Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (15 page)

With super speed, she searched the drawers of the hutch in the dining room, the cupboards in the kitchen, rifled through the stack of
Sports Illustrated
magazines. She searched the closet by the front door, eyed the hardwood floor for loose floorboards.

All of it though, she did half-ass, since she couldn’t stop thinking about Hugh and how very human he seemed. How connected. To his brother, even though he was gone.

Where’s the damn incriminating evidence?
“Not here
,
” she whispered and padded in her bare feet to the front door. The second she stood outside, she inhaled sharply, the fresh air filling her lungs, loosening the tightness in her chest.

Without thinking, she wandered down the driveway, away from the house, away from Hugh. Chewing her bottom lip, she wrapped her arms around herself. A cool breeze carried the smell of pine trees to her nose. Her footsteps faltered and she stopped. Looked over her shoulder. So many emotions she didn’t know how to process swirled inside her. Was the right thing to do leave? Or stay? She turned her head back around and looked at the empty road in front of her.

Go.
She’d walked maybe another hundred feet, though, when something weird circulated in the muscles of her legs—resistance. She stopped again and looked up. Stars dotted the black sky. Jagged branches from gigantic trees slashed through the airspace like claws about to swoop down and pick her up. A chill raced down her spine.

“You really shouldn’t walk at night without shoes on.”

Tess jumped at the woman’s voice, both feet literally coming off the ground. People didn’t sneak up on her. How the hell had this woman snuck up on her? She
was
losing her skills. A harrowing thought flashed through her mind. Did that mean it was time to give up eliminating?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the woman said, as Tess turned to find an older lady wearing a plaid robe and yellow slippers.

“Blanche?” she asked, recognizing the woman’s voice and assuming no other seventy-something neighbor would be awake at this hour of night.

“In the flesh. You must be Tess. Nice to meet you in person.” She twisted and started toward a house barely visible through the trees in the distance. “Follow me,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” Tess asked, glancing at her feet before she scurried to catch up to Blanche.

“You can’t get far without shoes and it just so happens we’re the same size.” She picked up her pace, walking with the gait of a woman half her age.

Curiosity spurred Tess to keep up. “What makes you think I’m going somewhere? Maybe I just needed some fresh air? Ow!” she cried, something sharp digging into the flesh of her heel.

“At one in the morning when you should be fast asleep?”

Tess didn’t offer a reply.

They reached Blanche’s house, a cozy log cabin with a wraparound porch. Stairs led up to the glass front door, a motion detector lighting their way the moment they hit the first step. Large pots sat everywhere, overflowing with ivy and yellow daisies, and comfort filled Tess. But when she noticed the rocking chair sitting beside a large front window, she almost gasped. It looked exactly like the one her mother had rocked her in when she was a child. It was the only way she’d fall asleep.

“Your home is lovely,” she said, closing the front door behind her. Blanche had yet to stop her forward momentum.

“Thank you. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” She waved a hand in the air and disappeared around a corner.

Tess sat down on one of two sofas, the soft chenille fabric giving way to perfect coziness. She sank into the couch and put her feet up on the leather ottoman placed between the couches. Her eyes drifted shut, and for a few minutes she let her mind go blank. Worried she might actually fall asleep, she forced her lids open and took in the room.

A beautiful, but empty china cabinet sat off to the right. A bookcase, almost bare, decorated the left. One painting of snow-capped mountains hung on the wall. In the corner stood a small antique table with a vase of fresh flowers on top. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fresh flowers in her house.

Blanche entered the room carrying a pair of mugs.
Not
shoes. “I thought you might be thirsty,” she said, handing one of the steaming cups to Tess.

She sat up and accepted the drink. Then groaned with pleasure when she took a whiff. “Is this Irish coffee?”

Blanche took a seat across from her, a mischievous smile tugging at her wrinkled lips. “After midnight, it’s all I serve.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Tess inhaled deeply before taking a sip.

“I’ll keep you to that.” Blanche took her own sip before getting comfortable and tilting her head. “He’s a good man, you know. Sometimes he’s rough around the edges, but that’s only because he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

Tess shrugged. “Okay.”

“He do something to piss you off?” Blanche asked candidly.

“You could say that,” Tess answered. “He’s definitely not one for negotiation, no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

“You try asking him naked?”

Tess choked on her Irish coffee. “I beg your pardon?”

“Men can’t think straight when a woman’s naked. Something about their brain cells getting jumbled. And then their favorite word becomes ‘yes.’”

“I, uh…” Tess was at a complete loss for words. She looked into her mug, hoping the blush she felt wasn’t obvious on her face.

“You know how to play backgammon?” Blanche stood and reached for a small leather case on the bookshelf. She had it opened on the ottoman and pieces set up before Tess could answer.

“It’s been a while, but yeah.” Tess didn’t know what to make of Blanche. Or herself. She was happy with the subject change, but even if Blanche had continued to talk about Hugh, she didn’t feel any urge to leave. The older woman gave off a wonderful air of familiarity and warmth and Tess wanted to hang around her.

Blanche drank her Irish coffee while she set up the rest of the game pieces. Tess did the same, the easy rhythm they fell into one she rarely experienced.

Hugh. I fell into an easy rhythm with him.

“You got something on your mind, you should just spit it out,” Blanche said, putting her mug down on the ottoman.

Tess looked at her. Really looked at her. The idea that Blanche might be a Veiler popped into her mind. And with it her defenses went back up. “Right back atcha. I’m not really sure why you invited me here.”

“Make a guess,” Blanche said lightly. She leaned back, ran her hands down her thighs like there might be lint on her robe.

“Okay. I think you like knowing Hugh’s business because you love him like he’s your own son, and you’re trying to figure out what my motives are. You’re disheartened because I’ve apparently tried to sneak away and you wanted to meet me before you decided what to do about that. But it’s not my best interest you’re after—it’s Hugh’s. So I really think you should spit it out, not me.”

Blanche nodded. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She looked at Tess with genuine interest—and compassion—in her eyes, before gesturing around the room with her hand. Emotion Tess couldn’t put a finger on passed over the older woman’s features as she blinked several times. “He built this house for me. The old one burned to the ground last year. I thought I’d have to go to a senior shithouse, but Hugh wouldn’t hear of it. He took care of the insurance and got his friends to help out. Built this place in less than six months. And never asked me for a penny.”

Tess gulped. Her heart squeezed. “Wow.”

“He’s a private SOB, but if anyone he cares about gets into trouble, he’s first in line to help them out. He’s had more lost souls up to that house than I can count.”

For a brief moment, Tess forgot to breathe. “You think I’m a lost soul?” She shifted on the couch, uncomfortable with that assessment. Was she?

“No.” Blanche shook her head. “I think Hugh’s in over his head and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He smitten with you, that’s for sure. I’ve known that boy a long time, and I’ve never seen him so discombobulated over a woman.”

Something inside her softened, weakened. Awakened. She sighed. And she couldn’t meet Blanche’s eyes, instead picking a spot on the dark wood floor.

“So we’ve established you’re smitten too,” Blanche said, relief in her voice.

Tess lifted her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s been my experience that confronting it head on is always the best plan.”

“Oh, believe me, we’ve confronted it.” Tess looked down at the game board they’d yet to touch. “And unfortunately, whatever is going on between us is only short term. Sorry, Blanche.”

Blanche chuckled. “That’s what I thought when I met Artie.”

“Artie?”

“My husband and the love of my life. He passed away a few years ago. Told me on the day we met it would never last because he’d surely screw it up. We were married for fifty-three years and the only thing he screwed was me.” She crossed an arm over her chest so that her palm rested over her heart.

She and Blanche eyed each other for a moment and then both burst out laughing. Tess couldn’t remember ever laughing like this. It felt good. Felt nice to have a grandmother figure share something so unexpected and intimate.

Tess rose from the couch and stretched. “I should probably head back.”

“He’s worth sticking around for,” Blanche said, standing and slowly making her way toward the front door.

“I’m not sure I’m—”

A heavy knock on the door silenced Tess. Only one person would pay a visit to Blanche at this hour.

“Hugh,” Blanche scolded as she opened the door wide enough for Tess to be seen. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

He practically filled the doorway with his broad shoulders and height. “Just thought I should escort this lovely lady back home. You two have a nice chat?”

Clearly, he wanted to know what they discussed, but Tess had no intention of telling him. And the way he spoke made it sound like he’d known all along where she was.

She huffed and darted around him. “Thanks, Blanche, for the drink and the good company,” she called over her shoulder, realizing the older woman probably never intended to loan her a pair of shoes.

“Anytime!” Blanche called out.

A moment later, Hugh was by her side, too close and too far away for her to think straight. She stumbled, not because of his proximity, but because a twig lodged itself between her toes. She swallowed a hiss.

Hugh scooped her up and held her against his chest.

Her entire body went rigid before relaxing. She thought about demanding he put her down. She thought about yelling at him to keep his hands to himself. But the truth was nothing inside her protested. And his quiet action spoke volumes she didn’t want to address.

She put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

Chapter Eleven

The setting sun cast the most breathtaking orange streaks across the sky. Tess loved looking up into the blue yonder, through the gaps in the trees, to watch the daylight disappear. She sat on the porch where the only noise came from chirping crickets and the occasional squirrel or other small creature. The peacefulness soothed her mind, relaxed her shoulders. She was content.

Confused.

For the past three nights, she’d sat out here, contemplating her job and her life. Continuing to work side-by-side with Hugh had shed little light on their mission. They weren’t any closer to finding Trey or Dobson, despite their research. She also wasn’t any closer to finding a reason to eliminate him.

Things didn’t add up, and her stomach turned sour every time she thought about the task at hand. Who the hell wanted Hugh eliminated? Never before had it mattered to her who ordered the hit, but this time she had a gut feeling it was important.

Worse, her body continued to betray her by perking up every time he was near. She had to work damn hard to keep her heart rate in check so he wouldn’t know the power he had over her. She couldn’t blame it all on hormones either. Her thoughts, her dreams, all centered around him and what it would be like if the situation were different and he wasn’t her mark.

Which scared the bejeesus out of her.

Because she couldn’t fall for him. Could. Not. He was her mark and she had a job to do.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” His voice broke her train of thought.

“Not at all. Have a seat.” She found it endearing that he asked if he could join her every night, rather than assumed.

The swing swayed as he sat, and she was acutely aware of his closer than normal proximity this evening. Their shoulders touched, his masculine scent made her bare toes curl. She wanted to lean into him, lose herself in his arms.

Usually they talked about Trey and Dobson, motorcycles or the extreme sports she enjoyed. Hugh was no slouch in his adventures either, and had mentioned in passing he could teach her how to fly. She’d shrugged it off, knowing it was a slip of the tongue and nothing else. They wouldn’t be seeing each other for much longer.

“How long have you worked for P.I.E.?” he asked, surprising her with his choice of topic.

He’d been nothing but honest with her so far, so she figured he deserved the same in return. He’d even stopped locking her in her room at night. “Since I was sixteen.”

“Really? That young? What about your family?”

“I didn’t have one.” A vague picture of her parents remained in her mind, but if she really wanted to see them, she needed to look at the few pictures she had. “I bounced around foster care.”

She went on to answer his questions, trying not to let too much emotion seep into her voice. It had been ages since she’d dug as deep as he was asking her to go, especially with regards to her parents. Not even Jason had coaxed this much out of her. The truth was, talking about it with Hugh was cathartic. Finally getting so many turbulent feelings off her chest felt good.

He felt good.

His hand wrapped around hers at the first mention of her parents’ death. With their fingers intertwined, she shared what she remembered about their accident, and how she hadn’t understood the permanence associated with losing them because she was so young. Gradually, she’d accepted it, but when she did, hate and despair had consumed her. She grew indifferent, apathetic. Nothing had held any meaning for her.

A dull ache filled her heart as she shared what she could with Hugh. He barely moved a muscle while she relayed her story.

Even mentioning how P.I.E. had saved her and made her what she was today didn’t get a reaction from him. His grip on her hand simply tightened.

“So there’s my life story in a nutshell.” She kicked her legs out and back until the swing swayed in a steady rhythm. “How do you feel about me now?”

His thumb rubbed over hers in a slow, methodical manner, and hot waves of pleasure tightened her stomach muscles, made her breasts tingle and aroused the juncture between her thighs.

He needs to stop. Stop right this minute. But I don’t want him to stop. I want him to touch—

“I think I want to—”

“Stop! Stop right there. Don’t say it.” She jumped to her feet. “We can’t talk nice to each other anymore. We can’t tell each other what we want to do. We can’t—”

He stood, pulled her into his arms and let his actions speak louder than words. His lips crushed hers. He kissed her with passion. With feverish intensity that sent more jolts of pleasure spiraling through her. And she melted into him. Threw her arms around his neck and sank deeper into the kiss.

Their mouths took to each other fast and furiously, and Tess couldn’t think straight. She’d been aching for this since their first kiss. Falling asleep at night wet between her legs in anticipation of kissing him when he wasn’t fighting for his life.

All the times they’d sat a little too close, or accidentally touched, or caught each other staring, had led to this moment. This seamless joining of their mouths.

His hands roamed her back, her sides, brushed the swells of her breasts and settled on her ass. More pleasure rumbled through her.

And then…then his tongue slipped between her lips and she felt the kiss
everywhere.
He kissed her more thoroughly, more deeply, more deliciously than she’d thought possible.

Everything vanished for her. Nothing existed anywhere else. It was only the two of them. Lost in a time and place where no one could see them or touch them or harm them. The world as she knew it didn’t matter. Nothing was as real as the two of them in each other’s arms, Hugh kissing her like he might die without her.

And that was when he pulled back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Yes, you should have,” she interrupted, the taste of him on her lips. She wanted more. So much more. How dare he stop?

He stepped back. “I needed to kiss you,” he said, his breath ragged. “But the rest is up to you.” His eyes flamed with want before he moved around her and headed back into the house.

What
? He was walking away from her? Happy to leave her in charge
now
?

Didn’t he realize she had no idea what to do?

She stayed glued to her spot. Tried to get her breathing under control. A need stronger than any she’d encountered before filled her, but she had to remember there was an ocean between them, even though it seemed like a puddle the more time they spent together.

While the thought was unbearable, the best thing for her to do was let him go. Forget that she felt him all around her, yet his physical absence swamped her with loneliness and twisted her insides. Forget that he made her wish for things to be different.

Never before had she wanted anything—or anyone—so badly.

Could she take what she wanted and move forward? Could she make love to him and follow through with her assignment? Did she want any more assignments? Her recent failures told her no. Her heart and head told her no.

Sometime during the past week, doubts about her job and obligation to P.I.E. had escalated. Working with Hugh on something that seemed more legitimate in both its mission and cause had made her think. Not all Veilers were the monsters they were painted to be. Hugh had explained the growing tension between Wolf Seekers and the Night Runners. He’d shared the wrongdoings on both sides, and it reminded her that human history was rich with atrocity. Most Veilers lived in the human world without incident. They blended in and contributed to society. Criminals came in all forms, human and Veiler. Innocence couldn’t be measured by one’s heritage. And nothing was black and white. Yet prejudice played a huge part in culpability.

Was she prejudiced? She’d accepted the teachings of P.I.E. Followed through on assignments without serious question.

Until now.

A noise in the distance grabbed her attention and she looked toward the mountainside. A rabbit hopped out of the bush, its nose twitching. It was white and fluffy and Tess found herself wishing she had a carrot to dangle in front of it.

A carrot. To dangle. Hugh had just dangled one in front of her, hadn’t he? She’d be an idiot not to grab it.

She ran into the house and found the door at the end of the hall open. An invitation if she wanted it. She slowed her steps so she could take some deep breaths and quiet the rapid beat of her heart.

The idea of being intimate with him filled her with happiness. The kind of happy she thought she’d never feel again. The kind of joy that if she were honest, she hadn’t felt since her parents were alive. Unfair she knew, to compare Hugh and Jason, but with only one lover in her past, it was inevitable. The time spent with Hugh had made her realize what she had with Jason didn’t go nearly as deep as she’d once thought.

A couple of feet from his bedroom, she stopped and put a hand on the wall to steady herself. The musings over her past as she was about to embark on something new, something that would take away from those memories, gave her second thought.

She’d never reflected so much about anything.
Follow your instincts, Tess.

Follow your heart.

She’d never been given that opportunity before.

Her mind had always ruled her actions, not her emotions. Now she felt so mixed-up that making any coherent decision seemed futile.

Time to go with her heart
,
she reasoned. See where it led her. What did she have to lose?

Everything
.

When had that ever stopped her?

She moved to Hugh’s doorway and peered inside his room. He’d just stepped out of the bathroom and was pulling his shirt over his head. Tess stood mesmerized by the well-defined planes of his torso.

He was surprisingly void of hair, given his half-shifter birth. In her dreams, he’d looked just like this, but she’d thought the reality might be different. His chest muscles were definitely larger than her palms, and she wanted to splay her fingers across his skin for confirmation. Sliding her gaze to his rock solid abs—the sort with ridges she’d only seen on male models in magazines—she found she
really
wanted to touch.

His biceps muscles were exceptional too. Defined like a heavy lifter’s, and she was struck with the notion that he’d let her win their arm-wrestling match. But the sexiest thing about his bareness, aside from the way his jeans hung low on his hips to reveal a sprinkling of hair leading down past his button, was the tattoo.

On the smooth skin over his heart was a tattoo—a symbol with thick, beautiful black strokes like two waves curling around each other. It was about the size of her fist, and she found it more appealing than any artwork she’d ever seen before.

Her breath hitched, and if he hadn’t known she was there, he did now. He threw his shirt to the side and his eyes met hers. He looked at her with so much hunger that she wobbled, catching herself on the edge of the door. With just a look he had her panting, her nipples hardening, and the spot between her legs throbbing.

Seconds passed without a move by either of them, all the while their eyes were fixed on one another. Tess gulped. His gaze was a warm caress she didn’t want to end.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, breaking the silence.

She wanted everything, but couldn’t find the words.

“Tell me what you want,” he repeated, “and I’ll give it to you.”

Pudding, her legs felt like pudding. “I want…”

He inched closer, and the throbbing, the hardening of her nipples, the loss of oxygen, amplified. When he stood within reach, she touched the tattoo, the sculpted muscle. His skin sizzled. Heat, strength, animal magnetism poured off him.

“Tell me, Tess.” His voice, husky and thick with desire, made her heart pound.

His hands remained by his sides. Waiting for her cue. Her permission. Admission. If he didn’t touch her in the next five seconds she’d explode, or implode. Or something like that. Her brain was a little fuzzy.

“I want you to touch me,” she managed to get out with a breathless sound.

“And?” Deep, dark, commanding now.

“And kiss me.” She remembered the taste of him and wanted more. So much more.

“And?”

To hell with all his
ands
. “I want you to fuck me, devour me, ravage me. And then I want you to do it all again.”

He traced his finger along the base of her neck and slid it down, feather-light, until it reached the top of the scooped neck of her shirt, the top of her cleavage.

“The way I feel, that could take all night.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His eyes dipped to her breasts. She took a deep breath, positive her nipples poked through the thin cotton of her shirt. Then he looked up, and she stared into blue depths that had captured a piece of her from the very start. Right now she swore she saw a flame flicker in their azure color.

A second later he captured her mouth with his and pressed her hard against the bedroom door, sealing it shut. He wasn’t the tiniest bit gentle, his chest crushing hers, his stance capturing her center between his legs. Energy radiated off him, sending powerful shivers of need through her. With his palms flattened on either side of her head, he kissed her with purpose, his lips spreading hers so he could sweep his tongue inside. She kissed him back with equal vigor, like her next breath could only come from him.

She kept her hands at her sides, flat against the door, enjoying the fierceness of the kiss too much to distract herself with feeling him anywhere else at the moment. He moved his hips an inch to the side and, oh God. His erection hit her just right. The sensation had her so turned on, she needed to get rid of the clothing between them before she came just like this.

Warmth spread from the center of her chest, coils of pleasure pulsed deep in her belly. Hugh knew exactly where to slip his tongue, where to press his lips, how much give and take to allow. When he pulled back to nibble on her bottom lip, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her.

Two could play this game, so she nibbled back. Creases on the sides of his face told her he enjoyed it. She wanted sex to be playful and fun, and Hugh seemed to agree.