Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel)

by Brutger, Stacey

  Rylan stepped back, his all black eyes watching her with such emotion her heart ached. While she watched, he lifted his hand to his face and inhaled the scent of her blood. Then he was gone, circling the back of the vehicle.

  Taggert was at her side, buckling her into the seat, cradling her hand in his. When she tried to draw away, he grumbled low in his throat in a not even remotely human sound and tightened his grip.

  Unable to focus on him and the pain at the same time, she turned to Rylan when he got in the car. Work. She had to focus on work for fear she’d cry at the way her messed up life was falling apart, taking her friends with it. “What did you find?”

  “Nothing. Whoever it was had disappeared. I smelled lightning, burnt hair, and a lot of your blood.” He gave her an accusing glare from the rearview mirror, his reflection didn’t dim its potency. “The scent of whoever was there was so faint, I couldn’t get a lock on them.” He started the car and had it in gear when Jackson opened the door and jumped in.

  “No one followed us.” They took off.

  Both the men in the front faced straight ahead, their silence more stifling now than on the ride there. The trip home was vague as she wavered between full consciousness and the hazy lure of darkness. She came to herself when the engine rumbled to stop and someone opened her door.

  She hadn’t placed a foot on the ground when the front door burst open and Dominic and London were hurrying toward them. “Why the hell didn’t you call?” His words trailed off when he caught sight of her. “What happened?”

  Without waiting for the others, he clasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. The muscles in her back protested the abrupt movement. Ribbons of fire shot down her spine and into her legs. His grip flexed painfully on her hands when some of her energy splashed over on him, but he refused to release her.

  “Attacked.” She couldn’t say anything more as she battled for breath. The muscles around her ribs protested each inhalation.

  “Screw this.” Jackson went to pick her up and found London blocking his way. Jackson was taller, but London had the weight of pure bulk to back him. “Get out of my way.”

  “Stop acting like boys.” She didn’t need this now. When the stand-down didn’t break, she debated leaving them to slug it out. With a deep breath, she released Dominic’s hand and took a staggering step toward the combatants. Anger shut out some of the pain, and she relished the feeling, embraced it.

  Taggert stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

  “Move.” Her quarrel wasn’t with him. She didn’t want to hurt him more than she already had. Some of the energy began to build again, begging to be released. What better way than a fight?

  “He’s worried.” He ducked his head a little to meet her gaze straight on, slightly baring his neck. “He has a right to be worried.”

  The hot air of her anger deflated a little and that only made her crankier. “Do you guys think we could take this inside? I need to call Scotts, not to mention I desperately need to wash up before heading back out.”

  All eyes latched onto her at her statement, stopping the argument dead. With one painful step, then another, she headed toward the house, waiting for the explosion from her troop of overprotective goons. They knew as well as she did that they needed to go back. Something was out there killing. Not to mention the issue of Cassie’s missing informant still hadn’t shown up.

  Taggert drew near, and though it shouldn’t, his presence easing the tightness in her chest. His touch was surprisingly comfortable when he scooped her up in his arms.

  Skin touched skin.

  A hiss escaped him, quickly drowned out by her groan of pain.

  He instantly halted and lowered her. Once her feet touched the ground, her knees threatened to buckle, and she clung to his shoulders. Taggert’s arms slipped around her hips, his hands cupping her ass. When she would’ve protested, he nudged her with his chin.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist. I’ll get you upstairs.”

  Raven hesitated then glanced at Rylan. “You’ll stay?”

  He nodded, his face like granite, his chest unmoving, every inch the vampire. She winced to see her blood liberally coating his shirtfront. The drive home had to have been torture. As if he read her thoughts, he turned away. “I’ll make a few phone calls. I’ll see you after your shower.”

  Raven faced Taggert, looked at his young face and felt a twinge of conscience, then shoved it aside for practicality. The instant he lifted, she wrapped her legs around him. And jerked, startled by the arousal she found pressed intimately against her.

  When she loosened her legs, Taggert tightened his grip, avoiding her gaze. “Ignore it. That always happens around you.”

  Those were the last words he spoke as he mounted the steps. Raven bit her lip and thanked God for the pain to distract her. The last thing she needed was to feel desire for him. Worse, to have him guess how he made her feel. That way led to disaster.

  Jackson strode past them. She heard the door to her room open, then water splash in the shower. She burrowed her face against Taggert’s chest at the pain she knew would come.

  “Phone call first.”

  There was only a small hiccup in Taggert’s stride as they neared the bathroom. “After. We need to clean your wounds.”

  Raven swallowed hard and admitted the truth she wanted to hide from them. “I don’t think I’ll be conscious later.”

  Jackson voice rose above the beat of water. “Dominic is handling Scotts.”

  No more stalling. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath...as much as her body allowed. “Lower me.”

  Jackson took control and spoke. “Your legs won’t hold.”

  Something in his voice let her know that her back was worse than she’d imagined. It couldn’t be a good sign it had grown numb. “Cut my clothes off.” The only sound in the room was their breathing and the shower as his claws took quick work of her clothes.

  Although they tried to be gentle, blood had already sealed the material to her skin. “We’re going to have to let the water soak the material. If we pull it off, the wounds will rip open.”

  Raven nodded, unable to speak above the knot in her throat. This would hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. She laid her forehead against Taggert’s chest and braced herself. She would’ve protested Taggert’s prolonged contact with her blood, but she feared the damage was already done to the both of them. He craved her touch a little too much; already saw her energy when she worked with her gift ever since that first unguarded touch at Talons. Even with her power burned away for the time being, the best thing for both of them would be to wash quickly.

  The lukewarm spray hit Taggert’s back, the water inching closer, sloshing over his shoulders as he tried to protect her. He turned slowly, the agony taking forever as it burrowed into each of her wounds. Fire erupted along her back, and the blessed numbness wore off.

  Raven couldn’t prevent the tears that fell and coated Taggert’s shoulder. She gritted her teeth, refusing to bend, refusing to break and howl with the pain. By the time they turned the shower off, she was exhausted and barely clinging to consciousness.

  Taggert lowered her legs slowly, each movement a new torture for her. Weaving on her feet, she felt Jackson cut away her pants. Both politely turned their heads when they tucked her into bed on her stomach. The cover rested low on her back, the last thing she felt was a brush of lips against her unmarred shoulder as she succumbed to darkness.

  The sound of the shower turning off woke her a little bit later. Jackson rested awkwardly in the chair next to the bed, those whiskey eyes of his slitted, watching her as he pretended to sleep.

  A shadow by the bathroom drew her gaze, and she nearly choked on her breath when Taggert strolled out with a towel so small it barely clung to his waist. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, fearful that if she blinked, she’d miss seeing the towel slip.

  His chest was lean and roped with muscles and so smooth she wanted to touch it to see if his skin was as hot
as it looked. Though he didn’t glance at her, she’d swear he knew she was watching. His movements slowed.

  And he dropped his towel. Her eyes grew dry, and she blinked once. As he put on his clothes, he managed to turn so she saw every inch of him. Then she saw his back. Healed. Each scar, each mark, healed. The heat of a blush filled her cheeks, and she jerked her head away. And met Jackson’s amused gaze. “Pack is very comfortable with each other and their own nakedness.”

  What an understatement. She distantly heard a drawer open, but refused to turn and be drawn in further. Jackson stood, his gaze locked on hers, and pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles of his body flexed and moved in such a sensual way, she could feel her body warm despite the throb of pain in her back.

  She felt ambushed. She closed her eyes, released a shuttering breath and vowed not to open them again until she was alone.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Watch over her.”

  The instant the door closed, Raven pushed herself up by her arms, dragging the blanket around to cover her nudity as she sat. “Help me dress.” She couldn’t do it on her own, and it galled her that she had to ask for help. It would be safer for everyone if she slept in the basement.

  The bed dipped behind her as he got in beside her. She stiffened but didn’t turn. When she tried to stand, she found the blankets trapped by his weight. Either she rose naked or she remained caught.

  Trapped.

  Tightness invaded her chest, her breathing grew ragged. She could almost feel the shackles click into place around her ankles and wrists. Dropping her arms, she let the blanket fall.

  Raven straightened as much as she could, her pride wrapped around her as she shuffled to the dresser. The temperature in the room rose. She felt his eyes trace along her slim curves and tried her best to tell herself slow and steady and she’d be free.

  Jeans were out of the question. She snagged a pair of shorts and slipped them over her feet. By the time she was done, sweat coated her body and rivulets of blood dripped down her back where her wounds had torn open.

  The door to the bathroom opened again, the shower still running. “What are you doing?”

  Raven didn’t look at him, no need to when she could hear the lazy tone of his voice. Any movement would only aggravate the way the room was trying to twist itself about her. Her throat had gone dry. With painful determination, she grabbed a shirt, pushed her arms through the sleeves, but couldn’t force herself to lift it over her head. She needed another minute to guarantee she wouldn’t pass out.

  She sensed movement and despite the pain, couldn’t prevent herself from tensing. “Don’t.”

  “Here.”

  Jackson held out one of his plain button-up shirts. When she glanced at his face, none of the humor or cruelty she expected to find was there. His face was respectfully averted from her body.

  “The wounds would heal better if you left them open to air.” Spoken from experience.

  “They’re already healing.” The wounds itched as her body knitted itself together. Though the damage was extensive, she’d be healed by morning if she shut down. Instead, the slow healing racked her body with waves of pain she couldn’t suppress. It left her vulnerable but conscious. No one could sneak up on her. “It would be safer if I slept alone.”

  By the time she managed to untangle herself from her shirt, she was panting. Admitting defeat, she allowed Jackson to slip the sleeves over her arms, wincing at the thought of leaving a trail of her blood on his clothes.

  Not once did he touch her. Not once did he fumble or cause her pain. The ease with which he accomplished it let her know this wasn’t the first time he’d dressed a woman. She couldn’t help wonder who she was, but ignored the bite of curiosity. And if she was honest, a little tug of jealousy.

  Raven turned to the door and found it blocked by Taggert. “Move.”

  He shook his head, his gaze steady on hers. There was no way she could elude him. Without her usual control, any power she used could kill him. She couldn’t take the risk.

  “It’s almost morning. Sleep. We’ll stand guard. Our nearness should help accelerate the healing process.” Jackson picked up a pair of pants from the floor and tugged them on. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before she saw all that God had gave him. There was something about all the muscle, all that strength and knowing that every inch of him was there to protect and keep her safe.

  They wanted her trust. Could she do it? Could she open herself up to them knowing that it would be more painful when they left her?

  She looked at them, saw all the beauty and strength, saw the aching loneliness and the need to be needed.

  They were worth the chance.

  Allowing herself to be led back to bed, she gingerly settled herself on her side, closed her eyes, and coaxed the leftover energy snug around her body. A deep groan of pain escaped as her back muscles constricted, protesting the swiftness of the change. Power snapped along her skin then sank deep, deeper, until her bones resonated with it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  AFTERNOON

  Raven woke deliciously warm, the smell of sunshine and outdoors refreshing. Taking care to keep still, she cataloged her injuries. Her power level was dangerously low. The need for energy, like an addiction, twisted through her. Her body ached, but the open wounds on her back had closed, leaving deeply bruised tissue as a reminder of yesterday’s events.

  Her concentration broke when the bed beneath her swayed.

  As in breathing.

  Her eyes popped open to find herself face to face with Jackson. The beautiful whiskey brown color had bled completely from his eyes, leaving her with the brilliant yellow eyes of his beast. She didn’t feel threatened, but she did sense its curiosity. Funny thing, she wasn’t sure if that was much better.

  “Ah, morning.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and wondered if she drooled on him when she used him for a pillow. How embarrassing. She must have rolled over to the closest source of heat and cuddled right up to him.

  “They’re healed.” Taggert words whispered against her skin. A cool hand trailed down her back. Nerves twitched. At some time during the night, her shirt had worked its way up. When she tried to ease away, she realized her legs were intertwined with Taggert’s.

  A rumbling growl, a vibration more than a sound, came from beneath her. Taggert didn’t pull away, but he did stop moving. Raven slowly turned and found Taggert’s gaze locked with Jackson’s. The curious expression from Jackson was now replaced with a look of pure ownership. A hint of fang peaked from between his lips.

  “Well, if you two are busy, maybe you’d both shove off and let me get out of bed.” The heat that poured off them pooled in her until every joint ached. The urge to grab it and soak it all up trickled through her. Taking a deep breath for patience, she waited for Taggert to untangle his legs from hers. The instant she was free, she scooted down the bed. No way in hell she would try crawling over either of them. Not in their current mood.

  What was she thinking? Not ever.

  Just when she thought she was free, Jackson snagged her wrist and sat, pulling her up with him, dragging her along his body. A shiver raked her at the feel of him so close, pressed up against her so intimately.

  “Don’t.” The really scary thought was that she wasn’t sure if she was protesting or asking him not to stop.

  “You’re not leaving until I see your back.”

  In normal circumstances, she would challenge him for his audacity. But there was something in his eyes, something vulnerable. If she didn’t allow this, he would tuck himself away and not open up to her again.

  “Let go.” His grip tightened for a fraction, his eyes narrowed. His muscles bunched, preparing to wrestle with her to find out what he wanted to know.

  She wasn’t used to all this physical contact. The reactions flittering through her body confused her, and the urge to linger and brush against him and see if he tasted as yummy as he smelled grew. She wasn’t sur
e she liked the change. She’d always been so focused on control; she never noticed how it felt to be so close to someone without having to worry about their safety first. “Let me up. You can’t see from this direction.”

  A startled squeak caught in her throat as she found herself pulled across his lap and draped over his legs. Cool air met her skin as he drew up the back of the shirt she wore. “Hey, I said I’d show you.” She tried to squirm around to glare at him, but stilled when she felt the hard press of his body’s reaction against her. Whoa. Way too much information.

  Her heart leapt in her throat as he ran his hand lightly across her back. His palm nearly covered her from side to side.

  Pinned.

  Goosebumps broke across her skin. A gurgle caught in the back of her throat.

  She needed air.

  In a space of seconds, she found herself crouched across the room with no idea how she got there, struggling to maintain her footing. Something surrounded her core where she kept her power. Something so bitterly cold, she lost her breath. The large beast blinked lazily, the creature so very different from her normal animals. It slowly twitched its large tail back and forth before curling it around herself again. When she’d let her guard down, the beast must have awakened.

  “Raven?”

  She didn’t wait for a discussion. Dashing out of the room, Raven barreled down the hallway, her feet pounding on the hardwood. She grabbed the railing by the balcony on the way downstairs. The wood creaked ominously then broke under her grip.

  Off balance, she tipped over the edge. Gravity took hold. A strangled scream gurgled in her throat as she caught the moldings. The railings plummeted below her. The loud smack made her jump. She glanced down to see jagged spikes of the wooden spindles pointed up as if waiting to impale her. Her grip slipped, and shards of pain erupted along her back, her muscles protesting the abuse as she dangled by one arm.

  The power in her fluctuated wildly, dimmed, practically dissipating, leaving her power useless to help. She would’ve tapped into the house, but she couldn’t risk accidentally ripping Rylan from his sleep. Vampires were vulnerable during daylight, their powers at their weakest. She refused to be responsible for putting him in danger. She witnessed too many vampires die when awakened from their slumber.