Veiled by Caris Roane Page A

would cause Merl a profound degree of distress.
    He was about to contact Luken, when Merl became fixed in Duncan’s mind not as an obstacle, but as something else, something more. He’d been so enraged by the Third ascender’s shitty attitude, he hadn’t stopped to consider the man who had once served as a Warrior of the Blood on Third.
    Questions rose to mind, mostly why Merl had lived his life as an exile on Second. He’d always bought Merl’s story that he’d pissed off a few powerful entities and had gotten cast out as a result. It wasn’t hard to believe; Merl could rub anyone the wrong way.
    But what if it was something else, something much more significant which had sent Merl to Second?
    As he reached for his cell, one more issue surfaced. If the team was going to have the smallest chance of battling on Third, they had to have a boost in power. Now.
    The team needed Warrior Jean-Pierre, the Frenchman who’d folded straight off the guillotine during the harshest part of the French Revolution. He was breh- bonded to Fiona and had gained a phenomenal ability to help others gain power. Before Duncan’s abduction, Jean-Pierre had been working with him to bring his visions forward.
    Right now, however, they’d need him round the clock until the team was brought up to speed.
    Duncan made his call to Luken, who in turn didn’t hesitate to contact Jeannie at Central Command to get the meeting set up. Luken felt confident Jean-Pierre would be willing to devote all his time to the black ops team. He was in high demand since Endelle had ordered him to bring as many Militia Warriors as possible into their emerging powers for the critical war effort on Second.
    With the plan in motion, Duncan crossed to the master bedroom and found Rachel drying her hair. She wore a turquoise silk robe that clung to her curves.
    “We’re a go,” he said. “Luken worked his magic.”
    Rachel shut off her hair dryer and began brushing out her hair. “Jeannie?”
    Duncan smiled. “Who else? She adores him.” Jeannie and Carla kept communication moving strong among all the warriors.
    “When do we leave?” Rachel pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured the cadroen, a dark brown leather clasp with a bone pin that all the Warriors of the Blood used.
    “We can leave whenever you’re ready. We’ll be heading to Jean-Pierre’s home in Sedona.”
    At that, she turned to him. “Really? I’ve never been there.” She shook her head. “Any particular reason?”
    “Jean-Pierre said he’s had recent success using the central room in his house. Not sure why. But I think you’ll like his home. It’s set in a grove of Arizona sycamores and he built the entire structure himself using hand tools.”
    She shifted her gaze away from him and nodded slowly, but he couldn’t mistake the sadness in her eyes.
    He understood. “I’m sorry about your home, Rachel.”
    She huffed a sigh, waved a hand, and switched out her robe for her black leather flight suit. The male warriors had adopted kilts a long time ago. But the female warriors preferred a flight suit with snug leather pants and a weapons harness. All battle harnesses had a strip of leather down the spine to allow for wing-mount.
    With her small waist and full hips, Rachel looked especially good in her suit. Sudden desire flowed and without thinking, he put his feet in motion, intending to haul her into his arms.
    By the time he reached her, however, she’d bent over at the waist and was wincing.
    “What’s the matter?”
    She flipped the side tabs on the harness. “I’m still chafing and it’s really bugging me. Can you help me adjust the harness? I’ve let it out twice now, but it’s still not right.”
    “Of course.” He stepped close and according to her instructions, loosened the side straps so that when the closing mechanisms were snapped shut, she’d have more room.
    It took a few minutes, but when he was done, she released a huge sigh. “Oh, thank God. That feels