Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (12 page)

Hugh put the car in park and turned her way. He looked annoyingly handsome with just a hint of moonlight across his face. Probably part of some wolf privilege. He’d masked his mood though, his features vacant of any hint to his intentions.

“Here’s the deal,” she said. “You can’t breathe a word of who I really am to anyone. Not Dane. Not anyone. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll help you find Trey if you’ll help me find the wolfen I’m after. I haven’t got much. Just a name: Dobson.” She tried to get comfortable but it was impossible with her arms behind her back. “Ring a bell?”

“Not off the top of my head.” He eyed her suspiciously. “Why so talkative all of a sudden?”

She couldn’t tell him it was because she wanted to escape, and the only way to do that was to get on his good side long enough for him to let his defenses down and take the tape off her wrists. “I’m tired. Hungry. And need to use the bathroom.” An honest-to-goodness smile spread across her lips. The one she’d perfected in front of the mirror over the years. “Plus, I really do think you’re my best bet to find Dobson.”

He made no move to rip the tape from her wrists or help her out of the car. Damn him. “Why do you need to find him?”

Here’s where things get dicey
. A huge part of her wanted to tell him everything. Every little thing she’d kept bottled up inside for five years. Get off her chest the sadness, the anger, the failure she felt. What a relief it would be to share this burden with someone. Lay it all the line.

But she couldn’t. She had to remind herself this was a short-term deal. Once they helped each other, she’d have to eliminate him. She didn’t plan on making that job any tougher than it already was.

And she certainly couldn’t tell him she planned to kill Dobson once they found him.

“P.I.E. wants him in connection with a murder.” Making the hunt less personal seemed like the best way to go.

He raised one eyebrow as if he didn’t believe her. “You said it was personal.”

Damn. She had, hadn’t she? “It is. The man murdered was a friend of mine.”

She’d thought more about Jason tonight than she had in months. Time had succeeded in pushing him further and further from her daily thoughts, but it only took half a second to bring him back. And despite her heart’s mending, a piece of it had died with him. His death had hurt in more ways than she cared to analyze, and she’d do whatever necessary to never feel that contamination again.

“Man, huh?” Jealousy, however slight, clouded his voice.

A fresh wave of longing crashed through the promise of revenge she’d made to herself. She stared at Hugh, trying to decide if any man had ever looked at her the way he did. The sparks of interest that continued to ignite between them fanned brighter, and she fisted her hands, digging her nails into her palms. She should not want to kiss him again.

I hate wolfen. I hate wolfen.
She’d keep reminding herself of that little point whenever the urge to do something stupid—like lean in and brush her lips against his neck—hit. Unfortunately, his magnetic pull was ultra strong inside the car. She needed to get out. Fast.

“Do you think we could continue this conversation outside or wherever it is we are?”

“Too hot in here for you?” A devilish quirk of his mouth teased her.

“Something like that.”

He exited the car and came around to her side. She swung her legs out the door as soon as he opened it, but had difficulty getting up without leverage from her arms. He chuckled. She wanted to kick him, good and hard, right where it mattered. Instead, she looked up and raised her eyebrows.

“A little assistance?”

His hands spread around her waist and he lifted her in the air before placing her feet on the ground. For longer than necessary, his hands remained, arms outstretched. He looked at her carefully, as if trying to discern whether or not he’d made the right decision in bringing her here.

Cool air sent a few shivers through her. Now she really wished she’d worn her usual jeans and T-shirt. Trees loomed everywhere, darkness edging out any hint of light from the city. It smelled like a campfire and she wondered if a neighbor was roasting marshmallows. Her stomach growled for about the twentieth time.

“Watch your step.” He released his hold and turned.

“Where are we?” She stepped lightly, not wanting to lose her footing on the uneven driveway and fall flat on her face.

Hugh paused so she could catch up. He made a motion to put an arm around her but stopped himself. Once they resumed walking, though, she noticed him watching her footsteps.

“It’s a safe house.”

“You come here often?”

He swiped his hand in the air like he’d noticed a cobweb in front of them. “More often than not. It’s my second home, so I use it for more than safety reasons.”

Questions loomed in her mind. Why had he brought her here? How long did he plan on keeping her? What did he plan on doing to her? She shook her head. She meant with her. Although that sent her mind in a certain direction too.

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to see two steps leading up to a porch. A plant in a huge urn thrived, and an Adirondack chair sat beside it. Hugh unlocked the front door and pushed it open before entering. He wove his arm around the doorframe and a second later the porch light lit.

“Is this where you bring all your hostages?”

“You’re the first.” He crossed the threshold and disappeared inside the house to turn on the lights.

The one-story dwelling boasted hardwood floors, dark-painted walls, inviting furnishings, and a huge fireplace in the middle of the expansive room. Straight ahead looked to be a kitchen, while off to the right was a hallway. Being kidnapped didn’t seem so bad all of a sudden. She could get used to this place. It was much neater than her house. Kensie and Francesca were slobs.

“I’m honored.” She hunched her shoulder up to scratch the side of her jaw. “It’s a nice place.”

He stepped around her to close and lock the front door. She let her shoulders relax in anticipation of him removing the duct tape while behind her. Instead, he popped back into her line of sight. “I didn’t bring you here for your opinion.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To keep an eye on you,” he imparted. “You know the whole
keep your enemies closer
thing. I figure if I keep you in my sight, there’s not much you can do to plan my demise.”

She rolled her stiff shoulders back. “We need to talk about that. But first the tape really needs to come off.”

His eyes darted down to her breasts as she stretched.
Hmm.
She wasn’t beyond using her feminine wiles to get her way. In fact, he was the first mark she wouldn’t mind using them on.

“Talk, then tape.” He crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance.

“We’ve got a deal. I don’t need to repeat that. What I do need is to let you know that while we’ve got a deal, I won’t kill you.”

He laughed. The kind of deep, sexy laugh that drew people together. Only she didn’t think that was his intention. It was simply her reaction to him. His words confirmed it. “You don’t stand a chance of killing me. Now or later.”

“I beg to differ.” Who did he think he was dealing with? She was no amateur.

“I’d like to see that. I don’t imagine you beg very often.”

She wanted to wipe the smile right off his face. And would have if she’d had hands to do so. “That smart mouth of yours is not endearing. I can kill you. And if warranted, I will kill you.” She looked him up and down with what she hoped was an intimidating expression. “But not until we’ve found Trey and Dobson. Until then, we’re a team. I’ll trust you, and you can trust me.”

Tess’s judgment of character rarely faltered and her gut told her Hugh wasn’t a bad guy. She hoped when things were said and done, the answers she needed to eliminate him were crystal clear.

“You seem to think you’re in charge here.” He started to circle her like an animal ready to pounce on its prey. “You’re not.”

She turned her head to watch him, keeping her feet firmly planted in place.

“I do, however, like your terms and agree to them. With one stipulation.”

“What’s that?” She wasn’t in a position to barter. In fact, she was about to blow her stack at the predicament she’d gotten herself into. Foolish. Idiotic. Asinine. Moronic. All good adjectives for her.

About the time he finished one circle, she remembered her purse was in the car. Why the hell hadn’t she asked him to bring it in with her? Sure, he might want to search it, but she could talk him out of it. Somehow. As it stood now, she didn’t have a stitch of weaponry on her.

He stopped in front of her. “You stay here with me and have no contact with anyone else.”

“That’s called kidnapping. I thought—”

“Take it or leave it.” Whether he knew it or not, his eyes begged her to take it. The reasons could be several, but she chose to believe it was her irresistible charm. And maybe, just maybe, the blue dress.

“It makes it a little more difficult to do my job if I can’t—”

“Follow me.” He wheeled around, tossed his leather jacket over the back of the couch and started walking.

She followed him down a hallway and immediately fell in awe of the artwork on the walls. Framed black and white sketches, obviously by the same artist, hung in neat rows. The drawings depicted couples touching in some way, their warmth infectious. Tess lost her breath for a moment. Hugh might be part wolf, but his human side was dominant.

They entered the first door on the right, and she took in the most awesome display of high-tech gadgets sitting atop industrial tables. It almost put the research room at P.I.E. to shame.

“Everything we’ll need is here. I think it’s best to lay low and see what we can find out without making any appearances. At least until I find out who’s responsible for tonight.”

“Still, if I can’t contact—”

“You’ll talk through me.”

“So you get to talk to your people, but I don’t get to talk to mine? That hardly seems fair.”
This partnership is very one-sided
. Good thing she had plans to escape as soon as possible. She never did like stipulations. By her measures, they could work together whether under the same roof or not.

“Too bad.” He flipped off the light and led her toward the kitchen. She slowed her steps to take in the artwork.

“Did I mention I’m claustrophobic? That I can’t stand being cooped up in one place for too long? That I need to be around other people?” She hated the thought of being cut off from the outside world. Hated. It. Her throat squeezed.

“Don’t care.”

“How long do you see this arrangement lasting?”

“A couple days. Tops.”

Tess tried and failed to ignore his broad shoulders, the way his shirt pulled across his back, the nice fit of his jeans, as they entered the kitchen. She blinked and planned a vicious glare for when he turned around. Days? He planned to keep her for days? Unfortunately, the shine of the kitchen grabbed her attention and wouldn’t let go. Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, dark wood cabinets with the most beautiful beveled glass. A center island with leather barstools looked inviting, and—
oh my gosh
—in the corner stood another fireplace.

Maybe she wouldn’t escape.

Kensie and Francesca wouldn’t worry until she didn’t show up tomorrow morning, what with their encouraging words and the frangers in her purse.
Don’t think about the condoms, Tess. Do not think about them!
But a much bigger problem was her boss. If he found out what had happened, she might as well kiss her ass goodbye. Sayonara. One cheek to Japan, the other to Brussels.

That meant in order to pull this off, she needed her cell phone to call Kensie and Francesca. Tell them she’d infiltrated her target early and to let Christian know. Simple. And in all honesty, the truth.

“Fine,” she said, sick and tired of discussing it. “Now would you please cut this tape off my wrists? I really don’t want our time together clouded by memories of duct tape used in such an unprofessional manner.”

“Got any better ideas?” He pulled a pair of scissors out of a drawer and approached her with a grin.

“Now here I thought maybe you’d use your teeth.” She turned and presented her arms to him. “Or at the very least your big, strong hands.”

Looking over her shoulder, she caught a smolder in his sparkling blue eyes. He came up right behind her, so close she could feel his body heat. “There are a lot of better places for me to use my teeth and hands.”

Yes, please.
Tingles slid down her back and settled between her thighs. But she would not flirt with him. They needed to keep business and pleasure separate. “Such as?”

Okay, maybe just a little flirting. For fun. Nothing more.

“Are you asking for a demonstration?” His breath touched the back of her neck and her knees…knocked.

No, not her knees. The front door. A knock sounded at the front door.

She whipped around, nearly colliding with his chest. He pressed a finger to his mouth, indicating she’d better shush. A wave of anticipation swept over her. Being with Hugh, being partners in this game of cat and mouse fueled her desire for adventure—and intimacy.

She couldn’t wait to find out who’d come to visit.

Chapter Nine

“Don’t move and don’t make a sound,” Hugh said.

“But—”

“You heard me.” He nudged her back until she landed in a chair at the kitchen table. “Stay put.”

Tess grumbled. “I’m not—”

Another knock sounded, louder and more urgent.

“Yeah, whatever you’re not, suck it up. I’ll be right back.”

Hugh was pretty sure the visitor was his neighbor, Blanche. She kept an eye on the house for him. Fed the plants. Kept the place stocked with basic food and drink items—more if she knew he was coming. A mother, assistant and housekeeper rolled into one. He appreciated her help, but damn, the woman was too efficient, too watchful. At least when he didn’t want her to be.

He opened the door and, sure enough, there she stood.

As usual, she wore the plaid robe that had been her husband’s before he passed away, bright yellow slippers, and curlers in her dyed-red hair. Back in the day—that was what she’d say—she worked as an extra in dozens of films. Considered herself a sub-starlet. Her stories cracked Hugh up. Once a month she did a set at the Laugh Factory in Hollywood. Always had the biggest crowd.

“I thought you were on vacation,” she scolded.

“Hi Blanche. Nope. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.”

“I thought it was today. Didn’t you say the fourteenth? I could have sworn you said the fourteenth.” With her hands on her hips, she looked ready to barge right past him.

He blocked the doorway. A tiny bit of guilt overcame him. He knew she only wanted some company.

“The fifteenth, Blanche. But I won’t be leaving then either. I’ve got work to do so won’t get out of here for at least a few more days. I’ll let you know when I do. I appreciate all your help, you know.”

She tightened the knot around her waist. “I know, son. I didn’t recognize the car coming up the drive, so thought I’d better check it out.” She took a sniff that scrunched her nose and worried her eyebrows. “I smell perfume. Is someone here with you?”

Damn. He didn’t want her to know that yes, someone was here with him. Not that he couldn’t trust Blanche. He knew he could. And hell, how many seventy-five year-olds would be wise enough to notice an unusual car at eleven o’clock at night? Or have a better sense of smell than most women half her age? Indeed, what worried him was her tenacity.

“Actually there is.” She’d just figure out he was lying, and he didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship. “And we’d love some privacy for the next couple of days.” He winked, really just to see her reaction.

“Well what are you doing standing here talking to me then? Get back inside.” She waved over her shoulder and then hopped on her Vespa to get home. The scooter, a gift from her son, got her around the neighborhood. Hugh’s wasn’t the only door-to-door calling she made. Blanche called herself the resident neighborhood watcher.

Tess was right where he’d left her. With one startling difference.

Her hands were free.

His surprised expression must have said it all.

“You left these when you went to answer the door.” She held up the scissors he hadn’t realized he’d put down when leaving the kitchen.

She hadn’t escaped. She hadn’t come to the door. She’d freed herself and stayed put. He ran a hand along his stubbled jaw. “Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem. Blanche sounds like a sharp cookie. I like her.” She put the scissors on the table and rubbed her wrists.

“How’d you—”

“You didn’t really think I’d sit still did you? Especially after I got this annoying tape off.” She kicked the tape that lay crumpled by her foot. “I can tiptoe with the best of them. And my hearing may not be as good as yours, but it is good.”

Hugh registered her comments, but couldn’t speak. He noticed her wrists were red, maybe swollen. His muscles went rigid at the thought of his causing her pain. He’d been a jerk to leave the tape on so long. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” She released her wrists and slid her hands under her thighs on the edge of the chair. The blue dress hid the damage to her skin. “Unless, of course, I die from starvation, which is quickly becoming a possibility.”

If food made her feel better, he wanted to start cooking. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

The fridge had eggs, cheese, apples, carrots, root beer and bread. The freezer had a lot more to offer, but he didn’t want to wait for anything to defrost.

“At this point I’d be happy with peanut butter and jelly.” She slid off her shoes and skimmed her feet back and forth along the floor like a young girl.

That could be done, but he decided to offer something a little better. “How about a cheese omelet followed by root beer floats?” He pulled out the carton of eggs and package of cheese and put them on the counter.

“That sounds great. I haven’t had a root beer float in forever. Do you need any help?”

He zeroed in on the gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got it. You relax. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life, and I dragged you here.”

Her gaze held his. “You mean abducted me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Just having the last word.”

Hugh let out an exasperated sigh. The woman drove him crazy. Crazy good. “So what’s your last name?” He should know that. It would make things easier if he needed to do something about the hit on him.

“Damon,” she said without skipping a beat.

She might be lying,
he thought, but Tess Damon had a nice ring to it. Besides, there was no point in lying to him now. He knew her agenda.

“Tess Damon. Eliminator for P.I.E. Anything else I should know about you?” He dropped the stirred eggs into the pan on the stove.

“I’m also known as Apple.”

That grabbed his attention away from the cooking. He looked over his shoulder to find her checking out the kitchen. Her legs still swayed. She’d tilted her head back to take in the ceiling.

“Apple as in the fruit, or apple as in apple of my eye?”

She dropped her chin. “Aww, aren’t you sweet? Who knew?” A teasing lift of her eyebrows punctuated her reply. “It’s apple for apple pie.”

“You didn’t just give me your code name did you?” He grabbed a spatula out of the drawer and tilted the pan while keeping an eye on her.

Her expression shifted to a look of consternation. Oops. She’d let her defenses down. He took it as a sign she was comfortable with him. His muscles relaxed, the nervous energy circulating inside him subsided.

“Crap. I guess I did. But no worries. I figure when this is all over, one of us will be dead so we can pretty much say whatever we want to each other.”

The solid circle of egg he flipped almost slid out of the pan. Good thing he had quick reflexes. Righting it, he let what she’d just said sink in. Silence ensued for the next couple minutes while he finished. Then he got out two plates, cut the large omelet in half, and put a plate down in front of her. He took the seat across the table to keep some space between them. And even that wasn’t enough. Her scent made him hungry for a lot more than food.

“Thanks. It looks great.”

“What did you mean by one of us will be dead? I was under the impression I’m the only one with a death sentence.” Something else bothered her, and he wanted to know what.

She squirmed in her seat as if just realizing what she’d let slip. Again. “Oh, I just meant…” She took a bite of her omelet. “This is good. You’re not a bad cook.”

While chewing, he said, “You’re not getting out of answering the question.”

Quickly stuffing another bite into her mouth, she avoided talking for a little longer. Probably to try and think of something to say that would appease him.

“Can I have a glass of water?”

He got her some water. “Quit stalling, Tess. Talk.”

“Look, I don’t want to involve you in my problems. Let’s just keep this to finding our two missing people and go from there.”

“That’s where I’m assuming death comes into play. What sort of problem do you have?”

“Hugh,” she said with a tone that was appreciative but not conceding.

Contemplation crossed her face as she took one last bite of food. He was getting used to seeing the look, seeing the stress in her forehead. He imagined she didn’t confide in many people, kept deeply personal things to herself. Much like he did. It was easier. Safer to keep people at bay.

“You said we could say whatever we want to each other.”

“That didn’t include sharing secrets.” She ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

Frustration bubbled inside him. Was
he
so damn difficult with people who wanted to help him? “So somebody wants you dead?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No. You implied it.”

“No. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

He bore in mind that she was a P.I.E. operative, trained to keep her distance from others. He didn’t know how long she’d been working for them, but he supposed quite some time given her fearlessness and attitude.

She didn’t waver in her stare as she leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands in front of her. Hugh tensed at seeing her wrists pink from the duct tape.

Instinctively, he reached out to take her hands in his. The pads of his thumbs rubbed over her wrists. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Don’t be.” She made no move to break their contact. “If you hadn’t secured the tape tight enough, I would have gotten free.”

Her pulse quickened under his thumbs, her chest rose and fell. He was immensely in tune to every breath she took, and try as he might, he couldn’t hold back a gulp. Putting no blame on him proved how independent she was, how she didn’t want anyone’s sympathy or pity. He took heed and returned to the topic he wouldn’t let go until she gave him some answers.

“I’d like to help you.”

“You are. I’m convinced having someone with your”—she paused—“background will finally get me the guy I’ve been after.”

“I don’t mean that help. I mean help with whoever wants to kill you. I’m not a fool. I know about P.I.E. I know it’s dangerous. And I know when something’s wrong with you. Let me help.”

By the pained look on her face, he could tell his words meant something to her.

“Why?” Confusion marred the one word she’d chosen. “Why would you want to help me when…when all is said and done, my assignment is to kill you?”

“Tell me, Tess.” The physical contact between them, while simple, filled him with a complex desire to rescue her.

“No.”

“Tell me or—”

“Or what?” She yanked her arms back. “You’ll kill me yourself? Go for it. I’d like to see you try.”

“Or I’ll have to guess.” He slid his arms back to his sides. “And I think I’ve already got a pretty good hunch as to what’s going on.”

“Don’t tell me Night Runners can read minds too.” She shifted her eyes away from him for the first time since he’d sat.

He let a tiny smile cross his lips. “No. I can’t hear the words going through your head.”

“That’s good. Here’s
my
hunch. You’re the kind of guy who reasons longer than I’ve got time for. You’ve got that elaborate office setup, which means you’re a planner, a thinker, someone who has to have things all mapped out before he moves into action.”

She wasn’t too far off the mark. However, he relied on his instincts out in the field. “Tell me.” This time he included a growl.

“You go first, Mr. Know-It-All.”

Which meant she’d go second. He’d take it. “P.I.E.’s been hired to kill me. You’re the eliminator. You’re excellent at your job. Probably the best agent they’ve got. You work alone and you like it. But I think something happened on your last assignment. Maybe your last few, even. I get the sense you’re tiring from the demands your job puts on you.” He relaxed into the chair, pleased to see he had her utmost attention. “Then I come along at the wrong time and mess up your plans. You also like me, which puts a wrinkle in your mission.”

“I do not like you.”

“Yes you do. So let me think out loud here. Maybe you botched your last job. Now I’m next in line and things are…muddy. You’ve never asked for help before, and now you’re confused. We’ve struck a deal, and I don’t think you’ve ever done that either. What happens if you fail an assignment? Do you suffer any consequences?”

He pictured her standing at the end of a gangplank ready to jump into the rough seas rather than come clean and answer any questions. She looked that uncomfortable, that annoyed with him.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice finally teetered on the edge of concession.

“Hell if I know, but we met tonight for a reason. It was unintentional, unplanned. Maybe it was fate or karma or Trey’s bad luck. Whatever it was, the fact remains we’re both here right now to help each other. No secrets. No judgments. Just two people willing to go where most others won’t.”

“I don’t talk to anyone, Hugh.” Her shoulders sagged as she admitted what he’d already guessed. She blinked in rapid succession, her long lashes reminding him that she was vulnerable, that inside her tough girl exterior was a marshmallow core. She just didn’t want anyone to see it.

“Me either.” He was getting to her—he could sense it.

“How about that root beer float first?”

“Tell me,” he said again. She was right about him. He’d take all the time necessary to get an answer from her.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” She crossed her arms.

He did the same. “No.”

“Fine. Whatever. Yes, I may have f-f-faltered during my last assignment. And the one before that, there was a problem as well. But it’s just a fluke. Nothing my boss needs to be worried about. Only he is. And he’s pissed at me. And well, he said this was my last chance.”

She let out enough air to fill a balloon and make it pop.

The boss. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “Your boss is going to kill you if you don’t kill me?”

“Most likely.”

He rubbed his chin. “What if I’m innocent?”

“Haven’t met an innocent yet.” Her eyes betrayed her words, and he got the impression she might just think him innocent. For now, anyway.

“I don’t suppose you can quit?”

“Sure. When I’m dead.” She smiled. The kind of tight-lipped smile that put a person a little on edge. “So can I have that root beer float now?”