Veil of Shadows

by Walker, Shiloh

  “Yes, Lee. We can tell.”

  Xan recognized that voice. It was Syn. Following the sound of the voice, he found her standing on the edge of the circle. He hadn’t seen her outside of training for close to a week. And he had looked. Often. More often than he wanted to think about.

  Willing his tense muscles to relax, he made his way to her side, watching the two fighters in the circle.

  “Who is she?” he asked as he stopped next to her.

  “Lee. His wife.” Syn didn’t look up at him as she responded.

  “Lee.” He murmured the name to himself and frowned. He hadn’t heard anything about the commander of the Roinan camp being married. “Wife?”

  “Yes—fairly recent. They were married not long ago—maybe two weeks before you showed up.”

  “Not long after the Gate fell, then. Strange time to wed.”

  “If we waited for a more ideal time, none of us would ever marry. None of us would ever have any sort of life outside the damned war.” Syn grimaced. Her features smoothed out and she gave him a questioning look. “Are you getting around the camp okay?”

  “Yes. I was on my way to my dormer when I heard them.” He looked back at the sparring partners.

  “She’s very much taken,” Syn said dryly, following his stare and wondering why the intensity of it left her feeling a little edgy.

  It’s because of Lee, she told herself. Lee was still getting acclimated. Syn considered Lee and Kalen her friends. They had a new marriage, and although it seemed solid, it just wasn’t right that they had some big, sexy brooder paying too much attention to Lee.

  It was a perfectly logical way to feel.

  It was also a lie. He was a big, sexy brooder, but what bothered her was the fact that she wanted him paying attention to her, not Lee.

  “Taken?” Xan turned to look at her, cocking his head. He had to turn his head completely to see her—she was standing to his left, on his blind side.

  “Yes. Taken—you do remember the part about them being married, right?”

  “Of course. It’s only been a minute since you mentioned it.” A black brow arched over his eye and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Why do you ask?”

  Syn shrugged and focused back on Lee and Kalen. “You just seem very keen on staring at her.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman.”

  Lee was beautiful. There was no denying that. She had the gilded, golden looks of an angel, the wiry, quick strength of a born fighter. It wasn’t any big surprise that Xan had noticed her.

  No, the surprise was that Syn was jealous. Screw being protective of her friends—she wasn’t worked up over Xan noticing her friend Lee, who happened to be married.

  She was worked up because Xan had noticed Lee.

  Hell. She really did need to find a man and work off some of this tension.

  But getting away from him was priority number one because the longer she remained this close, the worse that tension got. She gave him a tight smile and said, “You have a good night, Xan.” Then she turned and tried to lose herself in the crowd.

  Tried.

  Failed.

  Because he followed her.

  Once more, he was at her side, and now they were alone, no longer in a very, very public place.

  Not good.

  “Have I done something that’s offended you, Captain?” he asked, his voice level.

  She shot him a glance and silently said, Offend? No. Bother? Hell, yes. Everything you do manages to bother me somehow.

  Out loud, she just said, “Of course not.”

  “Then why is it that anytime I try to speak to you, you move in the opposite direction as quickly as possible?”

  Syn was thankful the sol-lights weren’t very bright. All they did was give off enough illumination to make out the paths in the base camp. Nowhere near enough light that Xan would see her blushing. Keeping her voice level, she said, “Do I? I haven’t noticed.”

  “You also do not look at me unless it’s to give me an order to get in the circle or inform me that my knowledge on tech weapons is disgustingly shoddy,” he said, his voice dry, referencing a comment she’d made the day before.

  Syn stared straight ahead. “I do look at you.”

  No, she didn’t.

  “No. You do not.” He reached out and caught her arm, pulling her to a halt.

  Syn looked up at him and immediately tried to pull away. The grasp he had on her arm prevented it, though. He didn’t hold her tight enough to hurt, but he wasn’t letting her pull away.

  Glaring up at him, she jerked on her arm.

  A smile curled the harsh line of his mouth, softened it. “Now you are looking at me.

  “Is it this?” He reached up and touched the patch covering his eye. “More than one person has had a hard time meeting my gaze because of it. Although I would have thought you were more accustomed to those with unsightly scars.”

  There was no inflection in his voice, and though the light was dim, she could see his face well enough to know there was no expression on it.

  “Your scars don’t bother me at all. They aren’t unsightly—I’ve seen far, far worse. God knows, we all have our share of them.” She jerked a shoulder and said, “Some of us have scars much uglier, although many carry them on the inside.”

  “Then why do you never look at me?”

  Syn felt the blush once more start its slow climb up her neck, staining her cheeks, her face. “I do look at you. I am looking at you.”

  “Because I’ve all but made you,” he replied, his brow arching. “Truthfully, if I wasn’t touching you, if I wasn’t asking you for a straight answer, what would you be doing?”

  “Truthfully?” She tore her gaze away from him. Truthfully —she didn’t want to tell him truthfully. But what was she to do? Lie? Somehow, she suspected that unless she gave him an answer, he would wait forever.

  She could break his hold, and she knew he wouldn’t force it, but she would feel foolish doing that.

  Swallowing, she looked back up at him and said flatly, “If you weren’t touching me, if you weren’t pushing for an answer, I’d be clear on the other side of camp.” On the other side of camp. Alone. And cold. Again. Always cold. Except when you touch me. How sick was it that the highlight of her days now centered on when there was training and she could put herself in the circle with him? She’d spar with him, and only him, every damn day if it wouldn’t have looked so suspicious.

  “Why? Again, I ask you, have I offended you?”

  “No.” She forced the word past her tight throat.

  “Then if it isn’t that, if it isn’t my scars, perhaps it is just me.”

  “No.” The word slipped out before she could stop it. Idiot. If she was half as interested in self-preservation as she should be, she should let him think just that. If he thought she had a personal problem with him, maybe he would leave her alone.

  But I don’t know if I really want him to leave me alone. And her body already knew it didn’t want to be left alone.

  “Then what is it?”

  He was closer now, Syn realized. When had he moved closer? She swallowed, aware that her throat was terribly dry, that her heart was racing. Her head was spinning, too. Damn it, he smelled good.

  She had to tip her head back to see him now. She could feel that seductive heat of his, shimmering between them. The heavy intensity that made up his being had surrounded her, slammed at her shields. Through them, she felt something she really didn’t need to feel. Not if she wanted to keep her distance.

  He was every bit as aware of her as she was of him.

  Every damn bit.

  Her control shattered and she reached up, hooked her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head lower. As she slanted her mouth against his, she felt his surprise—it lasted all of two seconds before he wrapped both arms around her body and hauled her close. He straightened and her feet left the ground.

  Their mouths opened, and she shuddered as she traced
her tongue along his lower lip. Male. The heady male taste, his scent, all of it flooded her, and she wrapped her other arm around his shoulders, straining to get closer.

  Want . . . need.

  It dominated Xan’s every thought and he was just a heartbeat away from forgetting everything—himself, where they were—a heartbeat away from forgetting everything and everybody who wasn’t Syn.

  She tasted like honey and heat. Her mouth was soft under his, but there was nothing hesitant in the way she kissed him. She kissed him like she craved him. Like she absolutely had to do it or die.

  Off in the distance, he heard voices. Instinctively, he moved, walking blind until they were lost in the shadows between two buildings. There, he backed her up against a wall and leaned into her.

  Syn wrapped her legs around his hips and rocked against him.

  Xan was utterly convinced the top of his head was going to come off if she did it again. Sliding a hand down her side, he cupped her hip and growled against her lips, “Do that again.”

  She did, smiling against his lips as he shuddered.

  Gripping her hips in his hands, he held her steady and rocked against her, over and over, striving to get closer, despite the clothing that separated them. She whimpered low in her throat. Tearing his mouth from hers, he raked his teeth down her neck and bit her where her neck curved into her shoulder.

  “Is this why?” he demanded, lifting his head and staring down at her.

  The light was dim, so dim, all he could make out was the shape of her face, the glitter of her cat’s eyes. And her mouth . . . Damn it all, her mouth. She licked her lips and he was hard-pressed not to dip his head and catch her lower lip in his mouth.

  “Is this why?” he asked again, nudging his aching erection against the warmth between her thighs.

  “Yes,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, and her body shuddered as she sucked in a deep breath. “This is exactly why.”

  “You’re attracted to me.”

  A wry grin curled her lips and she asked sardonically, “Isn’t that obvious?”

  “Is there a problem, you being attracted to me?” But even as he asked it, he wanted to kick himself. Of course there was. This might not be recognized as a “formal” military unit in the outside world, but they ran it as such.

  “There is a problem,” she admitted.

  Clenching his jaw, he reached behind and unhooked the ankles she had wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Then I’ll apologize. I would do nothing to endanger your position here.” He went to move away.

  But she grabbed his arm. Staring up at him, she shook her head. Some of the light from the path outside their narrow alley filtered in, falling across her face. “This wouldn’t cause a problem with my position. Only my actions would do that and the commander would personally kick my ass from here clear into Anqar if I let personal issues affect how I did my job.

  “When it comes to certain areas, we don’t operate like the formal military would—we can’t. This is our lives, and if we were never allowed anything outside our jobs . . . Well, we need to remember why we fight.” She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. “Lee and Kalen, they have something between them that might not exist if we insisted there be no ‘fraternizing’ among ourselves. We outnumber the civilians four to one and if it came down to only having . . . ah . . . relationships with civilians, we’d have a lot of infighting and animosity over it. We’re allowed to do whatever we wish on personal time.”

  He narrowed his eyes, trying to follow her thinking. Unsuccessfully. Women. They were incomprehensible. She was attracted to him but wouldn’t pursue it. Not because it posed a problem with her job, though. So why?

  “If it isn’t that, then why? What is this problem?”

  Syn glanced away, once more pushing her fingers through her short, dark hair. A nervous habit, he was coming to realize. “You don’t understand the idea of asking easy questions, do you?”

  “If the questions are easy, likely so are the answers, and I can find them on my own.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “If it isn’t because of some law within the base camp, and if it isn’t because you are not attracted to me, then why?”

  “It’s because I’m attracted,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know if I need the complications it can bring me.”

  “So you need time to . . . what, decide if you want these complications?”

  Unsmiling, she nodded.

  Something inside his heart clenched and knotted. Then, as bizarre as it might seem, he felt as though some small part of him started to die. It took everything he had to let his hand drop. It took even more to make himself take a step back. He reached down and caught her hand, lifting it to his lips. Pressing his mouth to the back of her hand, he murmured, “Then take that time. Should you decide you want . . . complications . . . I am not hard to find.”

  Absolutely fucking wrong, Syn decided three days later.

  Xan was hard to find. Very hard.

  Should you decide you want . . . complications . . . I am not hard to find.

  Syn wasn’t entirely convinced she wanted complications, but she did want him, and it was growing painfully clear if she didn’t decide to risk those complications, she could say farewell to a decent night’s sleep. For quite some time.

  Not to mention that the chill was worse now. It was like those few brief touches had done something to her inside, and now she felt the cold in a way she could no longer ignore. Although it was still smoldering hot outside, she was so chilled, she’d taken to wearing long-sleeved tunics under her cavinir vest. She couldn’t handle it much longer.

  She needed to feel that heat of his. She needed him.

  She’d made that decision yesterday. But when she went to look for him after they’d finished training and their various job rotations in the evening, he had been nowhere to be found. He was serving on weapons detail, learning more about the tech-based weapons and repairing them. She’d already been assured that at some point, he’d likely be helping design the weapons. It didn’t surprise her. She knew he had a canny mind. But she wouldn’t address this while one or both of them were supposed to be on duty.

  Now she couldn’t find him outside of the job, and it was only irritating her even more.

  In the past three days, ever since she’d lost her mind completely and kissed him, she had been having a very hard time not thinking about him. While she worked, she could make herself focus. It wasn’t hard to do . . . Matters like sex and need did manage to pale next to matters of life and death. Both of them definitely had jobs that dealt with matters of life and death.

  So while she was busy, she could deal with the cold that ached inside her, and she could deal with how acutely empty and lonely she was. Until he touched her, she hadn’t realized just how cold, just how lonely, she was.

  But when she was no longer focusing on her job, in the nights when she lay awake and longing for him, he dominated her thoughts.

  She needed him to touch her, to chase that cold loneliness away.

  Gritting her teeth together, she strode out of the common area where she’d hoped to find him. It was time for the evening meal—why in the hell wasn’t he eating in one of the common areas provided for just that?

  Frustrated, and getting more so with every passing second, she followed one of the lesser-used paths and tried to figure out just where she might find him.

  And what do you intend to do when you find him? she asked herself silently.

  Her belly clenched. “Is jumping him an option?” she mumbled.

  “Jump who?”

  Even the sound of his voice, low and smooth and deep, made her shiver. The icy knot inside dissolved, just like that. Just that easy. Just that simple. He hadn’t even touched her.

  Just the sound of his voice thawed the ice.

  But the aching loneliness lingered.

  Stopping in her tracks, she turned her head, following the sound of that voice. He
was in the very outer edges of the camp, sitting with his back to the camp’s inner wall, with a knife in his hand. He stared at her, and the heat in that one dark, dark eye was unmistakable.

  Her knees threatened to give out.

  Swallowing, she started toward him, placing one foot in front of the other and trying to decide if she should really do this.

  Then he leaned his head back at the camp’s inner wall and a faint smile curled his lips as he stared at her. “You are utterly beautiful,” he murmured.

  Oh, hell yes, she wanted to do this. And not because of the compliment, although it did further serve to weaken her knees. But because when he looked at her, with that intent, probing stare, it made her feel as though all he saw was her. It made her see nothing but him.

  It made her forget she was anything, anybody, other than just herself. She was simply Syn . . . and it made her want him that much more.

  Sinking to her knees beside him, she eyed the knife in his hand. He was carving something. She eyed it curiously and glanced up at him. “What are you doing?”

  He brandished the bit of wood in his hand. “Trying to occupy my mind so I do not come looking for you. And you . . . I do not need to ask what you are doing. You are avoiding giving me an answer.” A grin curled his lips and he added, “Again.”

  “Avoiding giving you what answer?”

  He lowered his lashes, staring at her from under them, and murmured, “You said something about jumping someone. I asked who. You haven’t answered.”

  “You already know the answer,” she said slowly. She flexed her hands and then rested them on her thighs. Hopefully, it would keep her from reaching for him. Hopefully.

  “So you want to jump me . . . What exactly does that mean? Have I not been the good little soldier boy for you, Captain?” As he asked, something glittered in his eyes.

  Something wicked. Something hot.

  Her heart started to race. “You know, I’ve never once felt the need to strip naked when somebody calls me Captain. Until now.”

  “Are you feeling the need to strip naked?”

  She bit her lip. Curled her fingers into the thick, durable fabric of her pants, gripping it desperately. “Yes.”