Free Through the Veil by Shiloh Walker Page A

Through the sheer material of the flimsy pants she wore, he could see the outline of her legs, and he wanted to tear the pants away and run his hands over those barely hidden curves.
    She called the clothes pajamas. Said she wore them for sleeping, or sometimes to work. He had to wonder what sort of work she did wearing clothes that looked like they had been designed just to drive a man insane.
    Damn it, if another man had seen that sweet body he probably would have leveled his plasma rifle at him until the fool had the sense to direct his eyes elsewhere.
    Get her into base camp and get her dressed. Into some cavinir before some enterprising Sirvani saw the bright head of hair, all that pretty, pale skin, and decided she’d make a nice prize for his superior. All he’d need was a quick moment to use the poison made from the kifer weed. One little shaft that pierced the skin and Lee would be helpless. The poison never killed, just stunned and weakened, giving them a chance to capture their prey and make the journey through the Veil to Anqar.
    The Warlords would wage war to get their hands on Lee. Beautiful and ripe with power—and totally defenseless. He sensed the raw, exposed power inside her and knew he didn’t have much time before someone, or something, else sensed it. Right now, she would look very appetizing. Anqarian bastards had a fondness for swiping talented females, and Lee was about as talented as they came.
    The chilly air felt good along his heated flesh. He wore a black sleeveless cavinir tunic that left his arms bare after he’d taken his jacket off for Lee. She stumbled, and he moved to her side, sharp ears catching the whimper that escaped her lips before she clamped them shut.
    With a scowl, he hunkered down by her feet, lifting the one she had jerked off the ground, probing the little gash with his finger. “Damn it.” He scowled, standing up and reaching into the pouch at his utility belt. “You’ll heal up quick enough but I imagine it hurts.”
    Kneeling back at her feet, he directed a curt “Hold on to me” at her before lifting her slender ankle in his hand and applying a psi-skin bandage to it. Standing up, he saw the mutinous look on her face and rolled his eyes. “What?”
    Crossing her arms over her chest, she snapped, “I didn’t exactly plan on appearing here, slick. I might have packed some hiking clothes if I had.”
    Running his tongue along the inside of his cheek, he suppressed a smile. “I wasn’t scowling at you,” he finally said, knowing he’d guessed right when her eyes flickered. “I should have thought of your bare feet.”
    “Nothing we can do about it, so why does it matter?” she said. He had a desire to lean over and catch that sullen lower lip between his teeth, catch one more sweet taste of her mouth.
    Crooking a grin at her, Kalen responded easily, “Now, I never said there was nothing I could do about it, did I?” Slinging his pulse rife over his shoulder, he caught her up in his arms, hooking one hand under her knees, the other bracing her torso, chuckling as she yelped and threw her arms around his neck.
    It was nearly a mile back to the base camp. Foot travel had become routine again after so many years of using jetcars and avilifts. Even during the day, the motor and rumble of the machinery disturbed some of the bigger creatures that dwelled below. After a few years of nonstop attacks every time somebody climbed into a jetcar for a trip to the mercantilery, the people of Kalen’s world had learned very well how to live without some of the technology they had once thought so vital to their way of life.
    The devastation of Yorkton had seen to that. Even before it had been leveled, the once thriving city had been a feeding ground for one of the most deadly intruders.
    The ever-present rumble of the substation traffic had made it a prime attraction for the zandir wyrms. Those hell-beasts had truly devastated Yorkton. After the wyrms had wiped out the