A Veil of Secrets Page 21

  Our eyes locked. I gasped and backed away slowly. Clayton’s pupils flashed silver, huge, luminous and spellbinding. His wings twitched with his effort to still them, but vibrant reds saturated his skin as his arousal heightened and called forth my body’s own response.

  “Go.” He clutched his head, breaths ragged. “Run!”

  I turned, but from the corner of my eye I saw him fall to the ground. Instead of leaving, I took a half step forward.

  “Get away from me!” He slashed the air inches from my face with razor-tipped claws. “I can’t control myself. It’s too much. Your scent…” His wings stretched and then cloaked his body as he hid himself from me. “Find Figment, she knows the way.”

  This time he didn’t have to ask twice. I spun on my heel and ran.

  For a chance at love, he may have to offer up his last drop of blood.

  Warrior’s Dawn

  © 2014 Isabo Kelly

  Fire and Tears, Book 3

  Branded a traitor, Althir of Glengowyn has resigned himself to life as outcast from his own people—until he’s offered a chance at redemption. A suicide mission to retrieve a vessel bearing the ultimate weapon: the Sorcerers’ true names.

  His companion on the journey is a human woman unlike any he’s ever encountered. Beautiful. Brave. Fascinating. And before he knows it, keeping her safe is more important than his own salvation.

  Mina Dawnswealth’s talent for spycraft has kept her alive even as her dreams—and her family—have fallen victim to the war, one by one. Much as she hates the idea of helping the traitor elf, at least she gets the pleasure of burying a knife in his back should he decide to betray her people again. A much easier task if she didn’t find him so compelling.

  Only when they’re beyond the point of no return do they discover just how much blood their mission will cost. And how much love it will take to overcome their pasts—if they survive.

  Warning: Contains an arrogant ass of an elf hero and a human heroine with a bitter past who would like nothing better than to kill him. Danger, fighting, hard language, magical. mayhem, deadly Sorcerers and hot sex fueled by an addictive pheromone. Can we get a “Hell, yeah”?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Warrior’s Dawn:

  Althir stepped over the body, took her hand and hurried toward their exit. He paused before rushing out into the night, listening for signs of ambush from outside or that the alert had been raised inside. When he was sure their exit was safe, he pulled her into the streets. They raced back toward the road Mina needed to get them to their second hiding spot.

  Once well clear of the storage hold, though, Mina jerked him to a stop and pulled him into an empty building. He was about to protest, but she put her fingers over his mouth to silence him. The contact was more of a shock than any real impediment to speaking, and he couldn’t manage to form a coherent sentence even if he’d remembered what he wanted to say.

  Instead, all he could think was that her fingers were warm and held that very faint but elusive scent that defined her. And that it would be very easy to pull one of her fingers into his mouth to taste her. He was surprised at how desperately he wanted that taste. He held her gaze for a long, charged few heartbeats before she finally dropped the touch.

  Motioning him farther into the dark entryway, she stopped when they were well out of sight from any of the windows. He glanced around quickly, taking note that they’d ended up inside what seemed to be a house, then he focused on her again.

  “There’s no one here,” she affirmed in a whisper. “I wanted to… With this detour for your weapons, we aren’t going to reach the next place I wanted us to hide before dawn. We took too long.”

  When he would have commented, she raised a hand.

  “I’m not complaining. We couldn’t have done that any faster with so little complication.”

  He raised his brows at the “little complication” comment.

  She ducked her head. “About that. Thank you. For…”

  When she trailed off, he smirked. “For not letting him kill you? If I’d done that, who would watch me to make sure I didn’t turn traitor again?”

  She kept her head down so he couldn’t see her expression clearly, but he did catch her slight flinch. His satisfaction with the reaction mingled with another emotion he didn’t entirely recognize in himself and so didn’t bother to analyze.

  “Well. Anyway, I do thank you.” She held out a hand and finally looked up to meet his gaze. “My sword, please.”

  He wanted to mock her for the “please” too but didn’t as he handed her blade back.

  She sheathed it then gestured at his sword hung looped through his belt. “We’ll try to find you a scabbard in our travels. That will be too hard to get at if we find ourselves in a fight.”

  He just stared.

  Flicking her tongue out to wet her lips, she said, “Since we won’t make our original hiding spot, I have a backup we can head toward. It’s closer but a little out of the way given our ultimate destination.”

  “Fine.”

  The glint of moisture on her lips from that quick pass of her tongue captured his attention. How this woman managed to irritate and entice him all at once, he couldn’t begin to guess. But at the moment, he didn’t really care. He was too busy wondering what that full mouth of hers might taste like, and if she’d still stick her sword in his gut if he tried to kiss her. Maybe not, since he’d just saved her life. Though he suspected he’d still get a sound slap for his efforts. He smiled, just a little, certain the sting of that slap would be worth it.

  She sucked in a sharp breath and his gaze dropped to her breasts. Ah, but this woman made him forget where they were, what they were doing, the fact that she hated him, that a part of him resented her. Everything that should have put a halt to his growing desire got swept away under the need to touch her. To fill his hands with her full breasts and taste the skin along her throat, searching out her sweet flavors.

  He didn’t think he moved, not even to step toward her and act on his growing fantasies, but she made a sudden sound and jerked backward a few steps. He met her gaze without even an ounce of guilt for staring at her breasts or considering all the ways he’d like to taste her.

  Her pulse was actually visible in her throat, and he could hear the increased speed of her breathing in the otherwise silent room. She was affected by him. That was obvious. Despite her own distrust and hate.

  Maybe she wouldn’t slap him too quickly if he moved in for that kiss…

  Before he could, though, she said, “We need to move. We won’t reach our new safe spot if we linger here too long.”

  “Then why did we stop?”

  Her expression shifted through a series of emotions he couldn’t follow before she settled her gaze on his shoulder. “I wanted to tell you about the change of plans.”

  “You could have done that while we moved.”

  “And I wanted to pause long enough to thank you. For…”

  “Saving your life,” he finished for her, amused that she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “You could have said that once we reached the safe spot.”

  “It needed saying sooner rather than later.” She straightened her shoulders. “Let’s move.”

  Without waiting for his response, she returned to the door she’d so recently dragged him through, studied the street beyond, then slipped out into the night, leaving him to follow.

  He didn’t let her get too far away before joining her. He had no intention of letting her get too far away from him for the next several days. More often than he should, he caught himself watching her rounded ass as they skirted close to the buildings and down darkened streets. He might still get slapped, maybe even end up with one of her swords in his gut, but he would have the kiss he so desperately wanted.

 
Sooner rather than later.

  He’s racing for a prize. She’s running for her life. And they’re on a collision course.

  The Farthest Shore

  © 2014 Marian Perera

  Eden Series, Book 3

  Captain Alyster Juell is relishing the taste of his first command for the fleet of Denalay. The steamship Checkmate doesn’t carry weaponry, but that doesn’t matter. His mission is to win an ocean-crossing race—and its hefty prize.

  As the voyage gets underway, Alyster hits his first snag—there’s a stowaway on board, a reporter who poked around for information about his ship the day before. And it’s too late to turn back.

  Miri Tayes didn’t intend to stow away. She was forced to run for her life when a colleague discovered her secret: She can pass for normal but she’s a half-salt—daughter of a Denalait mother and a pirate father.

  Despite her lack of seaworthy skills, Miri works hard to earn her keep, and Alyster, taken with her quick wit and steely nerve, falls for her. But as the race intensifies and the pirates use a kraken to hunt down Checkmate for its new technology, the truth could be the most elusive—and dangerous—prize of all.

  Warning: Contains a reporter hiding a dangerous secret and the captain who’d like to strip her bare in more ways than one. Also pirates, prejudice and passion.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Farthest Shore:

  Putting the lantern down, he pulled the crate’s lid off, blade at the ready.

  A woman’s corpse was curled up inside. Or at least that was what it looked like until she twitched and fell still again. Alyster caught her shoulder and pushed hard to roll her face-up.

  He recognized her despite the blue-grey undertone to her skin, and the half-lidded eyes that didn’t seem to see anything. He touched her throat. A pulse pressed against his fingers and didn’t return for what felt like half a minute, just like the way she’d rapped on the inside of the crate. How long had she been in there? He looked away from her face and saw the blood, clotted and dried, but still recognizably blood.

  Belatedly remembering he no longer had to deal with this by himself, he yelled for help, then slapped the woman’s face lightly. “Come on, wake up.” What was her name? She’d told him, but he couldn’t remember.

  Steps rattled under the impact of feet, and he shouted at whoever it was to bring Dr. Berl. The woman seemed to be breathing a little more often now, though, and the blood beneath her skin was visible where he’d smacked her. Her eyelids quivered and so did her limbs.

  She was still mostly curled up in the crate, so Alyster sheathed the saber, slid his arms beneath her knees and shoulders and lifted her out. Carry her to the surgery? No, best wait until Reveka made sure it was safe to move her. He laid her on the floor instead, and her eyes opened fully.

  “Can you hear me?” he said.

  Her lips moved, though her voice was so quiet he had to lean down to hear. “’m s-sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Sorry I…scared you.”

  Alyster drew back, not sure what to say, but no reply seemed to be called for as the woman’s eyes went wide. With a whimper she doubled over, face to the floor. The sound turned to a muffled keen, and he guessed she was feeling blood flow back into limbs held cramped and motionless for too long. Risking her life and going through that much pain seemed rather drastic measures to take just to report back to the Endworld Beacon about his ship.

  The sound stopped, and she worked a trembling arm beneath her, but before she could lift herself off the floor, Reveka came clattering down the stairs. Alyster stepped aside for her.

  “I found her in this crate,” he said as he replaced the lid.

  Reveka went to her knees beside the woman—now he remembered her name, Miri—and took a wrist between her fingers, her other hand snapping open the lid of a pocket watch with practiced ease. Unity, Alyster thought, everyone has a watch these days.

  The woman’s damp hair hung down lankly, hiding her face, but the questions in Reveka’s eyes were only too clear when she finally put the watch away. Alyster shrugged.

  “She’s from Endworld,” he said, “and she was asking questions about the ship yesterday, but that’s all I know.” A handful of the off-duty crew had crowded into the hold to gape, so Alyster leveled a look at them until they began to shuffle out. “Dunvin, make yourself useful and get some hot water,” he said, and told Reveka he would fetch some rum.

  He didn’t know if that was medically advisable for the woman, but he could certainly use it now that the surprise of his discovery had worn off. By the time he returned, Reveka was inspecting a gash on Miri’s arm. Nasty. He would have distrusted a small scratch, but that looked like the kind of injury which resulted from blocking a blade.

  “How did you get that?” he said.

  Miri licked her lips. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and dry, but quite intelligible.

  “A man tried to kill me,” she said.

  Oh, that was one for the logbook all right. Alyster said nothing more as Dunvin came in with a steaming jug, while Reveka produced a pair of shears and cut away Miri’s sleeve. He uncorked the bottle of rum and held it up, but Reveka shook her head.

  Before this voyage is over, we might all have learned to speak without saying a word. He offered Miri the bottle.

  “What is that?” She didn’t look at all enthusiastic.

  “One of the best from Varland Distilleries. They call it Admiral’s Blood.” He held it out. “It’ll make you feel better, trust me.”

  She swallowed a mouthful and grimaced, but there was color in her lips now. Reveka cleaned the wound with hot water, while Alyster took the bottle back and sipped, feeling the warmth of the deep green glass where Miri’s mouth had been. She looked a little more alive now, and the muscles in her face relaxed slowly as Reveka bandaged her arm.

  “Any instructions for your patient before I take over?” he said, recorking the bottle. Reveka shook her head again, slipped rags and shears into her pockets and began to rise.

  “Wait.” Miri started to put a hand on Reveka’s arm, then seemed to think better of it. Her voice was still throaty, but now that was probably the effect of the strongest rum on board rather than of near-suffocation. “Thank you for your help. I’m Miri Tayes.”

  “She’s the ship’s physician,” Alyster said. “Dr. Reveka Berl.”

  Miri blinked. “Doesn’t she speak?”

  “When she has something important to say.” He reached down to help Miri up, thinking it was almost a tradition that fleet doctors were brilliant eccentrics. Reveka left as Miri clutched his hand tightly and got to her feet, swaying as she let go.

  He took her condition in with a single look. Nothing but limes and straw had been in the crate, so obviously she hadn’t brought any extra clothes, and the ones she wore were not just torn but filthy. His first priority, though, was to make sure she wasn’t a threat to the ship.

  If she was? Checkmate was so stripped down for speed that she didn’t have a brig. Well, he’d cross that strait when he came to it.

  “Let’s go.” He picked up the lantern and allowed her to precede him out—not so much from courtesy as from caution that wouldn’t allow him to turn his back to anyone he didn’t trust. It took her a little while to climb the stairs, but while she looked wobbly on her feet, she didn’t fall. Alyster wondered if she was hungry. If her story passed muster, he’d send for food.

  He directed her through the narrow corridor that led to the officers’ quarters in the stern and the captain’s cabin at the very end, a suite consisting of a tiny bedroom and a slightly larger cross between a dining room and a study. That was a good enough place to question her, so he pulled out a chair and she sank into it as if the journey had taken the last of her strength. Alyster locked the bottle of rum away. No need for the lantern now the windows admitted plenty of
sunlight, making Miri look even more draggled and weary.

  Except for her eyes. The lids were swollen, but the alert look was back. And the hollows around her eyes made them seem larger, like pools in autumn, brown leaves and water.

  He steered his thoughts away from that distraction. He had to question her while she was at a low ebb, and there would never be a better time to begin. Drawing another chair out, he sat down facing her.

  “What exactly are you doing on my ship?” he said.

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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 fictitiously 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.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  A Veil of Secrets

  Copyright © 2014 by Hailey Edwards

  ISBN: 978-1-61922-451-3

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2014

  www.samhainpublishing.com