Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (8 page)

“What about Scary Hairball?” She kicked the Banoth in the side.

“I’ll send someone to clean up.”

“Cool.” Turning on her uneven heels, she headed for the exit.

Hugh tried to keep up, but wasn’t moving too swiftly. That last injection of Banoth poison circulated inside him. His head pounded, his body felt like someone had used a drill on each major organ and they were slowly draining of functioning cells.

She held the door open for him. The cool outside air wiped away the Banoth’s stench, and the only sound was the faint whisper of wind. The quiet helped clear his muddy brain. He took immediate stock of the alleyway, sniffed and knew the second Banoth had split.

“This way,” he commanded. “Back to the bar.” His tongue grew thick, his throat tight.

Tess turned, looking ready to argue, but quickly changed her mind. Her frown vanished and in its place bloomed kind, wide eyes with worry lines etched into her forehead. “Are you sure you’re going to make it to the bar?”

“No. Not really.”

Chapter Six

Tess couldn’t take her eyes off Hugh. She’d helped save his life, but the fact was, he’d saved hers first. Without hesitation and without a second thought. Now he looked like there wasn’t much life left in him. Her heart dipped below her lungs. She didn’t want him to die.

Not yet.

Not like this.

She had a job to do.

Just do it. Get it over with. So what that you didn’t do any investigating? This is your last chance, Tess. Your. Last. Chance.

“I’m going to kill Kensie and Francesca,” she muttered under her breath. Because really, it was their fault. If they hadn’t sent her on a blind date, none of this would have happened. She would have met Hugh on her terms, as her mark, and nothing else. Right?

They walked side-by-side, a strange feeling of giddiness and gratitude flooding her because he’d cared more about her safety than his own. She heard every breath he took, felt them too. She barely had a scratch on her body, but the front of his shirt was torn and blood trickled out. Slashes covered his leather jacket, a bruise colored his jaw.

Something heavy and tight and uninvited filled her chest.

“Why are you going to kill them?” he asked, putting one foot in front of the other with careful deliberation.

Tess couldn’t stand it. She fastened her arm under his and gently pulled so that he’d lean on her before she answered. “You heard that?” She’d barely whispered it. Granted, the sidewalk and street were deserted, but still.

He didn’t flinch at her touch, didn’t reject her help. His cooperation both frightened and thrilled her. Then he nodded and asked, “You okay?”

“Sure. Why?”
Criminy.
Asking why was like asking him what he thought about the two of them.

“Because your heart’s beating a little fast.” A coy smile spread across his very kissable lips.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “You cannot hear my—”

“Can.”

“Cannot.”

“I can also—”

“I don’t want to know,” she snapped, trying to keep any palpitations in check. “Let’s just get to my damn car.”

“Something we finally agree on.”

They turned a corner and the abandoned sidewalk gave way to life. A few parked cars lined the larger street. Farther down, a traffic signal blinked green. Best of all, the bar stood within view.

The safest thing for her to do at the moment was get away from him. She had to ignore the attraction that threatened to weaken her, forget about his concern, and pay complete attention to The Job.

When she was seven years old, her mom and dad had told her she was adopted as an infant, but she hadn’t cared. Her mother and father had shown her so much love she couldn’t imagine anyone else loving her more. They were the fearless threesome, every weekend going on exciting adventures. She learned how to snorkel, surf, rock climb, ski, snowboard, even hang-glide in tandem with her dad. Her parents instilled in her a no fear mentality. They laid the foundation for her desire to experience life to the fullest. A week after her eighth birthday, they died in a boating accident.

For the next six years, she bounced around foster homes, growing more and more disobedient and difficult with each family. Until she moved across the street from Jason. He’d been through the same difficulties and understood. For two years, they were inseparable, and once again she became a weekend warrior, doing all the things she loved to do as a child. When she was recruited by P.I.E. and told she had to give up contact with him, she was devastated. But slowly she realized she’d been given a second family.

Finding Jason on the beach a couple years later had been a dream come true. She’d never felt happier. And this time they fell madly in love. Then, just like her parents, he died and left her alone. If not for Kensie and Francesca, the pain and grief would have destroyed her. She rebuilt the wall around her heart and swore nothing would penetrate it again. Not to protect herself. To protect them.

Deep down, she was terrified if she ever loved someone like that again, they would die too.

“If I knew I only needed to agree with you to get you to be quiet for longer than a minute, I would have done so a lot sooner,” Hugh said, breaking the silence between them and pulling her from her thoughts.

Their pace, she noticed, had slowed considerably while they’d quietly walked, and when she refocused on him she almost gasped. His cheeks had lost all their color, and his posture had slackened considerably.

“You really don’t look that great. Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine. Just a little beat up.”

“I saw the Banoth put its fangs in you. A few times. That can’t be good.” God, she didn’t want to care. She didn’t want to feel her heart ache for him. Want for him. Beat and pound and flutter for him.

He leaned on her less. “I said I’m fine.”

“What about Dane? Maybe the other Banoth got to him. He didn’t have a kick-ass sidekick like you did.” She nudged him with her shoulder, hoping some playful banter might piss him off. Make him eager to argue. Surely he’d stay strong in order to put her in her place.

“He’ll show up.”

“How do you know? Maybe he walked into an ambush too. That was an ambush you know. The Banoth was waiting for you.”

“I agree.”

“You agree?” Tess wasn’t sure to what. And she really hated that he didn’t look at her when he spoke.

“Yeah, so will you shut up now?” He didn’t even give a slight peek in her direction to see her reaction.

“You’re not going to go back and look for Trey after you drop me off at my car, are you? Because I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She couldn’t begin to figure out all the emotions swirling inside her like a tornado. The way she was acting, the words she was saying, sounded so utterly unlike her she wondered if the Banoth had put some sort of hex on her when he’d stared so lovingly into her eyes.

Since when had she become a mother hen? Jesus. She needed to say goodbye to Hugh and fast, before she did something stupid. Offering to take him to the hospital was bad enough. What was she going to suggest next? Personal nurse? Because really, her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own at the moment.

“I don’t think so either,” he muttered, growing heavier on her arm again.

“In your weakened state, you really should just drive home and get into bed.”

“That an offer?” Finally he gave a feeble glance in her direction.

Even if it were, she’d never admit it. “You wish, big guy. Now which one’s your car?” They’d reached the corner across from the bar. Both the parking lot and street were full of parked cars and she breathed a sigh of relief. As happy as she’d been to avoid the bar scene the past five years, she was glad for the comfort it brought now.

Hugh snickered disapprovingly. “I’m walking you to your car.”

“That didn’t work so well last time.” She shifted her weight to accommodate his lethargy and let him know she planned to take him to his car. Not the other way around.

He pulled back. “This time I’m watching you drive away.”

She didn’t argue. The man was in a lot of pain, yet still thinking of her first. The least she could do was let him win on the terms of her departure. Because she was leaving. Was going to walk away from him. At least for tonight.

As they crossed the street, Tess felt him perk up before he fully withdrew his body from hers. “Something wrong?” she asked, noting he’d risen to his full stature, but his lips were set in a firm line. She’d wager it took everything he had to stand up straight.

“Dane’s nearby.” He picked up the pace for the first time since leaving the warehouse, ushering her more quickly to the parking lot.

“Where?” She looked around, but only saw a few people ambling out of the restaurant, their voices loud enough for her to catch several four-letter words. She recognized one of them—the guy who’d so eloquently tried to buy her a drink. She steered Hugh away from confrontation.

They crossed the parking lot and small side street, and reached her car without incident. She punched in the code on the driver’s door keypad and the car unlocked. Decisions—stay, go, help, don’t help—bounced around her head as she contemplated her next move.

“I think I should wait with you until Dane shows up,” she said.

Hugh slouched against the car, his chin practically in his neck. To passersby, he’d look like he’d had one too many drinks. She wished that were the case.
That
he’d recover from.

“Not necessary.” He pushed off from the car, but immediately fell back.

“Tough shit. I’m staying.” She leaned against the car door. “Can’t you like howl to him or something?”

“Not necessary,” he repeated.

They stood in silence for one minute. Then two.

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’s roofline. 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.