Through the Veil by Shiloh Walker Page B

“You suggested that next time I could kiss your ass.” Through her thin pajamas, she could feel the heat and strength of his hand on her there. He squeezed lightly, and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from sighing a little. “I would be happy to.”
    He nuzzled her neck, his warm breath drifting over her skin like a caress. An involuntary moan slipped past her lips. She tried to make up for it by tensing her entire body, but she felt limp and loose as putty. Fortunately, she did have a little control over her voice, even if her damn body had developed a mind of its own. “Leave me the hell alone,” she snapped, and she was pretty pleased that she managed to sound more like a shrewish bitch than a sex kitten.
    Kalen laughed and slid his hand back up her body, his fingers trailing along the slope of her hip, the slight indentation of her spine, the curve of her breast. He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I will . . . for now.”
    “I think for the next fifty years would be better,” she mumbled. The nausea was completely gone, and the rest of the pain in her head had completely receded. The lack of pain didn’t make her mood improve, though. She could still taste that repulsive tea, and her face was still hot with embarrassment and irritation over the little trick he’d pulled, forcing that crap down her throat. Oddly enough, she would have been a little happier if she was still wracked with pain.
    He cupped his hand over the back of her neck. “Feeling better?”
    Obstinate, she lied. “No. I feel like hell.”
    His finger tapped her nose and he whispered, “You are entirely too stubborn. Get some more sleep.”
    Although she was exhausted, sleep was now the last thing on her mind. She wanted to stay awake, just because he had mentioned it. But only moments after he walked out, her lids started to droop.
    Before she realized it, she was sleeping, a deep, dreamless sleep.

FOUR

    Kalen barked out a series of orders to the small unit before him. Two of the members of that unit stood in the front, their eyes full of pride and purpose. The purpose reassured him, but the pride made him worry. They were so damn young— Kalen cut off that train of thought before it could go any further. Young, yes, but he’d been younger than the twins when he first started fighting. And the sad fact was that they were safer in his unit than they would be if he turned them away. They just would have sought out another resistance to join, if they lived through the journey.
    He had heard the soft footsteps behind him, but he didn’t turn in Lee’s direction as he finished reminding the two younger men before him that this wasn’t a game, or a contest about who had the bigger dick.
    “Lives are on the line here. We have to hold that line. No foolishness. No playing around. No antics. Just plant the plasma charges and get back here. It’s Morne’s job to stay there and monitor. Not yours. I don’t want any heroics or stupid acts of so-called bravery. I just want—”
    “The charges planted and our asses back here before nightfall,” Dagon repeated, rolling his grass-green eyes as his brother pretended to at least look somber.
    He didn’t like it, Kalen thought as he studied the brothers. Dais stood at his side in silence and Kalen slanted him a glance. The older man just smiled. They were ready. Or at least as ready as any of them could get.
    It’s not that dangerous a job, he told himself. The biggest danger this time of day was the charges themselves, and the twins were techno-wizards. They could handle a couple of charges. Finally, he blew out a sigh and said, “Go. Get on with it, and be careful.”
    Dais clapped a hand on his shoulder and murmured, “Don’t worry so much, Kalen. They are smart, strong kids. They’ll be back, and soon.” He grabbed a pack from the floor and slung it over his shoulders. “Now I have a watch to finish. Lelia.” He nodded at