Robin Bielman - Veiled Target

One wrong move and she might never see Trey again. She stopped and let that thought sink in. The longer she stood there thinking, the more Trey’s charm wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Which really sucked. It made her head hurt, her mind cloudy. She’d risked enough in her professional life and had vowed never to risk again in her personal life. Yet here she was, torn by a brief encounter. There had to be something wrong with her.

Somehow, her feet started moving again. She muttered a few foul words she hoped might set her straight. To her dismay, she liked—really liked—a guy who may or may not be a shape shifter. Criminy. She’d also been spotted, then cornered by Dane, meaning her tailing skills had flown out the window. And she’d broken the heels off one of her best friend’s shoes, a friend who could be sweet as cherry pie one minute and far less amiable the next. Double criminy.

She may as well surrender to the insane reality she’d plunged herself into. Really, there was no sense in thinking about what lay ahead or what she could have done differently. She needed to care about right now. Because, par for the course this evening, she found herself not anywhere near the bar. Crossing a narrow street, she looked down the alleyway to her right and swore she saw movement. Curiosity being another of her endearing qualities, she decided to go in for a closer look. Maybe it was Trey. And not a rat or mouse or other icky rodent.

She tiptoed down the darkened alley. Without a cross breeze, the stagnant air stank of sewer stench. This was definitely stupid. But stupid was a lot more fun than being sensible. When she let her guard down, her mind buzzed with anticipation, her body perked up.

As she drew closer to the big black dumpster in front of her, she noticed the alley extended much farther than she’d thought. Shit. She glanced behind her, then paused to let her eyes focus on the depth of the alley and listen for signs of life. If she needed to get out of there fast, she’d sprint back the way she came. But when she got to the dumpster, she found nothing. The flash of something that had caught her eye must have been in her imagination.

Her shoulders fell. She turned around and bumped smack dab into another body. A hoarse yelp came from the back of her throat. From surprise, not fear. Never, never fear. When she looked up from the broad chest that smashed her nose, she nonetheless gave a sigh of relief.

Trey stood before her, his mouth a tight line, his eyebrows raised.

“Trey! Are you okay?” She almost reached out to touch him, but clenched her fists at her sides instead. She also decided she sounded way too concerned, given his stern expression, so she added, “I mean, what the hell is going on?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She took a step back because his close proximity made her knees weak. He looked just as good as he had in the bar. There wasn’t a hair out of place to indicate he’d done anything but go for a walk. Thankfully, his eyes shined bright blue, not brownish-orange.

But he’d snuck up on her without making a sound.

“Me? I’m just out for a little exercise is all.” She rolled her shoulders back and tilted her head from side to side.

“Cut the crap, Tess. Why were you following me?”

“How do you know I was following you?” Oops. She meant to say, “What makes you think I was following you?”

He gave a knowing smile—that looked ridiculously sexy rather than irritating. “I know you don’t want to insult my intelligence so let’s just say for argument’s sake, if you were following me, why would that be?”

At least she’d gotten him to change his tone.

“Truthfully?” She leaned a little closer to him. She couldn’t help it.

“That would be nice.”

“I’m really not a very nice person,” she announced.

“Neither am I.” He reached out and moved a strand of hair behind her ear.

Was he trying to confuse her? Because it was working. She’d nearly fallen into his hand before he pulled it away. He was indeed a very bad man.

“That’s good. I hate nice guys. So where does that leave us?”

“I haven’t got all night, Tess.” He lowered his chin, indicating—she presumed—he was growing tired of their banter.

She lifted an eyebrow. “No? That’s too bad. I’m a night owl. I can—”

“Answer my question before I haul you to your car over my shoulder.” His tone sent a little zing of pleasure right to the tips of her breasts.

“As if you could—” She was over his shoulder in one second flat. He moved swiftly, quietly and with superhuman strength. Uh oh. “Hey, put me down!”

He started down the alley, seemingly unbothered by her spastic attempts to get him to let her go. “You ready to walk and talk now?”

“Fine,” she conceded, although the view of his backside was pretty damn good.

When both feet securely hit the ground, she tugged down her dress and shifted the V-neck into place. He watched her squirm to put the rest of the material back where it belonged and his roving eyes heated her from the inside out.

“I followed you because I wanted to help.”

He started walking. “Do I look like I need help?” A little gleam—and major interest?—flickered in his sideways glance.

“Well, no. But I’m very capable and I didn’t feel like going home, so I decided there was no harm in making myself available to you should you need me.” She took a deep breath. It was time to put the question out there. “Did you know Dane is a—”

“Wolfen? Yeah I know.”

“How do you—”

He stopped and turned toward her with confusion and passion in his deep blue eyes. For several seconds he stared at her, like he was trying to get inside her head. Guess what she was thinking. “I’m the leader of the Night Runners,” he finally said.

She imagined he’d told her something he’d never told another human being before.

What the hell was she going to do now?

Once again, Hugh spoke without thinking. The woman made him forget himself. The way she just came out and asked if he knew about Dane. The way she’d interrogated Dane on his behalf. He’d never met a woman more open and inquisitive. More concerned. A characteristic he was sure she’d deny. Probably didn’t even realize she had it. Caring, his instincts told him, was something she did unconsciously. She’d look out for herself before anyone else, sure, but she’d lay her life on the line for someone she cared about.

And she cared about him.

His gut clenched. The spot behind his left ear pulsed. She hadn’t cowered when Dane shifted, hadn’t been surprised. Or afraid. That meant only one thing. She knew about Veilers. Which was part of the reason why he’d told her who he was.

The other part was he didn’t want her to give a damn about him. He already felt a territorial urge for her that unsettled him. He didn’t want that urge. Not after what had happened to his brother. When Max’s mate died, his brother couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t live with the grief. He’d died from a broken heart three months later. Hugh had watched him weaken and suffer, and hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it.

If Tess knew he was a wolfen, she’d surely want nothing more to do with him. Right? She’d run in the opposite direction. They’d go their separate ways and the unwanted stabs of desire he felt for her would go away. He’d continue to lead his pack in solitude, find Trey and get on with his goddamn vacation.

Which reminded him why he’d doubled back to confront her in the first place. His main objective was to find out why she followed him—he didn’t entirely believe her offer of help—and whether or not she knew anything about Trey’s disappearance. That and get her the hell out of here. Hugh smelled something dangerous. He didn’t want Tess getting mixed up in his world.