Enemy Mine (Mending The Veil) Read Online Free Page B

up gasping and coughing to exasperate the water from his burning lungs.
    He didn’t believe his eyes at first, but there on the bank she stood silently watching him. Clutched in her arms was his clothing, and he blinked back at her in disbelief. She was already dressed in the long skirt and peasant blouse. Her hair was still dark and wet, pulled back in a long braid that lay over her shoulder.
    “What the hell are you doing?” He demanded before he could think better of it.
    “I should have thought it was obvious, Mr. Holt. I’m going to wash your clothing. After all, you shouldn’t want to put them back on when you’re clean and they stink of sweat.” As she spoke, he watched her bend down at the edge of the water. An old washboard appeared in her hands as if she’d created it from thin air.
    “What the hell?” His hands clenched as he felt his entire body burned with the need to wring her beautiful neck. She was an abomination, a mistake of nature that must be eliminated. He fought his impulse and stood still in the water as her head rose, green eyes studied his face with an intensity that made him uneasy.
    “Don’t be embarrassed, we all sweat, Travis.” She grinned up at him. Her elfin face glowed enchantingly in the light of the moon. Travis couldn’t have been more surprised or alarmed by her teasing look as she began to scrub his shirt with soap. He could only watch her as she wrung the wet material and turned to drape it over the same bush as his towel.
    “You don’t have to do that.” Reluctant relief flooded him as he swam closer, watching as she picked up his briefs to place them over the washboard next.
    “You forgot the soap.” She reached over to pick it up and lobbed it at him. He caught it automatically.
    “Thank you.” His manners saved him, barely. He watched as she finally stood with his shorts in her hand. She collected his other clothing from the bush and turned back to him.
    “Take your time washing up. I’ll hang these on my clothes line. In this heat, it won’t take long for them to dry. Come up when you’re through.” She stopped to look back at him at the top of the hill. “Don’t wander from the path, Mr. Holt. I wouldn’t want you to get lost in these woods. They say magical beings come looking for souls and hearts to steal on Midsummer’s Night.” There was a mysterious twinkle in her glowing green eyes as she grinned and disappeared with his clothing.
    Travis swore sharply. He knew what Midsummer’s Night represented for the Witch. The summer solstice was not only the longest day of the year, but also one of the Witches’ quarter festivals, known by many names. Litha was the name recognized by the vast majority, as far as he knew. The secret rituals of their craft were well guarded, but many a Witch had succumbed to the extremely painful and effective inquisitions carried out by his order. Litha meant, “Moon” in the old tongue, according to most of the captives locked away at the Guardian’s main headquarters. A moonlight ritual involving fire and water, Litha was a festival of bonfires and dancing with the focus on new love and marriages. A notion that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable after her statements earlier about them acquiring the Goddess’ approval. What had he done, now?
    Sexual encounters with the enemy weren’t unheard of, but they weren’t allowed unless the Guardian was sanctioned to use physical persuasion to gain control over the target. He had his commander’s authorization, but never would he have expected to use it. Rather than find himself balls deep in the enemy, he would have preferred facing an old hag with sharp teeth and a taste of his blood.
    Dealing swiftly with one such as this was a constant battle of wits. Her teasing charm was a contradiction to everything he was taught about her kind. Witches didn’t have a sense of humor, or feelings for that matter. They existed to only plague mankind with spells and potions meant