Raven's Revenge: Paranormal Prison Romance (Paranormal Prison Series Book 2)

by Naomi Martin

  When we finish up with the planning, I sit back in my seat and look at her for a long moment. She stares back at me, curiosity in her face.

  “Did you have any questions?” she asks.

  “Yeah, actually,” I say. “Who is leadership?”

  “I don’t know specifics. It’s for security reasons,” she replies. “But from what I’ve gathered, it’s powerful people. Some congressmen, senators, businessmen. Wealthy, powerful, and well-connected people who believe in equality and are willing to do something about it.”

  “Sounds to me like they’ve got somebody on the inside of the Cleansers, though,” I say. “I mean, the level of detail in the intel you get is incredible.”

  She nods. “I assume they do. What’s your point?”

  A small frown pulls the corners of my mouth down. “No point, really. Just an observation.”

  “Well, we should be thankful we do have somebody on the inside, if that’s the case,” she responds. “Anyway, you need to pull a team together. I want you on the road ASAP.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  I snap her a mock salute and head out, my feeling of disquiet growing as I get to my feet and leave her office. It’s something I hadn’t thought about until now, but thanks to Lucas, I realize it’s something I probably should have. If we have somebody on the inside, it’s very possible they might, as well.

  It’s a thought that sends a cold chill through me. Worrying about being attacked and killed from the outside is bad enough. Having to worry about it from the inside, too, is something even worse.

  As I stride down the corridor, heading for the elevators, all I can see in my mind’s eye is the way Lucas looked at me. It fills me with not just an icy dread, but a fiery heat. The thought of him doing something to harm one of my boys makes me want to kill him.

  As I take the elevator up to our suite, I calm myself down. I could be jumping to conclusions here. But I mean to find out one way or the other.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Raven

  “Okay, so that’s it,” I tell them. “We hit them hard, we hit them fast, and then we get the hell out of there. Any questions?”

  I look around the table in the war room, having just finished detailing the plans for our raid for the group. There’s a baker’s dozen of us… twelve of them, I’ve been on raids with before and trust with my life. They’re good people. Dedicated and willing to sacrifice. And then there’s Lucas. I don’t know him, but I don’t like the vibe I get from him. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him.

  I told the boys all about my concerns already. They’re taking them seriously, though I get the sense they also think it’s possible I’m a bit paranoid. And, yeah, that’s definitely a possibility. It’s why I asked them to keep a close eye on him. As a fellow shifter, Gray’s tried to buddy up to him, but so far, Lucas hasn’t been overly receptive.

  Which is still not proof that he’s a traitor in our ranks. He may just be cold and aloof like Dora is. Maybe he’s socially awkward. But it gives me yet another reason to keep tabs on him. I mean, Gray is a pretty gregarious guy. It’s hard not to like him. But Lucas hasn’t shown the slightest bit of interest, or any sort of warmth.

  All through the briefing, I kept trying to avoid eye contact with him. But every time my gaze would slide over him, I would see something in his eyes. I can’t figure out what it is, though. He manages to keep his thoughts or intentions from filtering through his eyes, which is disconcerting. I like to think I can read people pretty well, but Lucas remains a blank page.

  “No questions?” I ask once more.

  There’s silence at the table. I think we’ve all been on enough of these raids that it’s becoming second nature and there aren’t many mysteries left. Our operating plan is usually the same: hit them by surprise and then keep hitting them until there’s nobody left. It’s not like we’re a sophisticated special operations team or anything. We just need to be pointed in a direction and turned loose.

  “Yeah, I have a question.”

  All heads turn to Lucas, who’s leaning against the wall, arms folded casually over his chest.

  “What’s your question?” I ask.

  “Why are we bothering with this nickel-and-dime bullshit?” he asks. “Why aren’t we hitting something big? Something meaningful?”

  “Such as?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not that familiar with their operations—”

  “Then perhaps you shouldn’t speak out of turn,” Zane interrupts him.

  Lucas turns and glares at him, his expression darkening. Zane is the only one of the boys who hasn’t tried to befriend Lucas, preferring to watch him from afar. That’s the way he is with most people. Zane’s never been the most outgoing person on the best of days. He gets on well with Gray and Elliot. I know he loves them as brothers, and it’s as if that’s enough for him.

  “Perhaps you should listen more and speak less, until you actually know what you’re talking about,” Zane presses. “This is not a game and lives are very much on the line, so maybe shut up and try to learn something.”

  Tension crackles in the air as everybody looks from Zane, to Lucas, and back again. The hyper-masculinity challenge being issued is clear and judging by the way Lucas is looking at Zane, he’s not going to let this go unanswered.

  “Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass, vamp,” Lucas growls.

  Zane chuckles softly. He’s never been the type who engages in the sort of macho-male, dick-measuring bullshit some guys do—what Lucas is trying to bait him into right now. Zane isn’t insecure enough about himself to care what other people think of him, or to tailor his behavior to appease them. He’s just who he is.

  “Look, new guy,” Elliot speaks up, “before you run, you should probably learn how to walk first. And maybe you should learn how to take orders before you start giving them.”

  The tension in the room ratchets up as Lucas turns his eyes to Elliot. The crooked grin slips from his face, replaced by a frown as his jaw tightens. I’m guessing Lucas is used to being the alpha of his group, but he’s going to have to learn that here, he is nothing of the sort. He’s no more important than anybody else. And, most of all, he needs to learn that he’s not the one calling the shots.

  “And maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut,” Lucas snarls at him. “When I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you.”

  Elliot chuckles. “Believe me when I say I don’t think I’ll ever need the opinion of somebody like you.”

  The tension grows so thick, it’s like molasses all around us. Nobody is moving. I don’t think anybody is even breathing. Lucas look apoplectic, though, his face turning an ugly shade of purple as he stares at Elliot. The threat of violence is rising with each passing moment.

  “Somebody like me?” Lucas growls. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Elliot nods. “Uneducated, uninformed, and thinks with his dick, rather than his brain.”

  All around me, I hear the sharp intake of breath. I’m not used to seeing this side of Elliot. He’s normally far more reserved. All I can think is that he sees Lucas as a threat to my safety, more so than he let on before, and is pressing him to see what happens. All he’s doing, though, is inflaming an already tense situation. The last thing we need to be dealing with right now is an internal squabble.

  “You want to go outside and handle this?” Lucas shoots back.

  “Elliot,” I warn and give him a small shake of my head.

  He turns his gaze back to Lucas, his face radiating a menace I don’t know that I’ve ever seen before, and he sits down. Gray and Zane, sitting on either side of him, look amused, barely able to contain the grins on their faces. Lucas puffs out his chest and stares at Elliot.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lucas spits. “You’d better not step up again unless you want me to—”

  I round on him, wrapping him tight in a flow of Spirit, then use a weave of Air to lift him from the groun
d and slam him against the wall. Walking over to him, I spear him with my eyes, an expression of pure malice on my face. Nobody threatens my boys and gets away with it.

  “If you want to be part of this, you shut your mouth, you listen, and you follow orders,” I hiss. “Is that understood?”

  He glares hard at me, his face a twisted mask of impotent rage. He struggles against my weaves, but he can’t break them, which only serves to piss him off even more. I channel another flow of Spirit and, using it like a hand, slap him hard across the face. It leaves a bright red print on his cheek.

  “I asked you a question,” I tell him. “As long as you’re on my team, you do as I say. Do you understand me?”

  “Fine,” he finally says.

  “Now say you’re sorry to Elliot.”

  “The hell I will.”

  I deliver another slap, harder this time. His head rocks to the side and his eyes narrow.

  “I said apologize to Elliot,” I insist.

  “Sorry.” He scowls, as if the words taste bad in his mouth.

  I should push him for something that sounds more sincere, but I don’t want to let this get out of control. I gesture with my hand to cut the weaves and Lucas falls to the ground, dropping to his hands and knees. A moment later, though, he stands up and, though I expect him to walk out of the war room, he straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his shaggy hair. He looks at me, not with the hatred I expected, but with something closer to… respect.

  It’s about the weirdest reaction I can think of to a public paddling like that, but I’m grateful it didn’t devolve into more violence. I clear my throat and turn to the rest of the team, whose expressions range from shock to amusement, and the tension that had saturated the room has suddenly dissipated.

  “Any more questions?” I ask.

  “Not if we’re going to get bitch slapped like that,” somebody says, prompting an explosion of laughter around the room.

  It wasn’t that funny really, but it’s like a pressure release valve in the room. Even Lucas is laughing along with them, adding to the surreal feeling enveloping me. I look over at the boys to find Gray grinning, Elliot smirking, and Zane with the usual expression of cold neutrality on his face. His eyes, though, continue to bore into Lucas.

  A moment later, as the laughter fades, the door to the war room opens and Viv walks in. She looks around the room, then immediately lowers her gaze to the floor, spots of color blooming in her cheeks. When she looks up at me, there’s a wavering smile on her face.

  “I was thinking about it and, if you’ll have me, I’d like to come with you,” she says, her voice soft. “Dora said if it would be best for me to join your team.”

  I don’t know if she feels pressure to contribute, or if she’s doing this of her own free will. It makes me wonder if Dora got to her and put the squeeze on. Convinced her that she should join the fight. She told us she’s not much of a fighter, so it seems strange to me that she’d suddenly volunteer.

  As I look at her small, delicate frame, my mind drifts to Kayla. I’ve long thought that people like us should fight. We’ve all got skin in the game, and I’ve been critical of people who choose to sit out, but will reap the benefits of our fighting, bleeding, and dying on their behalf.

  Kayla’s changed my thinking, though. She’s made me see the value in people who don’t actually wade into a battle. Perhaps not everybody needs to be directly in the fight. Perhaps there are people, like Kayla, whose talents would be better utilized elsewhere. Maybe Viv is one of those people, as well.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I assure her.

  “I want to,” she replies. “You all risked your lives to save mine. I feel like I should return that favor. Besides, I’m tired of living on the run. I’d like to live in a world where I don’t have to hide who I am.”

  I cast a glance over at the boys. Gray and Elliot both give me a shrug, and Zane has an enigmatic grin on his face. I turn back to Viv.

  “We’d be happy to have you join us,” I say and turn back to the team. “Okay, that’s it. Be ready to head out in sixty. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  As everybody gets to their feet, Viv is welcomed into the group with handshakes, warm embraces, the spirit of camaraderie beginning to flow. Once everybody is seated again, we go over the mission parameters again, both to catch Viv up to speed and to solidify the plan in everybody’s mind. When we’re finished, I look over at Lucas, who’s still leaning against the wall, his arms still folded over his chest and that crooked smirk still on his face.

  The briefing comes to an end and everybody gets to their feet again. The boys gather around me protectively and it seems as if, for the first time, Lucas realizes that we’re all together. He chuckles to himself as he pushes off the wall. But he gives me a nod, that odd expression of respect still upon his face.

  “See you in sixty,” he says as he walks by us and out of the war room.

  “I don’t like him,” Elliot spits.

  “And you hid it so well,” Zane says flatly.

  I chuckle as Elliot rolls his eyes. Zane gives me a smile and I shake my head at him. Gray though, looks at the retreating form of Lucas, then back to me.

  “He sees you as his leader now,” he says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He challenged you and he lost.” Gray shrugs. “You’re his new alpha.”

  “Great,” I respond. “Just what I always wanted.”

  Gray grins. “Don’t worry, he’ll probably challenge you again at some point,” he chirps brightly. “He’ll probably force you to kill him and you won’t have to worry about him again.”

  “Comforting,” I say. “Thanks.”

  “It’s what I’m here for, babe.”

  “I thought you were here to bring up our collective IQ,” Elliot jabs.

  Gray cuffs him on the back of the head and we all laugh as we make our way out of the war room to get ready to roll. My mind, though, continues straying to thoughts of Lucas, and I wonder about him challenging me. If he really is a plant from the Cleansers, like my instincts are telling me he is, there’s no better chance to take me out than in the confusion of battle.

  It’s a thought that worries me to no end.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Raven

  “That’s an interesting bracelet.” I point to the band of silver on her arm.

  Viv smiles softly and turns it around her wrist, like it’s a nervous habit or something.

  “It was a gift from my mom,” she says. “She gave it to me shortly before they kicked me out of the house after my abilities manifested.”

  I nod, but something tickles the back of my mind. I don’t know what it is, though. Something struck me wrong, but I couldn’t say what. Brushing it off, I consider the girl before me. She’s about the same height as me, with hair the color of honey, green eyes, and a body that’s a bit more on the lean side.

  She’s pretty in that wholesome sort of way, and seems very sweet. Shy and soft-spoken, but sweet. She’s definitely not a fighter; she doesn’t seem to have an aggressive bone in her body. Which bodes ill for our coming raid. I need fighters, people willing to press an attack and kill if need be. I don’t know that this girl can kill if her own life depends on it. How she ended up a panther and not something cute and fuzzy like an otter, I’ll never understand.

  But until I get to know her better, I don’t know that I want to risk her in the field. When bullets are flying and shit gets real, I need people I can rely on. Even if her desire to fight is sincere, I have no idea how she’ll react. She could freeze up. And that could cost lives. That’s something I can’t have. I respect her willingness to come on the raid, but until I know what she’s all about and what her capabilities are, I would prefer if she stayed back.

  “You don’t have to fight, you know,” I tell her again. “You can stay in the vans and not get yourself mixed up in it. I have to be honest, it gets nasty out there sometimes.”

  She
nods and looks down at her bracelet, turning it faster. It’s not hard for me to recognize the look of fear upon her face. But she also seems strangely determined. Almost like she’s trying to prove something to herself. I can see her physically trying to will the nerve to fight into her body. I think that’s a fight she’s going to lose, though. This girl is most definitely not cut out for the fighting life. And, as Kayla has shown me, that’s okay.

  I worry about putting her out there. Worry that she’ll be more of a liability than an asset, and could wind up getting other people hurt, or even worse. Dora said you never turn down somebody willing to fight; you find a place for them. But I’m afraid that finding a place for her is going to make her the wink link in our chain. To beat these guys is going to take our best. It always does. And I have concerns about her being up for the challenge.

  “N-no. I want to fight. Or, at least, I want to learn to fight,” she stammers. “I want to help make a difference.”

  “We’re here,” Coral calls out from the front.

  The van comes to a stop and then we’re all piling out of it and gathering in the small wooded area beside the road. Sweeping my gaze across the team, I find Lucas standing apart from the group, though still close enough to hear. The boys are all standing in a protective half-circle behind me, and the rest of our team is close by. We go over the details one last time before I send them all out to their designated spots with their orders.

  For now, I remain where I am near the vans, the boys and Viv still standing around me. She looks at me, a look of fear mixed with determination in her eyes. She twists absently at the bracelet around her wrist, like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Once again, I’m overcome by the sense of something odd. Something wrong. I don’t know what it is, but it’s really bothering me. I wonder if it’s my intuition telling me Lucas is going to take a run at me tonight, that he’s going to use the fight as his cover to try and kill me.