Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel)

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Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel) Page 15

by Brutger, Stacey


  Ross straightened when she drew near. “Here.” He held out a pair of gloves. She snapped them on and coughed at the plume of powder that gusted back in her face. The burn of chemicals filled her nose, and she resisted the urge to sneeze. She recognized Ross’s special blend of chemicals to stop the decomp smell and blanched. Nausea dropped her gut to between her ankles.

  She gave a stilted nod, and he lifted the plastic sheet. The corpse was relatively whole. Relative being the choice word. Gnaw marks dotted his body, while sections of the legs had chunks of flesh ripped from them.

  One fact riveted her.

  The cadaver was pinkish.

  Still fresh. They’d killed him about the same time she was running around in the forest.

  She swallowed hard at the black, gaping hole in his torso. They’d gutted him. The line on the stomach was clean. Her brows furrowed. Too precise. No animal, either shifter or wild, could have done that with claws. “Knife?”

  Ross nodded. “One clean slice. No hesitation marks.”

  Raven paused, but she needed to know. “Dead or alive?”

  “He was sliced open while alive.”

  Scotts crouched at her side. “I recognize that expression on your face. What?”

  Raven looked to the stream, then back at Scotts. “All the bodies we found were in fresh water at least four feet from the surface.”

  “Yes.”

  “Someone killed them, but the bodies were left in the water on purpose.” She turned away from his baffled gaze, knelt by the stream and trailed her hand across the surface of the shockingly cold water. “What do you notice about this water?”

  “It’s ass cold from the mountains.”

  “Right.”

  Things clicked, and Scotts swore. “They’re keeping the bodies refrigerated, storing them. What the hell can do this, Raven?”

  She bit her lip, debating the wisdom of sharing her knowledge. This case was entwined with hers. The last thing she wanted was him involved.

  “Scotts–”

  “Don’t give me this paranormal bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

  She hesitated, but had no choice to put her client’s confidentiality first. “I’ll share what I can, but I suspect this is part of a case I’ve been hired to solve.”

  Scotts drew himself to his full height, his shoulders straining his cheap suit. “Murder trumps PI business.”

  A wiry smile crossed her lips. “I’ll share, but I can’t divulge my client or pertinent information.”

  “I could have you arrested for obstruction.” The words weren’t heated. They both knew he could, and they both knew he wouldn’t. They needed her on this case.

  “Tell me.”

  In the space of a breath, her knees weakened and all the strength poured out of her. The next instant, she landed on her hands and knees, unsure who cut the strings holding her upright. Every bit of current she carried vanished. The hollowness left behind felt like part of her had been amputated. She heard shouting but didn’t look, having a hard enough time keeping her head from slamming face first into the slimy mud.

  “Don’t.” She flinched when Scotts reached to help her stand. Her arms quivered under the strain of her weight. Mud squished between her fingers when she tried to force them to work.

  Taggert appeared out of nowhere, knocking Scotts to the ground. The sound of guns leaving holsters rent the air. “Taggert.”

  In an instant, he was at her side. When he reached for her arm, she pulled back. The lack of support tilted her balance, and she twisted to land on her ass.

  “Raven?”

  “That’s it.” Scotts hauled Taggert to his feet and shoved him away. “I should arrest you for assault. If you ever do anything like that again, I will.”

  The people around them tittered nervously, holstering their weapons and turning away. She could hear them snicker, believing she finally broke at the sight of a dead body. Not likely, but she’d accept the excuse if it kept them from asking questions.

  It wasn’t like she could explain that she was recovering from an attack when her wounds had miraculously healed. Like a flame, her gift flickered on and off. The electrical storm must have messed with her power more than she expected, taking her system longer to get back online.

  “You okay?”

  Scotts’ soft question reverberated in her head, and she gave him a tight smile as she fought not to suck in all the energy around her. “Peachy.”

  “Liar.”

  “Empty stomach.”

  Doubt lingered for a moment on his face, then his eyes narrowed. “In return for not pressing assault charges, you’ll share all your information on the case with me.”

  His smugness itched her the wrong way. “Blackmail, Scotts? I thought you were above that.”

  A tight smile tipped his lips. “I want answers.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  SUNSET

  Taggert’s gaze bore into Raven as she slowly rose to her feet, his broad shoulders giving her some privacy. She used the tree for a prop, the bark gouging into her spine. She couldn’t get over the feeling he was humoring her. One wrong move and Taggert would scoop her up and rescue her. Even if her touch killed him.

  She gingerly shuffled to the car. Taggert opened the door, and she all but collapsed onto the seat. Snapping off both layers of gloves, she propped her elbows on her thighs and dropped her head between her knees, waiting for the world to stop tilting. Blood rushed to her temples. Everything around her dimmed until she feared she might pass out.

  “Raven?”

  She swallowed twice before she had enough spit to speak. “Give me a second. Watch the area. Make sure no one touches me.”

  “Were you attacked?” The vengeance in his voice was unmistakable, but she didn’t raise her head. The last thing she needed right now was an overprotective shifter.

  She ignored his question. Keeping her eyes closed, she allowed the world to drop away. When only her mind and the chaos within surrounded her, she reached out for the current that always swarmed through her. She’d thought she’d wanted to be normal. Now, without the current, she felt vulnerable and exposed and only half a person.

  The same ball of energy rested at her core, but wrapped around it was a dark shadow that blocked anything from escaping. When she probed the foggy layer, a deep cold slithered through her, stealing an inch of her heat at a time.

  The shape moved, and Raven sensed she was under observation. The creature felt alien and wrong. She froze, unwilling to draw more attention to herself. The thing evidently found her lacking and curled up on itself, going back to its slumber.

  Heart pounding in her ears, she scrambled for answers.

  It was trying to stay warm.

  She didn’t know where the idea came from, but once formed, she knew it was true. When she would’ve backed out, she saw another shape in the shadows. Then another.

  Something warm and furry brushed against her mind. Her chest hurt at the contact. Understanding slammed into her and a rush of air escaped her lungs. Something was making her various animals manifest themselves.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped to see Taggert crouched inches from her face. The concern and pure fear she saw didn’t reassure her.

  “We need to get you home.” The tremble in his usually placid voice raised her hackles.

  “What did you see?”

  Taggert stood, turned away and shook his head. “We need to go.”

  Before she could demand more information, he walked back toward the crime scene. She saw him talk to Scotts, purposely keeping his back to her so she couldn’t read his lips. The way Scotts spun to watch her turned her displeasure to anger.

  She picked up her gloves and pushed to her feet. She staggered, then gained her footing and thought better of stalking over there. Instead, she slammed the door. It felt good, but it didn’t ease her anger. It curled around her, demanding retaliation. Each minute that passed, her rage grew.

  She embraced the chan
ge. Anything was better than feeling weak. She couldn’t allow herself to be helpless. Business was scheduled for tonight. A tour of Bloodhouses, local clubs marked by red doors that catered to vampire clientele and their blood donors. She clenched her hands into fists, relishing the prospect of a fight.

  Though some clubs followed the rave circuit to avoid being targeted by vigilantes, the Bloodhouses were created with the safety of both parties in mind. Everyone walking in with a tag was free game for the vampires and couldn’t cry foul.

  She gazed at Taggert and Scotts. They must have recognized something in her look for they both took off running toward her. She snagged the door handle. The temptation to leave wrapped around her, but some part of her mind recognized that her actions weren’t rational.

  The need to hunt swelled. She opened the door and slipped behind the wheel, tossing her gloves in the passenger seat. Scotts waved, yelling something, but it was the determination on Taggert’s face that made a thrill go through her. The engine turned over, and she slipped the car in gear, eager for the chase. Excitement had a mischievous smile tilting her lips.

  Jackson would understand. She wished he was here.

  Warmth brushed against her mind, and a sliver of reason battled against the urge to slam on the gas. She peeled her fingers off the wheel, and curled them into fists, relishing the pain as her short nails dug into her palm and drew blood.

  The door ripped open. It was too late to change her mind now. An angry howl ripped through her mind. She leaned back against the seat, her whole body shaking. She shoved the car in park and turned off the engine. “We should go home.”

  They ended up in Scotts’ car. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but Taggert didn’t have a valid license. Apparently very few slaves were granted the privilege. And the darn fool, Scotts, refused to let her drive. Courtesy of a rookie, her own vehicle would arrive later.

  Once they pulled up to the house, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave again if the others found out what had happened. She couldn’t allow that. “How old was the last victim?”

  “Male, age eighteen to twenty-five.” Scotts didn’t take his eyes off the road. “What did you see?”

  “This one was different.” This victim was healthy. Possibly the informant who had called Cassie. But she couldn’t say more for fear the police would demand to question Cassie. Turning a human into a vampire wasn’t exactly against the law, not yet anyway, but Cassie was in no condition to answer questions, her moods too volatile to handle any additional stress. “That was a fresh kill. Did Ross give you a timeline?”

  Silence crowded the car, and she looked away from the passing scenery to meet Scotts’ gaze in the rear view mirror.

  “You were hired to help the police. So why does it seem you get all your questions answered and mine get ignored.” He slowed to take a curve, dodging traffic in a way that would make a New York taxi driver proud. “Remember our deal.”

  Raven grunted. He was right. He deserved better. “I’ve been hired to find a missing person, but the further I dig, the more people I find have disappeared.”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary has hit the board.” If it wasn’t on the board, the police didn’t know about it.

  The slight distrust in his voice warned her that she walked a fine line. He needed more. “You wouldn’t. Shifters and vampires are the targets.”

  Scotts scratched the stubble of his chin with his thumb. “I can ask around.”

  Raven waved him away. “You won’t find anything. Nothing has been reported. They’re targeting loners.”

  He took another turn that slid her across the seat, and she braced herself. A few more minutes, and she’d be home. She needed to talk fast. “I’m not sure your case and my missing persons are connected.”

  “But you think they are.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Members of my team are checking other avenues.”

  “While you go it alone.” Scotts shook his head. “I don’t like it. You take too many chances. You need backup.”

  “I can’t take you. You’re too...”

  “Human.” Taggert finished and turned toward her. “But I’m not.”

  “I was going to say too much of a cop. And no, out of the question. Neither of you are going.” The men shared a silent look of understanding that drove her crazy. She stared down at the kid, hoping to intimidate him. She contemplated shocking him into reason, but didn’t think it’d change his stubborn hide. “I need to visit a Bloodhouse for answers.”

  When he only blinked, unconcerned, she sighed. “You’d be a liability. I’d be spending so much time protecting you that I won’t get any answers.”

  “I’ve been there before. I’ll be fine.” The way his eyes darkened with memories sent a shiver through her. The wood scent around him sharpened and soured. Something horrible had happened to him, yet he was determined to go anyway.

  “Why the hell would any shifter go there willingly?” The question escaped before she could think better of it.

  “A test. You pass the test, you live.”

  A part of her heart thumped painfully. “Please tell me you didn’t go alone.”

  “I passed.” Horror sickened her at his carefully bland voice. How could they treat one another like that? Less than even an animal? Even Scotts looked enraged.

  Wrath funneled into protectiveness. “I won’t put you in danger.” She couldn’t.

  “I’ll just follow you. With the collar, they’ll view me as prey.” He hesitated.

  “Or?” She didn’t think she wanted to know.

  “Or you can mate me. Show ownership. They won’t pick on a shifter who’s been mated for fear of retaliation from the pack.”

  She wanted to save his life, not condemn it. If she took his blood, there would be no going back. He’d be bound to her in a life she had little control over, and if her unruly powers continued to grow, she didn’t want to take him down with her. The noose tightened around her neck and all the time she thought she had to find an alternate solution besides claiming him evaporated.

  As if he sensed her resistance, Taggert spoke with a ruthlessness that surprised her. “I go, or I tell the others what happened today and your plans for tonight.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As soon as they returned, Raven pleaded exhaustion and took refuge in her room. Taggert’s sharp look crawled under her skin long after she’d disappeared, and any secret hope of escaping the house without notice vanished. He’d found the spine he’d been missing when she needed it the least. Damn it. As the dancing rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon, she couldn’t believe that in the last five days, her whole life had changed.

  Though the room was large, her restlessness made it feel cramped. She wanted the wide-open spaces of outside, but knew there would be no running from her problems. They’d just follow her and multiply when she wasn’t looking. To shake away the nerves threatening to cripple her, she focused on what she could do well. Her job.

  Stripping her clothes, she glanced at her closet, then quickly pulled out her outfit for tonight. Hoping for a little anonymity, she chose black clothes and boots. She scraped her hair back, securing it in a twist to hide the distinct silver swatch.

  A knock like a gunshot filled the room. She jumped and the last pin she shoved home dug into her skull. Jitters ate away her calm. She’d been avoiding the subject, but there was no way around her half-unspoken promise to claim Taggert without her case falling apart and more people dying.

  How could she have promised something so stupid? There had to be a way around it, but she couldn’t think of anything. That it would ultimately save his life helped but not a lot.

  The gulp of air she took lodged in her throat as she shuffled toward the door. She’d expected Taggert and couldn’t have been more astonished to find Jackson.

  He shifted uncomfortably, and she instantly went on guard. “What’s wrong?” God, please don’t let there be another emergency. She didn’t have enough time to f
igure out her problems, let alone others’.

  “May I come in?”

  Dread filled her at the polite request. That couldn’t be good. She opened the door wider and stepped away so his body wouldn’t brush hers.

  The expression on his face let her know he recognized her reaction, but surprisingly, he took pity on her and didn’t goad her as she expected.

  “You’re going out tonight.” He walked to the balcony glass doors, his back toward hers.

  “Yes.”

  He turned slightly, giving her a side view of his face. “With Taggert.” The curt response shouldn’t have surprised her, but he always caught her off guard.

  The attitude pissed her off, and she answered instead of evading. “Yes.”

  “When do we leave?”

  Raven hesitated at the carefully controlled voice. Something was wrong.

  She stepped closer, opened her senses and blew out a relieved breath to have them respond so readily. Then she saw his eyes, alive with such restless need, that her breath lodged in her throat. “Taggert and I won’t be leaving for a while.” She maintained her distance from the maelstrom of confusion swirling around him, tried to use the space to pinpoint her unease. “If you want to take a run, I promise we won’t leave until you return.”

  Jackson opened the French doors and stepped onto the balcony. Energy swamped him, but underneath seethed a layer of rage that threatened to consume her. She didn’t understand. The curtains rippled in the breeze. She debated the wisdom of following him, noted the stiff set of his shoulders, the tension ready to explode, the potential of being caught up in another crisis, and decided it was a bad move.

  Then stepped out after him anyway.

  “Want to talk about it?” He must miss his pack. Maybe he even had a girlfriend, and she was keeping him from her. A bitter taste soured her mouth.

 

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