Veilers - Veiled Target Part 33

The truck rattled again, rolling him so he completed the movement. Pulling her into his side, he held both her wrists with one hand and used the other to sweep down the length of her body. She started, a jump of surprise when he cupped her a.s.s and palmed the luscious curve before pulling her leg up over his thigh. He settled against her. His hips cradled in hers, he moved in to deepen the kiss.

She didn't fight him, just held her body still under his as he stroked his tongue along hers. Enticing her. Teasing her. She moaned, the s.e.xy little sound lost under his lips. He ravaged her mouth, taking and demanding, then giving back in equal measure when she responded. Slowly at first, just the tentative sweep of her tongue, her body rigid as though she fought temptation...then the dam broke. She whimpered against his lips, the sound of her surrender sweet music to his ears, and kissed him back.

Triumph roared through him. All the while his mind screamed at him about operational awareness. That now he had her subdued, he should be doing something about escaping. Wrap the chains around her wrists and imprison her against the cold, hard steel of the truck-side instead. Not kiss her like his life depended on it. Certainly not groan as her tongue slid against his, and roll so she rested on his chest.

Her hands drove into his hair, tugging and pulling at the long locks as she plastered herself over him. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s mashed against him, the soft mounds delicious pressure against the hard muscles of his broad chest. Her nipples were hard bullets under the damp fabric of her T-shirt and his groan joined hers as she rubbed herself, cat-like, over his chest.

Heat arched, little lightning strikes every time her skin slid over his, a storm playing out over and between them. A storm of pa.s.sion he wanted to wallow in, dancing and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g in the rain to make the woman under him his at last.

Knees on either side of his hips, she ground down, rocking against him and nipping his lower lip. Arousal shot through him at the pleasure-pain, washing over his scalp in a thousand tiny pinp.r.i.c.ks before rolling through his body.

"Tease."

He broke from the kiss to accuse, then dragged his lips along the sensitive curve of her neck, pausing halfway to breathe in her scent. Arms wrapped around her slender waist, he closed his eyes and held her to him.

Perfection. Utter perfection.

"I'm the tease?" She challenged, hands in his hair to drag his head back so she could look in his eyes. The red in hers was gone, replaced by a new darkness that set his blood and body aflame. He surged into movement, sitting up with her in his lap and reached for her lips again. She was his. He had to have her- The truck braked and turned, the mechanical sounds of a gate and conversation reaching them. Darce stiffened, fingers biting into her hips but once again she was too quick for him. The needle pierced his shoulder before he could push her away. Silver flooded his veins, the fresh hit stealing his ability to move. With a grunt he slid back, his eyes still on her.

"I'm sorry. I have to take you in."

Love blooms across species, cultures, and time.

Scent of Salvation.

2013 Annie Nicholas.

Chronicles of Eorthe, Book 1.

Stranded in another dimension, on a primitive version of Earth, Dr. Susan Barlow needs to find a way to survive. There's no electricity, no cities, and to her shock, no humans. Instead, she faces a population of werewolves, vampires and incubi. The people are vicious but she must find her place among them. And live.

An illness is killing Sorin's pack. As alpha it's his responsibility to save them, but it's a battle this warrior doesn't know how to fight. Then a blue light in the sky brings a creature he's never seen. She calls herself human, but to him she smells like hope.

Sorin offers Susan a safe haven in return for a cure, but she's not that kind of a doctor. She's a doctor of physics, not a physician. Yet as they search for a cure to save a dying people, they find something special-each other.

But even with Sorin's protection, Susan can't help but wonder how long she can survive in a world without humans...

Warning: Feral shifters, power-hungry vampires, and a sole human female suffering culture shock.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Scent of Salvation: "What are you?" the female asked.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was speaking to him. "I-I'm a wolf shifter, alpha of the Apisi." Taking a slow step forward, he sniffed close to her body. "What in creation are you?" Now that he stood only a few inches from her, he could see her un-callused hands, as if she'd never seen a single day's hard work. No scars on the exposed skin of her neck and face. Apparently, she'd never fought for dominance either. Even her fine, tailored clothes appeared too rich for the area.

She struggled to free her arms but only made things worse. "What?" c.o.c.king her head to the side, she stared at him. "I'm human."

"Stay still." He snapped the order. Sorin released his retractable claws on one hand, sliced the vines, and freed her arms. "I've never heard of hu-man. You must live farther south from the vampires." So he'd been following the scent of a human.

She clutched her neck with shaky hands. "Vampires?" Her gaze never left his claws as he slowly sliced her legs free.

Once done, he gave her s.p.a.ce. Her fear scent excited his beast since fright usually accompanied prey. He tapped his foot, his claws clicking against the stone floor. "What are you doing on Temple lands?"

"I'm lost." The human spoke so softly he had to strain to hear. She kept glancing between him and golden-furred Peder as if waiting for one of them to pounce.

He tried not to stare so hard. Soft creatures didn't survive in the wild long, and this female was filled with all different kinds of softness. He sighed. "Did you see the blue light?" All he had wanted was a few moments of peace. Instead, he found...her.

"No, where was it?" She sidestepped toward the Temple exit.

"Right above our heads, not long ago." His eyes narrowed. "I don't know how you missed it." Since she fell out of it. He'd seen her limp form tumbling in the air from the light just before it winked out.

She trembled, and her scent changed. "I-I-oh yeah, the blue light. Weird phenomenon. Scared the s.h.i.t out of me." She quickened her steps to the exit. "I should be heading home."

"How?" The scent of her untruths grew stronger. Everyone knew you couldn't lie to shifters. Why was she trying? "You just said you were lost. Will you wander unaccompanied through our forests until someone worse than me finds you?"

Peder quietly stepped behind her to block the exit. He might be submissive for a male, but he was smarter than most and could work without guidance. Sorin would make a hunter of him if it was the last thing he did.

The human blinked her large brown eyes, such an unusual color. Everyone he knew had amber, blue or green eyes, never the rich darkness of mother earth. Life came from the earth, which was why they returned their dead to it. Did this human bring life with her?

"Maybe the G.o.ddess sent her?" Peder's softly spoken question quieted Sorin's doubts.

Fanning his ears, Sorin stepped closer to her. "Did she send you?" What little hope he'd sheltered for his people had vanished this morning when he'd spoken the burial rites over the graves. This stranger shed some light through his despair.

She shook her head. "N-no."

"You will return with me." Sent from the G.o.ddess or not, he couldn't afford to take any chances by letting her go. So much for not dragging an unmarked female to his den. It would make hunting and defense that much harder since his healthy hunters would strut through their canyon home and beat each other senseless over a stray.

Her gaze darted to the doorway just before she slipped under his arm and past Peder's reach. Swift as a jackrabbit, she scrambled down the stairs and squeezed into the thick brush surrounding the Temple.

As he watched her escape, Sorin shook his head. He really was tired. Too many sleepless nights in a row were affecting his reflexes. The odd blue light, her sudden appearance and his need for a miracle were too coincidental.

He pointed at Peder. "Go get the flowers and bring them to Lailanie. I'll take care of the female."

"Chasing will only frighten her more, Alpha." Peder still stared at the floor, but at least he offered his advice without being coerced.

"What would you have me do? Let some other pack have her?"

"No, just don't be so...intimidating." He pointed to his exposed teeth with his claws. "Try not thinking she's prey."

"Go get the f.u.c.king flowers, Peder. I promise not to eat her." He leapt from the stone steps and skirted brush too dense for him to enter. The sly female wedged easily into the smaller s.p.a.ces where he couldn't pursue with his bulk, but the brush didn't lead anywhere. It only surrounded the Temple foundation. She was trapped.

Crouching low to the ground, he moved along the thick wall of plants. His little prey made enough noise that even the youngest of pups could track her. With ears fanned open, he followed her progress. The birds started their songs again as he got to the far end of the area.

By the Dark Moon, she moved slowly. He could have taken a nap while waiting. He watched Peder head toward their home with a small sack of flowers. The rustling in the bushes drew closer, and Sorin gathered his energy to pounce.

From out of the brush snapped a young sapling, which whipped the sensitive tip of his nose. With a yelp, Sorin fell back, clamping his hands over his muzzle. Through pain-filled eyes, he watched the female tear across the open ground.

Sorin blinked to clear his vision and bounded after his suddenly fast quarry. Her white coat fluttered behind her like a treaty flag, but this female didn't show any signs of surrender.

She ran full-tilt up the hill toward its summit.

Trailing closer, he could smell the trace of border markings on the wind. If he didn't hurry, she'd run off the neutral ground of Temple lands and onto some other pack's territory. He couldn't follow if she did. "Stop! There's danger that way."

She twisted and glanced at him, not watching her step. Something caught her foot at the top of the hill and she fell.

Sorin leaped, reaching with clawed fingers. They pierced the hem of her white jacket. The delicate material tore along the sharp edges of his claws, and the shreds slipped through his fingers. Relief mixed with triumph, pumping through his veins, gave way to dread. He scrambled to grab the tatters and not lose the female, but the momentum of her flight downhill sent her tumbling head-over-heels out of his grasp.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fict.i.tiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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Cincinnati OH 45249.

Veiled Target.

Copyright 2014 by Robin Bielman.

ISBN: 978-1-61922-173-4.