Through the Veil (19 page)

God wasn’t that cruel.

Almost there—he smelled blood. Lots of it. The acrid, bittersweet stink of demon blood. It was thick and heavy in the air, making it impossible to smell anything else. So much blood—

Far off in the distance, he heard the low, melodic chanting.

Of all the threats he could have to face, the Sirvani were probably the last ones he wanted to deal with right now. Raviners, Ikacado, even the wyrms could be deterred. Granted, the wyrms required plasma charges planted in the trails, but they could be turned back.

The Sirvani? No. They wouldn’t turn aside, especially not if they had caught scent of Lee. Young, beautiful and so full of a barely tapped power, she all but shined with it. They would turn back when they had Lee and not before. If they caught sight of her, death was the only thing that would stop them. Killing one Sirvani, or even a few, wasn’t the hard part, though.

Their sheer numbers were the problem. Kill one, ten would take his place. Where in the hell had they come from? The gate hadn’t been active long enough for the Sirvani to come through. They never traveled with any less than an army, and that took several hours to mobilize. Had they been waiting . . . ? Shit. Or trickling through in twos and threes—the odd flickers from the gate could have been the Sirvani. Coming through in small groups and lying in wait.

The fear was taking hold of his brain, but he battled it into submission. He had a job to do, and panicking wasn’t going to help Lee or Eira. Besides, this was Lee. Whether she remembered it or not, she had a gift for getting herself out of trouble. She could handle herself with the Ikacado. Kalen had to believe that.

All he had to do was get to her before the Sirvani did.

Get up.

The voice was back, drumming into her mind, nagging her, pushing her out of the warm cocoon of oblivion and back into the bright, blinding pain of consciousness.

She wanted to go back into the darkness, but that voice in her head wouldn’t let her. Finally, Lee opened her eyes, but she wished she hadn’t. She was covered with—stuff. Slimy thick goop and things she didn’t want to put a name to. She lay shaking on the ground, trembling, drenched, covered with—

Oh, shit. Bits and pieces of ice and other things clung to her hair. Frozen, disgusting little gobbets of flesh, tissue and . . . It hit her like a sledgehammer what she was covered with. Body parts. She was covered with body parts. And the demons . . .

No. No. No . . .
Lee huddled into a fetal position and closed her eyes, trying to block out what had just happened.

It hadn’t.

That’s all. None of that had happened. She hadn’t just killed seven . . . seven things in seconds. She was an artist, for crying out loud. An artist—not a warrior. But she was surrounded by bits and pieces of dead Ikacado demons. She was alive, and they were not. They had bodies that were living, breathing weapons. And Lee had just a soft, human body.

She was alive.

They weren’t. Son of a bitch, most of them weren’t even in one piece.

Slowly, she hoisted herself into a sitting position, shoving her wet hair back from her face and looking at the mess in front of her. Just to her left, she saw Eira’s still form. The old woman hadn’t moved.

Her eyes were still closed. Just barely, Lee thought she could make out the faint rise and fall of Eira’s chest. Breathing . . . thank God. If they’d killed her— A knot rose in her throat even considering it.

Resolutely, Lee insisted that the tears blurring her vision were because she’d hate to think she’d put her neck on the line all for nothing. But as she got onto wobbly legs and made her way over to the huddled form, she felt a wave of relief sweep through her that left her too weak to stand. Collapsing beside Eira, she wrapped herself around the old woman and muttered a quiet prayer. Without even realizing what she said, Lee murmured, “You’re safe now, corida.”

Corida—it meant “wise one,” and how Lee even knew the word, much less its meaning, she didn’t know. She swallowed the knot in her throat and tried to think. She had to get Eira away from here. But how . . . She brushed Eira’s wispy white hair back from her face, tapped the old woman’s cheek and hoped she’d wake. “Come on, old woman. Wake up and talk to me. Help me out. I just saved our asses, now it’s your turn. I’ll be awful pissed if I went through that and then we get wasted before we get to safety.”

“Lee.”

The sound of his voice was just about the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Lee rolled to her knees and looked at him. She went to stand and realized that things were dripping off her, like water rolling off a raincoat. Bits, bones and blood—vomit boiled its way up her throat and she was going to be sick. She knew it.

She lifted her hands and stared at them. She whimpered as something pulpy dripped off her hands. Hypnotized, Lee watched as it fell to the ground, landing with a wet plop. Hysteria rose inside her. She could feel it, a screaming, whimpering, pathetic sound echoing through her mind.

“Lee.”

She blinked and looked up at him. He crossed the clearing and knelt in front of her. He reached out to catch her hands, but Lee jerked away. “No. This—it’s all over me.”

Kalen didn’t even blink. “I’ve seen worse,” he said flatly. He pulled her up and stared down at her. “Hold it together, Lee, okay? Just for a few minutes.”

Lee shook her head. “This stuff—it’s all over me. It’s in my hair. It’s all over my hands . . .” Her voice rose, climbing higher and higher. Hysteria had her tight in its grip, and Lee didn’t think she could hold anything together, not for another second.

He shook her. Hard. Her hair flew into her eyes, his fingers digging hard into her flesh. “Look at me.” His voice was hard and angry, and she blinked in surprise. But she looked at him. His silver eyes had darkened to a thunderous gray, and anger etched lines into his face. But his hands gentled. He reached up, and Lee realized he had something in his hand. It felt soft against her skin as he wiped some of the blood from her face and hands. “You can hold it together, Lee.”

“Fuck me.” It was a low, amazed murmur, full of shock and maybe a little bit of pleasure. The new voice intruded and Lee flinched.

She followed Kalen’s gaze and saw a man enter the clearing. She jerked against Kalen’s gentle hold, ready to run and hide. She couldn’t handle any more right now. She knew it. Kalen didn’t let go though. “All is well, Lee. He’s with us.”

There was something alien about the new man. He was tall. Ridiculously so. His pale hair was so blond it was nearly white and his skin was pale, pale as snow. But his eyes were a deep, dark black. His gaze skimmed over the clearing, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he looked toward Lee. “Well done.”

A hysterical giggle slipped free but turned into a sob. She pressed a hand to her mouth and managed to stop the flood. Temporarily. She knew it was temporary. She was going to break down soon, but she couldn’t do it now. She didn’t want to do it here. She wanted to be someplace safe when she finally broke down.

Well done.

For some reason, that just amused the hell out of her.

Well done.

She had body fluids and body pieces all over her.

Well done.

She was bordering on hysteria.

“Shut up, Morne,” Kalen muttered.

The tall blond, Morne, Lee assumed, just shrugged. “Eira . . .”

Eira—the weird amusement died and Lee swore. She started toward the old woman, but Kalen’s hands wouldn’t let her go. She smacked at him and demanded, “Let me go. Damn it. She’s hurt.”

“Morne can take care of her.” Kalen caught her hands and forced her to look at him. “You’ve done enough, Lee. Let us handle it now.”

That sounded awfully good.
You’ve done enough
—hell, he could say that again. Those creatures were pulpy nasty things now, not much of a threat. “Yeah, enough,” Lee mumbled.

Kalen gave her an odd look but then looked back at the other man. Lee blinked. She felt kind of sleepy all of a sudden. Nothing felt real—it was like she was trapped in some hyperalert dream state. Man, another angel face—but he wasn’t a dark angel like Kalen. No, he was a fair one. There was nothing pure or innocent about him. He’d be fun in front of the camera— Kalen said something, and the sound of his voice distracted her from Angel Face, and she looked at him, squinting a little. Forget the angel boy. Lee wanted Kalen in front of the camera, with his hard face, quicksilver eyes and that black-as-sin hair. Naked. Oh, yeah. She’d take a dark angel over a fallen one any day.

Kalen glanced at her again and there was a weird look in his eyes. Like he was worried or something. Then he looked back toward Eira. He muttered something hard and unintelligible under his breath. “We don’t have time to do this here, Morne. The Sirvani—”

“I know.” Morne glanced toward Lee and asked, “Will she make it to camp?”

Lee scowled. Angel Face was talking about her. She didn’t like being talked about. She frowned at him and said, “I can speak for myself.” At least, that was what she planned to say. All she got out was . . . “I.” Then her teeth started chattering and she couldn’t focus her mind on anything. Not talking. Not walking. Nothing.

Dimly, she heard Kalen’s voice. Then she felt his arms come around her and her feet left the ground.

“. . . move. They’re close.”

“. . . daylight . . . . no sense . . .”

Their words were a blur, blending together and not making any sense at all.

Who were they? Lee didn’t know what they were talking about. She could hear the steady, rapid beat of his heart and feel the warmth of his chest against her cheek. Wind on her face. They were walking. Practically running.

And there was a noise—she could hear it. Almost like singing. Rhythmic. Almost tribal. Faint, but getting louder and louder . . .
What is that?
she tried to ask. But the words couldn’t get past her tight throat.

She didn’t have to ask, though. That voice was in her head again, whispering,
Sirvani.
The monotonous, tribal beat of drums. Voices that rose and fell with the beat of the drum. Getting closer.

Images flashed in her head. Men slipping through the dark, silent as death, pale ghosts, swooping down in the night like a hawk. They came and they went without making a sound. The only sign of their passing—homes empty of the families that once lived there. Sometimes the bodies of the missing were found. But only males. Beaten to bloody pulps.

One image after another danced before her eyes, and Lee whimpered, trying to pull back from all of it. She felt a mouth caress her temple. A soft, rough voice. “Shhhh . . . you’re safe now, Lee. I promise.”

Kalen—

She reached out and her hand touched his chest. She bunched her hand in the soft, stretchy fabric of his shirt, clutching it as though she could pull herself closer to him. Safe. She felt safe—Kalen made her feel safe. If she could stay just like this, wrapped in his arms, maybe this strange, scary world wouldn’t seem so damned strange and scary.

She dreamed of angels, demons and dark saviors.

Demons that screamed and tore at her flesh. Fire that ate her. Weird dark eyes so black against white flesh—his mouth parted, but when he spoke, the words didn’t seem to be any language she understood.

His hand on her face, forcing her mouth open. She gagged, choked and sputtered as he forced something thick and noxious down her throat. Kalen’s voice: “Calm down, Lee. Just drink it. It will help.” Then silence, sweet, blissful, black silence.

She floated in the darkness for a while and then it started all over again. The man with hair as pale as snow and eyes as black as midnight was back and he was trying to kill her. Had to be. Whatever he was forcing down her throat had to be poison. Nothing that tasted that toxic could be safe.

The third time he tried to get her to drink it, she spat it back out at him and punched in his direction. She caught him in the throat, and when he let go, she tried to jerk away from him. His hand came out, catching her upper arm. As it was, that hand on her arm was the only thing that kept her from hitting the floor.

He laughed and said something she didn’t understand. Lee jerked on her arm and demanded, “Let me go.”

Angel Boy cocked his head and studied her in a way that Lee decided she really, really didn’t like. Like she was some sort of smear on a slide and he was the scientist peering through the microscope, trying to figure her out. “What? You understand me?” she demanded when he still didn’t let go. Lee jerked on her arm again and very slowly said, “Let. Me. Go.”

“I understand you perfectly, Lelia.” He let go slowly and remained standing close enough that she could feel the warmth coming off his body.

Lee’s brows dropped down low over her eyes and she snapped, “My name is Lee. Just Lee.
Capisce?
”

Now he looked a little puzzled. “Your speech is so very strange. Lelia, Lee, I shall call you whatever you wish.”

What about a cab? Can you call me a cab that will take me home?
she thought longingly. She took a step away and he followed her. Another step—yep, still mirroring her movements. “Can you back off?”

“Indeed. When you return to bed. If you remain upright for much longer, you will end up collapsing and then Kalen will threaten to pull out my tongue and strangle me with it.” A faint smile curved his lips, and Lee got the feeling he wasn’t too concerned about that happening.

She sniffed and said, “Go on. I’m fine. And if Kalen did try to strangle you, I think you can handle yourself.”

A pale brow, so blond it was nearly white, lifted and he gave her a weird little smile. “Regardless, I would prefer that you return to bed. I have my hands full dealing with one patient. I would rather you not join her in the medicon.”

Lee wanted to tell him to take a hike. She felt fine. Really. Well, her head was hurting something awful. Throbbing, actually. And oddly enough now, her legs were feeling really weak. But she wasn’t going to let him see that. The dizzy spell had passed and that was all she cared about. Deliberately, she took a step to the side, away from the bed he was herding her toward. “I’m hungry.”