Talent to Burn (Hidden Talent #1) (37 page)

Hell. He’d never been good at the touchy-feely aspects of training, but when he’d reported the neonati last night—after he’d geotracked her odd composite signature in the dreamsphere—HQ had reiterated that his administrative leave from mentoring was over. They wanted him to take this one and his whole team knew it.

As he watched the woman assess him and, from her expression, find him wanting, inspiration struck him like an invisible wraith. If he could make her hate him so much she refused to associate with him, it would force someone else to step in.

Not a bad plan.

Never take Fate along on a date. The kiss goodnight could be deadly.

Veiled Target

© 2014 Robin Bielman

A Veilers Novel, Book 1

Tracking down Veilers—non humans—is only a sideline for Tess Damon. Vengeance for her fiancé’s murder is her reason for living. But with two botched jobs on her record, if she fails to eliminate her next mark, she’s dead.

She’s not afraid to die, but not before she gets even. Too bad fate has a really bad sense of humor.

Hugh Langston, a wolfen half shifter, lives to keep both humans and his pack safe. But when rogue humans kidnap his apprentice, his rescue mission is compromised by a hot-as-hell, kick-ass woman who makes him think only one thing:
mine
.

Tess tries to ignore her feelings, but temptation trips her up. Especially when Hugh figures out he’s her next target and forces her into an inconvenient alliance that tests all the laws
against
their attraction.

Now, with the line between good and evil getting blurrier by the minute, it becomes clear Tess’s only hope of living to see another day—and finding a murderer—lies with the one man she’s supposed to kill.

Warning:
Contains one obscenely hot alpha and the woman who wants to love him before she kills him. Look out for a blind date, scorching sex, humor, lies, and untamable attraction.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Veiled Target:

Tess hated feeling helpless. She hated not knowing what to do. Her insides churned, making her stomach clench. A sharp pain on the right side of her head came and went like clockwork every thirty seconds. Perspiration trickled down her sides. The last time she’d felt this anxious was when Jason lay in her arms. Dying. There’d been nothing she could do about it. She’d gotten to him too late.

As much as Hugh dropping dead beside her would solve her business responsibilities, she didn’t want him dying like this. Or maybe she did. No. No, she didn’t. But it was for reasons completely inappropriate, completely unsettling.

Her thoughts of Jason, and comparing the situations threw her for a loop. Yes, she had some sort of connection with Hugh, but death was part of her job, so why did it bother her so much this time? She needed to remember he was her assignment and nothing more.

Get in the car, Tess. Drive away and don’t look back.

Or stay in the agonizing quiet. She always got uncomfortable hanging out with someone in silence, but hell if she knew the right thing to say. She should start her investigation of him this instant with questions about his job, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He looked too vulnerable.

Too human.

Diverting her attention to a spot of oil on the street seemed like her best bet at the moment. She stared without blinking until her eyes protested. Then she looked across the street to find Dane heading toward them.
 

“Hey,” Dane called, crossing with long strides and looking like he’d been in the bar all night, not out prowling the streets in search of a friend.

Hugh lifted his head and stood taller. Maybe he’d just needed a few minutes to rest. He looked glad to see Dane, but Tess could swear she saw a hint of anger there too.

“Dane.”

The one word acknowledgement spoke volumes. Hugh didn’t ask how he was, he didn’t ask about Trey. Instead he waited for Dane to fill him in without prodding.
“Dane”
had been a command, not a greeting.

“What the hell happened?” Dane asked, looking Hugh up and down before turning an eye on her.

She glared at him, more for Hugh’s sake than her own. Was he allowed to talk to Hugh that way? “We were attacked by a Banoth,” she said. She wanted to add “you jackass,” but held her tongue.

“A Banoth? Jesus.” Dane’s chest deflated some, his shoulders rounded. “Did it get its fangs in you?” he asked Hugh, concern in his voice.

“Yeah.”

“Are you carrying?”

Carrying? What was he talking about?

“No. So talk.” Hugh pushed himself up so his shoulders rose above the car roof. His face was hard to read under the dim streetlight, but beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Tess swept a gaze over him from top to bottom and noticed a dark bloodstain on the leg of his jeans.
 

Dane nodded in her direction. “Right now?”

“She’s clued in,” Hugh said, “and I trust her.”

Why the hell did he have to go and say that? She was not to be trusted. Not to be included in their pack activities. Not to know what he wasn’t carrying, even though she was dying to get that bit of information. Then again, she couldn’t have asked for a better cover, an easier way into Hugh’s life. He knew she was a private investigator. She could use that to her advantage to help him find Trey. She’d pretend friendship to help him and get the information she needed to do her job. She’d just keep P.I.E. out of the picture.

Friendship.
Yeah, right.

She smiled at Dane. A great big smile to let him know she was sticking around, and he’d better get used to it. Something about Dane unsettled her. He didn’t like her involvement, she knew that from their confrontation in the alley, but there was more. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“The tip on Trey was bogus. I got to the location and he wasn’t there.”

“I’m not surprised,” Hugh said. “This whole thing was a setup to—”

“Get Hugh,” Tess finished. “And probably you too, Dane. Did you meet with any trouble? See anything that might give you some clue as to who or what planned this little attack?”

Dane looked like he was about to fall over. Maybe he’d never heard someone finish Hugh’s sentence before and then go on to ask the questions. A happy buzz wove through her body that she couldn’t blame on the beers from two hours ago. She’d come to the rescue of the lone wolfen and the idea that possibly no other woman ever had gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

“You a cop?”

Her occupation no longer a secret, she answered, “Private investigator.”

He looked back to Hugh for confirmation.

Hugh nodded. “I don’t like what’s going on. And I don’t understand why things have escalated so”—he coughed, a retching noise that sounded painful—“quickly.”

Dane took a step toward him. “You need to sit down. You need—”

“I need you to talk. Now,” Hugh said in a huff. He pushed away from the car and paced back and forth, his posture still rounded but his feet moving swifter.

Tess gulped. She could tell his movement was forced. That it would cost him. But his pride was obviously worth more than his comfort. Panic wove through her and her heart raced with sickening speed. Was his ego more important than his life? Because he literally looked like death warmed over. He needed medical attention. He needed a hospital room with machines whirring and tubes pumping drugs into him.

“I came across a couple of Wolf Seekers not far from Trey’s supposed location. I messed them up a bit and got them to talk. They had some very interesting information.”

“And that was?”

“Wolf Seekers?” Tess questioned. How come she’d never heard of them either? “Who are they?”

Dane looked to Hugh before he answered. “They’re humans who want to rid Los Angeles of wolves. At the moment, they’ve set their sights on the Night Runners.”

“Who’s in charge of them?” She knew there were groups of humans who were aware of Veilers and wanted to erase them from society. Heck, she’d gotten assistance from a couple of them. But why didn’t P.I.E., the most elite organization for eliminating Veilers, know about this faction? It was P.I.E.’s business to know about competing groups.

“We don’t know,” Hugh replied, falling back against the car again. The bloodstains on his shirt and jeans had spread, hair matted to his forehead, the rise and fall of his chest was more pronounced.

Tess fought the urge to move closer and take his arm in hers for support. “I can find out for you.” This was her in. The way to keep tabs on Hugh and investigate him while also finding out more about the Wolf Seekers.

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.”