Veiled (6 page)

“Good,” he responded.

Brilliant of him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep a lid on how much he craved her right now.

He recalled how she’d been lusting after the other men and his
breh-hedden
reflexes suddenly vaulted into another searing overdrive. He took several deep breaths, struggling to get calm. He even growled and his fangs made an appearance. Still, he remained where he was and put his weights in motion again.

How could he explain to Rachel what his life was like, what it had always been? A viper lived inside him and had from the time he could remember, a serpent moving through thick waters, writhing and biting when he got too close to anyone. He’d promised himself long ago to keep his distance from any serious relationship.

He’d made an exception with Rachel repeatedly over the decades, but he’d always found a way to end things, usually forcing her to break up with him.

He had nothing to give, not a damn thing.

Now that she was home, her scent, like earth and flowers, the smell of grass in springtime, of life and growing things, wafted into his workout room. He wanted her so bad he ached for her, ached to have his cock buried deep between her legs, his body moving over hers, his arms surrounding her, his fangs in her neck, her earthy blood flowing down his throat. And he wanted her tasting him, feeding from him, taking him inside her body, her mouth, her well.

Rachel. How he loved her.

The snake swirled faster now, jaws unhinged, sharp fangs dripping with poison.

He left the weights and hopped onto the rowing machine. He set a heavy pace, one intended to squeeze every ounce of water from his body.

But the snake moved faster and he knew this would be a bad one.

The memory rose sharp and clear of his mother’s arms around him, her tears wet on his young six-year-old neck. “You’ll be safer without me here,” she had said. “You have to understand, Duncan. You’ll be safe, but only if I leave.”

The serpent’s fangs bit deep.

He stopped rowing and roared the pain of the bite, of watching his mother walk through the front door to never come back, of falling into his father’s rigid discipline as he stood in one place for hours, as his father hit him to make him stronger, cut him, whipped him.

He rolled off the machine and fell onto the floor, shaking. The poison was in his veins now and wouldn’t come out.

He had nothing to give Rachel.

Nothing.

~

Rachel sat up in bed. Duncan’s anguished shouts had awakened her, pounding against her chest and forcing tears to her eyes. He’d been doing this a lot lately, roaring when he spent a couple of hours in his gym. The sound of his suffering had helped her to understand the level of pain he was in.

She’d tried more than once to encourage him to tell her what was going on, but her presence only seemed to add to his suffering.

She rubbed her temples and prayed for wisdom, something beyond herself to help the man she loved.

After a moment, her spirit grew quiet and in its place was a small sense of peace and the soft words floating though her mind,
He’ll figure this out. You’ll see.

She lay back down in bed. Her nausea was better but her current man-hungry state wouldn’t let her fall back to sleep. Her craving for Duncan had returned, stronger than ever. She didn’t know what to do. She’d tried pleasuring herself, but for whatever reason, it didn’t help at all. Instead, her thoughts became fixed on the last time they’d made love in this bed, how Duncan had sucked on her wing-locks and made her come.

She groaned, put a pillow over her head, and screamed her frustration.

~

For the past two hours, Luken had watched Merl closely, waiting him out. The brother had smoked cig after cig and downed at least three martinis. He stared off into space, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. He’d been attached to Endelle for weeks, playing her court jester. But the moment the black ops team had come together, he’d abandoned the Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth.

Since then, however, Merl had turned into a morose, distant warrior, hostile at times. He even seemed despondent, though Luken wasn’t sure exactly why. Merl was supposed to bring the team up to Third Earth battle levels. But so far none of them could properly execute the drills, especially the retrieval of
grayle
power, a Third specialty.

Merl badgered the team constantly about how each one of them was holding back. But what about Merl? Though he outdistanced each of them in power, he was completely shut down.

Luken’s instincts told him he didn’t have a full picture yet of Merl, in particular, what was bugging the shit out of him. And tonight, Luken intended to get some answers. He wasn’t about to leave the Ops Cave until he’d had words with the Third ascender.

He sipped his fifth Scotch, enjoying the muscle-easing buzz while sitting in a leather chair near the door. He had his long, heavy legs balanced on a sturdy ottoman.

In terms of Second Earth, the team had taken huge strides. Each of the three Militia Warriors had made the leap to Warrior of the Blood. The average Militia Warrior had to work as part of a team of four in order to bring down a single Second Earth death vampire. A Warrior of the Blood, on the other hand, could destroy several at a time on his own.

Even Rachel now had What-Bee battle abilities. She’d been the biggest surprise of all. The woman who had proclaimed peace for decades, had finally accepted her fighting mantle. She had remarkable power levels and possessed a fighting spirit much like her brother, Gideon.

She didn’t use a sword, not possessing the physical strength to wield the heavy blades. But she’d rapidly perfected her dagger skills and had taken out her fair share of pretty-boys. One month in, she’d developed a tough warrior skin, seeing the enemy for the addicted monsters they’d become.

Luken had been worried sick about her at first and her initial reactions to the usual gore of battle had been completely predictable. She’d come through, however, with tremendous strength and a kind of centered poise not often seen in novice warriors. He was damn impressed with her.

Merl rose to his feet and finally met Luken’s gaze. “Thought you’d be tucked in bed by now.” The cigarette in his hand disappeared. Merl had a trick of folding them away as well as his martini glasses. Presumably his smoking and drinking detritus ended up back at his house.

Luken didn’t flinch. “I’ve been getting my kicks watching you pout instead.”

Merl scowled and each nostril flared. “And how did you like doing your fold tonight? Bet that felt like floating on clouds.”

Luken repressed a shudder; his mangled wings had hurt like a bitch. He stood up, offering a casual shrug. “Thought I had it. Guess I was wrong.”

“Guess you were.” Merl moved slowly, like a man used to meeting up with thugs in an alley. He was as muscled as Duncan and clearly put in long hours pumping iron like the rest of them, but he was always looking over his shoulder.

He was a handsome bastard, with light blue eyes and strong features made more pronounced by the way he combed his hair straight back. He refused to grow it out warrior long, the only member of the team who wasn’t following protocol. But then Merl had been exiled while serving as a What-Bee on Third. Maybe he’d gotten burned and no longer valued the traditions. The truth was, no one knew much about Merl; he wasn’t talking to any of them.

Luken tried a different tack. “I need you to tell me something.”

“Not gonna spill my guts.”

Luken took his measure. “Not asking you to. I just want a straight up answer to a single question. Can you give me that?”

“Ask me and we’ll see.”

The man was dug in.

“Why did you quit the palace? You and Endelle were like a matched pair of socks. Then suddenly you dumped her.”

For some reason, Merl didn’t seem bothered by the subject, which told Luken he’d missed what was really distressing Merl by about a mile.

He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I get Endelle and she gets me. She had no expectations and neither did I. I also hadn’t planned on being assigned to a black ops team, but I’m here now and I’m taking my job seriously. Call it pouting if you want, but your team isn’t anywhere near ready to battle Third Earth death vampires or even Militia Warriors in any dimension above Second. Yet I can sense we’ll be moving out soon, which basically is a death sentence. Is that enough of an answer?”

Luken could only frown in response.

Merl grimaced. “That’s what I thought.” He headed toward the door and Luken didn’t try to stop him.

Merl was a complicated man. The most Luken really knew was both sides of the conflict on Third had wanted Merl dead. He’d been exiled to Second Earth where he’d lived for fifty years.

What Luken really couldn’t figure out, however, was how to get the team up to a basic Third battling level. And like Merl, every instinct told Luken their time was almost up.

~

Duncan lay on the floor of his workout room, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. The memory of his mother leaving had come back like a train that jumped the rails and kept throwing cars off the tracks.

When he sat up, he rocked, trying to dispel the pain engulfing him.

His father, Carlyon, had never shown him photos of his mother so he’d never had any kind of image of her in his head. And even though he could recall her voice as she clung to him, and watch her back as she left, he still didn’t know what she looked like.

His father hadn’t helped, of course. Carlyon had expressed his hatred of her hundreds of times. He’d made it clear repeatedly that Duncan had been abandoned because his mother had never loved him, never wanted him.

But he wasn’t a child any longer as he considered the memory. He was a grown man, one who had come to despise Carlyon for the brute he was.

As he lay on the floor, he reviewed her words again:
You have to understand, Duncan. You’ll be safe, but only if I leave.

Was it possible she hadn’t wanted to leave? Until this moment, he’d never considered anything other than what Carlyon had told him.

He couldn’t pretend to understand what it was like for a woman who’d been abused and beaten by her husband, the man who’d sworn to love and protect her. But Rachel had shared many details about her experience as Grieg’s wife, and how abusive men often applied a process of terror and guilt, threatening not just the woman’s life but the lives of those she loved as well.

Carlyon wouldn’t have hesitated to use Duncan in his battle to control Duncan’s mother.

He finally rose to his feet, his mind caught in the past and focused on the night his mother had left him in the hands of a monster. Would Carlyon have killed them both if his mother had stayed?

He headed back to the shower, and once more let the heat of the water work some kind of ease into his body. Afterward, he donned pajama bottoms and sat outside on the back patio in the early morning light. Paradise Lake was beautiful with sunlight glittering on the water.

He drank a sports drink to replenish his fluids. He needed his bed, but he damn well knew sleep wouldn’t come, not this morning.

His thoughts slipped back to just before dawn when he’d caught Rachel lusting after her teammates. Her scent had reached him well down the hallway, when he’d finally decided to make an appearance at the Ops Cave. Her mating scent, thick with pheromones only he could perceive, had sent desire trailing down his abdomen into his groin.

He’d taken in the picture immediately. Rachel was staring at Owen’s flexed arm. The rest of the men, built like all hell, had no doubt worked for her like a club full of male strippers.

He knew women had needs and the
breh-hedden
had sent hers into overdrive, just like his. He’d reacted like a caveman, all but dragging her into the hall and calling her out because her garden scent had told its own tale. But what right did he have to condemn her when he refused to take care of her himself?

None.

Rachel.

Oh, God, Rachel.

He’d wanted her badly. She’d looked beautiful with her skin flushed and her blue eyes sparkling with need.

He was badly tempted to go to her now, but how could he without making some kind of commitment?

Even thinking about moving in her direction, caused the snake to hiss,
You’re not good enough, Duncan. You never will be. And she’ll leave you. Women always leave.

But even as the snake threatened to hurt him again, Rachel’s scent suddenly rolled from the open door of the great room onto the patio. He rose to his feet, turning to face the living area, all his senses coming alive. The
breh-hedden
was taking a toll on them both, but he could tell Rachel had reached a new level of suffering.

And he had to accept the reality if he didn’t take care of her, she’d find someone else who could.

Duncan.

Her voice was a pained whimper inside his head.

I’m here,
he sent.

I need you.
The desperate quality of her plea made up his mind.

He had to take care of his woman.

Though the snake kept hissing and his gut writhed, he lowered his chin and forced the sensations to subside. Rachel needed him and right now, nothing else mattered.

By the time he reached his master bedroom, Rachel’s rich mating scent, so full of life, struck him like a blow to his chest. If he hadn’t already made up his mind, he would have done so now.

She lay completely naked on the bed, face down, her hips grinding into the sheets, one hand extended between her legs and massaging. Her eyes were closed.

He crossed to her, losing his bottoms at the same time, his cock already firm.

“Rachel?”

She opened her eyes and gave a cry, turning onto her back and holding out her arms for him. She spread her legs and he saw how wet she was. “Duncan, thank God, I’m in agony. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He understood. “You’re a warrior now. It comes with the territory and the
breh-hedden
isn’t helping.”

She nodded with three jerks of her chin. “I’ve just never felt like this before.” Tears rolled from her eyes.