Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
Teaser chapter
Praise for HUNTER’S SALVATION
“One of the best tales in a series that always achieves high marks . . . An excellent thriller that sub-genre fans will appreciate.” —Midwest Book Review
Praise for
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 in Hunting the Hunter. 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. Hunting the Hunter comes highly regarded by this reviewer, and she cannot wait to get her hands on the next book in the series . . . Do not walk! Run to get your copy today!”
—A Romance Review
“An exhilarating romantic fantasy filled with suspense and two interesting protagonists struggling with the prohibited feelings of 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
Books by Shiloh Walker
HUNTING THE HUNTER
HUNTER’S SALVATION
THROUGH THE VEIL
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
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.
THROUGH THE VEIL
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with Shiloh Walker, Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / June 2008
Copyright © 2008 by Shiloh Walker, Inc.
All rights reserved.
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eISBN : 978-1-436-24152-6
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Thanks to my husband, Jerry.
You gave me the idea, darlin’.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Anqar
A world overrun by demons and warlords.
Body slave
A female taken from offworld. Since females are taken for the sole purpose of breeding, Warlords and Sirvani search for females of “talented” blood, sometimes taking entire families in the dead of night. Males are put into manual slavery; women are mated to as many as five Warlords.
If a body slave delivers a female child, her Warlord may free her from slavery. Female children are highly prized, and their mothers are well treated, almost pampered, by their Warlord. The Warlord may also decide to formally bond and mate with the slave, elevating her in the Warlord hierarchy.
Commoners
Term applied to the non-gifted race of Anqar. They may own land, but they cannot own slaves. Commoners may marry and mate among themselves, although if a female is born, she may be claimed as a mate to a Warlord. This happens rarely—Warlords only want females that can bear them gifted children, so the female must have some form of talent.
If the female is mated to a commoner, no Warlord would take her as his own. The mating bond is respected among the Warlords. Female children are much more common among commoners, but still very rare.
Daisha
A female child born to a Warlord and a female. Daishan are highly prized, protected, and not allowed to serve in the army, but they may own land, slaves, participate in government, own and run businesses, and serve on advisory councils. Rarely, Daishan will join in the raids on Ishtan—it’s considered exotic to observe a raid. However, due to the danger, it only happens rarely. By age twenty-five, a Daisha is required to marry a Warlord or Sirvani, although she may choose her future mate. In times past, Daishan were given away in arranged unions.
For unknown reasons, Warlords rarely produce female offspring.
Dumir
A tough, durable cloth used to make battle gear for Anqarian soldiers.
Gate
A doorway between the worlds. Gates cannot be built. They simply exist and they cannot be moved. Warlords alone have the power to open a gate, allowing travel between the worlds. The ability to open a gate is what separates Sirvani from Warlord. In times past, a gate, once opened, could only be closed by a Warlord. Over time, gates started to close on their own. Opening a gate causes severe natural disruption in both worlds, so Warlords only open gates when they plan to raid Ishtan.
Ikacado demons
More advanced humanoids found in Anqar. They spread to Ishtan when the gates rise, and they travel in packs, preying on the weak, the old or the very young. Fiery creatures, they are immune to most weapons except those that produce sub-zero temperatures.
Ishtan
A realm located between
mortal Earth and the demonic realm of Anqar.
Jorniak demons
Primitive humanoids found in Anqar. They feed on human flesh. Physically strong, but with no extraordinary abilities. They travel in hordes and will attack anybody that they can easily overpower. Small groups of people and loners are particularly at risk. Jorniaks are the size of a human male, with long limbs and a short trunk. Their skin is thick and tough, too tough for average-bladed weapons. Lasers are a weapon of choice for killing Jorniaks in Ishtan.
Mating bond
A recognized union between a man and woman of Anqar. Commoners rarely have unity ceremonies. Warlords may never form a mating bond. They will only form a union with a woman that has borne them healthy children. Children are a sign of prowess and good fortune, so many Warlords will simply mate without bonding to have as many children as possible.
Raviners
A more advanced demonic race. Humanoid and blood-thirsty, they often capture humans and torture them to death. They are born empaths and feed off negative energy. They can also force their essence into a human host, destroying the human’s mind and turning him into a mindless killer.
Raviners are tall and thin with gray skin and small, pink eyes. They cannot tolerate sunlight.
Sirvani
Sirvani are the offspring of Warlords. If they come into full power, they are then given the title of Warlord. Not all Sirvani will become Warlords, although they are stronger than commoners and may achieve high rank in a Warlord’s army.
Sirvani live free and may own land and slaves, run businesses, participate in local political matters or serve Warlords in an advisory capacity. Service in the army is optional, but many choose to serve, as this is the quickest way to secure a female for their own personal use. Although Sirvani cannot open the gates or see through the Veil, they may have smaller mage or psy skills. Sirvani tend to be very loyal to their chosen Warlord.
Talent
Psychic (psy) or mage (magickal) ability. “Talented” blood refers to a family line that is likely to produce many children with talents.
Tersin
A light, concealing material manufactured in Ishtan.
Tiris
A body slave who was formally mated to her Warlord but freed after producing either one female child or a number of healthy, talented male children. In the hierarchy of Anqar, she is in the high echelon. High Lord, Warlord, Daishan, Tiris.
Veil
The barrier between dimensions. Humans with psychic or magickal talents can be trained to see the Veil and beyond.
Warlords
The rulers of Anqar. Their power is bloodborn. Initially, the offspring of a Warlord is known as a Sirvani. If a Sirvani achieves Warlord status, it will be before the age of forty. Rank is obtained through physical and magickal battles—battles are usually to the death. Because of this, powerful Warlords can attain higher rank in a short amount of time.
The High Lord is the most powerful Warlord in Anqar. His rank cannot be obtained through battle. The title is passed to the most powerful Warlord related to the High Lord by blood, and it is only passed with the High Lord’s death.
Zandir wyrms
Colossal subterranean snake-like creatures, drawn to heavily populated areas. They spread from Anqar to Ishtan as larvae.
ONE
Her body ached.
It wasn’t anything new. Although Lee was only twenty-eight years old, she already felt ancient. Exhausted even upon awakening, with stiff aching joints and bruises that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Lee slowly flexed her muscles and tried to hold together the fragile wisps of the dream. But as always, it faded away, out of reach, out of mind. He faded away.
She didn’t know his face. But each night he came to her. Each night, they found each other again. He would look at her with eyes that made her burn and want and wish, and for that brief period of time, she felt whole—complete—and that sensation lingered with her as she drifted from sleep into awareness. But the minute she opened her eyes, all memory of her dreams started to fade. All that remained was an ache in her chest, a knot in her throat and a body that felt as though somebody had tried to beat her to death.
Today, the ache was worse. The memories were fading fast although she tried to hold on to them. Like smoke, though, they faded away even as she grabbed the notepad by her bed and started to scrawl down what little she remembered. She didn’t look down while she wrote—instead she clenched her eyes tightly shut and focused on him. Even if she couldn’t remember his face, she could remember how he made her feel inside. Focusing on that instead of trying to recall the dream made the words flow more easily.
Blood. Screams. Smoke. The cries of the wounded. Ugly snarls and fetid breath. People clamored for her and they had needs that she couldn’t even begin to understand. And him—
Always him. Everything seemed to revolve around him, and everything inside of her yearned for him. As much as Lee dreaded closing her eyes and facing the strange dreams that assaulted her while she slept, she yearned for them as well. Because her dreams led her to him. He would make her laugh, even when the dreams were dark as death. There was a warmth in his presence that filled an empty ache.
But not this past night. There had been distance, anger, and disgust. He’d yelled at her. His fury had been so great that even now she felt chilled by it.
She opened her eyes and stared at the notepad in front of her. She hadn’t just written words. She’d sketched out faces of people she’d never met and monsters the likes of which she’d never seen.
She stared at each of the faces she’d drawn, studying its features for something that would trigger her memories again. The notebook was filled with sketches and notes, and none of them meant anything to her. All of them were set against twisted, scarred landscapes.
Some of the figures appeared more than others, like the old woman and the two guys. Even on paper, the woman’s smile had a decidedly mischievous bent to it, as though she was laughing and Lee had no idea why. The men were polar opposites, one pale, one dark. One looked like an angel and the other had the devil’s smile. Both of them were enough to make a girl’s heart skip a beat, but if the man she dreamed of was one of them, she didn’t know which one he was.
Furious with herself, Lee hurled the pad of paper across the room and watched as it hit the wall. It slid to the ground, several of the pages bent and crumpled. With a scowl, she climbed out of the bed and stalked to the bathroom.
“He isn’t real,” she told herself as she turned the hot water on full before turning to tug off her T-shirt. “He isn’t real.” He’s not, her mind insisted, even though something inside her heart argued.
Her reflection caught her eye and she stilled, fighting the impulse to turn and look. Damn it, she was going to take all the mirrors down. She couldn’t not look, when the mirrors were there.
But every time she saw a bruise, a chill ran through her. It was no different this time. Her eye was black, swollen, raw looking. It had been fine last night. Her mouth trembled as she tried to make sense of what she was looking at.
The doctors had tried to tell her she was doing it to herself. They had even done a sleep study and watched her all night long to determine what caused the bruising.
The study had revealed nothing. And everything.
For when she walked out of the room where they had monitored her body all night, her ankle was swollen, twisted and discolored. It had been fine the night before.
The tape of the study had shown her lying quietly on the narrow bunk, never once rising in the night. She didn’t toss. She didn’t turn. The only weird thing was a blip in the middle of the tape that lasted no more than a few eye blinks. For that brief span of time, the bed was empty. But she hadn’t gotten out of the bed. The probes and lines weren’t long enough to allow her to leave it without one of the attendants disconnecting them. They hadn’t done it.
Odder still, an attendant had been in the room during the blip. They could s
ee him at the edge of the screen. But he’d never seen her move. She hadn’t done any more studies after that. Even though the doctors tried to urge her to agree, it had simply unsettled her too much. So no more studies. She’d just deal with looking like the loser of a boxing match.
Lee leaned forward and probed her eye, touching it gently, wincing at the tender flesh she encountered under her fingers. The eye itself looked fine, which was a relief. There had been one morning when she woke up and her pupil was blown. Her vision had been blurred, and the sickening pain made her think she had a concussion. By nightfall, though, the pupil had returned to normal and her vision was fine.
Today, her eyes seemed a little more bloodshot than usual, and the red looked unnaturally bright against the nasty mottled blue. Almost festive, the red, white and blue.
There was another bruise on her knee, like she had fallen down. The flesh was sensitive, and each step she took sent pain shooting through her knee. Much as the knee hurt, it was actually a rather light night. Lee knew from experience, though, that that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Light nights seemed to be followed by bad ones.
Her gut churned as that thought circled through her head. Bad ones came with concussions, broken bones— even burns. It had been a while since she’d had a real bad night, and it was like a little mental clock was ticking away the time. It wouldn’t be much longer before she woke up one morning hurt so bad that she’d wish for death, just to get away from the pain.
Even if she did heal fast, pain was still pain and she was tired of feeling so much of it.
“Morbid, much?” she muttered as she turned away from her reflection. She climbed into the shower with one goal in mind. Shower . . . then caffeine. With caffeine, she could face almost anything.
Through the Veil, Kalen could see her. Stubborn little bitch. He could still just faintly smell the sweet scent of her skin, and his hands still itched to feel that satiny skin underhis hands, to feel the silk of her hair brush against his body. The vivid bruise on her face infuriated him, even though her ability to heal rapidly was already lessening the vivid color and the swelling.
Through the Veil Page 1
