Behind the Veil: 3 (Temptation Unveiled) (6 page)

Not again.

His
voice came from everywhere and nowhere. In the
air. Under her skin. Pounding in her ears and scraping along her spine. “You
aren’t human. Hmm. I’ll admit my disappointment. Humans taste so much better,
you see, and you had me fooled for a moment. Got my hopes up. But their life
force is very distinct. Their souls. Their blood.
You
taste like a wine
I’ve sampled before. Familiar. You can’t be
Fianna,
I would know. But
why can’t I listen to your thoughts? And where, oh where, did the tracker find
you?”

It was a dream. The same dream she had over and over again.
A replay of her days with Eonis. Her punishment for allowing herself to be
kidnapped and used to distract the others from their mission.

“
I
have a question. Why are
you
so zombified
and disgusting?” she replied through gritted teeth, knowing this script by
heart. “And for the record, I am
half
human, thanks to my normal
deadbeat dad, wherever he may be. If you don’t like mixed cocktails, blame him
and let me go.”

The laughter lashed her skin—a thousand thread-like whips,
drawing blood along her bare legs and back, making her keenly aware of her
nudity and vulnerability. Of her precarious situation.

“Mixed cocktail indeed. You don’t even know what you are yet.
That is fascinating enough to earn my forgiveness.” Eonis sounded intrigued. “I
can see why he wants you now. A fighter. Delusional
and
immune to the
usual Fae enchantments. It’s an irresistible combination.

“The esteemed and honorable Finn much prefers a challenging
hunt, as do I. Perhaps because challenge is something the women of our species
never feel the need to offer. Danu taught them all to be whores.” He sneered. “To
give love freely, willingly and to as many creatures as possible. They spread
their legs for male and female alike, regardless of species, without
discretion.”

The mocking voice floating around her hissed to a whisper,
the lashes turning to light pricks of pain. “But the hunt, to me, is one of my
favorite parts of the meal. It is why I enjoy human women, you see? Prey I can
stalk, prey I can show that no matter how cleverly they hide, I will find them.”

He paused for a moment, as though savoring his words. “I’ve
spent a long time seeking out one particular morsel. I lost her for a while,
but her fear calls to me, and as soon as I complete my task, I can have her.
All you have to do is tell me where they will take her. Linnea and her child
each have something I value. I will find out regardless, but if you tell me
now, I will let yougo without damaging you beyond repair. I must hurt
you, regardless. Finn and I have a history, you understand. But I can hold back.
I
will
hold back, if you tell me all you know.”

She didn’t want to do this anymore. She knew what happened
next. Pain. Unendurable pain and humiliation. By the end of his torturous
interrogation, she was so broken she
would
have told him where they were
if she’d known. A woman and her innocent child, people she hadn’t even met. She
would have sacrificed them to escape consciousness. To escape Eonis and his
brand of punishment. To escape everything that had happened to her family since
Meru had awoken The Book of Veils.

A sudden wave of warm light infused her aching, bloody
limbs, easing her pain. It reminded her of her mother, Lily. Of Meru. And it
gave her strength.

No more. If this was a dream, then she could find a way to
control it. Whether a remnant of the bastard was still inside her head or not,
she would not play with him tonight.

She wrenched her arms free of their restraints with
surprising ease and snarled into the mist. “We’ve danced this mambo before,
asshole. We both know the steps. I will never tell you anything you want to
know. And you? You will die horribly and almost anticlimactically in the
knowledge that you failed your master. You
failed
. You will never touch
Linnea or her child. Never wield the sword. You lose. You will always lose.”

A nerve-jangling scream made the room around her quake
before it disappeared altogether, so abruptly it made Sheridan shout in
surprise. She looked around and noticed she was standing in what appeared to be
a long hotel hallway filled with doors.

“This is new.” But even if her dream took a turn toward
The
Shining
, it would be better than the memory she’d finally been able to
escape. She wasn’t about to question her good fortune.

She walked down the seventies-inspired paisley-carpeted
hallway, shivering in relief as she counted each of the plain, beige doors she
passed. The thrill of escape had given her a strange sense of euphoria.
Giddiness. How many nights had she been trapped with that monster, only finding
release when she woke? She had no idea why she’d been given a reprieve, how
she’d managed it this time when she’d never been able to before, but she
honestly didn’t care. The chance for a new dream was too tempting to ignore.

“Eenie. Meenie. Miny…” She took a breath, wrapped her hand
around the nearest doorknob and turned.

At first all she could see was fog. Not like the darkness
she’d just come from; this was more like early morning mist waiting to be
burned away by the light of the sun. It cleared quickly to reveal a cavern made
of crystals glowing with soft, enticing blue light. A small, clear pool of
water covered what should have been a hotel room floor.

Weird.

Sheridan leaned closer without entering the room, seeing the
image of a white fawn staring back at her from the reflective surface with
large, sad eyes. Despite the disguise, she knew right away who it was.

“Danu? What are you doing here? Are you the one who helped
me escape?”

A pebble thrown in the center of the pool made Sheridan gasp
and look up. She wasn’t alone. A large, handsome man with tousled, fiery
red-gold hair and eyes that glinted with a silvery sheen similar to Myrddin’s
stared back at her, smiling kindly. He leaned over to pat the animal beside
him. A grayhound the size of a pony.

“Since they can’t have the sword, they’ll want my spear,
young one.” His voice was a rich rumble that made her feel oddly safe. “It is
one of the few remaining objects that can free him. Danu cannot see all the
traitors, nor can I, so it is up to you. They won’t be able to resist your
arrival. The inheritance is yours by right. If the cause is just and you follow
your instincts, you will prevail. Quickly now, girl, it is time to leave the
Eastern Portal. It is closed to you with good reason and must be kept that way
until the time is right. Come home to the North.”

Inheritance? Portal? Who was this man? Sheridan’s fear
returned, and with it a powerful wind that pushed her backward. The door closed
with a bang and disappeared before her eyes. She placed her hand on the wall
that now stood in its place.

“Hey, guy? Buddy?” She pounded her fist against it. “What
did you mean? What spear? Who
are
you?”

She blew out a frustrated breath at the silence that
followed. “The correct answer, Sheridan,” she muttered to herself, “is strange
and not remotely helpful. But harmless. So that’s good.”

She should pinch her arm or something. Try to wake up. What
he’d said seemed important. At least, she was pretty damn sure Meru would think
so. Maybe
she’d
know what it meant.

So why wasn’t she in any hurry to leave?

Another door stood at the end of the hallway. It hadn’t been
there before. With the certainty that only came in dreams, she knew that was
exactly where she needed to go. It could be the way out. Or maybe her answers
would be on the other side.

In the blink of an eye, she was standing in front of it,
biting her lower lip in anticipation. What would she find? She felt a tug at
the center of her being pulling her inside the room as the door opened, then
closed behind her with a definitive click. What she saw stole her breath.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The alley was dark and wet, the wall in front of her covered
with graffiti, and a man-shaped portion of that artwork was blocked from her
view. The figure was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, his back to her and his hands
up in surrender.

What the hell was going on?

“Spread ’em, Tracker. You’re surrounded.”

Sheridan felt her eyes widening almost painfully as she
watched a policeman come forward and yank the man’s hands down behind his back,
cuffing him with an obvious air of satisfaction.

The cop turned to her, for some reason reminding her of
Harold Delaney from her old precinct. Without the sneezing. “You’ve done it
again, Detective. Gotten your man. The boys can’t wait to see you interrogate
this lowlife. He’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with you.”

“Great,” she mumbled, suddenly wishing she was back in the
hotel hallway. Where was Danu? What about the spear? What did this have to do
with anything?

Hooded sweatshirt guy was turned around to face her and she
gasped, taking a few steps back. “Finn? What the hell are you doing here?”

Finn grimaced. “It appears I’m being arrested.” He studied
her for a moment before starting to smile. “Nice uniform, by the way. No wonder
I let you catch me.”

Uniform? She looked down at herself and almost groaned in
despair. She was in stiletto heels, thigh-high stockings and a short leopard
print dress that fell loosely off one shoulder. Was she undercover as a hooker
or just trapped in some eighties cop movie that time forgot?

She raised the gun she was apparently holding and glared at
him. “You didn’t
let
me do anything. I’m the one with all the cards now,
Tracker.” She paused and shook her head. “I’m not sure why I just said that.”

The words had come out of her mouth as if she were following
a script. She had a lot of experience with crazy dreams lately, but this one
topped them all. “I have to get out of here.”

She spun on her ridiculously high heels and almost screamed
in frustration. No longer in the alley, instead she was facing the inside door
of an interrogation room, and Finn was chuckling behind her.

“I had no idea this was normal police procedure. A life of
crime is looking more and more appealing by the second.”

Sheridan took a fortifying breath and turned to face him
again, her knees almost buckling at the sight of her “suspect”.

Her imagination had never been this good.

Maybe it was the shock. The unexpectedness of the scene.
Maybe she was hysterical. She should have been drooling. Panting. Stripping.
Instead she covered her mouth with one hand, then the other, trying to hold it
in, but the flood could not be denied. Her laughter bounced off the walls,
filling the room until Finn was glaring from the metal slab he was currently
cuffed to…wearing nothing but a small towel around his hips. “Is this your
interrogation technique, Detective?”

“I have to admit, this is a first for me.” She leaned against
the door, her body heating, heart skipping and starting to race with
delight—just from the sight of him. He was gorgeous, even all trussed up.
Especially all trussed up. “I know you’re the star of most of my kinkiest
fantasies, but this scene might top them all.”

Finn looked frustrated, but attentive. “So you don’t usually
have men strip-search me and chain me up for your pleasure?”

Strip-searched. Damn, she was sorry she’d missed that. “What
did you expect, Tracker? You’ve evaded us for far too long. It’s time you came
clean.” She stomped her foot. “Again with the shitty dialogue.”

A knocking sound made her turn her head and notice their
audience through the viewing window. A line of sexy, shirtless men with badges
on their belts…and her old pal Sneezy. The Harold look-alike spoke into the
microphone. “Need any help in there, Detective Kelly?”

“I really do,” she muttered, then shook her head. “Watch and
learn, boys. He’ll tell me where he’s stashed it if I have to work him over all
night long.”

Finn sighed and banged the back of his head against the
metal, drawing all her attention. “So, they’ll be watching us then?”

“I thought your people enjoyed that sort of thing.”

He licked his lower lip and she shivered. “Oh we do. I don’t
mind the audience. And not that I don’t like the sound of you working me over
all night, but just what do you think I’m hiding and where could I possibly put
it? In case you hadn’t noticed, you have me at a serious clothing
disadvantage.”

She’d noticed. God, had she noticed. She stared almost
helplessly at her prisoner. His stunning face. Those long-lashed eyes, high
cheekbones and lush lips. His hair fell across his forehead, softening the
perfection with a playful air. Too beautiful, she’d always teased him. But she
could see it now in a way she’d never been able to before.

Finn wasn’t a berserker or a muscle-bound shifter—but there
was no mistaking him for anything other than pure, uncompromising male.
Battle-tested and sexy as hell. Beautiful and deadly and handcuffed for her pleasure.

The knowledge in his eyes alone was arousing, and she knew if
he wanted to, he could have escaped the shackles without using his ability to
flash away. Knew he could easily gain control of this situation. Of her.

Why hadn’t he?

She noticed scars scattered across his body like a road map.
They were similar to the ones on her skin. She never noticed them before. Sheridan
imagined it would be a hard thing to scar a Fae. To get close enough. To be
powerful enough to cause any lasting harm.

She walked across the room and reached up to touch his bare
flesh. Her hands flattened on his chest, sliding over his heated skin to touch
each mark she could see.

Touching him. How many times had she dreamed of doing this?
But it was different this time. It felt real.
He
felt real. More real
than any fantasy she’d had about him before, and that fact only fueled her
hunger.