Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel)

by Brutger, Stacey

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “We’re friends!” That hurt, not to mention that his attitude pissed her off. “I had a right to know what kind of life I condemned you to suffer every time you fed.”

  “Damn it anyway.” He rushed across the room in a blur, slamming his fists down on her desk. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You think everything’s your fault. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “It has everything to do with me. If not for my blood, none of this would’ve happened.” Just as furious, she stood and planted her palms on the desk, mimicking his posture.

  Rylan didn’t say a word as he turned and walked toward the door. Her breath hiccupped in her chest.

  “Don’t leave.”

  He reached for the knob then paused, keeping his back to her. “You’re partially right.”

  A bubble of pain grew under her ribs. She lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders, bracing herself against his words.

  “If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve died in the labs years ago.”

  The door shut quietly, deflating her. When he left the house, the hum in the air slowly dissipated. But damn it, between the choice of him being dead or alive, she’d choose alive every time.

  Taking a deep breath to deal with another vampire, she dialed the number Lester left for her. He answered on the first ring. “I believe I know what happened to your son.”

  “You have my attention.” Her skin tightened uncomfortably. That was not something you ever wanted to hear from a vampire.

  “You’re son dated a girl named Sarah Wilson. She was involved in a hit and run, leaving her in a coma that no one expected her to survive.” Raven paged through her notes.

  “They were going to remove her from life support. Her pack was going to claim her body, so he bit her.”

  “You’re sure?” The displeasure in his voice made her speak faster.

  “Yes, but nothing happened. They took her off life support that afternoon. What happened next is foggy. I believe he thought there was still a way to bring her back. He went to the morgue later that evening.” An image of the broken morgue fridge flashed through her mind. “Something went wrong with the transfusion. She had enough human DNA to wake, but the few drops of her shifter blood prevented a full transition.” She grew quiet. “I think he recognized what she was in the end.”

  “A ghoul.” The disgust in his voice was obvious.

  “He must have found her when she woke, starved and confused. He tried to stop her.”

  “And died. Thank you for your assistance. I’m sure you understand that this stays between—”

  “You misunderstand. He succeeded. While distracted trying to contain her, Jason was murdered. Ghouls are rare. The chance to enslave one is even more so. It was a possibility the killer couldn’t pass up.”

  “They’re an abomination.” The controlled emotion in his voice boomed in her mind like a bullhorn, the power coming to him automatically. Mind games. She doubted he was aware of using it this time.

  “Be that as it may, your son died trying to save her life.” Prolonged silence filled the phone, leaving her uneasy. Smart people knew better than to disagree with a Vampire. You’d think she’d learn sooner rather than later to keep her opinions to herself and just report the facts.

  “The killers name?”

  “Dr. Patrick Ross. Dr. Ross ran into an unfortunate accident earlier this evening.”

  Another pause, this one fraught with danger. “I thought we had an understanding.”

  She had to tread carefully. The last thing she needed was a new enemy. “Our agreement stood until he kidnapped one of mine. I’m sure you understand.”

  A disgruntled sigh crossed the line. “At least tell me he suffered.”

  “Yes.” She thought back to Ross, his dying mother, his life and knew it was true. Until his mind snapped. “But not nearly enough.” Especially when images of the bloody lab haunted her, the glaringly empty cages, the near skeletal survivors that somehow managed to live.

  “And the police?”

  “Have no knowledge of your son or his connection to Sarah’s resurrection. As far as they know, she’s dead.”

  “You’ll keep it that way.” It was a command.

  “Of course.” She debated whether to say anything about Sarah’s existence and decided against it. Wolves and vampires didn’t mix. He wouldn’t care that his son loved her or died for her. To him, she never existed.

  “Thank you for your services. We owe you a debt.” A dial tone rang in her ear.

  Raven pulled away the headset and looked at the phone, then slowly lowered it. His gratitude sounded like more trouble than it was worth. Sunrise would be here soon. Her body ached, her head pounded. A couple of hours sleep would do wonders for her body to heal.

  The guys would be asleep up stairs. In an odd sort of way, she was glad Durant had stayed. Without Jackson, her room felt empty. If asked, she’d deny it, but she’d grown accustomed to Jackson’s presence. She didn’t think she’d be able to relax until she had him home.

  Shadows shrouded the room when she turned off the last light. Half asleep, she slipped out to the hall. Her hand was on the railing when the floorboards groaned.

  Her brain snapped to full awareness. Someone else was in the house.

  “You stupid bitch. You ruined everything.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Pure dread raked down Raven’s spine. She recognized that smooth, superior voice from the hellish tunnel deep within the bowels of the earth. The analytical observer was gone. There was a wealth of emotion in his voice now.

  Grandpa had found her.

  She removed her foot from the bottom step, shuffled backwards and turned. Her back brushed lightly against the wall. One second was all it took. Power immediately flared along the wires, dancing behind the sheetrock like it had been waiting for her touch. Her body throbbed at the call, still oversensitive from all the abuse. She refused to absorb any of it for fear that at the first touch, her core would shut down again.

  “I thought you and your friend would’ve been long gone by now.” She swallowed with difficulty and took a step closer to him and his silent companion, willing them away from the boys upstairs.

  “Not without taking care of a little business first.”

  “To kill me.” The floor trembled beneath her. She resisted a shudder as energy forked its way under the floorboards, slowly snaking its way toward her.

  “You were never meant to survive. You succeeded because you cheated. The others showed up to rescue you.” Disgust clouded his face, and he spit on the floor.

  “You said if I escaped, I was free. You said nothing about rules.”

  “I lied.” He raised the gun in his hand. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Raven raised her hands and twisted sideways to make herself a smaller target. “I don’t understand. You didn’t care about the hunt. It was more of a means to an end. Why make it personal?”

  “The boy was my grandson.”

  “The pervert?”

  He backhanded her, splitting her lip. Blood spilled across her tongue. She used the momentum to twist about, bringing her closer to the door. Then she noticed that the alarm was off.

  She froze when she faced him. Those cold eyes latched onto her wound, his breathing erratic. He licked his lips, his tongue flickering like a reptile. His hands curled into fists as if unable to wait for the pleasure of hitting her again. “You created the hunt for him, didn’t you?”

  “He had an aptitude for it.”

  A sickening thought took root. “He started killing people, and you needed to find a way to protect him, so you orchestrated this whole thing.”

  “And why not? There is a whole shifter population that everyone ignores. No one missed them. Hell, they kill their own kind.”

  “But you found that you liked the hunt.”

  A smile came to his face. “I find there is a certain justice to cleansing the w
orld so others might live without the stink of your kind.” Spittle flew from his lips, his eyes overly bright. He waved to his henchman. “Go upstairs and handle the others.”

  “No.” Raven prayed they heard her shout and got the hell out of there.

  The man smirked and took the stairs two at a time, pulling a gun out of the waistband of his pants.

  Raven halted her retreat, everything in her stilling. The air brushed over her, every inch soaked with power. And she couldn’t access any of it. Without a care for the consequences, she ripped open the vault holding the poisonous golden strands. Energy poured into her body, each pore sucking it in like water to desert sand as fury ripped away every ounce of self-preservation.

  The gun cocked.

  “Once I finish you, I’ll go back and skin those pets of yours and use their pelts on my floor.”

  The deluge of power rippled over her, the pain nipping at her nerves. She lifted her hand to strike first when the door to the kitchen inched opened. A shape entered with a disjointed, awkward gait she recognized.

  “Sarah?” Vengeance gleamed in the cloudy eyes when her gaze landed on Grandpa. She must have followed the men here. Raven instinctively took a step back, trying to pull back the swell of power. She nearly went sprawling on her ass when her foot caught on the rug she used to hide the scars etched in the floor.

  Grandpa twisted, firing without hesitation. The first shot struck Sarah high in the shoulder. Her body jerked, then slowly toppled forward.

  “No.” Raven ran forward to catch her, and the gun swung in her direction.

  “Stay back.”

  Sarah landed on her face with a sickening crunch. Her fingers twitched, her arms slowly moved as she pulled herself forward with her hands.

  Grandpa laughed at her feeble attempt, lifted the gun, and shot her again. This time, the body lay still. That little flame of life sputtered then faded.

  All the golden cords of power burst out of Raven, including the few remaining blue strands that had kept the lockbox sealed. They swarmed the body on the floor like ants. Drained by the total lack of power, she dropped to her knees with a painful crack. Not even the animals grumbled. Her body felt like someone had taken her out back and kicked the shit out of her.

  A roar rang in her ears. A thump vibrated under her hands. She lifted her head to see the mauled body of the henchman two feet away, tossed over the railing like a paper airplane to land in a splatter of blood and bones.

  Durant and Taggert loped down the stairs in a blurred speed, half-dressed but none the worse for wear. Blood rushed out of her head to see them healthy and whole. Durant didn’t even spare her a glance, his focus centered on the threat. Taggert ignored it all, his attention on her.

  “I see your friends have decided to join us.” Grandpa waved the gun, the barrel pointed at her head. “Let’s keep your distance, now, shall we.”

  Taggert grabbed Durant’s arm, muscles flexing when Durant resisted. Both men halted half way down the steps. Then Durant’s molten gold gaze met hers.

  Eager to get the old man’s focus away from the guys, she tossed out the theory she suspected the first time she saw him. “I wonder what your friends would say if they knew you weren’t completely human. Like how you can pick out shifters from humans.”

  His reaction was immediate. He lashed out with his boot. The blow caught her in the ribs, nearly picking her off the floor.

  A roar reverberated in the room, and Durant leapt over the railing. A bullet cracked in the ceiling, halting all movement.

  Grandpa lowered his arm and aimed the barrel at her head. “I’d rather not have any holes in my new pelts. Stand down.”

  Grandpa walked to the other side of the room to keep them all in view and out of arm’s reach. Raven struggled to her feet. Without electricity to hold them back, the shadows at her core woke with a vengeance. Under their influence, the aches faded, and her emotions grew more volatile.

  Taggert helped her rise as Durant stood in front of them, his large body protecting her. She grabbed his belt loop, gouging her nails into the hard muscles of his side to prevent him from doing something stupid like attacking. Gunshots at such close quarters could be lethal even for him if the old man got off enough shots.

  Durant flinched, but the hum under her hand calmed. Then she saw a movement on the floor.

  Sarah.

  Though the rims of her eyes remained clouded, they were not that of a ghoul. Raven saw only Sarah. Recognition flashed between them.

  The electric charge must have returned her humanity back to her. All the horror she lived through the last few weeks hollowed out her face. Her hand encircled a necklace at her throat, and a bitter smile came to her lips.

  “No.” But Sarah didn’t listen, throwing herself at the old man, her arm raised to strike.

  Grandpa turned and fired at point blank range, but she was already on him. After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled in an awkward dance and collapsed. Blood pooled beneath the bodies, spreading toward Raven in an ever increasing circle.

  Durant cautiously knelt to check for life, but she knew it was already too late.

  “She tore out his throat.” Durant turned Sarah over. Her sightless eyes stared up at them, her body pale and gaunt. “She’s gone.”

  A terrible sadness riddled Raven’s heart. She hadn’t meant to bring Sarah back. The two powers must have mingled, merging to form an unholy union, one powerful enough to bring Sarah back from the dead and human. No one could ever know the truth.

  The horror in Sarah’s eyes as she realized what she’d become would haunt Raven for a long time.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Raven stood in the shower, groaning as the heated spray pounded her aches away. Durant had ordered her and Taggert upstairs. Any protests she had died when he warned that time was short if she wanted to be at the police station in an hour to pick up Jackson. A thrill shot through her at the prospect of seeing Jackson again. Of claiming him.

  With no threat, her animals were at peace, her power was recharging, taking the time to repair the damage Randolph’s power had inflicted. Though the last week had taken its toll, her new pack had been worth all of it. She just had one more task remaining: to prepare for the council meeting.

  She reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out of the steam. And found a pile of clothing neatly folded on the sink, including her bra and panties. All the clothes were black, but instead of her normal gloves, she found in their place a colorful red pair that she knew didn’t come from her closet. She fingered the smooth leather, unsure how to handle the little kick of pleasure she got at seeing them.

  After dressing, she walked into the bedroom to find Taggert waiting for her.

  “Sit.”

  A little uncertain of his demand, she sat in front of the mirror as instructed. He picked up a brush and stroked it through her hair. On the third pull, her head fell forward, and the tension slowly eased. Everything was finally over. No one would try to kill them today.

  “The car is ready when you are.” Durant’s voice shocked her back to the present. She lifted her head to find his concerned gaze on her. “I can pick him up if you want to rest. I’m sure he’d understand.”

  She peered in the mirror at her pale face, bruised eyes, and busted lip. Didn’t she look like a treat? “No. I need to finish this.”

  She twisted her hair up, gritting her teeth as the muscles in her wounded arm and shoulder trembled at the simple move. She had a feeling even a mosquito would win a fight with her today.

  Nerves fluttered to life as she rose to leave.

  She would take Jackson’s blood and make him one of her own. Instead of dread, excitement lashed through her as they made their way downstairs.

  The hall was clean like nothing had ever happened. Part of her was grateful. This was her retreat. Her place of peace. That had been shattered hours before, but Durant helped right it.

  She brushed against him as she walked, catching the light fr
agrance of leather. His body tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t reply, only brushed against her in return as they walked toward the car. The ride to the police station was uneventful. The station was teeming even though it was barely eight in the morning.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she saw Scotts and knew something had gone terribly wrong. Her feet stopped, and she waited for him to make his way toward them. Before he could say anything, she spoke. “He’s gone.”

  Scotts ran a hand through his hair. The man looked like shit under the unforgiving florescent light, his dark coloring washed out. She doubted he’d gotten a lick of sleep. “He was released into the custody of his pack. With the charges dropped, I had no right to hold him.”

  Disbelief winged through her. He’d left. Without saying good-bye, he’d left. She nodded Scotts, too numb to feel anything yet. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Wait!”

  He shoved a packet in her hand.

  “What’s this?”

  “An application. You had four nominations even before the station opened.”

  “For what?” She didn’t bother to open the thick envelope, not even curious of its contents as she battled to keep her composure. The numbness that cushioned her at the announcement of Jackson’s disappearance gradually started to fade.

  “Thanks to the media coverage on this case, the legislature passed their law to create two paranormal police squads. A person can apply for the job, then pass the blood tests and formal interviews, or a registered paranormal can be nominated into the position.” Scotts didn’t look any more thrilled about her nominations than she did.

  She couldn’t help but be suspicious of what her mysterious benefactors would want in return. And the last thing she wanted was to register herself in the national database. How the hell was she supposed to fill in the question of species and/or talent?

  “Who placed the nominations?”

  He just shrugged. “We lowly lawmen don’t get to know the details. It’s all approved by committee. A human in the government or law enforcement has to vote for you as well as one pack or clan. The catch is the whole pack has to be in consensus for their vote to count. And no member can be nominated by one of their own.”