Electric Heat (A Raven Investigations Novel Book 3)

by Stacey Brutger

  The shifter whined and pressed closer. When she stepped toward the door, he snapped at her pant leg and tried to tug her back, as if trying to steer her away from danger.

  “Durant, stay out here with him and keep him calm if you can.” He narrowed his eyes on her, then gave a grunt she interpreted as agreement. His beast rose to the surface in seconds, all ferocious and ready for trouble. The smell of leather soothed her unease at leaving them unprotected. The jaguar released her at the show of dominance and hunkered down with another whine. Those blue eyes of his followed her, but he let her walk away without another protest.

  The cabin was a little larger than the one they occupied. Everyone had gathered outside the bedroom, and the smell of magic and dust suffused the room. It emanated from the body sprawled in the middle of the floor. She resembled a shriveled old lady, so emaciated her form was barely discernable under her clothes. She couldn’t weigh more than seventy pounds. Her skin was dry, cracked like mud baked too long under the pounding sun.

  A laughing picture of her lay smashed on the floor, possibly shattered in a scuffle. The woman looked no more than thirty in the image and in the prime of her life. Now she was nothing more than a desiccated corpse.

  Or so Raven believed until she saw the withered fingers twitch. Revulsion twisted through her to see the poor woman was still alive—trapped inside a living corpse—struggling to fight the rampaging magic consuming her.

  “She’s alive.” Raven expected them to rush into the room, but no one moved.

  Then she understood why. Whatever was killing the witch had stolen the jaguar’s life force through their connection. It was entirely possible it would be able to pull even more energy through a link between coven members.

  Wilted fingers moved again, clawing toward the door, and Raven would swear she was trying to crawl toward the other witches. She didn’t seem to care that her touch would kill.

  The witches couldn’t do anything because of the connection between them, but Raven had no such bindings.

  “Raven.” Durant caught her arm before she could step into the room. “Don’t.”

  “She’ll die.”

  “She’s already dead.” Raven heard no pity, a mere statement of fact.

  “Not yet.” She shrugged off his hold and shoved her way into the room.

  And was stopped by an invisible wall.

  “It’s a ward. Nothing can pass in or out.” Heloise answered Raven’s unspoken question, and raised her hand to reveal a severe burn that bubbled up the flesh and covered her whole palm. “We’re trying to take it down, but it will take time.”

  Time they didn’t have.

  They were left to do nothing but watch while one of their own was murdered.

  Then another thing struck her. “You let me try to enter the room without a warning.”

  Heloise shrugged. “You are unharmed.”

  “I told you no more tests.” She twisted her arm where she smacked into the ward, only to see…nothing. No burn. “So, did I pass or fail?”

  The witch tightened her lips and turned away.

  Passed, then. But was that good or bad?

  Raven ignored everyone else and studied the problem. The ward was clever, created to bar anyone from entering or exiting. But if the magic’s purpose was to consume power, why not allow others to cross over and devour them as well?

  She was missing something.

  “I didn’t burn.” She stepped closer to the ward. “It was created to keep out witches.”

  Raven tugged at her power, urging it to rise.

  Nothing.

  Durant had warned her to never try altering an active spell, it could have very nasty side effects, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t play with it a bit.

  Spells were just another form of electricity. This was her milieu. She should be able to manipulate it easily enough.

  No one stopped her when she lifted her hands and stepped forward. The invisible wall was strung across the doorjamb and encased the room, making it impossible for anyone to punch through the wall to get inside. Static rose under her touch as she pushed closer. If she concentrated hard enough, she could see the individual threads of energy crisscross each other like they had been knitted together. She just needed to pull a few strings and create a large enough opening for her to sneak through.

  She had to be fast. She had only one shot to get it right. She might be able to alter the magic, but once she released her hold, the ward would instinctively snap back to its natural form and become stronger than ever, if not downright impenetrable.

  Energy crackled while she pulled and shoved.

  She was sweating by the time she stepped over the threshold. What remained of the ward clung to her like a caress, purring in welcome. Its reaction, as if it were a living thing, creeped her out.

  The closer she got to the woman, the thicker the magic became.

  Only there was something wrong with it.

  It was wild and dangerous and nearly uncontrollable. Kind of like the boogeyman in its relentless pursuit of prey. It wasn’t something she could touch, there was nothing she could see, but the threat was all too real. And like the boogeyman, she couldn’t catch it, not until it was too late, and she was left facing a killer with no way to protect herself.

  She had felt something similar once before…in her house when someone tried and almost succeeded in killing a young man under her protection.

  She knelt by the witch, but the woman ignored her, continuing to scratch the floor. Her nails were broken to the quick, her fingertips bloody, torn stubs as she tried to drag herself toward safety. The blood had dried, the flesh beneath so shriveled it resembled jerky.

  It made no sense. Help had arrived. Why ignore it?

  Raven turned and studied the door.

  Everything appeared normal.

  Unless she wasn’t trying to reach the door.

  Raven lunged forward and tore away the rug. Etched underneath was a series of symbols and lines, organized in three rows like a language of sorts.

  The constant click and scrape of fingers against the floor had finally stopped. The witch tried to speak, but the sound was more of a gurgle than anything intelligible.

  Raven studied the mummified corpse, a little unnerved by the yellowed-jaundice eyes staring back at her. The bloodied fingered creaked as the witch pointed, the act of straightening her clawed finger snapping the bones.

  Raven followed the bony finger to the door and finally understood.

  The symbols were the wards.

  Raven reached over to swipe away the words, then hesitated. If she ripped down the wards, the magic would no longer be contained. It would spill into the other room and kill everyone with even a hint of magic.

  She slowly withdrew her hand.

  No, she had to stop the magic first. A rattle came from the witch’s chest, and Raven realized she was laughing.

  “I’m going to have to touch you.” Ignoring the nausea churning in her gut, Raven hesitantly placed her hand on the woman’s arm. The dying witch’s skin was paper-thin and tore at even the lightest brush of her fingertips. The witch shuddered. At first, nothing happened. Then like a shark in water, the wild magic surged forward and launched itself at her.

  It slithered up her hand, tiny sparks biting at her like an army of ants.

  Tasting her.

  The creature she harbored roared in challenge, slashing at the magic that threatened to infect her. Before she could withdraw, the witch latched onto her arm, madness gleaming in her eyes. The hold was surprisingly strong for a bag of bones, her fingers biting into Raven’s arms with the grip of a boa constrictor, and she was its next meal.

  “Raven, get out of there.” Durant stood at the door like a sentinel, furious that he couldn’t cross the threshold and physically remove her from danger.

  “She won’t release me. She’s trying to siphon my energy.”

  “I don’t give a shit. She’s brittle. Break her fingers. Rip off her damne
d arm if you must.” His voice rose, his muscles bulging as he tried to force his way through the wards.

  Raven ignored the command, trusting her creature to protect her. She needed answers, and she might not get another chance. She’d traced the magic back to its owner once, and she could do it again. She allowed her mind to flow along the stream of magic, her stomach twisting and turning in the weightlessness for a few mind-numbing seconds. Then she caught her balance and followed the magic back to the source. She couldn’t tell the distance she travelled, but the magic grew stronger as she neared the origin. The darkness began to recede, and shapes came into focus.

  As if the caster had read her intent to ferret him out, the spell cut off abruptly, and she found herself dropped back into her body with a nasty thump. Her creature gave a vicious snarl, snapping and ripping into the tentacles reaching for her. The lingering magic coated her like motor oil, leaving behind a slimy residue that made each breath a chore. Though her shields had held, Raven felt invaded.

  The magic dissipated slowly, leaving her queasy and overly warm, like she’d eaten something rancid.

  “Raven.”

  Her eyes snapped open. The first thing she saw was Durant, almost able to feel his fur bristle with hostility. When her gaze met his pure gold eyes, he froze. He didn’t say more, didn’t even drop his gaze, as if he was staring down a wild animal, too afraid to move lest it attacked.

  Afraid of her.

  The truth was like a kick in the face.

  Her creature gave a hum of comfort.

  Alpha.

  The word came from her creature and explained so much. Her pack swore she was an alpha, strong enough to control such indomitable men, but she never believed them until now.

  Durant adjusted his expression, but it was too late. She glanced away, ashamed of her lack of control, and saw her eyes gleam blue in the broken glass from the picture frame. She struggled to tuck away the power seething under her skin, but it was like playing with live voltage.

  Now that the magic was gone, the smell of decay overwhelmed the room. Each breath layered her mouth and throat with a film of death that no amount of scraping would remove.

  When she was sure she wouldn’t lose her cookies, she looked up again to see she had the witches’ complete attention. They eyed her suspiciously. They were able to feel the aftereffects of power in the air, the sheer volume of magic should have been enough to fry anyone who dared try to wield it.

  And Raven remained relatively unaffected.

  She crawled forward and swiped her hand over the symbols on the floor, the remnants of the hex so thorny her skin felt like it was being filleted off her hand one layer at a time. She staggered out of the way as the wards fell.

  Durant was the first one through the door, a growl of displeasure vibrating up his chest as he pinned her to the wall when her legs threatened to give out and drop her on her ass. She ducked her head, using his broad shoulders to protect her from prying eyes.

  “She’s alive.” When the witches continued to gape at her, she barely resisted the urge to growl. “If you want to save her life, you’d better get your ass in gear.”

  Chapter Seven

  The witches scurried into the room, forgetting about Raven in their rush to rescue their fallen comrade. In less than five minutes, the cabin was emptied until only she and Durant remained. Raven reluctantly pushed him away. She couldn’t hide behind him forever.

  When she left the room, the rotten stench followed. With every step, it grew progressively worse, and she practically stumbled across the remnants of a foot. When she peered around the corner, she realized there were actually two remains, the bodies tossed away like discarded trash.

  “Her familiars.”

  All that remained of them were dried corpses that looked hundreds of years old. Their skin was worn and brown, their bones turning to powder even as she watched. “She stole all their power, even their lives, just to prolong her own. The jaguar was to be the next victim, but he ran. The distance must have granted him the time he needed to survive. She couldn’t drain him as fast as the others and still fight off the attack at the same time.”

  “You’re doing it again.” Durant was watching her in the assessing way she was coming to hate.

  “Doing what?” Raven crossed her arms, unsure whether she wanted to know what he was going to say.

  “Acting human. Showing outrage.”

  She shoved him hard, but the big bastard didn’t give her the pleasure of budging even an inch, leaving her frustration nowhere to go. “Dammit, they deserve better than to be slaughtered like animals.”

  “We are animals.” His roar reverberated in the room.

  Raven shook her head, her anger evaporating. She reached up and cupped his cheek, her palm tingling from the prickle of his scruffy jaw. “No, you’re pack.”

  Durant softened, leaning into her touch. “They died in service to the pack. It doesn’t make it better, but the witches will have to pay a penalty.” He raised his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “A steep price that will strongly discourage them from allowing something like this to happen again. They can’t afford another incident, or the war with the pack that would inevitably follow.”

  Despite knowing she shouldn’t touch him, she rested her forehead against his chest. She was just so tired.

  “Come.” Durant wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder and ushered her toward the door. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Raven allowed herself to be led outside, more than a little surprised when she saw the sun had set. “What time is it?”

  “You were in the room for hours.”

  She didn’t reply as she took in their surroundings. Dry leaves skittered across campus on a light wind, the night crackling with the lonely sound. The light poles were few and far between, giving the place a deserted feeling…the perfect setting for a killer to strike. All that was missing was a black cat to cross her path.

  The sense of being watch increased until the back of her neck itched. “We’re being followed.”

  Durant nodded. “Ever since we left the cabin. They were standing guard the whole time you were in the room.”

  Like she and Durant were prisoners.

  By unspoken agreement, both remained quiet, not wanting to be overheard.

  Raven felt like she was being hunted by both the witches and the killer, and she didn’t like being squeezed between the destructive forces one bit. This case was different from the other jobs she’d worked, the scene providing no physical evidence or a killer she could pursue. With each paranormal case, she was being led deeper into the supernatural world, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way back.

  “Do you think they set up this elaborate job as a trap to get me here and study me?” She bit her lip, becoming more alarmed when he didn’t answer right away.

  “I’m not sure.”

  His simple answer wasn’t reassuring. “Would they really kill their own for it?”

  “You saw their reaction today. They’d sacrifice their own children for more power.”

  That gave Raven pause. “Do you think that’s why there are fewer than a hundred students?”

  He snorted in response, his voice gruff when he spoke. “Even less, if they had a choice.”

  Raven brushed at her clothes, wishing it was as easy to dispel the remnants of the spell. “What do you mean?”

  “Witches have rules in place that require them to give birth to a certain number of children. A lottery of sorts.”

  Raven nearly tripped at the disclosure. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Durant scratched the stubble along his jaw, not bothering to look at her as he scanned the area for possible threats. “Spell casters are rare, one or two born every few years. Only the most powerful witches are able to conceive them. Something happens to their magic during pregnancy. Some say the child absorbs it, others say the magic is used to create a gifted child, but no one really knows. To preve
nt the loss of power, witches use spells to ensure they don’t conceive. There are a small few who don’t care, but the majority had worked too hard to willingly lose status. Even if the child isn’t born…gifted, it can take the witch years to recover the loss of status. Most children are then farmed out to be raised.”

  “That’s horrible.” She couldn’t imagine having a child ripped from her arms. She’d fight tooth and nail against anyone who would dare.

  Durant touched her arm as if to hold her back. “It’s the mother’s choice. Most of the time, it’s safer for the child.”

  “They resent the loss of power.” She couldn’t believe a mother would ever resent her child for something like that, but the proof was the existence of the school itself. Something Luca said came back to her. “The campus is more of a boarding house for the best and the brightest who have earned the right to be trained.”

  He gave an absent nod. As they drew near their cabin, Durant’s posture stiffened infinitesimally, his expression giving nothing away. Raven wanted to be anywhere but alone in the cabin with him, not fooled in the least by his calm demeanor. He was ready to explode.

  She was right. As soon as the door shut behind them, Durant whirled on her. “What the hell happened back there?”

  He stalked her across the room with determined steps, spoiling for a fight, his single-minded focus fixed mercilessly on her. He wouldn’t be put off with half answers.

  Sudden anger at her situation took over, and she crossed her arms. She would not be pushed around any longer. “I don’t have a clue. You’re the one who seems to know everything. Why don’t you tell me?”

  A barely-there scratch at the door stopped her tirade short.

  Durant immediately became all business, straightening, growing bigger, until he seemed to suck up all the air in the room. He tucked himself behind the door and gestured for her to open it.

  As she turned the knob, the door banged open. The jaguar shifter sat crouched in the doorway, uncertainty clinging to him like the autumn air. He faltered when he saw her, ducking his head to avoid her eyes, as if worried he would be found lacking. Durant huffed. Before he could slam the door in the cat’s face, the shifter scampered inside on all fours.