Skin Walkers

by Susan A Bliler

  She thought back to the way he’d dropped to his knees in clear agony. The whole time he’d kept his eyes locked on hers. Strange eyes. When she’d first looked at him, his eyes had been a startling gray. No, not gray. They were bright silver. Weird enough, but when he went down his pupils had dilated so fully that his blown-out eyes looked black with just a ring of silver on the outside.

  He’d watched her the whole time, even through his sudden attack. The feral possessiveness in his eyes had terrified her, almost as much as the fact that it had unleashed something molten low in her belly. Even now, a strange sensation swirled there.

  A loud knock at the door made Briel startle hard. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and they hadn’t ordered room service, they hadn’t needed to.

  Quickly, she rushed to wake Fena and hide her. They’d practiced this same thing dozens of times throughout the day. She’d been so terrified at the condo when she’d come out of the bathroom to find Fena standing with the front door wide open and that man staring down at her. Fena knew now to be quiet, to not question what was happening and just stay tucked away in a little ball like she was supposed to.

  Silently, Fena slipped as far under the bed as she could go, and when the knock sounded again, Briel smoothed the comforter back into place and rushed to the door. Turning, she ensured Fena was out of sight before she tiptoed and peered out the peephole. Heart in her throat, she held her breath so whoever it was wouldn’t hear her.

  It wasn’t him! Thank God! It was a woman, a maid. She was wearing a uniform and paced back and forth as if bored with a stack of towels on her upraised palm. It made sense. The concierge had seen them come in and had commented on their drenched state. Briel had mumbled that they were fine and rushed to the elevator, but he must have known they’d need fresh towels. They did. Between drying off and their bath, they’d gone through all the towels in the suite. Still, Briel eyed the woman a few minutes longer just to be safe.

  Muttering something, the woman plastered on a fake smile and faced the door to knock again.

  She was pretty, with long dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. There was one white strip of hair from just above her right eye that was a stark contrast to the rest of her dark locks.

  Satisfied she wasn’t here to do harm, Briel inched the door open and searched the hall before smiling. “Those towels for us?”

  The woman grinned. “Yep. Kristoff…the concierge said you might need them.”

  Briel opened the door wider and stepped out. “Yes. We do.” She was reaching for the towels when the maid dropped them and caught her wrist, holding it tight.

  Briel’s eyes snapped up and rounded as she stared at the woman, but movement down the hall drew her attention.

  It was him!

  Chapter 8

  Eyes locked on the man, Briel tried to jerk her hand back. When the woman didn’t let her go, Briel’s gaze jerked back to the woman as she tried again to pull free with a cried, “Let me go!” Her eyes sliced back to the man who was heading toward them.

  He looked different now. Yesterday he’d been in an expensive-looking tailored suit. Today, he looked like a Navy Seal. Dressed in black fatigues with his pants tucked into high tactical boots. For a moment, she hoped he was one of her father’s soldiers, but all thought fled when he stalked towards her with a lethal grace that increased her frantic struggles. “Please,” she begged, eyes still locked on the man as panic filled her. “Let me go!”

  It was too late. Inches from her, he reached out and gripped her forearm just above where the woman held her wrist. He spoke to the woman but kept his eyes on Briel. “Thank you, Aries. And thank you for taking the redeye. I’ve got it from here.”

  Without a word, the maid released her before bending to pick up the towels and turning to walk calmly down the hall like she hadn’t just handed Briel over to this…this…mercenary?

  The guy was terrifying. His tone held such power. His scent was so masculine that Briel couldn’t stop the shiver that tore through her. The guy was huge! His shoulders were nearly as wide as the door and he was easily two feet taller than she was. He had silky-looking, sandy-blonde hair and that bright silver was back in eyes. Even with his scars, he was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Still, warning bells were blaring in Briel’s head. She stammered, “Wh-who are you? What do you want?”

  The man smiled and it was a breathtaking sight. Perfect white teeth shone brightly, emphasizing the tan of his skin. Briel would have been drooling had it not been for the fact that the smile twisting his lips didn’t match the weighty gravity that filled his eyes.

  “Briel, my name is Tyce. Tyce Steele. May I come in?”

  She bristled. How does he know my name? Who is he? What does he want? Her eyes dropped to the hand still gripping her arm and she didn’t feel like she had much choice. Still, she attempted to mask her wariness and didn’t acknowledge that he’d addressed her by name. “N-no. Sorry, but I’m expecting someone any moment.” She stepped back and tried to pull her arm with her, but he didn’t let go.

  “Listen,” He slowly released her arm and then patted it as if to ensure her he meant no harm. “I’m here so that you and Fena…”

  He didn’t get to finish. Once Briel heard Fena’s name she lurched back, slamming the door just as she saw his eyes round and his hand snake out to grab her. She’d been faster. Her hands raced for the locks, but she wasn’t fast enough this time. A hard shove on the door sent her flying back. She hit the floor hard and it took a moment to recover as Tyce stepped into the room, leaving the door ajar behind him. When his eyes landed on her prone position, some emotion flitted across his face she couldn’t place. For a second, she thought it was concern, but that didn’t make sense. Fear for Fena forced Briel to her feet in a scramble, ignoring the whine in her bones from the jarring impact with the floor.

  “Who are you?” She growled, all pretense gone as she backed into the corner furthest from where Fena hid.

  Brows dipping, his eyes narrowed on her. “Are you alright?”

  She ignored his question, gritting out a second time, “Who. Are. You?”

  Tyce’s eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Fena?”

  Briel’s heart stopped. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no one here but me!”

  Tyce’s attention reluctantly left her face to scan the room. “You wouldn’t be too far from her, so I assume she’s hidden in this room.”

  How does he know that? When he took a step toward the bed, Briel knew she had to distract him. She lunged toward the dresser nearest her and snatched up the steak knife she’d placed there after her and Fena’s dinner earlier. “Hey!”

  Tyce’s attention turned back to her and she stammered as she tried to devise a reason for seeking it. She slowly circled with the knife extended out in front of her, while Tyce watched her with no concern at all on his face. Briel inched toward the door, hoping to draw his attention from the bed. “If…if you want the girl, I’ll take you to her. Sh-she’s not here though.” She hoped to draw him out of the room, praying Fena would know to run once she left with the stranger.

  The man tilted his head and eyed her for long moments before a corner of his full mouth lifted. He studied her so intently it was unnerving, until he finally breathed, “Self-sacrifice?” He closed the space between them, but Briel held her ground.

  When he was just a step in front of her, he stared down at the knife in her hand with something she almost thought resembled tenderness. “How extremely rare.”

  Before she could even react, he had the knife out of her hands. It’d been so fast, she could’ve sworn his arms had blurred.

  The knife dropped with a muted thud onto the carpet just as one of his hands lifted to cradle the back of her head while the other snaked around her waist pulling her body hard into his. She opened her mouth to scream, but his lips sealed over hers, stealing the sound.

  He was kissing her! It took her mind a second to register what was ha
ppening, but when his tongue slid into her mouth and touched hers, she jerked back and sealed her lips as she shoved at his chest.

  He pulled back but kept her body clamped to his as he looked down at her with an almost apologetic look. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

  When he released her she stumbled away, pressing the back of her hand to her lips before commanding breathlessly, “D-don’t do that again.”

  He stared at her a few more moments before blinking hard and clearing his throat. “You and I both know you’d never give up your sister.”

  How does he know she’s my sister? Without the knife, her only weapon was a bluff. “I-I don’t want to hurt you, Mister. Just leave!” Her whole body was shaking now. She’d never suspected that he’d so easily disarm her or see through her scheme.

  “As much as I ache to make this easy for you, there isn’t time. My boys have spotted another team moving in. They aren’t mine, which means that we need to move. Now.”

  She took a step back closer to the door. In a last-ditch effort, she’d turn and run and hope that he’d follow. Before she could put her plan into action though, her brows tugged down in confusion when Tyce said, “Gently, Conn, I fucking mean it!”

  It took Briel a second to realize he wasn’t speaking to her, and that second turned out to be too long. Firm hands grabbed from behind and she panicked when she heard Fena scream. She fought like a wildcat against the man holding her. He was strong, so damn strong. His arms were like steel bands around her, preventing her from striking out, and as much as she struggled, she couldn’t break free. Fear-filled eyes watched as Tyce lifted his nose and sniffed before pacing to the bed.

  Briel yelled, “NO! DON’T!”

  She fought harder, and it hurt. The man had to tighten his grip on her arms, and she knew she’d have bruises if she survived.

  The man holding her ordered, “Don’t fight, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

  She didn’t stop though. She jerked and struggled with all she had. Terror lent her strength when Tyce squatted, lifted the bed effortlessly with one hand, and disappeared from view.

  “NO! STOP! NOOOOOO!” Her scream was cut off by a large hand that clamped over her mouth as her tears flowed down to brush those fingers.

  The bed settled back on all four legs and Tyce stood with Fena’s little body hooked close to his own as she sat on his forearm, large eyes seeking out Briel.

  Tyce’s eyes landed on her too, and suddenly the silver was gone. Pitch black eyes pinned just over her shoulder as his lip peeled back in a vicious sounding snarl that flooded her insides with dread. At the sound Fena gasped and jerked around to stare at him as she lifted her little curled fists to her mouth.

  At Fena’s reaction, Tyce’s face blanked, and when he spoke again his words were strained. “You’re hurting my Angel, Conn.”

  The second the man’s hand left her mouth, Briel begged, “Stop! Please! Please!” Defeated tears continued to spill forth and Briel’s voice broke on a sob. “She’s just a little girl. Just take me. Let her go and take me. Please, I’ll do anything you want, just let her go!” She stopped struggling in an attempt to show that she’d go willingly, and her heart broke when Fena spoke.

  “S-sissy?” The word came out tremulously, and when Fena’s big brown eyes filled with huge tears Briel turned imploring eyes to Tyce.

  “Please?” she begged. “She’s all I’ve got. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

  The man rubbed a finger over Fena’s cherub-like cheek, speaking directly to the child. “Hey sweetheart, don’t you cry. My friend and I are here to help you and your sissy. We won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  Fena turned to stare up at Tyce, her bottom lip jutting out. “A-are you going to hurt sissy?”

  “No, sweetheart. We’re going to help her.”

  Briel watched the exchange, stunned at how gently Tyce interacted with Fena. Hell, she almost believed him.

  He turned, pinning her with a stern look. “We’re all leaving here together to go someplace safe. Isn’t that right, Briel?”

  Her name sounded odd on his lips. Whoever Tyce and his friend were, they knew too much about her and Fena. The hands on her tightened, not painfully, but enough to evoke a response. “Y-yes,” Briel spoke through numb lips eyes pinned to Fena’s. She tried to appear reassuring, but couldn’t manage to force her trembling lips into a smile.

  “Good girl.”

  Briel wasn’t sure if Tyce was speaking to her or Fena.

  “Gently, Conn.” Tyce commanded the man still holding Briel, and she gasped when he released her from his hold before gripping her shoulders tightly as he steered her toward the door.

  Frantically, Briel jerked her head around to watch over her shoulder. She wanted to make sure that Tyce followed, with Fena. He did.

  In the hallway, Briel drew in a lungful of air just as that large hand slammed back over her mouth. The man holding her, Conn, prevented her from calling out even as his other arm snaked around her waist and hoisted her off her feet. She struggled in his grip, knowing this was her last chance at saving Fena.

  One of her hands shot up and clawed at the hand over her mouth, but it didn’t budge. She kicked and flailed until harsh words at her ear made her freeze.

  “For your sister’s sake, be still!”

  Briel’s eyes widened at the threat, and she drew sharp breaths through her nose in an attempt to calm her labored breathing. She tried to look back at Fena, but the arms locked around her waist and covering her mouth were too tight. Despair gripped her then.

  She’d failed. Poor Fena, what have I done! Her vision blurred with a fresh wave of tears and she could barely make out the door suddenly in front of her or the stairs in the stairwell she was carried quickly down before she was carried out into the cool night. A limo was waiting, and she half-expected to be tossed into the trunk, but the back door was opened and that woman who’d pretended to be the maid stood waiting. She shot Briel a sympathetic look before Briel was loaded into the back seat.

  Fena was placed in the back seat with her and Briel whimpered, fingers shaking as she snatched up her sister as fast as she could, crushing Fena against her chest, arms wrapping protectively around the younger girl as she tucked her into her side and used her body to shield Fena from Tyce as he climbed in behind them.

  Chapter 9

  Tyce was torn. Part of him wanted to punch through the glass partition behind him so he could choke Conn for the bruises he could see forming on Briel’s arms. A bigger part of him wanted to do or say something to stifle the scent of fear pouring off both Briel and Fena. For a moment, he considered offering them a drink but chucked that idea. If he’d just been kidnapped, the last thing he’d want was a cold soda. What he’d want was answers. It was as good a place as any to start.

  “I’m taking you both someplace safe.”

  If he thought the admission would earn him any gratitude, that hope died rapidly when Briel shot him a scathing look over Fena’s head where it was tucked into her chest. The scent of her rage blossomed in the confines of the vehicle and he tried to ignore how it excited him. He typically despised that emotion in others. He saw it as a challenge. But, the sweetly enticing cinnamon aroma of Briel’s fury told him that his woman was a fighter. His heart rate doubled as a sudden surge of adrenaline shot through him. He schooled his features even as his palms began to sweat and his knee ached to bounce in a tick of self-restraint. Briel was lucky Fena was on her lap, because it was the only thing keeping him from tackling her onto the seat and ravaging her. He licked his lips remembering his almost-kiss. He’d only gotten the briefest taste of her, and damn if she hadn’t been addicting.

  My Angel.

  He couldn’t stop staring. She was so damn beautiful. Her hair looked like satin honey. Not the kind of honey you saw on the TV commercials about cereal, but the real kind of honey, the dark amber stuff that true Montanans knew. Oddly, her eyes matched her hair perfectly He’d never met a person whose eye
s matched their hair the way hers did. She was exquisite. Her skin was pale and so soft–looking. Her complexion flawless, and that mouth... His eyes dipped to it time and time again. There was a pixie-like upturn at the corners that made her look like she was grinning even when she clearly wasn’t pleased, like right now.

  He watched her shoot him a glare as she curled her body more tightly around her sister. It made him remember the way she’d tried to lure him to follow her in an attempt to save Fena. Here actions told him a great deal about her character. Without even knowing she already made him proud and she wasn’t even his…yet.

  A mental nudge indicated that one of his team was trying to contact him. Begrudgingly, he permitted it.

  Through the mist, Conn asked, “Assume we’re heading to the airport?”

  “Yes. We’re going back to Apex. Call ahead and get the grounds secured.” It wasn’t a request he’d ever made before, because he hadn’t cared one way or the other if Apex was secure or not. He and his Walkers welcomed any threat, any challenges. Looking at Briel and Fena now, he realized those days were over. His eyes dipped again to the bruises forming on Briel’s arms. “And Conn, if you ever touch my Angel again…”

  He severed the connection. He didn’t need to say more, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Commander Conn Drago was, without a doubt, his closest friend. Probably his only friend, but in the space of mere hours, Briel and Fena suddenly meant more to him. It was disconcerting. So was the possessiveness that had nearly blinded him back at the hotel when he’d seen Conn’s hands holding Briel too firmly. The memory drew an inadvertent angry sound from deep in his throat. He quickly throttled it, but not fast enough. He didn’t want to scare Briel and Fena any more than they were, but now that Briel had Fena in her arms, she found her bravery too. Anger snapped her brows down and she shot him a scathing look.