had heard they even had “programs” designed to help the refugees integrate into life outside a war zone. Motivated by guilt, perhaps. It might be the only way they could allay the guilt they carried for allowing these people to fight a war that should have been fought by all.
At one time, that war had been fought by all.
The Gates—bridges that connected an alien world to this one—were controlled by Anqar and had allowed slavers to raid this world. And the magic needed to control them was one wielded by Anqarians—by their Warlords and Sirvani.
For centuries untold, Anqar had preyed on this world, kidnapping women and using it as their breeding ground, The Anqarian Warlords needed women with strong, talented blood—preferably witches—to keep their race strong, and fewer and fewer women were being born to their people. When the time came for them to seek a bride, they looked across the Gates to this world . . . and took one by force.
But then, over time, for reasons none truly understood, the Gates started to falter. And as the Gates fell, the raids across the world became more infrequent, until finally, only one strong Gate remained.
The Roinan Gate.
When that happened, the world outside of the Roinan territory seemed content to pretend that everything was just as fine as could be.
For some time, only Kalen Brenner and his army of rebels stood between the one remaining Gate and the rest of Ishtan. The rest of Ishtan seemed quite content to let it remain so.
But they took in the refugees who couldn’t fight.
&
nbsp; Sometimes, they even sent back supplies.
When they remembered.
Xan finally reached the door and met the gaze of the soldier closest to him. The man looked Xan over from head to toe and then a smile of camaraderie lit his face. “I don’t think I need to ask if you have combat experience, do I?”
Xan just shrugged.
“You do have combat experience, right?”
He gave a curt nod and was waved inside. He didn’t sit. He took up a position with his back against the wall. He wasn’t the only one. A handful of others were doing the same, guarding their backs, even now, when they were in the one safehold this territory had. One by one, each of them met his gaze. A quick glance, a nod, and then they all resumed their survey of the crowd.
Xan settled in beside them and started his own survey. It was a sorry lot of people, that was for certain.
As more and more people packed in, he gripped his blade tighter.