Robin Bielman: Veiled Target

“Can you ease up on the grip please?” She was sure there would be handprints on her arms where he squeezed.

“Answer the question and I’ll consider it.”

“See, there’s where I’ve got a problem. If you’re going to consider anything, it should be if you don’t let go of me immediately, I’m going to do something you won’t like. And really, I hate getting relationships off on the wrong foot.”

He squeezed harder. “Listen, woman—”

“The name’s Tess, remember?”

“Answer the question.” His gruff tone did little to persuade her. Scratch that. It persuaded her plenty. She’d been up against marks much tougher than this man and she slipped easily into the role of eliminator.

“I’d be happy to. Once you let go of me. Wasn’t I clear on that?” One swift knee to the groin and he’d be holding tight to something else.

“You really think you’re in a position to dictate this conversation?”

She batted her eyelashes. “Why yes, I do. And I believe my terms were immediately.”

“Give it your best shot,” he challenged.

With pleasure. But before she even got her foot fully off the ground, something happened. The air around her thickened, her vision blurred. Sharp, uneven concrete pressed into her back and she realized she was pushed up against a building. Dane’s hands were still on her arms, but the feel was rougher, stronger, fiercer. Had he grown sharp nails?

Her nose tickled, the back of her knees itched. She blinked several times, trying to focus and rid the haze in her mind that had sprung from the sudden movement.

When things cleared up seconds later, shock swept over her.

Dane had shifted.

Holy crap. He was a Veiler. A…wolfen. She studied his wolf-man features, discovering interest, not hate, bristled under her surprise. She’d never been this close to one before. His hands, neck and face were thick with hair. His eyes glowed a brownish-orange. She sensed more than noticed greater muscle and superhuman strength. They were the only race of wolf shifters that remained on two legs, and standing toe-to-toe with one made her want to know more about the elusive group.

She gulped. “You’re a wolfen?”

He didn’t looked surprised by her question, which meant he knew more about her than she knew about him. Her stomach clenched.

A regular person would freak out, but her calm response must have alerted him to her knowledge. Worse, though, than giving herself away, was that she hadn’t realized what he was. She hadn’t picked up on anything to indicate his true colors.

“From the pack Night Runner, and you’re mixed up in something you shouldn’t be, so get the hell out of here.”

“A Night Runner?” She hadn’t known there were different packs.

His deep grumble told her his patience wore thin. “Run, don’t walk back to your car.”

She didn’t give a shit what he wanted. “I’m not going anywhere until—”

Distress slammed into her. The picture of a gorgeous, strong, able-bodied man flitted through her mind. “Where’s Trey?” She swallowed hard as her heart took on a crazy uneven beat. If Dane was a Night Runner, was Trey one too? No. No. No. He couldn’t be. The first man to make her think of something besides work, to send a rush of adrenaline through her, to cause her to forget her better judgment, could not be some sort of shifter. The one form of Veiler she loathed more than any other. The kind of Veiler who’d taken the love of her life away from her.

Dane stared at her, as if deciding how to answer. “Trey’s not here.”

She turned her head in the direction she’d last seen him, searching for his leather jacket. When had her middle name changed to Idiot? The last thing she needed was a complication when her boss’s threat hung over her if she failed her next assignment. Rather than gallivant around deserted city streets to help a guy she barely knew, she should be home, researching. Figuring out a strategy to nail this Hugh Langston and save her own ass. Unless…

Unless she considered this research. Maybe Dane or Trey knew Hugh Langston? Maybe she could walk away from this a little wiser than she’d started. And besides, she was lying to herself if she thought she’d leave without making sure Trey was okay.

“No shit,” she said, staring right back. “I want to know what you’ve done with him.”

She refused to believe Trey anything but a man. His friendship with Dane had to be easily explained. Had to be, she realized, because he’d made her feel . The thought petrified her. Or was the realization that she might have liked a wolfen what scared the crap out of her?

“I haven’t done anything.” His growl bounced off the wall and echoed. “Now get the hell out of here.” He released his hold and backed away.

Her feet stayed glued to the spot. She hated being pushed around. And she hated not knowing the truth about Trey. If he was human, she’d help him. If he was wolfen, well, then, maybe they could help each other.

“Go!” he demanded.

“Dane, I can tell you aren’t going to hurt me,” she started, sweetness in her tone. “And I’ve got a feeling you haven’t hurt Trey either. I just need to know what’s going on. That he’s okay. Spell it out for me and I’ll be on my way.”

He sighed, as if he finally understood she had no intention of leaving until she got what she wanted. Took him long enough. She looked into his fiery eyes and tried to decipher just how big a threat he was. His demeanor confirmed her long-standing belief that shifters were bad news. Yet if he really was bad news, wouldn’t he have killed her by now? She was unarmed, pinned against a wall. He could easily end her life if he wanted to. But something held him back. Was it Trey?

Usually her instincts and intuition left her in no doubt of a Veiler’s proximity. Tonight she’d been clueless. She prayed her bad judgment wasn’t permanent.

“Hey,” she said, filling the silence. “You can trust me. As I think you’ve figured out, I’m not oblivious.”

“Trust doesn’t get anyone anywhere.”

“You can try lying then, but I’ll know. And then I’ll just be here longer.” She smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. Her feet were starting to hurt and she desperately wanted to get out of the damn dress, but she was battle ready. And by the look on his furry face, Dane knew it too.

Before he spoke another word, he jerked his head to the left. A second later, she heard a noise. Something resembling a trash can toppling over. A scuffle maybe? It was difficult to determine the distance, yet she was certain Dane knew. The hair on his arms stood up.

“No time,” he said.

“The hell there isn’t. Talk!”

“Listen, Blondie—”

“Tess.”

“Listen, Tess. Go back to your car and go home.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Where’s Trey?”

Another sound came from afar. This time subtler, more ambiguous. With his eyes carefully trained on hers, Dane took a few more steps away. “He went back to the bar. If you hurry, you might catch him.” And then he bolted.

With the speed and agility of a four-legged creature, he sprinted away and vanished around a corner.

There was a good chance he’d lied about Trey going back to the bar. After all, she’d given plenty of people the slip the same way.

But she took off in the direction of the restaurant anyway. If Dane were lurking, it might convince him she believed what he’d said. He didn’t have to know she’d be keeping an eye out for Trey along the way.

She ran her hands up and down her bare arms. With each step, nothing looked familiar, and she realized that she hadn’t paid close attention to the direction she’d gone. Good onya, Tess. One wrong turn and she’d be foolishly navigating alleys she had no business being in. Not without her purse.