Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel)

by Brutger, Stacey

  “And he calls you? What the hell good will that do?” A harsh laugh grated on her nerves. “I bet you’re even in favor of the new paranormal unit joke the government is trying to enforce.”

  And just like that, any connection she felt to him was severed. “Maybe if you got rid of that big chip on your shoulder and paid attention to the world outside your pack, you’d know that something needs to be done before everything blows up in our faces.” She would not go back to the war.

  “It’s a last-ditch pity attempt to appease the breeds.”

  She grimaced when he used the slur humans flung at them. “So what. Who cares, if it actually works.” If Jackson wanted to play cop, he was more than welcome. But she would not allow him to jeopardize everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. If he thought to step in on her case, he’d quickly find out why she was so good at her job.

  Chapter Six

  “This isn’t working. One call and I know I can convince them to make an exception. There are a few days left of the auction.”

  Raven drew up short outside her room at Jackson’s comment. She was surprised to feel the pinch of betrayal even though she knew it would be the best decision for all of them. Especially since the scene at the park an hour ago.

  “I want to stay.” There was only a calmness in that voice. She didn’t understand it.

  “She won’t be able to keep you. She’s not registered. If the council demands proof of her suitability, she won’t be able to pass the tests.” The soft tone revealed a compassion for the boy she’d never expected.

  He cared. It created a picture of a man determined to protect. She couldn’t fault him that despite his low opinion of her, but his comment prodded her curiosity. Tests? What tests? She crept closer.

  “You’re wrong.” Taggert seemed equally convinced.

  She took the last two steps and entered the doorway. Taggert stood in front of her dresser, touching the few possessions that she left out, but otherwise avoiding Jackson. His submissive nature made her feel very protective. An illusion. Both men had their backs to her. In comparing them, she was shocked to realize Taggert wasn’t much smaller in stature than Jackson.

  As if sensing her regard, Taggert lifted his head and their eyes met in the mirror. He instantly dropped his hand, but didn’t release her gaze. She could detect nothing in his expression that indicated any type of emotion.

  “You said I was allowed to choose any room.”

  His empty bag rested near the bay window. When she looked back at him, he’d turned to face her. She’d bet her life he knew this was her room. Not that she used it often, as sleep was a rarity for her, but what little possessions she’d accumulated were here.

  Then she saw the slight flexing of his fingers. Somehow he knew and still chose it. She didn’t believe it was to pick a fight, but she had to know why.

  “Yet you selected mine.” She stepped closer to them, unwilling to back down without him giving her something. Everything about him was so controlled she doubted he even knew how to be spontaneous. Maybe if she pushed and broke through his shell, he’d drop the act.

  Taggert’s eyes flickered and little crow marks appeared at the corners. Then his expression cleared, leaving her with a pleasant man with no personality. “I’ll move if it displeases you.”

  Jackson stepped between them, blocking her view. “Pack members usually bunk together as a rule.”

  “A rule?” She studied his face closely, but couldn’t see or smell a lie on him. The thought of sleeping with two attractive men within touching distance, alone, did weird things to her body.

  She wished she could say it was fear, but she knew that for a lie.

  Normally dormant, she was surprised when the beasts around her core crept closer to the surface. Though she’d never been able to tell the animals apart, they were becoming bolder since Taggert and Jackson moved into the house. She shivered at the thought and what it could mean.

  “Yes.” Jackson kept changing his mind about her as it suited him, and it irritated the snot out of her. “Am I pack now?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “To be pack, the alpha has to petition the council or take a pledge of blood. For Taggert, there’s no reversing that but death. Are you ready for that step?”

  His blunt comment took her aback.

  “She doesn’t have to decide yet.”

  Raven peered around Jackson’s shoulder at Taggert, admiring the way he stood up to Jackson. She had to wonder if it was fear of her turning him away that prompted him to speak or if he was defending her.

  “I don’t spend much time in this room. If I sleep at all, it’s usually on a cot in the basement between work. I’m not sure–”

  “I promise not to get in your way.” His earnest answer hurt.

  Her heart thudded in her chest, a heavy, pounding rhythm. Could she do it? Her control wavered when she slept. Dreams haunted her sleep, dreams of the dead, ghosts asking for help. What if she hurt him? She bit her lip, contemplating the ramifications.

  “He’s not use to sleeping alone,” Jackson prodded her. “Touch for a shifter is an important part of building trust. Denying him is also considered a punishment.”

  It irritated her that he kept stepping between them, almost like he was afraid to have her focus on Taggert.

  Or he was jealous, which was preposterous.

  She felt herself weakening. What he said matched too closely to what she’d learned in the labs for him to be pulling one over on her. A little spurt of fear at even contemplating such an action couldn’t keep that damn curiosity at bay. “No funny business?”

  They both solemnly shook their heads.

  “And you? Are you fine to sleep alone?” The only reaction was a flinch around his eyes.

  “I will be within calling distance.”

  His answer gave her pause. Though she didn’t want him in her bed, she liked it even less knowing he’d be watching, listening, and free to wander.

  And a tiny part of her wanted him there with her. His presence irritated the hell out of her, but she could relate to him.

  “I’ll bring in a cot or a couch.” He bristled, and Raven raised a brow. “You said it yourself, you’re here to protect him. I doubt he’d raise any alarm if I tried anything.”

  Safety in numbers. Neither would try anything with the other in the room and maybe she could work on her control. If anything happened, Jackson would protect Taggert.

  Taggert smiled slightly, his bland persona once more firmly in place. She couldn’t help narrow her eyes a little. There was something beneath the surface, something she couldn’t put her finger on that plagued her.

  Then it hit her. It was the way he watched her, picked up small clues about herself that she’d tried so hard to eradicate. It left her feeling very exposed.

  “Fine.” Jackson bit off the one-word answer, and she wondered if he agreed just to distract her from her line of thought. Then a muscle ticked in his jaw, and his adam’s apple bobbed. The big fraud was as nervous about sharing a room as her.

  The second she opened her mouth, the fire alarm blared. Raven closed her eyes and sighed. “Gentlemen, dinner is ready.” The comical looks of dismay on their faces had her smiling. Shifters loved their food, burning through calories at an amazing rate. This was going to be an unforgettable stay for them.

  Both men followed her down the stairs. Though she couldn’t hear them, she could sense them crowding close to her back. Even before they reached the kitchen, the smell of caramelized, burnt food clogged the air.

  The odor grew worse when they opened the door. Everyone was seated, waiting for them. Raven swallowed hard at all the food. Jackson sat, but Raven couldn’t make herself move. Taggert remained glued close to her side, his distress barely contained.

  “Dina, I hope you don’t mind, but Taggert wanted to show me some home-style recipes.” Taggert instantly nodded, his eyes fixated on the scorched food in wide-eyed horror.

  “Another cook in the house?
I don’t mind at all. Maybe later we can trade recipes.” She gave a sunny smile and continued to pile everyone’s plate. Taggert instantly went to the fridge and started taking out supplies. Raven grabbed an apple and shoved it in her mouth.

  Jackson’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t refute the lie. After one bite, his chewing slowed and his throat bobbed painfully as he swallowed, gazing at her to get him out of there.

  The malicious side of her said to leave him, while the compassionate side of her argued to rescue him. When she remained silent, his eyes narrowed. She’d no doubt pay for her rebellion later, but a little vengeance felt good.

  A tiny smile played about Dominic’s mouth as he watched the interaction. “While we eat, let’s catch you up on the case we’re running down.”

  Raven hesitated, surprised at the laid-back comment from Mr. Super-Secret. “Now?”

  He spared the two men a brief glance and shrugged. “From the way I understand it, they’re yours for the next month. If anything leaks, we’ll know the source.”

  “If she would’ve come to the meeting, we wouldn’t have to re-hash everything.” Trish took a sip of the ever-present wine at her side. The food on her plate remained untouched.

  “She had other things to attend.” Dominic kept his tone firm but even.

  Trish stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly in the room. She slapped the table with enough force that everything clattered. Jackson stopped moving, the predator in him rising to the surface. One wrong step and he’d be at her throat. Taggert didn’t react at all to the violence as he continued to make food, which surprised Raven the most. He trusted her to protect him.

  “Why does she deserve special treatment all the time? You always come after one of us if we’re late or don’t show. Even in the compound, they treated her better than us. Why?”

  Heart pounding, Raven slowly faced Trish and her accusation. “I was treated no differently.”

  “I didn’t hear the guards enter your cell, then brag about their conquest. How many times a day did they visit you?” Fury rolled through her, her voice rising.

  “None.” They did something much worse.

  Trish snarled, shoving away from the table and stalked forward. “They made me their whore, while you, their little princess, were safely tucked away from it all.”

  Dominic stood and carefully placed his napkin on the table in a very exact manner as he battled his temper. “Trish, you will want to sit down and shut up.”

  She whirled on him. “Even now, he protects you. You’re everyone’s little darling. My God,” she struck her arms out and turned slowly, “doesn’t anyone else see this?”

  Bitterness and hatred poured through the room. Years of festering had taken its toll.

  Dominic opened his mouth to speak, but Raven forestalled him. “Tell me Trish, how many times did they take you to the labs for tests?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You think a few tests equaled what we went through?”

  Raven ignored her. “How many times did they torture you?” When Trish opened her mouth to speak, Raven stepped closer. Energy curled around her feet, lashing upward around her legs like roots, sinking deep into her bones.

  “Each time they raped me instead of you.”

  Raven closed her eyes. “You want to know why they didn’t breed me?”

  “Oh, this should be good.” Trish crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  “I’d been a prisoner at the compound for nearly twenty years.” The confession startled Trish, but didn’t ease her anger one bit. “They played the same games with me a few years after I was admitted. As soon as they deemed me old enough to breed.” Memories long buried rose to the surface. A little spark at her core wrapped around her in response as if to protect her. But with it came the delicious urge to lash out at the cause of the pain and make everything go away. She took a shallow breath, fighting the need.

  Trish flinched, and Raven didn’t need a mirror to know her eyes had changed from pewter to a vivid blue. It happened whenever the current rode her hard. “They stopped the games the same day I fought back and killed everyone who came near me.”

  Trisha blanched. She leaned forward, balled her hands into fists and planted them on the table. “And do you think I just let them do what they wanted without fighting?” She whirled and left without another word.

  The room remained a frozen tableau. She hadn’t suspected the group treated her any different, but she knew that for a lie. She was an outsider, even with the people closest to her.

  Afraid to look at anyone for fear they’d see the hurt, Raven gazed out the window. She suspected that many of them knew about her past. She’d made her peace with it. Until she dredged it all back to life.

  She should’ve left well enough alone instead of playing one-upmanship with Trish.

  “Raven–”

  “No,” she cut Dominic off. He had nothing to say that she hadn’t already said to herself a thousand times. And she sure as hell didn’t need anyone’s sympathies. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I knew she hated me, I just didn’t know why. That’s no excuse for the way I acted.” Energy spiked, pulling from the room and wallowing in her body, building with the pain.

  “You have the right to defend yourself.” London’s gruff voice only made it worse.

  She needed to leave before she did anything else she’d regret. “We’ll discuss the meeting later. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Raven left by the back door and quickly lost herself in the woods, aware of the faint outline of blue that swarmed over the skin of her hands, extending up past her wrists now. It was getting worse. The blue lines darker, more pronounced.

  Her greatest fear was losing control, and each day her control weakened more, no matter how she tried to stop it. She couldn’t live with herself if she hurt someone she cared for.

  Not again.

  Chapter Seven

  SUNSET

  “How many shifters are missing?” Raven directed her question at Dominic, not lifting her gaze from her computer as she methodically entered data into the system. Thankfully, no one mentioned her blow-up earlier that afternoon, and she wanted to keep it that way. She shoved the last of her sandwich in her mouth and waited for his answer.

  “Seventeen.”

  The number snapped her out of her funk. Her hands hesitated over the keys, and her gaze shot to his. “And we’re only now learning about it?”

  “There have been no police reports, no calls from concerned relatives. Nothing to hint at foul play.” Frustration rippled through his voice in a rumbled growl.

  “Then how do you know there’s anything wrong?” She wanted to shove back her chair and demand that Jackson and Taggert give her space to breathe. The study seemed to shrink in size. Their scents wrapped around her, tearing down the wall she was desperately trying to build between them.

  Instead, she suffered in silence, unwilling to admit even to herself how their nearness affected her, tempting her to relax her shields and be herself. That could never happen.

  “Instinct. Experience.” Dominic leaned over her desk, his face inches from her, his autumn scent helping to drag her attention back to business. She grabbed onto the excuse with both hands, discretely scooting the chair closer to the desk and away from all the men crowding around her. “It’s their MO.”

  It meaning the scientists. She couldn’t dispute his claim, but not everything evil was spawned by the labs. “Do you have any proof?”

  He straightened, running his hand through his wavy hair in a rare show of emotion. “Nothing yet.”

  He retreated across the room and propped himself against the window frame, his green eyes calculating as he studied her. The pose put her on edge. He was up to something. She braced herself, knowing she wouldn’t like it. “Speak.”

  “That’s why I want to pull you in for this one.”

  She was right. The thought of entering the labs again sent a flash of ice through her veins, rooting her to her chair when she
wanted to bolt.

  “This is unnecessary. The wolves would’ve been notified of any large scale disappearance and taken action.” Jackson bristled, the heat of his anger lapping at her back as he unobtrusively inched closer to her. She was half convinced his protest stemmed more from Dominic upsetting her than taking issue with the missing shifters.

  The confrontation and sudden tension forced her mind into action. Both wolves locked eyes and refused to back down. She took a deep, steadying breath and broke the stalemate by relenting on her rule to never get involved in the labs again.

  “Get me a list of names.” That’s the best she could do. She’d stopped hunting labs years ago, unable to bear witnessing the remnants of failed experiments and wade through all the pain that saturated the walls. Not if she wanted to remain sane. She’d delegated the hunt to Dominic and his crew, but there was one thing she could do. She could find these missing people.

  Jackson turned to her, thunder in his eyes. “If there was something happening in the community, everyone would know. You can’t hide that many missing shifters.”

  The insight into pack life snagged her attention, and she swiveled in her seat, pinning him with a look. Only to find his attention solely on her. There was just something sexy about a man when he focused on you so intently that no one else in the room existed for him. She swallowed hard, trying to gather her scattering thoughts. “You have a network.”

  He hesitated, and the moment shattered. Back came the imperial Ogre. “Each pack has an enforcer. They pass information along from one to another.”

  “And if one is corrupt?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Raven gave a half smile, enjoying baiting him. “What do you mean no? Are they incorruptible?”

  “We are when it comes to the safety of the community.” The answer was straight and honest. He truly believed it.

  She didn’t. Power can easily be bought regardless of the race. “Tell me, Jackson, if you had the choice to have your whole clan slaughtered or give up a few members, what would you chose?”