Raven's Revenge: Paranormal Prison Romance (Paranormal Prison Series Book 2)

by Naomi Martin

  Except for the link we forged together during the Joining.

  The Joining was a ceremony that bound us all together. I still don’t understand everything Zane tried to explain to us about it. To me, all the Joining did was expand my abilities and tied us together so that I can tell where they are at any time. I can sense them, just as they can sense me. But other than that, it seems like the Joining provided me all the big-ticket benefits.

  “So, they rebuilt the Pit, did they?” I ask.

  She nods. “Lockdown twenty-four hours a day—except when they’re running experiments on us. There was no time in the sun, and we weren’t allowed to even talk to the other prisoners,” she says. “It was horrible. I imagine it wouldn’t be too hard to go insane in a place like that. If you live long enough to go crazy, anyway.”

  A shudder passes through me. I remember all too well the experiments they run on supernaturals in the Pit. We killed Drs. Keene and Fry, but I’m not surprised they brought in new ones to replace them and continue their evil practices. The mere thought of it enrages me.

  “Who’s in charge there now?” I ask.

  “Some military guy. Villa, or something like that.”

  For the second time in five minutes, I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. For so long, I’ve wondered where he is and how I’d ever find him. To know that he’s at the Pit… that changes everything for me.

  “Wait, Villa is at the Pit?” I ask

  She nods. “Yeah, as far as I know, that’s like, where he lives or something,” she says. “He’s there twenty-four seven.”

  The flutter that passes through me isn’t one of worry—it’s excitement. Now that I know where he is, I can get to him. I can avenge my parents. My friend Sean, who he murdered in the streets to get to me. And I can avenge countless thousands of others who have suffered or been killed at his hands.

  “Okay, long enough,” Kayla says, her voice cutting into my thoughts. “On your feet. Time to go again.”

  With this new information, I feel like I need to get to South Dakota. I need to get to the Pit. I can’t help but think if I take out Villa, this war is over. I give my head a shake. All of my thoughts are crashing together, creating a jumbled mess in my head, and I can’t seem to sort them out in any coherent fashion. I know I have responsibilities; I feel them keenly every single day. But still, killing him and avenging my parents and my friends… it might be the best feeling in the world. Or, at least, the best feeling I’ve had since the night he and his goons kicked in my family’s door.

  “You with me?” Kayla snaps.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  Clearing my throat, I get to my feet and try to clear my mind. This news is obviously big and has major ramifications for me. But I know I need to approach it with a clear head and from an unemotional, detached perspective, if I can manage it. Right now, though, I need to finish my lesson. No matter what comes after this, I need to learn to control my abilities better.

  I need to be the razor, not the hammer.

  “Okay, now focus like I showed you,” Kayla says. “Control the weaves.”

  I look at the barrel that stands five feet in front of me and, once again, have to control my laughter.

  “Focus,” she snaps.

  On the barrel stands that old game, Operation. The exercise she’s putting me through has me channeling a weave and slipping it into one of the holes on the board, then pulling out the game piece. It’s delicate, intricate work and, surprisingly, I’ve found that if I touch the sides with a weave, it goes off just like I touched it with the metallic tweezers the game uses.

  I know the lesson is invaluable, but seeing the grinning, naked cartoon character on the game board staring back at me, I can’t help but feel silly. I yelp when I feel a sharp slap on my ass. I turn to Kayla to see grinning from ear to ear, calling up another weave to slap me with.

  “You’re not focusing,” she scolds.

  “I’m not going to be able to focus if you keep slapping my ass,” I mutter.

  “I won’t have to slap your ass if you focus.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say and grin.

  I blow out a breath and close my eyes, concentrating on the weave of Spirit I call forth. A round ball of white light forms, hovering over the palm of my hand. Guiding the light, I send out a thin tendril at the game board. I focus and, in my mind’s eye, I watch the thin weave slide into the hole where the heart is located. I feel a flush of triumph… and then the buzzer sounds.

  “Goddammit!” I scream as I release the flow.

  I turn and lash out, kicking at the stool I was sitting on and sending it skittering across the ground. It crashes into an old box with a loud crack as the wood gives way. My frustration boils over and I spot a bottle on the ground, and I kick that, too. It shatters with a high-pitched tinkle, shards of glass flying everywhere.

  Kayla arches an eyebrow at me as I stand there, my breath ragged, my face red with exertion—and the embarrassment of losing it like that.

  “Temper, temper.”

  As if my evening couldn’t get any worse. I turn to see Dora gliding into the building, a small smirk curling the corners of her perfect lips upward. Kayla immediately looks down at the ground and falls silent, obviously intimidated by the vampire and leader of our little band of freedom fighters.

  Dora’s eyes shift from me, to Kayla, then over to the Operation board on top of the barrel. Her smile grows a little wider, a little more leonine.

  “This is an interesting way to train,” she remarks, then glances over at Kayla. “Does it work?”

  Rather than wither beneath Dora’s gaze, I see her stand up a bit straighter. Defiantly, she lifts her chin a bit . I know her bravado is false, but I applaud the effort. Fake it ‘til you make it, baby.

  “It’s how I learned,” Kayla says. “I know it looks ridiculous, but it teaches precision and control.”

  “Show me,” Dora orders.

  Kayla looks over at me and I gape at the mischievous smirk I see painted upon her lips. It’s so unlike what I know of her so far. But something about the way she’s looking at Dora makes me see there’s more to her than meets the eye. She’s got facets I haven’t seen yet. And I can tell she’s got a bit of a devilish streak in her, after all. Good for her. I think she just needs a little more confidence.

  Kayla forms the ball of light in her hand and, before anybody can react, twin threads of Spirit arc out. The threads enter the sides of Dora’s head, just behind her eyes. Dora screams as if in agony and falls to her knees, her hands pressed hard to the sides of her head where Kayla directed the threads.

  “I can’t see!” Dora wails. “I cannot see! Stop it now, goddammit!”

  A wicked grin on her face, Kayla retracts the threads and releases her flow. Dora falls forward onto her hands, her breath coming in ragged bursts. She turns her head, a look of rage in her eyes. I know what’s coming next, and even though her vampire powers lend her an inhuman speed, I’m ready for her.

  And when she launches herself at Kayla, my weaves of Spirit are already in motion. I use my weaves to bind her arms and legs, stopping her motion completely. She snaps her head toward me, an inhuman snarl on her face, fangs bared. Kayla takes a stumbling step backward, a look of stark terror etched into her features.

  “Let go of me!” she hisses.

  “Not until you calm down,” I say. “Your vision has returned. And Kayla was simply giving you the demonstration you asked for. No harm, no foul.”

  In the grip of her vampire fury, Dora struggles against my bonds. It’ll do her no good, though, she can’t break them. Not even with her vampire strength. She thrashes wildly for a few moments longer and then wills herself to be calm. Finally, she turns to me.

  “Let me go,” she commands again.

  “Tell me you’re not going to touch Kayla,” I respond. “She was only doing what you asked.”

  “I will leave her be.”

  “Promise?”

  She si
ghs. “I promise.”

  “Pinky swear?” I say with a grin.

  Dora’s eyes harden as she stares at me. “Release me now or I will tear your arms and legs off your body and beat you with them.”

  I laugh. “That’s graphic.”

  I cut my weaves and Dora settles back down onto her feet. She straightens and smooths out her clothing, then runs her fingers through her hair and tosses her head, whipping her long locks back over her shoulders. When she has herself calm and put back together, Dora turns and looks at me, a small frown upon her plump lips.

  “So, it seems the theoretical has become concrete,” Dora says. “If this girl—”

  “Kayla,” I interrupt. “Her name is Kayla. She’s a good person and deserves a little respect.”

  Kayla gives me that fawning look of adoration again that makes me feel uncomfortable as hell. I suddenly wish I hadn’t said anything in her defense. But she doesn’t always seem willing to stand up for herself, and I think she needs to. She can’t let people push her around and, from what I’ve seen, she sometimes does. She also needs some friends and people who will look out for her. Dora might even be able to teach her a thing or two about being more assertive.

  Screwing with Dora like she did is one thing. But she also seems really eager to please others—too much. Being such a people-pleaser is going to lead to others taking advantage of her if she’s not careful. Kayla just needs to find the confidence to stand up for herself. I know it’ll earn her the respect of others, and they’ll come to like her—just as I am.

  Dora grits her teeth and puts a smile on her face that looks about as real as the expression on a mannequin. But she remains calm.

  “If Kayla can blind me with Spirit,” she says, “then you can learn to stop a heart.”

  “I see that now,” I admit. “I didn’t know if it was possible, but Kayla has shown me it is.”

  Dora walks around the building and her eyes fall upon the pile of exploded rats. She frowns, a look of disgust crossing her features, then she turns away to look at me with an arched eyebrow. I shrug.

  “I was trying to work it out on my own before going to Kayla,” I admit.

  “That’s gross,” she replies. “It’s also not going to work. We need this to look—”

  “I know. It has to look natural,” I cut her off. “Hence, me enlisting Kayla’s help with the finer points.”

  Dora nods. “I appreciate your ingenuity,” she chirps. “So, I assume this means you will be taking the assignment.”

  “Something’s come up,” I tell her. “I know where Villa is.”

  “Raven—”

  “You know I want to kill him,” I interrupt. “And if I do—if I cut the head off this snake, this war is over, Dora.”

  She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “And you really think Villa is the head of the snake?”

  “Yes,” I reply. “It’s his men we fight in the field. He leads this army against us. We take him out—”

  “And you accomplish nothing,” Dora cuts me off. “They are the military, Raven. You cut the head off the snake, another one grows in its place.”

  I open my mouth to reply but close it again, realizing she’s right. I’m so blinded by my need for vengeance, that my vision has become very short-sighted. I hate admitting that, but I know it’s true.

  “If you want to cut the head off the snake, you actually go after the head,” Dora continues. “Which means you take the mission I’m asking you to take. If our people can take control of that committee, we can end this war.”

  I kick at a small stone on the ground near me, then look over at Kayla. When I turn my eyes back to Dora, I see her staring at Kayla, as if noticing her for the first time. And I see the realization dawn in Dora’s eyes that Kayla is a Spirit Elemental—and all of the implications that carries.

  Which means, if I don’t do this, knowing Dora as I do, she’ll try to badger Kayla into doing it. And I think Kayla, as eager to please as she is, will be able to resist saying yes. Especially when Dora is really putting the squeeze on. And as strong as her ability is, I don’t think she’s strong enough mentally to actually assassinate somebody. She can’t even stand up to the girls who make snide remarks to her around here.

  Murdering somebody in cold blood is something entirely different. Hell, I’m even questioning my own ability to do it. It has nothing to do with how strong our powers are. It’s all about whether we have the stomach for it. And I know if I don’t find my stomach, Dora will send Kayla in my place and I don’t even want to think about the toll that will take on her. She’s not as battle-tested or hard as I am. I don’t need to be a psychoanalyst to see that.

  I grit my teeth and bite back my anger. Ever since I realized it’s the fact that Villa is walking around free and alive that’s had me in such a bleak mood, I’ve been better. My purpose has never been clearer to me, and now that I know where I can find him, I want to go. Now.

  I want to take him out.

  “Dora, if I hit this guy you want me to, I may lose my shot at Villa. If we blow this all up from the inside, he may just disappear,” I plead. “I vowed to kill him after he murdered my parents. My friends. He doesn’t deserve to draw breath.”

  “You’re right. He doesn’t. And I swear that he won’t get away, Raven. If you do this for us, we will use every resource we have to find him,” she presses. “You will have your vengeance. If I have to die trying, I swear you’ll have it.”

  The pressure bearing down on me is suffocating. I look over at Kayla, who seems utterly oblivious to the fact that she’ll be next up if I turn Dora down. And she doesn’t know the dangers inherent in what Dora’s asking. In a lot of ways, she’s naive. Innocent. It’s like she doesn’t seem to comprehend the danger we’re in, or that this is a war we’re fighting. And in that moment, I envy her that naivete.

  Dora’s eyes bore into me and although I expect her to try to Compel me, she surprisingly doesn’t. Not that it would have worked anyway; Zane’s shown me a few tricks to beating vampiric Compulsion. Still, I’m surprised she didn’t even try. It shows me that I am free to make this decision. That she respects me enough to give me the choice.

  It doesn’t make the decision any easier, though. I’m torn between my need to kill Villa and the desire to do right by our people. If what Dora is saying is true, that by killing this man, we can cut the head off the snake and neuter the committee tasked with eradicating us, I know I have a responsibility to do it. To prevent other supers like me from having their families and friends murdered. To keep our people safe from the hate and bigotry of others.

  It became my responsibility when I chose to join this fight.

  “Swear to me that when this is done, we go after Villa,” I insist. “No other side jobs, no other missions that need to be done right away. Villa is the next one. Period.”

  “You have my word, Raven,” she replies.

  “Fine,” I huff. “Let’s get this done, then.”

  Chapter Ten

  Villa

  “So, where are we on our project?” I ask.

  “I believe we’re there, sir,” Jenni replies.

  We’re standing at a long, rectangular table in her workshop above the arena floor. She picks up a collar and hands it over to me. I run the tips of my fingers along the symbols carved into the material, not understanding any of it. It’s like some strange, alien language or something.

  I hand the collar to Cook, who’s standing beside me, and he starts examining it closely. He’s been at the Pit for a week now. Apparently, his duties in Washington aren’t all that pressing. I’ll give him credit, though; he’s really diving into things around here and is gaining a working knowledge of all the operations. He’s been hands-on and seems interested in learning all he can.

  I like that about him. I like that he seems like he’s not going to be one of those paper-pushing bureaucrats who sit up in his ivory tower and lords his position over me. He seems like he wants to roll up his sleeve
s and be an actual part of this. I respect that. So long as he doesn’t try to circumvent my authority, anyway.

  “What is this?” Cook asks. “It looks different than the collars you put on the prisoners.”

  “It is,” I tell him. “This is a special project Jenni has been working on.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Let us show you,” I offer.

  Jenni leads the way to the door to the catwalk over the arena and all three of us step out onto it. Below us, the same shifter we’ve used in previous tests stands against the wall. This time, though, rather than looking like a zombie, he’s alert and normal. He looks like any other person. Jenni speaks a few quick words into her radio and, a moment later, the door on the opposite wall opens.

  Another man—an Elemental named Greg—is shoved into the arena and the door slides shut behind him. He looks around, terrified, and then his eyes land on the man leaning against the wall. Greg seems to relax a little when he sees the other man. They’re old acquaintances, both of them having been brought in together.

  “Alex,” he calls.

  Alex says nothing, but as we watch, the collar around his neck begins to pulse with that soft blue light as the symbols begin to glow. Cook looks down at the collar in his hand, then turns back in time to see Alex hurling himself at the Elemental, shifting into his wolf form as he does. Greg’s eyes widen and he lets out a scream of terror as he tries to summon his ability. I had Jenni alter the collar so it will prevent him from channeling his power, but won’t zap him if he tries.

  Greg’s scream is cut short as Alex falls on him. The creature snarls, a whirling mass of fur, claws, and teeth. Blood arcs high into the air and pools around the body. The wolf continues to slash and gash, tearing wet, meaty strips from the corpse beneath him. I turn to Cook, who is watching with an expression of morbid fascination etched into his face.