Electric series- Raven Investigations BoxSet

by Stacey Brutger

  But the guys were right, they needed to get out of the morgue…now.

  When the door opened, Gavin stiffened and swore. When Raven shoved her way past the men, she saw a dozen shifters aimlessly walking up and down the street, pretending to be casual…except for when the door opened, every one of them turned toward her expectantly.

  “What are they doing?” Raven stopped dead and eyed the strangers suspiciously, disturbed at being the center of their attention.

  “They must have sensed your nearness.” Jackson spoke softly.

  Durant snorted in derision. “They scent your pheromones and came to press their suit.”

  What they were doing was growing bolder.

  She could practically taste their aggression in the air.

  “We should go before more arrive.” Gavin’s expression was grim, as if he was preparing for battle.

  The others nodded, falling into formation around her as they guided her outside.

  The instant she stepped out of the building, the shifters began to press closer, unable to help themselves, drawn like moths to a flame. Raven sniffed the air, wondering what they smelled…and froze.

  The area was saturated with the familiar taint of death and decay.

  “We’re no longer alone.”

  The men came to a halt next to her a second later, and she scanned up and down the street, trying to pinpoint the threat.

  One or more of the killers had found her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Miss, I need to speak with you,” one of the men down the street called out to her. He looked different from the rest, bigger, more intense, his hair trimmed close to his scalp, but longer than regulation. While the others appeared hungry, he was deadly serious. “It’s important.”

  Jackson grabbed her arm to hold her back and whispered in her ear. “Now is not the time.”

  “It’s important. Life and death.” The guy’s attention never wavered from hers. “Yours.”

  The men bristled, the formation around her tightening.

  “Go.” Gavin gestured toward the vehicle, stepping off the curb. “I’ll draw their attention.”

  Before she could protest, Durant and Jackson hustled her toward the car.

  Gavin strode toward the largest group of shifters and lifted his hands to get their attention. “If you want to earn the attention of the alpha, I suggest you find a different way to do it. She is possessive of her pack. If you harm them in any way, she will never consider you as a packmate.”

  While most alphas used their pack members as chess pieces to be discarded and sacrificed as needed, Raven didn’t operate that way. Pack meant family to her. She’d rather take the hit herself than allow them to be harmed. To her surprise, a few stubborn shifters scowled at Gavin, but most of them backed down.

  Jackson tugged her forward, explaining shifter life. “A few of them think you would be impressed with their prowess if they challenge us. It’s how most packs are run. The stronger and fiercer the fighter, the more valuable.”

  Raven snorted at the idiotic, caveman ways, and he flashed her a quick grin. “Give them time. You can’t expect immediate change after centuries of tradition.”

  An engine revved down the road, and she broke off her retort, spinning toward the sound. The squeal of tires echoed down the narrow streets, and she spotted the car charging toward them.

  They were too far away to slip into their vehicle and escape. A few of the shifters on the street ran toward the car, but much too late to be of any help.

  Raven shoved the men behind her, the two of them flying backward, and she stepped into the middle of the road to draw the attention away from the others.

  They’d have to go through her to get to her men.

  She braced herself for impact just as a large truck charged out of the alleyway and T-boned the car with enough force to push it completely off the road, crushing it against a lamppost with a crunch of metal.

  A woman sat behind the wheel of the car that had tried to play chicken with her, a bloody gash bleeding freely on her forehead where she collided with the steering wheel. But that wasn’t what drew Raven’s attention. The woman’s face was swollen and ravaged by blood blisters, the color a deep red that looked almost purple. What made her image more eerie was her eyes were completely red, blood leaking freely out of them.

  She resembled a demon.

  Rage contorted her features as she stared at Raven, pure hatred burning in her fevered gaze. Never once breaking eye contact, the woman turned her head and spit out a mouthful of blood.

  Raven strode forward, animal instinct taking over, her magic rising of its own accord. She studied the woman trying to pry open her door. When that failed, she slammed her shoulder violently against it, but the truck kept her pinned. The driver was the man who called out to her when she exited the morgue. He had a gash near his temple, but he didn’t move from where he kept his foot on the gas pedal, grimly holding the car in place. Not willing to give up, the woman began to kick out the windshield.

  Raven didn’t wait, purple flames beginning to dance down her arms.

  There would be no fight.

  No battle.

  The bitch tried to kill her men. She didn’t deserve a fair fight. Consumed with the need to protect, Raven placed her hands on the hood of the car. Bolts of electricity lit up the vehicle, creating a kind of Faraday cage. The air crackled as a spark caught fire, and it whooshed as the vehicle became engulfed in flames.

  The paint under her hands blackened, then began to crack and peel. The metal twisted and popped as the heat warped it.

  The woman gritted her teeth, gripping the steering wheel defiantly while she glared at Raven with a hatred that was a living thing. When the flames began to melt the flesh off her body, she broke and screamed as her body was slowly turned into the remains of a charred mummy.

  “Raven!”

  She became aware of her surroundings slowly, the loud whoosh of the crackling fire having blocked everything else out, and she realized that Jackson had been calling her for some time. She reluctantly lifted her hands, horrified to see her fingertips were blackened, the skin cracked and seeping. The emaciated mummy moved, the woman amazingly still alive. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but her jaw fell off instead. It hit her sternum, the impact sending the body crumbling into a pile of dust.

  Raven knew she should’ve been disgusted with herself, but she felt nothing but pleasure at having eliminated the threat, and not the least bit remorseful for the justified kill.

  “Raven.” Jackson edged closer, then cupped her hands in his, not even hesitating to touch her even after she just lit someone else up. She studied him as he clucked over her hands like a nervous hen. He had a few scrapes and bruises from where she’d thrown him away from the road, but he was already healing. Durant was also a little banged up, but he stood next to Gavin, keeping the remaining shifters at bay.

  While they appeared eager for her attention before the attack, the shifters were now almost fanatical about reaching her. Apparently, the stronger the alpha, the more the shifters were attracted. Many of them had never seen her in action before, but instead of being afraid of her ability, they cheered.

  She expected the magic to lash back at her, angry at being denied its freedom, but the only pain she felt was a slight irritation and ache in her hands.

  The truck door creaked open, and the man who had tried to talk to her before stepped down from the cab. The man didn’t advance, patiently waiting for her to decide whether he was friend or foe.

  He smelled similar to the other super soldiers—the striking difference was the sanity that shone clearly in his eyes. When she didn’t attack, the man nodded. “Do you have time now?”

  Raven glanced around the street, expecting to find more soldiers waiting to ambush them. She picked out two more people with military bearing, but they kept themselves at a respectful distance, their altered selves clearly under control.

  While her group was keepin
g the others at bay, the shifters were slowly inching closer, and she shook her head at the soldier man. “Not here.”

  She spotted the three street rats who had tried to stop the vehicle and pointed at them. “You, you, and you. Come by tomorrow and talk to my man Taggert.”

  She turned on her heel and headed toward the car. Without a word, her men fell into step beside her. In under a minute, they were in the vehicle and headed back down the road.

  It wasn’t long before the lights of the truck filled the cab, and she slumped against the seat in defeat. All she wanted was to go home and be with her mates, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

  The cab was silent, and she had the sinking feeling that the men were too furious to speak. “Look—”

  “Don’t.” Durant’s voice was nothing more than a deep rumble that made her want to scoot farther down into her seat, and she snapped her mouth shut.

  “Are you sure it was a wise decision to bring the others back to base?” Jackson asked from where he sat next to her, his leg brushing against hers as if needing the contact.

  Then she grimaced, realizing that she was triggering the mating heat in him.

  She resisted the urge to pull away, knowing that it would make it worse for both of them.

  And truthfully, she was sick of keeping her distance.

  She missed her pack.

  “Raven?” Concern darkened Jackson’s face, and she flashed him a quick smile to cover the embarrassing way her mind had wandered.

  “We needed to get off the street. We were too vulnerable, attracting too much attention.” Raven glanced at Durant. “Call Griffin and see if he can send out a cleanup crew to take care of this mess.” She would do it herself, but she knew she would’ve fried the phone the instant she touched it, her emotions too unsettled.

  Brilliant gold eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, then he handed over the phone to Jackson, clearly beyond speaking. He drove with controlled chaos, his aggression barely contained as he swerved in and out of traffic.

  Raven nudged Jackson’s arm. “Tell Griffin and Randolph to leave and send away any other nonessentials. Keep the rogues away from the house. I want the outside guards invisible.”

  Jackson nodded and dialed.

  Durant glanced at her again, his severe frown forbidding. “It could be a trap.”

  Raven didn’t disagree. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  The rest of the ride was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Jackson grabbed her wrists, gently pulling her hands into his lap, studying the charred remains. Her skin was pitted and raw. Deep veins of black streaked down her fingertips. The ends looked as if she’d dipped her fingers in tar.

  “Call your flames.”

  She immediately shook her head, wincing at the thought of heat touching her damaged hands.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, and she couldn’t resist the silent plea in his whisky eyes.

  He only ever asked her for one thing…to be a part of her pack…and he’d proven himself again and again. She trusted him with more than her life. Her ragged breathing slowed, her heartbeat steadied, and she gave him a jerky nod.

  As soon as he let go of her hands, she braced herself for the pain and called up the flames. Tiny sparks of current jumped along her fingers, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the sting. She waited for her skin to begin to char, waited for the damaged area to spread down her fingers, but she refused to drop her hold on the flames.

  To her shock, strands of electricity licked along her injuries, and the only pain was from her body rapidly knitting itself together. Ten minutes passed before the flames finally dimmed, then seeped back into her flesh. She rubbed her fingertips together, the once-deadened skin overly sensitive. “How did you know?”

  “They’re electrical burns. Contact burns. Your power didn’t injure you, conducting it into the metal did.” Jackson grabbed her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the backs of her fingers.

  And she couldn’t help but trace her fingers along his lips, marveling at the texture, able to feel his breath, hear his heartbeat, the simple touch sending desire pooling in her gut. Even the smallest intimacy made his eyes dilate and darken with lust, and a tortured groan vibrated in his chest.

  He carefully pulled her hands away, firmly placing them on her knees, trapping her fingers under his when she moved to touch him again. She stifled her sigh at being denied, but accepted his decision and settled for weaving her fingers together with his.

  He gave an appreciative hum under his breath, tightening his grip, content to simply hold her hand.

  At least for now.

  The heat raging in her veins cooled slightly at his touch, easing the need to crawl into his lap.

  When they pulled up to the house, Taggert and London stepped out of the building to stand guard, their eyes hard as they surveyed her. Raven glared at Jackson, struggling to untangle their hands from his persistent grip. “You told them.”

  She told him to warn them they were having guests, not that someone had tried to kill her.

  As the others stepped out of the car, he gave her an unabashed shrug, completely unrepentant. He squeezed her fingers gently, then released her, trailing his hand up her arm, and the desire he tamed came roaring back before she had a chance to curb it.

  Bastard.

  He used her distraction to exit the vehicle, taking up guard next to the others, and she shook her head at how easily he could manipulate her.

  She couldn’t really blame Jackson for spilling the news. Hell, she practically told him to evacuate the house. She’d invited danger home, and she was grateful that he took the precaution.

  The men stood next to her as the truck pulled up behind their car. When the doors opened, three people exited the cab—two men and a woman. They stepped in front of their truck, then stopped, waiting for orders, knowing better than to make any moves.

  Something about the tension in their bodies, the loose way they moved was sickeningly familiar.

  “You’re soldiers.” Her stomach twisted upon itself. “Private or government?”

  But she feared she already knew the answer.

  The government was actively pursuing ways to eliminate paranormals.

  It was only a matter of time before the fight spilled onto the streets.

  The female coughed, a hacking sound, as if her lungs were turning liquid. The second man flinched at the sound, barely noticeable, but it was telling. They were dying. The man in charge lifted his hands. “We saved your life. I think that earns us an invitation inside, an exchange of information. Your people won’t survive without our intel.”

  Raven hesitated. She sure as shit didn’t trust these people, but the man was right. He’d earned the right to be heard. “Very well, but if harm comes to anyone under my care, I will take it personally.”

  The man gave a firm nod. He needed something from her, and until he got it, her people were safe…for now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They ended up in the library. Thankfully, Griffin and Randolph had followed instructions, but everyone else crowded in the small space, much to her annoyance. The place smelled of humans and death, the combined stench emanating from their visitors.

  “You’re dying.”

  The leader nodded, the three of them standing at attention in front of her desk. “As you’ve noticed, we’re soldiers.”

  Raven waited for him to say more, but he remained frustratingly silent. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

  “A cure.” The reply was curt, as if he suspected she was keeping it from him.

  “And you think I have it?” She raised a brow, but her insides churned with dread.

  He didn’t answer right away, then he shook his head. “No, but I think you know how to save us.” He ran a frustrated hand down his face, exhaustion breaking through his tough exterior. “My men are dying, and I believe you can help.”

  “Help the people who are tryi
ng to kill us?” Rylan straightened away from the wall, his question a deceptively silky whisper, not bothering to hide the predator rising in him.

  The soldiers stiffened, one of them even going so far as to growl at the threat before the leader swiped his hand through the air, cutting them off. “Not all of us want you dead.”

  “Only because you think she has the cure.” Durant was sprawled out in his normal chair near the desk, his invisible tail all but swishing in irritation.

  “Enough.” Raven glared at her men, and they immediately quieted. “We’re not getting anywhere by avoiding the subject. Tell us what happened to you or leave.”

  “They will kill you.” The female spoke for the first time, the venom in her voice harsh.

  “Maybe.” Raven smiled, not feeling friendly in the slightest. “But you’ll be dead by then.”

  The men stiffened, and Raven waved a hand at them. “That’s not a threat. You’re free to go at any time. You assisted me tonight, and I’m grateful, so you get a pass to leave unharmed. But all three of you are dying, and you know it.”

  The leader had pale, sharp green eyes, his face chiseled and tanned. His hair was a bit longer than a standard buzz cut, his muscles honed by use. Military was in his blood. The lean man next to him was similar. His hair was longer, with an unruly curl, his frame lean, but strung with muscles, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. She bet people often underestimated him.

  The woman was no less rigid, no doubt having worked harder than the others to earn her place on their special ops team. Her hair was short and slicked back. The group moved as a unit, obviously having worked together for years. The woman was short, her muscles honed to do just one job…kill. She had the grace of a dancer, which no doubt served her well in her occupation.

  The leader scowled at the girl, and she gritted her teeth, but relented with a short nod. The other man didn’t hesitate, his eyes locked on the female as he gave his permission. The soldier turned forward, his shoulders pulled back sharply.