And gagged, struggling to keep her breath. “Have you called in a hazmat team?”
Ross chuckled at her lame joke, politely continuing to work and allow her time to recover. “Not for this one. The chem panel revealed nothing toxic except for natural decomposition.”
The only way to describe the person on the slab was as a lump of flesh. Raven squinted, unable to tell the species. “Did you test to make sure it wasn’t human?”
More than half the bones were missing. Or taken. The killer was becoming more adept. No bite marks were discernible. Hell, she could barely tell what body parts lay on the slab. The tissue appeared pale. Bloodless. She would’ve said vampire except they don’t tear and eat flesh this way.
Ross handed over the chart in answer to her question. She scanned the pages. “Another water victim?” She didn’t look up as she flipped through the rest.
Ross grunted. “They basically had to strain the stream to find what pieces they could. This is the bulk of it here.”
“The report says the enzymes are from a were. Do we know what kind?” Humans insisted on calling shifters were, short for the horrible movies that showed werewolves as two-legged monsters. It didn’t matter that shifters only transformed to the four-legged variety. The name stuck.
The doctor picked up his scalpel and sliced cleanly through the outer layer of what she assumed was the chest. By the thickness, she would guess male.
“Not, yet. The lab was backed up, so I could only run the quick stick test. I’m assuming feline.”
“Why?”
“Because of this.” He lifted up a portion of the body on his side of the table hidden from view by the torso. Inch long claws dangled from what appeared to be human fingers. Partial transition. Which meant a very strong shifter, as it took years of practice for a shifter to be able to call upon their animal in human form without shifting completely.
At least half of the nails were jagged. Not a lot could destroy the hard enamel of shifter claws created to cleave down to the bone.
But what drew her gaze was the set of industrial shackles clamped onto his forearm. Her own wrists throbbed with memories. The feel of cold metal. The heavy weight. Her pulse sped up. Her breathing grew shallow.
If not for the chem panel in front of her, she would’ve sworn this poor creature came from the labs. But there were no drugs or toxins on the report, nothing to indicate any of the abnormalities the labs inflicted on shifters. “The other bodies were all shifters as well?”
“Yes.” Ross didn’t bother to look up from his examination of the cavity he cracked open.
“Can you show me the results when you receive them?” She needed to get out of there, needed to think rationally. She had to follow her own advice to Dominic and not jump to conclusions.
“Hum-huh,” Ross didn’t pause as he started to pull out and weigh the organs. A piece of pond scum and a congealed lump of blood oozed down the side of the body. Time to leave.
The air grew thin. The concrete floor felt soggy like sand under her weight. She kept her pace measured, her expression unchanged as she trudged toward the door.
Not here. She’d fall apart when she got home. Energy crackled along her bones, her body burning with the need to expel all the pent-up current. It would go for the bodies first. There was no way she could explain to anyone how she could make a corpse breathe and yearn for life.
Damn zombies.
Chapter Nine
DAY FOUR: MORNING
London handed Raven the local newspaper without a word. The sun dimmed on the path as she walked, dread balling in her stomach. She shoved the last bite of food in her mouth, needed to replace all the calories she’d burned recently, the once tasty bread like sawdust.
Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the paper to the front page. The headlines blared: The Police Hire Specialist to Catch Killer; Is It Doing More Harm than Good? Underneath was a picture of Jackson and Scotts’ standoff, capturing the back of her head in the process.
“Shit.” The peace she managed to eke out after a few hours of sleep vanished. The nip in the air didn’t feel refreshing anymore, the chill burrowing under her skin.
London fell into step beside her. “They’re trying to raise an outcry so the legislature will pass the new law for the Regional Paranormal Liaison.”
“Legalizing RPL gives a gun and badge to anyone who’s approved.” Groups would accuse each other of petty crimes. Despite what she said to Jackson, she wasn’t sure this was the right route to take either. “It’d be all out war.”
“Maybe, but it would also give you the right to view any crime scene that involved the paranormal without waiting for an invitation.”
His comment surprised her. “Do you agree with what they’re trying to do?”
He shrugged. “Whether I agree or not doesn’t matter. It’s a ploy to calm the outraged protesters raising a stink. I doubt it will ever pass. There are too many normals who’d object to giving the animals more rights, let alone arming them.”
“But if it passed, would you apply?” She could see him doing a job like that. Or join the special task force, a SWAT team for paranormals.
The big man shook his head. “Too many people. Too many orders. I like my place here. You should think closely about it before dismissing it.”
That surprised her, but she ultimately rejected the idea. “If I apply, they’d require a blood test. I’d be forced to register.” There was nothing either of them could say to that.
The last thing she needed was to be labeled as a conduit in a public database, not to mention her that blood would reveal the mutations in her genes that made her a crossbreed. She wasn’t prepared for the consequences of either, especially if the very people who infected her with the various shifter DNA increased their search to locate her. She was safe right now, hidden in plain view. If she applied, she couldn’t guarantee a public position would protect her.
She pushed away those dark thoughts, along with the insidious fear at the mention of discovery. Thunder rumbled in the distance when the house came into view. Her feet quickened, eager to escape. London opened the front door and disappeared down the hallway to the section of the house he’d claimed as his own. Security central. She suspected he had a fridge in there as well and was tempted to follow when she heard voices.
“Where is she?”
Jackson’s growl carried easily through the kitchen door and shivered through her. The heat of his anger struck her even through the flimsy panel separating them. No doubt she was the person he wanted; he reserved that rough voice strictly for her.
She hadn’t seen or spoken to either wolf since they’d returned from the morgue yesterday. Until Jackson decided to share information about the pack with her, she really had nothing to say to him. She and Dina had spent most of the day yesterday out on the streets, questioning all the rogues they could find about missing shifters. Surprisingly, they responded to Dina, while watching Raven as if she would attack. Funny, since the rogues were supposedly the dangerous ones.
She cautiously stepped away from the kitchen, placing her feet with care. No sound. No trail. The door opened before she’d taken two steps. She froze, hunching her shoulders as if she’d become invisible if she were small enough. Instead of the confrontation she expected, Taggert slipped into the room.
When she would’ve spoken, he held his finger to his lips. She smiled in relief, the knots in her stomach relaxing. Taggert she could manage. Alone without Jackson to interrupt them, he’d give her answers to a few pesky riddles that continued to nag her about shifters.
Taggert trusted her. Knowing that weakened her resolve to use him to get answers. Strangely enough, she wanted to prove his trust was well placed. He’d treated her as one of them since they’d first met. She wanted that so badly, she refused to consider that he’d be in the perfect position to betray her.
The instant she straightened, his eyes widened. He rushed forward, his arms spread wide in an attempt to herd her. The
n she heard it.
Footsteps.
She would know that tread anywhere. Not needing any prompting, she sprinted to the nearest escape with the knowledge they’d never make it in time.
The closet.
She barely snagged the door open when Taggert shoved her from behind. A flash of light was the last thing she saw when the door snicked shut, plunging them into darkness. The lack of light gave her a false sense of anonymity, but any pretense of being a naughty child caught up in a game quickly disappeared in the tight space.
Junk crammed along the walls from the previous owner, jabbing her every time she twitched to put space between them. Plastered against him closer than fur on a cat, every inclination that said Taggert needed protection vanished. All her body understood was the warm male so close and so damn willing.
She swallowed hard, acutely aware of every inch of him pressed up against her, her breasts against the hard wall of his chest, his legs tangling with hers. Taggert didn’t struggle, realizing the futility of it long before her.
“My scent. Can you cover my scent like yours?”
The whispered caress of his words against her ear sent a shiver of delight through her gut. His cheek brushed lightly against hers, almost nuzzling her.
Panic skittered down her spin. He didn’t know what he was asking. To mask him, she’d have to take him into her shields. Open herself up to him. It’d leave her vulnerable. It would also make it impossible for her to pretend their attraction didn’t exist.
“Raven?”
“Right.” She was an adult. She could control her baser instincts. She had to swallow twice before she found her courage. “You might get shocked a bit.”
Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms securely around her. She jumped at the contact, resisting the automatic response to jerk away. The full press of his body set her on fire, amplifying the burning need to touch him back. To arch into him and take what he offered and damn the consequences.
“Hurry.”
When she took a deep breath, his scent infused her, setting off another wave of craving. A delicious heat sank deep in her gut, and she shook her head to clear her mind, desperately trying to remember her purpose.
She grabbed that ephemeral thought and shoved all those delicious sensations away. She refused to examine them, refused to admit to any attraction. She couldn’t allow herself to care for anyone. Not like that. Not again. “You’ll feel something like a curtain of static surround your body.”
“Do it.” His whispered words sent a shiver of doubt tearing down her spine about the sanity of their plan. Then she took a leap of faith and did it.
She opened herself, allowing just a fraction of energy to wrap around him. That was her intent anyway. An electrical storm swept through her, leaving her with one thought. To make him hers. It would be so easy. He was so willing. Her knees shook as she resisted the command.
A rough, animalistic growl vibrated from his chest. The tone hit her body hard. She instantly responded to it with a wave of desire that obliterated any thought but to plunder. The side of his face brushed her cheek, then her neck as if he couldn’t stand not touching every inch of her. A puff of breath on her pulse was all it took to break her damaged resolve.
The muscles of her legs weakened, and she sagged against him, delighted in the way he hardened under her touch, the ease in which he supported her weight. He didn’t feel like the boy she mistook him for on their first meeting. He was at least five inches taller than her, broad in the shoulders, lean in the waist and definitely old enough to know what he wanted if his body was any indication.
He dipped his head, lightly brushed his lips against hers, and she couldn’t find any air left in the closet to protest. A second passed. Two. Then breathing stopped being important when his mouth claimed hers again in a sweet kiss that left her insides a pile of mush. Trembling, she leaned back, embarrassed by her need.
What the hell did they think they were doing? But all that fled when he brushed his body against hers in just the right way to hit all her nerve endings at once. Imagining them both naked, him inside of her while he did that again nearly had her growling at him to not stop.
He rested his forehead against hers, his body shuddering with restraint. When he gently and inextricably drew her closer, she didn’t resist, wrapping her arms around him in turn.
His lips brushed her parted ones, lingering, tasting, testing, oh so temptingly within reach. He pulled the binding holding her hair until the strands spilled around her face. He inhaled deeply. In a rush of need, his hands slid over her ass then lower. She thought he was going to kneel when he straightened abruptly. With his hands behind her thighs, she found herself straddling his waist. Her back slammed against the wall of boxes, and the little rumble of hunger from him came so close to her neck that hot desire pooled between her legs.
Sharp teeth raked lightly down her throat, and her body hummed at such a simple but erotic gesture. She could barely open her eyes, but when she did, she instantly spotted the yellow bleeding the brown out of his gaze.
Not good. Not good at all. Reason reinserted itself. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
She pushed at his shoulders, and he immediately released her. Her feet touched the floor, and she trembled in an embarrassing weak-knee way that threatened to topple her on her ass. His chest heaved, each breath brushed his body against her.
Lightly.
Teasingly.
Ratcheting her need higher, making her wonder why she thought halting was a good idea.
A few kisses couldn’t be bad. Not when they tasted so good.
He pressed his palms on either side of her head and ducked so they were eye to eye. “Please.”
The door flew wide, wood groaned, splintering. An animalistic roar rang in her ears. Light seared her eyes and when she could see next, Taggert had vanished. Raven slid a few inches down the wall of boxes, fighting for composure and against the whimper working its way up her throat, waiting for her head to stop spinning.
The slam of flesh on flesh jerked her upright. She shot out of the closet in time to see Jackson slam his fist into Taggert’s stomach. The man didn’t go down, but came up swinging, clocking Jackson on the jaw. They went back and forth, exchanging blows, the bruises and cuts healing nearly as fast as the punches landed when she finally got her wits together.
“Stop.” She pushed between them and received snarls from them both that raised the hair on the back of her neck. Yellow eyes gleamed, watching as if waiting for her to choose.
“Stay still.” Dominic’s voice was low and unthreatening as he approached. “You move and they’ll pounce.”
“What the hell is happening?” The energy from the two men swamped the room. She’d never felt anything like it. All she wanted to do was soak it up and roll around in it.
Dominic latched onto her arm, his grip unbreakable, jerking her away. Both men kept their gazes cemented to hers. But when Taggert took a step to follow, Jackson leapt. They skidded across the floor, fists pummeling with a force that had her wincing.
“Let me go. They’re going to kill each other.” She struggled against Dominic’s grip. He wrapped his arm so tightly across her chest she could barely hold the panic at bay. The autumn scent she normally found so soothing now felt suffocating.
“This is pack.” He shook her hard, forcing her to watch each blow. “This is how they settle disputes. We’re brutal. We’re vicious. And we’re unbending when someone tries to take what’s ours.”
“What?” The words took the starch out of her, calmed some of the panic licking through her at being confined. The uncontrollable craving to suck in the energy waned the greater the distance she put between her and the wolves. She looked at Dominic, saw his yellow-green gaze, and swallowed hard.
Her mind cleared slowly from the lust-induced euphoria that had invaded her, the one that told her to do what she wanted without care for the consequences.
She had to get away from the
m. She was going to crash and crash hard. “Let me go.” She spat the words. When nothing happened, renewed panic wrestled her for control.
A zap of static crackled through the room. Energy hummed in the walls, getting louder as her agitation grew. All other noise faded. All her senses lay in resisting the urge to sink her fingers into the juice, and just let go.
“Raven. Snap out of it.” Dominic’s words lashed at her, and she came to herself with a start.
Dominic stood three feet from her, his arms held out at his sides, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. His head was bowed to the side in submission, his throat bared. It shook her to see him like that with her, a tough, proud fighter bowing to her in submission.
Shamed gutted her. The lack of recrimination as he cautiously peered at her only made it worse. He just accepted it.
“Your hands.” Taggert stepped closer, no fear in him.
“Stay back.” She felt fear enough for both of them. A light glow surrounded her skin. She saw it. Now Taggert saw it. Could her gift be infecting him like it did the house? The others didn’t notice anything, and she was pitifully grateful for that small mercy.
She retreated a step. Jackson circled, countering the move, boxing her in until her back hit the wall. At the contact, energy from the house poured into her.
“Ground yourself.”
Dominic’s yell sounded small in her ears, her senses overloading with the charge. To ground herself, she needed to connect to something solid. She needed bare earth beneath her feet, but she didn’t think any of the men would allow her to leave, and she couldn’t guarantee their safety if they followed.
Pain swelled in her head, eating along her bones the longer she held herself in check. Her body craved more, building off her panic. She clenched her eyes shut, her fists balled tight at the thought of them seeing her helpless. She reached down into her center, burrowed deep for the last of her strength. The core had welled with power. Beg to be used.
Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel) Page 8