Through the Veil Read Online Free PDF Page B

belly cuddling up against his cock.
    He could smell her. She smelled so sweet, so warm and alive. The scent of her body took him away from everything—for just the briefest moment, he could imagine himself reaching for Lee, holding her body against his. Feeling the warmth of the sun on his flesh, feeling her silken soft body moving against his own.
    A few seconds of peace—the rebellion faded away. The stink of his decaying, dying world, for a moment, was replaced by the warmth of a woman. Then, it was over. Lee stepped away and seemed totally oblivious to the effect she had on him.
    She turned to face the destruction and death that lay before them. Kalen watched as she shoved a shaking hand through her hair. Lee always hated being stared at. She slid him a nervous look and then jerked her gaze away. He sighed and turned away, forcing himself to walk into the splattered circle of blood.
    Akira was dead. She had been a twenty-one-year-old medic that Kalen had known since she was a kid. A tic throbbed in his jaw as he studied the gore that had been made out of her once pretty face. Her eye was missing, half her cheek, and bone gleamed in the moonlight. Blood shone wetly, her throat a raw, open wound.
    He closed his eyes and rested a hand on the smooth, unmarked skin of her brow. “Blessings on your path, little sister,” he murmured, the traditional farewell to a dead or dying friend coming harshly.
    At least she had died quick. And most likely first.
    Akira had been an anomaly, a true healer also blessed with telekinesis. Psychic skills weren’t common among those who went into the healing arts. The only talent common among them was the ability to heal using magick. All Akira had ever wanted to do was help people, and because of that, she was dead.
    If she hadn’t died fast, and first, she could have called for help. Akira’s ability to heal had been invaluable, her other abilities even more so—with her around, her unit hadn’t needed a designated telepath. The soldiers that moved with the med-unit were some of his best, but none of them had any kind of telekinetic skills. He’d counted on Akira being enough. Now she was dead and he’d have to live with that. With a hand that shook, he reached out and gently closed Akira’s one remaining eye.
    She was already cold. Damn it, she had just been fine . . . a few hours ago.
    Rage boiled inside his heart as he straightened up, turning his head, counting every last body. His voice was a rasping snarl as he demanded, “Are there any survivors?”
    Silence fell as his men fanned out and searched for any sign of life. Kalen knelt in blood, gore and other things that he didn’t want to think about as he checked the still bodies for a pulse, for breathing—any sign that someone had survived. There was nothing. He found himself standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at the unidentifiable remains of the Jorniak demons.
    “Kalen.”
    He lifted his head and stared at Dais. The old man’s lined face was weary and his eyes glittered with rage. “There are none left alive,” Dais said, his voice oddly gentle, as though that made the news any easier to hear. But Kalen already knew. Rage pounded inside him as he slowly turned around and stared at the devastation before him.
    The entire med-unit was gone, along with every patient that had been in the small roaming clinic. He counted twelve patients. One or two of them seemed familiar, but beyond that, he knew none of them. But the med-unit staff, he’d known all of them. Five friends dead. Blood roared in his ears, while reality seemed to freeze in front of him.
    “Leave,” Kalen whispered.
    “Son?”
    Kalen lifted his head and stared at Dais, his eyes burning. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he repeated it, “Leave. All of you. Take the men back to camp.”
    “But the dead . . .”
    Kalen laughed bitterly. “The dead will still be dead in an hour, Dais. Get the hell out of here. Now.” Kalen didn’t bother to watch