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

by Naomi Martin

  The land around us is nothing but open fields and small stands of trees, the road a long, lonely stretch of black ribbon stretching in both directions. The night is dark, the sky cloudless, and the moon above us casts the world in a silvery, monochromatic light. If the intel is right—and it usually is—the convoy will be coming down that road in roughly twenty minutes. I watch as Randy and Mira, a pair of Water Elementals, soak a fifty-yard patch of the road, coating it in a slick, wet ice that glistens beneath the moonlight. I just hope it won’t be seen by the convoy’s drivers until it’s too late.

  I see the shifters gathering in a copse of trees near the road, ready to bound out of the dark and take out the first wave of soldiers to climb out of the trucks. The rest of our small crew are taking spots in the fields that line the road, finding whatever cover they can to conceal themselves until the shifters have cleared as much of the board as possible. They’ll lead the second wave of attacks.

  “You all right?” Elliot asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. Just really hoping this goes smoothly,” I say. “I really don’t want to lose anybody.”

  He nods. “Neither do I.”

  “Most of all, you,” Gray adds. “I think we need to stick close to the new boy. Make sure he’s not up to something.”

  “I agree,” Elliot adds. “I don’t like him.”

  I nod. “Gray, would you—”

  “On my way,” he says.

  Gray bounds off into the dark, heading for the trees that conceal the shifters. Elliot and Zane stand close, their quiet presence reassuring to me.

  “Do you need any of them captured alive?” Zane asks. “Do you need more… practice?”

  I shake my head. “No, I have the weave I need,” I say glumly. “I’ll be able to induce a heart attack in this Senator Cook without a problem.”

  “Getting to him might be a different story,” Zane says. “He will have bodyguards. If this is supposed to look natural, you can’t kill them, either.”

  “Yeah—a bunch of people all suffering heart attacks on the same night is going to look awfully suspicious,” Elliot chimes in.

  I sigh. “I’ll figure it out. That’s another problem for another day, though,” I say. “I want to focus on what’s on our plate right now.”

  “I think we should stick close to you tonight,” Elliot suggests. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  Zane nods his agreement, which surprises me. He’s normally nothing but pragmatic and doesn’t give in to strange feelings or bad omens. All the same, though, I’m glad they’re picking up on something because I have to agree… there is just something rotten in the air and I don’t know what it is. Something is niggling in the back of my head, some feeling of wrongness that I can’t quite place. And the longer it drags on, the stronger it seems to get.

  “Convoy inbound,” comes Coral’s voice through my earpiece. “Three minutes.”

  I key open my comm. “Get ready, everybody.”

  “What do you want me to do? Where do you want me?” Viv asks, her body tense, her face a mask of anxiety.

  The truth is, I don’t know where I want her. I admire her spirit and desire to fight, but I have serious doubts about her ability to actually… do it. But still, I don’t want to discourage her, either. If she wants to fight, I can’t deny her the chance.

  “Go to the rest of the shifters,” I tell her. “And stay close to Gray. He’s the big guy—”

  She grins. “I know who he is.”

  “Okay, good. Then stay close to him,” I say.

  She darts off into the darkness and I turn, looking across the road to see Randy and Mira layering on a second patch of ice before melting back into the shadows. Everything is ready. Now we’ll see how well our plans stand up when the action starts. What’s that old saying? Man plans, the gods laugh, or something like that?

  Zane, Elliot, and I stand near the vans and it’s not long before we hear the low, throaty rumble of the trucks. I see the faint glow of their headlights, and when they round a bend in the road, they’re almost blinding. My body tenses and the knot in my belly pulls tight as they approach the section of iced-over road. I grit my teeth, waiting, hoping this goes off.

  The lead truck is moving fast, the throttle opened wide on this long, lonely stretch of road. And as I watch, I see the truck start to slide, almost seeming to glide along the asphalt. A wide smile stretches across my face as the truck loses control, sliding around so it’s almost facing backward, but a moment later, it jackknifes, then starts to roll with a high-pitched squeal of twisted and tortured metal. It hits the ground with a thunderous crash, rolling over and over again.

  The vehicles behind it swerve wildly. A few of them manage to cut into the open fields, a few of them manage to stop, and a few more hit the ice and go spinning out of control. As the men in the stopped vehicles get out to go help the others in their convoy, the shifters burst from the trees, loud and deep growling reverberating through the air.

  The crackle of gunfire splits the night as the soldiers form a skirmish line, firing into the oncoming pack of wild beasts. Gray is out in front—because, of course, he is—and there is a large, black wolf almost as big loping alongside him. Lucas. He’s going to try to keep up with Gray. He’s going to try to prove himself.

  The chatter of gunfire is loud and echoes across the landscape. That’s quickly followed by the sound of soldiers screaming in agony and fear as the wall of beasts slams into them. I hear their snarls and roars, can practically hear the sound of rending flesh from where we are. And then the world lights up in an explosion of color as the Elementals step forth and start throwing weaves into the soldiers who are left standing.

  From the corner of my eye, I see a group of soldiers emerge from behind one of the trucks and take aim at the Elementals. I scream at the top of my lungs and break from cover, charging straight at them. As I run, a channel my power and form a fireball in my hand. I launch it into the crowd of soldiers. They see it coming, though, and quickly scatter. A couple of them flop onto the ground, trying to put out the flames on their uniforms, but they’re all unhurt.

  The soldiers quickly regroup and swing around. Suddenly, there are a dozen gun barrels trained on me. And then Zane is among them, grabbing the soldier on the end of the line. He gives the man’s head a quick and vicious twist and even from where I am, I can hear the bones snapping.

  A fireball streaks in from my left and catches one of the soldiers, who had turned to focus on Zane, flush on the side of the head. The man grabs hold of his head and drops his weapon, screaming as he’s engulfed in flames. He staggers away, trying to beat the fire off himself.

  I channel a flow of Spirit and send it out, splitting it into four different weaves as it lances toward the soldiers. They pierce the men closest to me, each of them dropping their weapons as they clutch at their chests. I wrap their hearts in a thick fist of it and pump more energy into the weaves as I squeeze them tight. With a wet, meaty sound, the soldiers—like those unfortunate rats—simply pop. Crimson viscera bursts from their backs and chests, and they crumple to the ground, thick pools of dark, viscous blood spilling out around them.

  Elliot runs past me, throwing thick ropes of fire at the soldiers still standing as Zane calmly spins and moves among them, a deadly yet graceful dance of death, one man after another falling to the ground, holes punched through their chests, necks bent at unnatural angles and corpses entirely drained of blood. He is a blur of motion and I can’t help but stop to watch him.

  I’m dimly aware of the chattering of gunfire around me dwindling. The battle seems to be winding down. I turn to see Gray, in his bear form, rise up on his hind legs and lash out with a mighty paw. It tears the head completely off the soldier in front of him. Gray lets out a roar of triumph so loud and long, it feels like it shakes the ground beneath my feet.

  It’s a gruesome sight and I turn away. Zane and Elliot have finished obliterating the squad of men we’d faced down and I look at some of the b
odies that lay smoldering on the ground, the smell of burning meat filling the air. My eyes flicker over the four men I killed and feel my stomach roil.

  I’m surrounded by death and blood. It’s grim and it’s depressing. But I remind myself once more that this is the world we live in. We didn’t ask for this fight; it was brought to us by people who see us as less than human, as things to be killed at will. By people who see us as nothing more than monsters.

  With a sigh, I start walking toward Zane and Elliot. We need to see if there’s anything salvageable in the trucks, and then I want to get the hell out of here. I want nothing more than a hot shower, then to crawl into bed and sleep off these gross feelings inside of me.

  I feel an itch between my shoulder blades as I walk, and something in my mind screams at me to move. I somehow feel it coming and spin to the side, but I’m not quick enough. Something hard and heavy slams into me from behind. An unintelligible shriek erupts from my throat as I feel something sharp raking down my back, leaving furrows of agonized fire.

  I fall to the ground, writhing in sheer agony, and feel a thick, liquid warmth spilling down my body and know it’s my blood. I turn my head to see the panther staring at me, black and sleek, its green eyes glowing as if with an inner light. It’s low to the ground, crouched and ready to strike.

  I feel my heart stutter in my chest and a white-hot spike of fear lances through my body. When I move, the pain is so intense, I scream in agony. The panther growls low, its eyes fixed on me. I watch as its muscles tense and flex, and I know it’s going to pounce. From my prone position, I start to channel a flow of fire, but before I can, something large and black slams into the panther from the side.

  The two dark forms clash and wrestle, a cacophony of snarls and growls erupting from them. I watch as the wolf—as Lucas—buries his fangs into the back of Viv’s neck. The panther screams and writhes in his grasp. She manages to twist herself around enough that she’s able to rake his chest with her claws. Letting out a sudden yelp, Lucas loosens his grip on her and she’s able to wriggle free before he can break her neck. Seeing the rest of our team closing in, Viv bounds off, speeding through the darkness and disappearing among the trees.

  I’m suddenly surrounded by the rest of the team, concern on all of their features. I look over at Lucas, who’s shifted back into his human form. He’s got four long scratch marks across his chest, blood spilling down the front of him. He looks at me and I can see his concern for me in his eyes, which is… surprising.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  He looks down at his chest, as if only just now realizing he’s injured. He nods, though.

  “I’m fine,” he says. “I’ll heal.”

  “You won’t heal like wolf-boy there, Raven,” Coral says. “We need to tend to your wounds.”

  Gray strides over to us, his face a mask of worry and rage. He looks from me over to Lucas, his glare hardening and hate filling his features.

  “He saved my life, Gray,” I tell him. “He stopped Viv from gutting me.”

  Slowly, he seems to relax. Slightly. His features are still hard, but he’s no longer glaring at Lucas like he wants to tear his head off his shoulders. And then Elliot’s there, dropping to his knees beside me, his face lined with fear. Zane stands behind him, looking down at me, and I can see the worry in his eyes. I groan as I shift my position, the pain radiating through every cell in my body. But I grit my teeth and bear it as best as I can.

  “I’m all right,” I tell them. “Superficial cuts. That’s all. She didn’t hit anything serious.”

  Hopefully.

  “I’m going to want to take a look at those cuts, anyway,” Coral, who also serves as our field medic, says.

  “We need to go after her,” Gray says.

  I shake my head. “No. We need to check the trucks and get back home,” I tell him. “We accomplished our task.”

  Gray gets that stubborn set to his jaw I’m familiar with, and I know he’s going to dig his heels in.

  “We need to bring her back here. She’s obviously working for the other side,” he argues. “We need to find out what she knows.”

  “I agree with him,” Elliot says.

  “I do as well,” Zane chimes in.

  “Et tu, Brute?” I croak.

  “I’m afraid so,” Elliot replies. “For once, Gray is right.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Lucas offers. “We can find her.”

  Gray looks pensive for a moment, then nods. And that’s it. It’s settled. They’re going, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Gray and Lucas huddle with Zane and Elliot for a moment. Then, I feel myself being picked up on a flow of air and moved toward the vans. Some our group splinter off and start ransacking the trucks, taking everything we can use.

  I turn my head to see Gray and Lucas plunging into the darkness together. Fear ripples through me and I have the insane thought that it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. And after that, I have an even more insane thought: he didn’t even say goodbye or give me a kiss.

  A spike of pain pierces me and then I’m being moved into the van, gently laid down on one of the padded seats. Elliot and Zane are there beside me in an instant, but the concerned looks on their faces are not making me feel any better about things. My worry about me, though, pales in comparison to my worry about Gray. That he’s out there somewhere, in the dark, with somebody whose intentions we don’t know yet, scares the hell out of me for him.

  As if reading my thoughts, Elliot grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. He looks at me reassuringly. Or, at least, as reassuringly as he can. And although Zane seems as indifferent as always, I know him well enough that I can see the emotion in his eyes. The furrows in my back might hurt like hell, and I definitely need to be patched up, but I know they’re not fatal.

  “Gray is going to be all right,” Zane says, reading me as well as I can read him. “He’ll be back.”

  “And he’s going to bring that traitorous bitch back,” Elliot growls.

  “I hope you’re right,” I murmur.

  “Okay, we’re on the road,” Coral calls. “You okay back there, Raven?”

  “I’m good.”

  “We’re leaving a van back here for Gray,” she says. “He’ll be along directly. Right now, we just need to focus on getting you back home and getting those cuts tended to.”

  I nod as she starts the van. The one thing I haven’t thought about through all of this, which hits me now like a ton of bricks, is the fact that Viv betrayed me. Tried to kill me. The meek, soft-spoken girl had played me. Played us. I feel absolutely stupid for being so convinced it was Lucas that I never saw the real danger coming until it was too late.

  I should have, though. Something that should have occurred to me before she attacked is finally settling in, and I can’t possibly feel like a bigger moron. When I was talking to her about her bracelet, she’d mentioned that her mother had given it to her before kicking her out. But that wasn’t her story. That story belonged to the other girl. When we first took Viv in, she’d said that her parents had been killed, not that she’d been rejected by her family. She’d fucked up her cover story, and I was too dim to pick it up.

  I should have remembered. But I didn’t. Now, the real question in my mind is whether Viv is one of those who simply don’t agree with what we’re doing and would rather not have this attention drawn to us, or whether she’s an active member of Villa’s team sent here for the sole purpose of killing me.

  But as much as I’d like the answer to that question, it’s not worth Gray risking his life over. I just want him here with us where he belongs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Villa

  “You had one task,” I growl. “One fucking task. And you couldn’t manage to find a way to get it done.”

  “I mean no disrespect, but how do you know she’s still alive?”

  “Because my eyes inside the Breakers told me so,” I spit.

  She pauses for a moment, looking down at
the ground. It hadn’t occurred to her that I’ve got other sources, other people who report to me. She’s finally realizing she’s not as special—nor as valuable—as she thought herself to be. I can see it fully sinking into her.

  “I’m sorry,” she says meekly. “I tried. I truly did. But there—”

  “I’m not interested in your excuses,” I cut her off. “You were tasked with taking out Raven McCabe. You failed. That is all that matters.”

  “It is not as easy as you—”

  “Again. I’m not interested in your excuses.”

  She kneels on the floor before me, her head bowed, spinning the bracelet around her wrist. The bracelet is a smaller, modified version of the collar Jenni developed for our prisoners. After the collar’s successes in the arena, Jenni was able to essentially miniaturize it, implanting a set of commands into the bracelet.

  But while the practical nature of the bracelet worked without a hitch, it is human failure that blew the mission. Viv couldn’t get the job done because she’s weak. She lacked the conviction and the will she needed to exert to complete her task.

  “Give me another chance, Colonel,” she pleads. “I can finish this.”

  “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?” I sneer. “Your cover is blown. How do you imagine being able to get close to her?”

  “I-I don’t know yet,” she says. “But I can figure it out. I promise you.”

  “You had your chance. You failed.”

  I turn to the two guards standing by the door and give them a nod. They step forward and I see the panic in the girl’s wide eyes. As she stands, I can see her start to shift, but the guards are faster and clamp a collar around her neck. She tries to shift anyway and the pop from the collar is loud. She’s thrown backwards, rolling into a cabinet on the far side of the room. She hangs limply in their arms as the guards haul her up, then they both look at me questioningly.

  “Feed her to the wolves,” I say. “They deserve a little fresh meat.”