Electric Moon (A Raven Investigations Novel)

by Stacey Brutger

  Her stomach launched up into her throat at the thought of ordering him to kiss or touch her.

  “How about a compromise until you become more comfortable.”

  Raven shot Taggert a suspicious look.

  “If I want something, I will ask permission and you can grant it or not. As the size of the pack increases, so will the demands on your time. You will have to get used to giving orders. Consider me practice.”

  Raven ignored the part about growing her pack. She had enough trouble keeping her people safe to even think of adding more. She eyed him skeptically. “And you will speak up instead of hovering?”

  It was his turn to hesitate. “Yes.”

  It cheered her that this process would be similarly uncomfortable for the both of them. It was long past midnight and tomorrow was going to be even longer with the conclave and her petition.

  “The other two spent the night in my bed. To sleep. If you want—” Even before she finished speaking, Taggert had his shirt off and crawled across the mattress behind her. The slave collar gleamed against his throat, but he didn’t seem to mind, truly content in his roll.

  She just couldn’t peg him down. He was so young in age that she sometimes forgot about his past.

  Raven readied for bed...or more like delayed getting into bed until the last moment. Exhaustion pulled at her. She turned out the light, relying more and more on her beasts, almost able to see as well in the darkness.

  They both lay rigid, the silence loud to her ears. Two awkward minutes passed before she gave up and rolled toward him. Taggert took that as a signal and wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled. Whatever tension held him melted away. His fingers trailed lazily over the sensitive back of her arm, lulling her under the spell he wove. With her head on his shoulder, his heartbeat in her ear, sleep finally took pity and claimed her.

  She woke to sunlight and an empty bed.

  Why did all the men sneak out of her room as if ashamed?

  She sat, tossing back the covers and stopped to see a box with a bow on the dresser.

  Raven searched but saw no card. Inside the box rested a blue set of gloves that ended at the wrist, secured with a button. “Taggert.”

  She fingered the supple leather, feeling a bit foolish at the thrill over such a small gift. Gathering the armload of her items, she walked in the bathroom.

  And stopped short.

  Taggert was in the shower.

  As in naked.

  He noticed her the minute she’d entered, but instead of acknowledging her presence, he continued to wash. The drag of his hand down on his body slowed. Suds played peek-a-boo with her imagination. His chest was completely smooth, and she had an irrelevant thought that he must’ve shaved himself in preparation of her walking in on him.

  Then Raven saw his erection and knew without a doubt that he was showing off. And despite herself, it took a good minute for her brain to kick into gear. She whirled, her face heating, and she wished she could say it was in embarrassment.

  Part of her mourned not being able to see where his hand ended up, the animal part of her tried to get a better angle in the mirror. The shower turned off within a minute.

  “I’ll finish getting ready in my room.”

  Without an ounce of shyness, Taggert strolled out of the room. She expected him to be wearing a towel. He was in a way. He used it to dry his hair. She watched him walk, fascinated with the smooth expanse of his skin, the liquid way his muscles moved.

  Who would have thought she was such an ass woman?

  Once he left the room, she was finally able to close her mouth and blink her dry eyes.

  She wouldn’t put it past Taggert to have orchestrated that display to get her mind off the first day of the conclave. A smile played on her lips.

  She’d have to hurry and shower if she wanted to check on Jamie, head toward the station to get in her mandatory desk time, and still make it to Talons and the conclave before nightfall.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  FIRST DAY OF THE FULL MOOM: WAXING MOON

  Darkness cloaked the basement, and Raven hesitated on the threshold. The antiseptic odors, the smell of blood and pain, brought unpleasant memories of her past.

  She clenched her fists and descended into hell. It took her a few moments to locate Digger sitting on the other side of the prone figure. She braced herself to find Jamie tied down.

  She’d been so focused on the image that it took her a moment to realize there was nothing sinister in the room.

  “Did he wake?” Jamie was a shifter with all the benefits of accelerated healing. Part of her expected to see him up and about at the very least. Instead, he appeared just as tattered as last night. Dried blood had been removed, revealing exactly how many injuries he’d sustained. The right side of his body took the brunt of the injuries as if he’d tried to turn away, offering a smaller target.

  Digger stood and walked over to the bench he’d commandeered for his needs. “The shifter in him will try to heal the worst of the damage first, which is the internal injuries he’d sustained. He is on the mend, but he’ll be unconscious for the rest of the day, if not longer.”

  Raven wanted to offer to heal him, but refrained for two reasons. All his energies were already tied up in healing. There was nothing for her to redirect without putting his life in further danger. Not to mention she feared that her efforts would bind them together and leave her in possession of another shifter.

  “Did he take that much damage or is there something else slowing down the process?” She feared the transfer of so much blood from the other shifter might have somehow infected him as well.

  Digger gave her a peculiar look. “It is possible. If you have an idea what it might be, it could speed up his recovery time.”

  “Do you still have the clothes he’d been wearing?”

  Digger gestured toward a pile of neatly folded clothes on a chair near the wall.

  “Not all the blood is his. If you can separate and analyze the blood types, it could tell us what’s killing these shifters.”

  “But you suspect something already.”

  Raven gave him a considering look, suspicious to find him so open and unthreatening. He watched, noticed things, but she didn’t sense him studying her.

  She pulled out her phone and showed him the pictures of the crime scene. His face changed. “You see it, too.”

  “Formaldehyde.”

  “All the symptoms match. Despite what the others have said, I can’t imagine this many shifters would kill themselves in such a gruesome matter. For what purpose? This last victim was pack.”

  She flipped through the pictures on the phone until she found the one of Jamie’s hand. “Have you seen this symbol?”

  Digger shook his head. “I saw the mark when I cleaned Jamie’s wounds.”

  “Doc’s too old.” Aaron walked into the room behind her. “It’s a rave stamp, a place where shifter kids that have yet to crest can mingle and make future connections.”

  Plans percolated in the back of her mind, but first, she needed to get to the office and study the case reports to see if they were able to find anything on the other victims. “Keep me informed of his progress.”

  Aaron doggedly followed her up the steps. “I want to go with you.”

  “Where?” Raven answered distractedly, a vague plan forming.

  “I’m not allowed at the conclave until I’ve crested, but I can get you into the rave.”

  “I can manage.” She refused to drag him into danger.

  “You can’t go alone. Not only will it look suspicious, it will be too dangerous for a single female. Kids usually go in packs. Use me. I’ve been there before and know what to expect. Everyone else is too old.”

  “And it’s too dangerous for just the two of us with your pack hunting you.”

  “Not if we take Taggert and Jase.” There was no smile as he argued his proposal in a businesslike manner.

  Raven paced
away from him, agitated to be dragging kids into her murder investigation. Aaron sensed her refusal, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

  “You have three problems. Only the kids know where the rave will be held. Cops will be spotted within a hundred yards of the building.”

  Raven narrowed her eyes, expecting a trap. “And the last one?”

  He gave a broad grin, displaying what a handsome man he would become in a few years. “Getting there is only half the problem. You have to get someone to talk to you. If you go, I go.”

  Neatly cornered.

  They wouldn’t find the killer there, the kids were the targets, but maybe she could lure out the dealer and set a trap of her own. She couldn’t afford to lose her one lead. She trumped his demand with one of her own. “Only if you can get Jackson to agree. I won’t have your safety compromised.”

  Aaron pushed away from the wall. “Tomorrow at midnight. I’ll let the others know.”

  * * *

  Raven pored over the case files, but didn’t see any similarities between the locations or people. Except that they were all rogues with one exception. It looked more and more likely that the rogues were being infected by something at the rave. It was too coincidental that two of their victims bore the mark of the rave

  The big question was if the rogues were the true targets or if they were the test trials for a potential hit on the conclave. And she didn’t have a damn clue on how to prevent any of it.

  Scotts paused in his walk to his desk when he saw her, then went back to reading the report he held. “Made yourself at home I see.”

  She refused to feel guilty for removing the files from his desk.

  The sweet tobacco smell she associated with him increased when he sat across from her. “So tell me what you found.”

  “What makes you think I found anything?”

  “You’re here. That means you’re searching for something.” He tossed a file on his cluttered desk. “Tell me.”

  Raven leaned back with a sigh. “It’s all speculation. I’m not able to confirm or deny anything.”

  “But...”

  “I think I found a common thread.” Raven refused to give up more until she had something tangible. She wouldn’t have them hunting shifters down like animals without something concrete.

  “You have no intention of sharing.”

  “Not without proof. Not after last time.” Last time meaning when the police had arrested Jackson after killing the man trying to murder her. And she lost him when his pack came to claim him.

  Scotts grunted, clearly not pleased. “We’re supposed to be a team, yet you hardly set foot in this office.”

  “You know as well as I that no shifters will come here. I have a hard enough time getting them in the same room with me.” All except the ones trying to kill her.

  Scotts didn’t say anything more. They both knew it was the truth. Not wanting burn bridges, she made the only concession she could. “I’ll call you when things get heavy.”

  The conversation ended when the phone rang. He put his hand on the receiver but didn’t pick it up. “Just make sure you don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  After another hour, she called it quits and headed home to get ready for the conclave. The animals prowled beneath her skin, restless, as if they understood what tonight meant for them.

  When she pulled up to the house, the last thing she expected to find was Dominic wearing a collar, tags and a leash. She was too relieved to see him safe to scold him for worrying her.

  Even though Taggert stood at his side, she had no doubt Dominic was the one in charge. “He insisted on coming.”

  “So it will be just the three of us.”

  “Four.” London walked out of the house, passed them and sat in the driver’s seat without saying another word.

  “Until your position is accepted by the council, it could be dangerous to show too much support.” Taggert walked down the steps. Dominic picked up the leash in his mouth and followed.

  “Wait.” Dina hurried out, a pair of boots and a jacket in her hands. “If you’re going to battle, you need to be dressed appropriately.”

  Raven automatically accepted the armload. In seconds, she had knee-length high-heeled boots on her feet and strapped into a tight fitting leather jacket that left little to the imagination.

  “Are these really necessary?” She stood, tugging on the jacket. At least the material allowed her to move easily.

  “Oh, yes. Most definitely.” Dina cast a critical eye over her, surveying and judging every angle. With one last twist and a tug on the leather, she straightened. “You’ll do great.”

  Raven was shoved toward her ragtag group, uncertain what to expect out of tonight. She did the only thing she could. She got into the car to face her biggest challenge.

  Claiming her pack.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Raven entered Talons just as night fell, taken aback at the press of people, the place near bursting with the numbers. The draped booths offered privacy between the different packs. Black material clung to the walls, making the room appear more spacious.

  An empty dais was at the opposite end of the room, five seats waiting for the council members.

  Smells burst over her, sharper and stronger than usual at the quantity of people. The combination of shifters’ natural scents, the vampires’ spice, and the overly sweet tang of magic users overwhelmed her nose. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but she only ended up tasting the combination as well. “How can they stand it so crowded?”

  “The place will become even more so later when the council arrives.” Taggert inched closer, his presence easing some of the claustrophobia slithering over her skin, and the need to let loose her power to give them more breathing room.

  Thoughts of Jamie’s brutalized body lingered in her mind, along with the photos from the crime scene. She scanned the room for Durant, the urgency mounting when she didn’t spy him. The attacks were escalating, and she couldn’t quell the dread that it was connected to the conclave.

  That put Durant directly in the path of a killer.

  As if her thoughts conjured him, Durant entered the club from his office. His eyes locked on hers, and he walked through the crowd like they didn’t exist. Everyone either scampered out of his way or was yanked by their companions.

  She really needed to learn that trick.

  “We need to talk.”

  Durant ignored her words and lifted her hand to his mouth. His lips brushed and lingered on the back of her blue gloves. He traced his fingers over her pulse and gazed up at her with such hunger, her breath caught. Memories of them together nearly had her shuffling forward to touch him in a way that was much too inappropriate for public.

  Her animals were observant but silent, assessing the possible threats around them. She expected the moon’s call to be worse but the effects were muted. She was either learning control or her desire was reserved for her pack alone.

  The revelation was a huge relief.

  “Let me escort you to your booth.” He straightened and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. The rest of her group preceded them to one of the few remaining tables.

  Not willing to be distracted, she surveyed the bar. The normal bouncers so familiar to the club were gone, off with their packs. No one stood guarding the doors. “The club is vulnerable to attack.”

  Durant increased his step, hustling her toward the corner booth, most likely to tuck her out of the way before she created a scene. “Take a look at the club. What do you see?”

  Her gaze swept the room and landed on the last man she ever thought to see.

  Rylan.

  He stared at her, hunger and want gleaming in his eyes before he could cover it.

  The vampire was her pack. They’d survived the labs by trusting each other, but their shared past pushed him away. It was her blood. It’d changed him. To most vampires, her blood was like a drug, the power in it offering them an illusion of li
fe.

  Despite the precautions, Rylan had become addicted and kept his distance to protect her, or some such bullshit.

  It broke her heart.

  Rylan gave her a nod of recognition then disappeared as the crowd swallowed him.

  His appearance rattled her. He avoided his own kind like the plague. His presence here made no logical sense.

  Unless he expected trouble.

  She blindly searched the room, trying to regain her composure.

  And spied Randolph studying her with a little too much intensity. That sobered her. She had to step with care or he would ferret out all her weaknesses and use them against her.

  She fought her instincts and turned away from him. Her eyes were sightless as she stared at the corner. That’s when she saw Jackson and Aaron lean forward slightly from their hiding positions, partially protected behind the bar.

  They both gave her a nod, then melted back into the darkness. The damned fools. They could get themselves killed for sneaking in the club.

  That they risked their safety just to show their support should’ve made her furious. Instead, warmth spread through her chest that they would risk everything just to be there for her.

  Raven glanced at Durant and suspected he’d arranged the whole thing.

  “Well?”

  She shook off her discoveries and concentrated on the defenses, or the lack of them. “Vulnerabilities. No one is watching the doors. No one is checking the dancers. The shifters and vampires, not to mention the magic users, were all eyeing up each other as if expecting trouble.”

  “Exactly. The whole room is the extra protection. No one is going to get in here that doesn’t belong. Not if they want to live.”

  “But that’s what worries me. The shifter won’t even know—” He swung her around and seated her, brushing off her concern.

  “Sit. Observe.”

  His dismissive attitude stung. When he strode away, she glanced around the club, wondering which one of the hundred or more shifters in the room could already be a ticking time bomb...literally.

  Cobwebs brushed against her skin as magic skittered along her arms. “I thought shifters hated associating with magic slingers. Why are so many here?”