Veilers - Veiled Target Part 7

"Pretty much." Something flashed in his blue eyes and he quickly looked away.

"Can you control your s.h.i.+fting?" She told herself to guard the things going on inside her head more carefully.

"Yes."

"Are you thinking about s.h.i.+fting right now?"

"Yes."

"Wanna jump off a bridge?"

"Ye-" His gaze jumped back to hers.

She smiled. "Just checking to see if you were listening. How about we grab a burger and fries when this over?"

He tiptoed closer. Her senses not too shabby either, she could feel the heat radiating off him, smell his masculine scent magnified by the intensity of the situation. She saw beyond the whites of his eyes to something that made her feel like she'd swallowed the tiny white, twinkling lights found in trees during the holidays. For a split second, she thought he might lean in and kiss her. She wanted him to lean in and kiss her.

Instead, his warm breath tickled her ear and he whispered, "Let's focus on getting out of here alive."

Blinking away the pleasant sensations circulating through her body, she silently cursed her trembling knees back into kickboxing mentality.

"No problem," she said, her tone serious and tough.

What an idiot she was. He had no interest in her whatsoever. He'd flirted with her some, yes, but that was because he thought she might know something about Trey. Now that he knew she didn't, as soon as he could ditch her at her car, she'd never see him again.

Until she started investigating him, that was. And then it would be all about the job. She'd decide on a course of action and without his knowledge, get her hands on information to prove he wasn't as nice as he appeared. P.I.E.'s clients always had good reasons for hiring the company, so this time shouldn't be any different.

Even though it felt different.

She pushed herself away from the shelving, forcing him back. "What's the plan?"

"The plan is you're going to get out of here, and I'm going to deal with the Banoth. If you go back the way we came in and-"

"Oh no-"

"Oh yes-"

"Oh h.e.l.l no." She put her hand over his mouth as he was about to speak. "I am not running away from this thing. It tried to take a bite out of my backside. Sorry, but I'm staying, and I'm going to make that SOB pay for its actions. So you can just tell me how we kill it, and the sooner we get the deed done, the sooner you'll be rid of me."

He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand from his mouth with a firm, yet gentle hold. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. A low growl escaped his pursed lips. "I don't have time to argue with you."

"That's right. So how do we kill it?"

"You're no ordinary private investigator." He placed her arm at her side and released his grip. His steely gaze said he was trying to intimidate her, get her to tell truths she didn't share.

"Maybe I'll fill you in sometime, but not right now. I think tall, dark and hairy is coming to get us."

As if on cue, the shelving unit beside them toppled over, boxes falling to the floor with a thunderous crash. Banoths obviously weren't keen enough to hit their target unless it stood right in front of them.

"Run!" Hugh yelled, shoving her away from the jagged pieces of clay pot littering the floor.

"Would you quit saying that? I know."

They took off again, Tess leading them through a maze of aisles. After tearing around a corner, she halted abruptly when she noticed the s.h.a.ggy savage waiting for them at the other end.

For a creature that had to weigh at least five hundred pounds, it sure traveled quietly. And if she wasn't mistaken, its thick botoxed lips were pursed in a smile that said "come and get me, baby."

Not sure what to do, she looked over her shoulder for help from Hugh. He wasn't there. Great. She turned her head back to her enemy and plastered her sweetest closed-mouth smile back at him. They glared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before she wondered if he understood English and she could talk her way out of this.

"Hi. I'm Tess. And you are?"

The beast snorted and sc.r.a.ped one of its feet like it was getting ready to charge.

"Okay, so talking is out of the question." Instead, she might have to play matador. The super-sized Cousin It looked ready for a bullfight. Steam even came out of the area she a.s.sumed housed nostrils. It was hard to tell underneath all the hair.

"You colorblind?" she called out, referring to the color of her dress. Red, blue, she supposed on the color wheel they might be pretty close to each other. She'd never paid much attention during art cla.s.ses.

Another gruff sound answered her. Where the h.e.l.l was Hugh? He wouldn't leave her here alone with this monster, would he? Sneak out on his own and go find Trey, happy to have her occupied. No. He wouldn't dare. Would he?

Trying discreetly to dart her eyes to the left and right, she searched for something to help her out. Once again she mentally reprimanded herself for going out alone at night without her purse. At the very least, she should have strapped a knife to her thigh. But nooo. She'd been too anxious to follow Trey. Who was really Hugh. Who was a Night Runner. And terribly hard to forget. Even now, under the present danger.

She found nothing to aid her in the overwhelming desire to shove something sharp into the Banoth's chest, so decided there was only one course of action to take. She was a pro at it by now.

Run.

This time, knowing better than to turn her back on a stinkball-throwing giant hairball, she hoped its depth perception was off, and he wouldn't notice her taking cautious steps backward. Holding her breath, she inched away from the Banoth. As soon as she reached the end of the aisle, she made a sideways beeline for safety.

Hugh wasn't going to find Trey tonight. In fact, he doubted the information Dane had received was accurate at all. The more likely explanation included a setup to capture and kill Dane and himself. With the three top Night Runners out of the picture, the pack would be vulnerable to a takeover. Or worse.

Someone had orchestrated this whole thing, Hugh was sure of it. And whoever that someone was went to a lot of trouble and expense. Sending a Banoth to take care of business meant the stakes were high, the job top priority.

Right now, his priority was Tess. He'd ditched her to s.h.i.+ft so that he could better protect her. It killed him to think he'd gotten her into this mess. Sharp pains jabbed his stomach at the thought of harm coming to her. Anger bubbled up inside him. He'd rip out the Banoth's throat if the creature got too close to her.

In a matter of hours, she'd gotten under his skin. He knew because hot vapors rushed through his body whenever they touched.

He'd traveled beside her just now, his shadow under her feet, without her knowledge so he could figure her out. Her tough and fearless personality wasn't for show. Her smart mouth not all talk. He knew she'd deliver every bit as good as she got. Watching her speak to the Banoth had made him ridiculously hard. She turned him on with her unwavering confidence, despite their predicament.

Pots suddenly crashed to the floor, and he bit the side of his mouth. In his haste to follow Tess as she ran from the Banoth, he knocked over a stack of ceramics. She turned on her heels and landed a right hook to his jaw.

"Ow," he said, rubbing a hand over the painful spot. "What was that for?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know what was behind me." Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. "So I decided to act without thinking."

"You do that a lot?"

"All the time."

"Duck!" he yelled, dropping to his knees.

She obliged as another putrid smelling ball of slime sloshed past their heads. "Can't you do something about this thing?"

"Come on." He took off toward a stairway he'd caught sight of, and taking the steps two at a time, raced to the second floor with Tess right behind him. The stairwell was small and narrow, and the Banoth would have trouble getting through it. That might buy him the few minutes he needed to figure a way out of the building. They reached a small landing, then turned to run up a second flight.

No matter what she said, he was determined to get her the h.e.l.l away from the beast. If it sank its fangs into her, she was dead.

"By the way," she said as they raced up the stairs, "thanks for leaving me alone. Really. I appreciate it. It shows how much confidence you have in me."

He wasn't sure if she was serious or not, but he didn't have time to decode female speech at the moment. They were about to collide with a metal door. Why the f.u.c.k was there a steel door at the top of the stairs?

Tess b.u.mped into him. Her eyes must have been on the steps and not where she was going. He couldn't blame her. He saw just fine in the darkened stairwell, but imagined she didn't.

"A little warning next time," she said.

"We've got a problem," he answered, releasing the locked door handle.

"Yeah, I know. And he needs a haircut."

"There's a steel door here and it's locked. We need to go back the way we came." As he stepped next to her, he noticed her blink a few times to adjust her vision. Or maybe it was to adjust to the sight of him in his Night Runner form.

"Huh. Probably two different companies lease the building. You can't break it down?"

"I'm strong, but not that strong. The good news is I don't think the Banoth followed us this way." He started down the stairs with tentative steps. "Stay behind me."

She grabbed the back of his s.h.i.+rt like someone would if they were in a crowd and didn't want to get separated. The gesture felt too comfortable, too meaningful. He gulped. Whether he cared to admit it or not, he wanted much more than to see her to safety.

"So about these fangs," she whispered. "Are they like vampire teeth, or worse?"

He didn't answer right away, instead trying to keep his mind focused on the task and not her warm breath making the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention again.

"Because the way I see it, with a mouth the size of my arm, I'd say worse. And where does all that stinky slime come from?"

Ignoring her questions, he turned the corner on the small landing. As he'd suspected-given the narrow pa.s.sage-the flight of stairs was empty. That didn't mean the Banoth wasn't lurking nearby, but he'd take the opening.

"Also, you mentioned a friend. Do you think the second Banoth is about to show up? Because I'd really like to be prepared for that."

The woman obviously talked when she was nervous. Or talked to hear herself. Either way, her voice made it difficult for him to concentrate. "Shh." He took the last step to the warehouse floor. His ears perked up, his nostrils flared.

"Don't shush me."

"Okay, shut up."

He visualized the building. Every inch of it, until he heard footsteps above his head and knew the Banoth was visiting the second floor. He had about thirty seconds to get Tess back to the door they'd entered through, and kick her a.s.s out.

"Screw you."

That warranted a glance over his shoulder. A few comebacks came to mind but he decided to smile instead. Let her stew in her own words. With a touch of pink in her cheeks to match a touch of want in her eyes, he didn't need to say a thing. Really shouldn't say a thing.

"Remember where the door is that we entered?" he asked, eager to get her to safety and out of his sight. If he had any hope of salvation, he needed to cut ties immediately.

"Of course I do." She b.u.mped his shoulder in a playful gesture that amazed him, given their situation.

"Good. We're going to haul a.s.s there. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." She nudged him to the side and took off. "First one there wins."

Following her was no hards.h.i.+p. The dress wrapped around her body like cellophane and all he could see was every delicious curve. G.o.d, how he wanted to strip her. Lick her between the legs until she came on his tongue. Touch her until she came on his fingers. Move his c.o.c.k inside her until she came screaming his name. His attention was so focused on the slope of her back and how much he wanted to enter her from behind that a moment later, he didn't even see the terra cotta pot coming.

Pain blasted into the side of his head and he fell to the floor. Large, jagged pieces of brown clay surrounded him, one lodging into his palm as he cus.h.i.+oned his fall. He didn't stay down longer than two seconds before jumping to his feet ready for battle, claws bared.

The Banoth had other ideas.

Tess's scream hit him like daggers pelting his chest. Granted, the scream rang more ornery than frightened, which gave him some slight consolation, but not nearly enough to stop his heart from racing.

When he turned down the aisle where the shriek had sounded, he found her in the Banoth's clutches. Her feet were dangling in the air while the beast held her by the shoulders, shaking her like a piggy bank. She swung her legs, trying to kick him, but the animal's outstretched arms were too long.

"Put me down, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

As amusing as the picture was, Hugh knew the Banoth didn't plan on playing for long. Chances were the creature had never handled a beautiful blonde in a blue dress before. Add in the wiggles she was doing to free herself, and no warm-blooded male of any species would refuse that show.

"G.o.ddammit! If you don't let go of me right now, I swear to G.o.d I'll-"

"Put her down, Banoth. Your fight's with me." He strode into the animal's line of vision, ready to do whatever it took to free Tess.

As the beast turned its oddly shaped head and melancholy face his way, Tess continued to squirm. The Banoth glanced from him back to her before it opened its mouth and launched a giant smelly spit wad at him. d.a.m.n, he hated those things. The only other time he'd had the pleasure of coming face to face with a Banoth was four years ago and the thick liquid had hit him in the back. It stung like h.e.l.l.

Ducking out of the way, he lunged toward the beast.

The Banoth halted Hugh's advance by decking him with a sideswipe from his horns. Hugh landed on his backside, and watched in horror as the Banoth quickly opened his mouth and revealed its fangs.

Tess screamed. No matter how hard she kicked and carried on, she was no match for the Banoth's overwhelming strength. Hugh's jaw tensed. He didn't understand why the creature wanted her if he'd been sent after him, and the thought riled him into action.

Without consideration, he lunged for the Banoth's legs and sank in his claws. A blood-curdling wail came from the animal's open mouth and it dropped Tess. She back-peddled out of the Banoth's reach until hitting the side of a shelf with her back.

"Get out of here!" he yelled.

"Not without you," she hollered back.

Hugh let out a snarl. If she wouldn't listen to him, he had no choice but to kill the Banoth. Or die trying.

With his claws digging in deeper, he flipped the Banoth onto its back. No easy task, and a move the animal didn't care for. One abnormally long arm extended to grab Hugh by the nape of the neck. The beast pulled with enough force to lift him off the ground and rip his claws out of the animal's legs. The Banoth rose, taking Hugh with him until it was his turn to dangle in the air. But he was taller than Tess, and swinging his legs vertical, he shoved the heels of his boots into the Banoth's chest. The beast grunted and threw him across the room.

The Banoth followed up far too quickly for a creature its size, rus.h.i.+ng at him before he had time to catch his breath. The beast sank a fang into his shoulder at the same time Hugh drove a claw into its torso.

The gouge was enough to get the Banoth to lift its fang, and the two of them rolled across the cold concrete floor, each grabbing for the other like professional wrestlers. They tumbled into a shelving unit, knocking down pots that crashed over their heads. The sickly scent of the Banoth-a combination of vomit and dirt-made Hugh's nose itch. It tried to spit poison on him, but Hugh jerked out of the way. Only to roll over the slime a minute later. The sting didn't stop him.

He clawed at the beast, taking out chunks of hair and flesh. The Banoth nicked him again with a fang, this time on the upper arm while Hugh pinned him down. When he flipped Hugh over, the creature went in for the kill, two fangs landing in the center of his chest.

It didn't matter that he was a half s.h.i.+fter-any significant amount of poison would have dire effects. Mercury tipped bullets or darts would get the job done quicker, but good old-fas.h.i.+oned venom, if left to circulate in his blood stream long enough, would also be deadly.