Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (7 page)

Someone had orchestrated this whole thing, Hugh was sure of it. And whoever that someone was went to a lot of trouble and expense. Sending a Banoth to take care of business meant the stakes were high, the job top priority.

Right now, his priority was Tess. He’d ditched her to shift so that he could better protect her. It killed him to think he’d gotten her into this mess. Sharp pains jabbed his stomach at the thought of harm coming to her. Anger bubbled up inside him. He’d rip out the Banoth’s throat if the creature got too close to her.

In a matter of hours, she’d gotten under his skin. He knew because hot vapors rushed through his body whenever they touched.

He’d traveled beside her just now, his shadow under her feet, without her knowledge so he could figure her out. Her tough and fearless personality wasn’t for show. Her smart mouth not all talk. He knew she’d deliver every bit as good as she got. Watching her speak to the Banoth had made him ridiculously hard. She turned him on with her unwavering confidence, despite their predicament.

Pots suddenly crashed to the floor, and he bit the side of his mouth. In his haste to follow Tess as she ran from the Banoth, he knocked over a stack of ceramics. She turned on her heels and landed a right hook to his jaw.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the painful spot. “What was that for?”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know what was behind me.” Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. “So I decided to act without thinking.”

“You do that a lot?”

“All the time.”

“Duck!” he yelled, dropping to his knees.

She obliged as another putrid smelling ball of slime sloshed past their heads. “Can’t you do something about this thing?”

“Come on.” He took off toward a stairway he’d caught sight of, and taking the steps two at a time, raced to the second floor with Tess right behind him. The stairwell was small and narrow, and the Banoth would have trouble getting through it. That might buy him the few minutes he needed to figure a way out of the building. They reached a small landing, then turned to run up a second flight.

No matter what she said, he was determined to get her the hell away from the beast. If it sank its fangs into her, she was dead.

“By the way,” she said as they raced up the stairs, “thanks for leaving me alone. Really. I appreciate it. It shows how much confidence you have in me.”

He wasn’t sure if she was serious or not, but he didn’t have time to decode female speech at the moment. They were about to collide with a metal door. Why the fuck was there a steel door at the top of the stairs?

Tess bumped into him. Her eyes must have been on the steps and not where she was going. He couldn’t blame her. He saw just fine in the darkened stairwell, but imagined she didn’t.

“A little warning next time,” she said.

“We’ve got a problem,” he answered, releasing the locked door handle.

“Yeah, I know. And he needs a haircut.”

“There’s a steel door here and it’s locked. We need to go back the way we came.” As he stepped next to her, he noticed her blink a few times to adjust her vision. Or maybe it was to adjust to the sight of him in his Night Runner form.

“Huh. Probably two different companies lease the building. You can’t break it down?”

“I’m strong, but not that strong. The good news is I don’t think the Banoth followed us this way.” He started down the stairs with tentative steps. “Stay behind me.”

She grabbed the back of his shirt like someone would if they were in a crowd and didn’t want to get separated. The gesture felt too comfortable, too meaningful. He gulped. Whether he cared to admit it or not, he wanted much more than to see her to safety.

“So about these fangs,” she whispered. “Are they like vampire teeth, or worse?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead trying to keep his mind focused on the task and not her warm breath making the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention again.

“Because the way I see it, with a mouth the size of my arm, I’d say worse. And where does all that stinky slime come from?”

Ignoring her questions, he turned the corner on the small landing. As he’d suspected—given the narrow passage—the flight of stairs was empty. That didn’t mean the Banoth wasn’t lurking nearby, but he’d take the opening.

“Also, you mentioned a friend. Do you think the second Banoth is about to show up? Because I’d really like to be prepared for that.”

The woman obviously talked when she was nervous. Or talked to hear herself. Either way, her voice made it difficult for him to concentrate. “Shh.” He took the last step to the warehouse floor. His ears perked up, his nostrils flared.

“Don’t shush me.”

“Okay, shut up.”

He visualized the building. Every inch of it, until he heard footsteps above his head and knew the Banoth was visiting the second floor. He had about thirty seconds to get Tess back to the door they’d entered through, and kick her ass out.

“Screw you.”

That warranted a glance over his shoulder. A few comebacks came to mind but he decided to smile instead. Let her stew in her own words. With a touch of pink in her cheeks to match a touch of want in her eyes, he didn’t need to say a thing. Really shouldn’t say a thing.

“Remember where the door is that we entered?” he asked, eager to get her to safety and out of his sight. If he had any hope of salvation, he needed to cut ties immediately.

“Of course I do.” She bumped his shoulder in a playful gesture that amazed him, given their situation.

“Good. We’re going to haul ass there. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” She nudged him to the side and took off. “First one there wins.”

Following her was no hardship. The dress wrapped around her body like cellophane and all he could see was every delicious curve. God, how he wanted to strip her. Lick her between the legs until she came on his tongue. Touch her until she came on his fingers. Move his cock inside her until she came screaming his name. His attention was so focused on the slope of her back and how much he wanted to enter her from behind that a moment later, he didn’t even see the terra cotta pot coming.

Pain blasted into the side of his head and he fell to the floor. Large, jagged pieces of brown clay surrounded him, one lodging into his palm as he cushioned his fall. He didn’t stay down longer than two seconds before jumping to his feet ready for battle, claws bared.

The Banoth had other ideas.

Tess’s scream hit him like daggers pelting his chest. Granted, the scream rang more ornery than frightened, which gave him some slight consolation, but not nearly enough to stop his heart from racing.

When he turned down the aisle where the shriek had sounded, he found her in the Banoth’s clutches. Her feet were dangling in the air while the beast held her by the shoulders, shaking her like a piggy bank. She swung her legs, trying to kick him, but the animal’s outstretched arms were too long.

“Put me down, you son of a bitch!”

As amusing as the picture was, Hugh knew the Banoth didn’t plan on playing for long. Chances were the creature had never handled a beautiful blonde in a blue dress before. Add in the wiggles she was doing to free herself, and no warm-blooded male of any species would refuse that show.

“Goddammit! If you don’t let go of me right now, I swear to God I’ll—”

“Put her down, Banoth. Your fight’s with me.” He strode into the animal’s line of vision, ready to do whatever it took to free Tess.

As the beast turned its oddly shaped head and melancholy face his way, Tess continued to squirm. The Banoth glanced from him back to her before it opened its mouth and launched a giant smelly spit wad at him. Damn, he hated those things. The only other time he’d had the pleasure of coming face to face with a Banoth was four years ago and the thick liquid had hit him in the back. It stung like hell.

Ducking out of the way, he lunged toward the beast.

The Banoth halted Hugh’s advance by decking him with a sideswipe from his horns. Hugh landed on his backside, and watched in horror as the Banoth quickly opened his mouth and revealed its fangs.

Tess screamed. No matter how hard she kicked and carried on, she was no match for the Banoth’s overwhelming strength. Hugh’s jaw tensed. He didn’t understand why the creature wanted her if he’d been sent after him, and the thought riled him into action.

Without consideration, he lunged for the Banoth’s legs and sank in his claws. A blood-curdling wail came from the animal’s open mouth and it dropped Tess. She back-peddled out of the Banoth’s reach until hitting the side of a shelf with her back.

“Get out of here!” he yelled.

“Not without you,” she hollered back.

Hugh let out a snarl. If she wouldn’t listen to him, he had no choice but to kill the Banoth. Or die trying.

With his claws digging in deeper, he flipped the Banoth onto its back. No easy task, and a move the animal didn’t care for. One abnormally long arm extended to grab Hugh by the nape of the neck. The beast pulled with enough force to lift him off the ground and rip his claws out of the animal’s legs. The Banoth rose, taking Hugh with him until it was his turn to dangle in the air. But he was taller than Tess, and swinging his legs vertical, he shoved the heels of his boots into the Banoth’s chest. The beast grunted and threw him across the room.

The Banoth followed up far too quickly for a creature its size, rushing at him before he had time to catch his breath. The beast sank a fang into his shoulder at the same time Hugh drove a claw into its torso.

The gouge was enough to get the Banoth to lift its fang, and the two of them rolled across the cold concrete floor, each grabbing for the other like professional wrestlers. They tumbled into a shelving unit, knocking down pots that crashed over their heads. The sickly scent of the Banoth—a combination of vomit and dirt—made Hugh’s nose itch. It tried to spit poison on him, but Hugh jerked out of the way. Only to roll over the slime a minute later. The sting didn’t stop him.

He clawed at the beast, taking out chunks of hair and flesh. The Banoth nicked him again with a fang, this time on the upper arm while Hugh pinned him down. When he flipped Hugh over, the creature went in for the kill, two fangs landing in the center of his chest.

It didn’t matter that he was a half shifter—any significant amount of poison would have dire effects. Mercury tipped bullets or darts would get the job done quicker, but good old-fashioned venom, if left to circulate in his blood stream long enough, would also be deadly.

Hugh lifted his arms and grabbed the Banoth by the horns, pulling as hard as he could. The beast didn’t budge. A bitter, metallic taste burned his throat as the beast’s fangs continued to puncture his skin. He needed to get the upper hand. Now.

With nowhere else to go, he dug his claws into the animal’s cheeks and drew the sharp tips down its elongated face. The Banoth withdrew its fangs and let out a cry. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the beast by the horns again, and flung the animal over his head and across the floor. The Banoth landed with a thud against a wall, bringing on a tremor the size of a small earthquake. It got up more slowly this time, looking a little dazed. He watched it amble toward him like a drunken idiot.

Hugh quickly scanned the area for Tess as he got to his feet. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He hoped like hell she’d come to her senses and left the building. Worrying about her took a toll. His mind wasn’t as sharp as it should be when she was around.

The Banoth continued its zigzag pattern toward him, so he stayed put.
Come on, fella. Come and get me.
Things looked to be moving in his favor when the animal wavered. Good thing too. He felt the Banoth’s poison circulating in his blood stream like a chill invading every pore. His heart thudded in his ears, his muscles twitched, his senses were off.

Not enough to miss the smell he picked up with a short ragged breath, though.
Tess
. She was still in the building. Still close by.
Dammit.

Pushing away thoughts of her, he zeroed in on the Banoth and took steps to meet the ugly bastard halfway. Like before, they grabbed at one another and pummeled each other with fists and kicks.

Hugh detected the Banoth tiring while his own body fought for freedom, fought to end the Banoth’s life before Tess did something foolish. If he could just get his claws into the beast’s jugular, he’d be victorious, whisk the girl to safety and figure out what to do next to find Trey.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of blue appeared. It distracted him enough to give the Banoth the upper hand. The beast slammed him to the floor and pinned him beneath its tree-stump legs. Not so stupid this time, the Banoth faced away from him, giving no more opportunity for facial clawing. Then it sank its fangs into his calf.

There wasn’t much more poisoning Hugh could take. He dug his claws into the Banoth’s back, but the creature barely flinched. He lifted his hips to try and jostle the Banoth. No luck. The goddamn animal could probably hang from a tree with its fangs latched onto a branch for hours. Nothing Hugh did made it budge.

Until a large, round blade—no, not blade…potting wheel?—hit the Banoth upside the head and sent him toppling over onto his side. Hugh got to his feet, rolled the stunned creature to its back, and went for the jugular.

A minute later, the Banoth stopped moving.

“I thought I told you to get out of here,” he said, panting as he cast a glance at the pair of long, lovely legs even with his line of vision. He kneeled over the Banoth, mustering up enough strength to stand and carry on without Tess noticing he felt like shit.

“You’re welcome, asshole.”

“I had it.”

“I could tell.” She bent to his level. “Need some help getting up?”

“No,” he growled.

While she turned her attention toward the Banoth, he shifted. It took a little extra effort, and when he was upright, his legs almost gave out from under him.

“You don’t look so hot,” she said, her arms crossed, her tone light, but laced with concern. For him.

He took in her appearance and felt a tiny bit of pain lift. She looked just as good as she had in the bar. None the worse for wear. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”