Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel)

by Robin Bielman

Dane got right in her face. “We don’t need your help.”

  She pushed him in the chest. Hard. “Do not speak to me like that ever again or you’ll find yourself singing soprano.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Try me. You’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.” Not all Night Runners are created equal, she decided. Dane, she wanted to kill. Could kill. Right now.

  “Nor you I.” He whispered the retort like he didn’t want Hugh to hear.

  Was he an idiot? Didn’t Hugh hear everything? She glanced toward him. Okay, maybe right this minute his senses weren’t too keen. But threaten her? Dane’s warning rumbled though her, leaving a cold, resentful feeling she wanted to hang on to for as long as she was breathing.

  “So what’s your interesting information?” she asked, eyebrows raised and her hands itching to hit something.

  Dane moved closer to Hugh, attempting to cut her off from the conversation. “They told me—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Hugh slid down the car. In. Slow. Motion. His legs slipped out from under him until he landed on his butt. His head lolled forward as if he’d fallen asleep.

  “Jesus Christ,” Dane said, moving to Hugh’s side.

  Tess moved too, kneeling to the ground beside Hugh. Dane lifted Hugh’s head and the blue eyes that had mesmerized her hours ago were almost completely drained of color. Thankfully, he blinked a few times, allowing her to catch the breath she’d held when he slumped to the ground.

  “Fuck,” Hugh said, a groan following.

  “Where is it?” Dane asked. “I’ll run and get it. Be back as fast as I can.”

  “Where’s what?” Tess hated being left out of the loop and worried that whatever it was wasn’t going to get to Hugh in time.

  “It’s an antibiotic. An antidote. In case of emergencies like these, we usually carry a small vile of liquid to drink to counter the effects of certain poisons that affect our tissue replacement. Small amounts of poison don’t affect us, but larger amounts… Fuck, Hugh. How long were the Banoth’s fangs in you?”

  “Too long,” he said, turning his head to peek at Tess. “But necessary.”

  “I’ll go get it,” she offered. “Tell me where it is and I’ll go get it.” The words flew out of her mouth without a second thought.

  “I’m not sure there’s enough time.” Hugh’s gaze remained on her.

  Don’t get emotional. Let him die. Your life will be so much easier. The job will be done. Finished. The boss will be happy.

  Dane stood and pivoted. His brisk steps told Tess he was thinking about what to do. But there wasn’t time to think. They needed to act. Do something now. And then a thought struck her.

  “Where’s your vial?” she asked, standing. “Can’t Hugh use yours?”

  “You don’t think I would’ve offered already?” he said, his tone spiteful. “I gave mine to a friend last week and keep forgetting to replace it.” He hung his head with a small shake.

  A golf-ball-sized lump sat in her throat. Maybe she’d misjudged Dane.

  Hugh let out a choke, startling Tess and bringing Dane closer. They squatted beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder.

  “There is something you can do.” This time Dane spoke to her as if they’d been friends for years.

  Tess didn’t want any more friends. The rapid pulses migrating back and forth between her chest and her gut were a clear indication that she did not—should not—get involved with these two wolfen.

  Yet she said, “What?”

  “I know this is going to sound strange, but your saliva—”

  “No.” Hugh shook his head in protest and let out probably the last deep breath he had.

  “Your saliva,” Dane continued, ignoring Hugh, “can save him. The enzymes in it act as a natural disinfectant and when they mix with the protein in the nerve growth factor of Night Runners, it breaks down the poison at the molecular level.”

  Biology was one of Tess’s favorite subjects in school, but this was a little over her head. “Is human female saliva in your vials?”

  “Not just female, but given the circumstance, I think you’re in a better position to help,” Dane said.

  “So what, you want me to lick his wounds?” There was no way she’d lick her own, let alone the shifter she was supposed to eliminate in the next few days.

  Hugh let out a small gurgled sound. “I said no.”

  Dane still wasn’t listening. “No. I want you to kiss him. The mouth will absorb the saliva much quicker than anywhere else and we’re running out of time.”

  “Kiss him? I don’t think so. I just met him.” She’d wanted to kiss Hugh five minutes after meeting him. Of course, she thought his name was Trey and he was human. And the beer sliding down her throat had lowered her inhibitions, and lessened her nervousness at being on a date with someone for the first time since Jason.

  Jason.

  He’d died in her arms and there hadn’t been a thing she could do to save him. Her eyes met Hugh’s. She could save him. Right here. Right now. With only a kiss. A little mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  “If you don’t, Tess, he’s going to die.”

  Chapter Seven

  An uneasy feeling settled in Tess’s gut. She’d never saved anyone before. Hugh might think she’d saved him in the warehouse, but she hadn’t. Not really. She’d only helped so she could eliminate him later. Under other circumstances. Because that was what she did. She manipulated situations and people—no, not people, Veilers—so that she could kill them.

  Suddenly, the ground felt cold as ice under her hands. The murmur of traffic in the distance evaporated, the whisper of wind ceased, the buildings around her faded into nothing. Her eyes were locked with Hugh’s, and what she saw there completely unnerved her.

  He’d said no. Twice he’d said no. He didn’t want her to do this, but in the faded blue eyes she couldn’t tear her gaze from, she saw fear. And humanity. She looked away before compassion ripped every ounce of obligation from her. Before she not only saved him, but spared his life no matter what it cost her.

  “I need a second,” she said, turning her head so she could think clearly. She hated, hated herself for even having to think. What kind of cruel, insensitive person was she? What kind of person didn’t save the life of another?

  A person owned by P.I.E., that’s who.

  What if…what if Hugh could help her find out who killed Jason? What if they could work out some sort of deal? A trade. She’d help him find Trey if he helped her find the wolfen responsible for Jason’s death. And at the same time, she could look into his life and find enough evidence to eliminate him.

  The arrangement would help solve all her current problems.

  She looked back to Hugh. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  Like a falling star, something twinkled in his eyes for the briefest moment. She straddled his legs, her dress inching up her thighs as she got comfortable. She placed her hands on the car on either side of his head, and moistened her lips with her tongue.

  “It might take some time,” Dane said, “so don’t let up until he breaks the connection. He’ll know when to stop.”

  Tess wondered exactly what kind of kiss this was supposed to be, but didn’t ask. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. She’d never get another chance to kiss him.

  She hadn’t kissed anyone since Jason, and now the thought of surrendering her mouth to Hugh’s made her hungrier for physical contact than she’d ever been.

  God, she was pathetic. Even in his weakened state, Hugh got her juices flowing.

  “This sure as hell better be on the up and up,” she said, “or there will be hell to—”

  Hugh cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. His lips were dry, frigid and stuck together. They tasted a little salty, like beef jerky.

  After a couple of seconds, his lips softened and relaxed. His eyes closed as they made deeper contact. And damn if that didn’t send a rush of warmth to everywh
ere she was cold. She’d forgotten how the gentle glide of lips could make her entire body feel wanted. Needed. Cherished. She’d wanted a kiss so badly tonight and now it meant more than she ever could have imagined.

  He moved his hands down her back to settle them on her hips, and pulled her tighter. She shimmied closer, her breasts meeting his chest while her hands slid down the car and curved around his shoulders.

  Her eyes fluttered shut. They settled into a tender kiss, their mouths grazing one another with the lightest, yet most significant touch. The stubble lining his jaw and upper lip was softer than she’d imagined. She liked it, enjoyed the texture that was all Hugh. The feel of him would forever be etched in her memory. And cause an eternity of torment.

  Reminding herself this was a cure and not a real kiss, she started making a mental list of all the things she hated. Liver and onions. I hate liver and onions. People who don’t say bless you when you sneeze. I hate those people. Filling my car up with gas. I hate that. Missing the perfect wave. That sucks. Blisters. I hate those bloody things, and I’m feeling one on the bottom of my foot right now. Stupid borrowed shoes. Stupidity. I hate stupidity. And what I’m doing right now is so stupid.

  Oh hell…

  Hugh parted his lips and hers immediately followed. His tongue swept into her mouth and swirled around in such a delicious way that she forgot about everything she hated. Forgot about what day it was, what year, what name she’d been given. Everything inside her turned pliant, soft, agreeable.

  One other man. Tess had only kissed one other man like this. And it was nothing like this. Bliss braided its way through her, explosive and terrifying. Every pain she’d endured over the years disappeared from memory. Their mouths made a seamless, perfect fit. Every tilt, every breath, every tangle of their tongues was as if she’d found where she belonged.

  She pressed her mouth firmer to his, the tenderness they’d started with giving way to a more heated connection. She felt him gaining strength, could sense it in the pressure he kissed her with, but also in the way his body perked up. His slouch vanished, his chest puffed out, his grip on her tightened. And his very hard length pressed against her.

  Tess almost jerked away, his arousal bringing her too close to losing the thread of control she had left. But the satisfaction, the knowledge that she had turned him on when he’d been so close to death, rendered her unable to stop. She opened her eyes and saw color had returned to his cheeks, sweat no longer dotted his forehead.

  The kiss was working.

  A smile spread across her lips, and his eyes flew open. The cloudless sky blue hue was back. Passion and recklessness too. They gazed at one another for a few more seconds before her eyelids closed, catapulting her back to the euphoric state of saving his life.

  She moved one hand to the back of his head where her fingers ran through the soft hair curling just above his jacket collar. Her other hand moved down to his chest, where she spread her palm to feel the strong beat of his heart.

  He kissed her harder, faster, deeper. His mouth opened wider and his tongue grew more playful, the tip of it moving back and forth around the inside of her lips, then slipping in deeper. Tess imagined his mouth attached to other parts of her body and tingles like fireworks on the Fourth of July settled deep in her belly. Lower.

  She wanted to grind against him, wanted to feel his rock hard length more intimately, to hell with whoever was watching. But she fought it, kept her physical wants in check. It had been too long since she’d had sex. Her body’s betrayal stemmed from lack of intimacy, she told herself. It had absolutely nothing to do with Hugh.

  Nothing to do with his sexy mouth taking hers like it was the last kiss he’d ever have.

  His hands roamed possessively up her back, around to her sides, and grazed the outside swell of her breasts. A moan escaped his lips, a turned-on gasp left hers. The kiss grew more fevered, more urgent. His hands continued to her thighs. The dress had crept up further and tingles hot and potent pulsed at the juncture there. Sweet sensations and anticipation as to his next move overwhelmed her.

  And then before she was ready—before she was willing—he pulled away.

  He fixed her with appreciative eyes before a warm, closed mouth smile spread across his well-kissed lips.

  Her breathing ragged, and the job done, she quickly regained her composure lest anyone see how the kiss had affected her. “You look better.”

  “I feel better.”

  “Guess I’m a good dose of medicine.”

  A gulp made its way down his throat. “Nothing’s more dangerous than a cure with curves.”

  Not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, she rose to her feet, making sure her dress was back in place. Then she willed herself to look away from the man who’d just made her feel more in two minutes than she had in twenty-eight years.

  “I think it worked,” she called across the street to Dane. She was glad he hadn’t been hovering while they kissed, even though it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  “Looks like it,” he answered, crossing the road and nodding toward Hugh.

  Tess turned to find him standing. He looked a hundred times better with only a hint of discomfort evident in his furrowed brows. He ran a hand through his hair.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Ever again. She needed to forget that kiss. Forget how hellishly good it felt. Now that she’d saved him, she had a job to do.

  “You good to go?” Dane asked. “No lightheadedness, nausea?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You mean after all that sucking face, you still don’t feel good?”

  “No worries,” he answered, “I feel good, but I’ll feel even better in an hour or two.” His gaze took her in from head to toe before he moved his eyes to Dane. “What did you find out?”

  “Don’t you want to send her on her way first?”

  “I am standing right here. And I think I just proved that you don’t have to worry about talking in front of me.” She spoke to Dane, afraid to look at Hugh after the perusal he just gave her. Was he looking at her that way because he wanted her with him in an hour or two? She shivered at the thought.

  Dane ignored her, choosing to raise his eyebrows at Hugh.

  “I’ll leave when I’m ready,” she added, wanting to make a deal with Hugh before she went anywhere. The muscles in her back tensed and she blinked furiously. She didn’t think it was possible, but the situation bloomed a weird sensation of wanting to belong inside her.

  “And when will that be?” Dane asked in a boorish tone.

  Hugh stepped by her side. “That’s enough, Dane.” His firm voice left no room for a retort.

  She treated Dane to another one of her winning smiles while the rest of her body relaxed. Hugh’s show of camaraderie drained the blood from Dane’s face. The victory caused a flutter in her chest.

  But then Hugh said, “We had a deal.” And putting an arm around her, he steered her to the car door. “It’s time for you to go.”

  “Oh come on,” she said, wiggling out of his grasp. “I think that deal is null and void now. You owe me.”

  He opened her door and nudged her toward the driver’s seat before relaxing his arm over the window. “What do you want?”

  Tess shrugged and tried to ignore their close proximity. “Just thought I’d throw out an arrangement that I think will benefit both of us.” She looked over his shoulder to Dane. “I’d like it to be private, though,” she whispered, hoping Dane wasn’t using his keen sense of hearing.

  Hugh’s eyes once again moved over her body in a far too possessive way before settling on her face. “Are you propositioning me?”

  “What? No! Well, not the way you’re thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t. But what I’m requesting is strictly professional, so quit thinking you’re something special, Hugh Langston.”

  A warm Santa Ana wind blew by them, carrying
the scent of steak and fries from the bar. Her stomach growled.

  Hugh clutched his chest. “You wound me.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. So can we talk?”

  “Hugh, I really—”

  “Give me a minute, Dane.”

  “I don’t want him listening,” she said in a low voice.

  Hugh gave her a wink before turning his head. “Wait for me by my bike,” he said to Dane, nodding toward a couple of motorcycles parked across the street. “And don’t listen.”

  Dane spun around and stomped across the street. He paced back and forth with his hands fisted at his sides.

  Tess still spoke in a hushed tone. “I’d like your help with something, and in exchange I thought I’d help you find Trey.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Oh really?” she raised her eyebrows to go along with her words. “You needed my help five minutes ago. And now that I think about it, back at the warehouse too.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “I don’t want yours either. But sometimes it makes sense whether we like it or not. If you want, I won’t call it help.”

  His forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a game, Tess. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting into.” He paused a moment and bore his eyes into hers. “I take that back. You’ve got some idea. But after what happened tonight, I’m not about to risk your life to help me find Trey. Your day job doesn’t qualify you as a sidekick, as you put it. So get in your car and go home.”

  Tess realized she’d approached this all wrong. She needed to make it seem like she needed him more than he needed her. She’d been searching for Jason’s killer for five years on her own. Not even Kensie or Francesca knew what she’d been up to. The idea of having someone like Hugh in on her secret mission seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.

  “I can’t. The truth is I need your help, Hugh. I’m trying to find someone too, and I believe you’re just the man to help me.”

  “Is this a job you’re working on?” He moved from behind the car door to lean his hip against the inside panel, placing him inside her personal space.