His weight crushed her. Frantic with worry, she touched his back, running her hands over him, but couldn’t detect any injuries. “Jackson?”
No response.
Terrified she’d really hurt him, she allowed what little power she managed to save to rise up in her. Strands crawled over every inch of him, wrapping around him as if picking up on her concern.
And found nothing wrong.
The connection abruptly died, taking the last of her power with it. She wiggled out from Jackson’s weight. She paced, wondering if she should tell someone, but knew Jackson would hate to have their privacy exposed. And what could they do, anyway?
He looked so vulnerable she covered him with a blanket, unable to bear leaving him so exposed. When she went to smooth back his hair, a tremor shook her naked hand, and she pulled away, afraid the contact would hurt him worse. She backed up another step.
She knew better than to touch someone. She should count herself lucky that she hadn’t actually killed him. Deeply buried doubts rose. Who’s to say what would happen next time? They got off lucky.
What made her think she could ever be normal?
But there was one thing she could do.
Quickly opening the drawers, she grabbed the first set of gloves that met her fingers and yanked them on over her hands. She pocketed her cell and hurried across the room, giving the bed a wide berth. She stepped onto the balcony then leapt over the side, landing on the balls of her feet in the grass. She cradled her ribs as her bruised body protested. As she entered the woods, she dialed Ross.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Jackson would be fine, she assured herself, but she couldn’t resist the urge to gaze back at the house one last time.
* * *
The morgue was empty when she arrived. The guard, Chuck, was nowhere to be found. Her steps slowed, but she didn’t wait for him to return. Observation room one, two and three were glaringly empty.
“Ah, there you are.” A voice said from behind her.
“Shit.” She whirled to face Ross, unnerved not to have noticed him sneak up on her. Her heartbeat skyrocketed. Power hovered under her skin, eager for a confrontation.
“Ross.” She tried to smile, but feared it came out as more of a grimace. There was no danger, but the power refused to dissipate back into her body, fighting her for control. Dying had a way of screwing with her system.
“Jumpy.” Ross smiled pleasantly, already dressed in the paper scrubs. “This place has that effect on people.”
He reached into his pocket and removed two masks. “Here, you’ll need this. It’s another bad one.”
She hesitated, glancing at the door with a grimace of distaste and gingerly accepted his offer. “I hope you don’t get into trouble with Scotts for bringing me down here.” She slipped the mask over her face, coughing slightly at the dust of powder.
“Oh, I don’t think we have to worry about him anymore.”
The room spun, and it took her a while for his words to register.
“Excuse me?” She glanced at him, nearly dropping to her knees when dizziness assailed her. His expression appeared detached as he observed her. A horrible realization sank deep in her gut. Her gaze slid past his shoulder and landed on the empty autopsy table. She clawed at the powdery mask and threw it away, disgusted at being so stupid.
“It was you.” The words were slurred, her lips growing numb. She should’ve connected it sooner. How he knew too much about the paranormal world, how things worked, how he called them shifters instead of weres like most normals. The strength went out of her legs, and her knees cracked against the tile floor when she fell. “You sell shifters to the hunters.”
He took Taggert.
And she was next.
“Nothing so barbaric. I turn the shifters over to the hunters once I’ve learned everything I can from them. I couldn’t let them free afterwards. They knew too much.”
She took a deep, calming breath, hoping that the fresh air trickling into her lungs would clear her head. “You’ve been dosing me with poison.” Chemicals had been rousing her animals, not Jackson or Taggert like she’d originally thought.
“Not poison. You’re too important.” Ross smiled as if enjoying the conversation. “At first, I wasn’t sure if you were a normal, but you reacted to the powder. Not much, but it was enough to trigger my curiosity.
“You see, shifters react rather violently to it. Only alphas are able to withstand the chemicals without being forced to take their animal form. But not you. I had to inject you with the liquid form, and you’re still not reacting as predicted. You’re not human, but I can’t place what type of breed you are.”
Ross paused as if he were waiting for her to supply him with answers. Raven laughed, unable to help herself. “You fool. I can’t change into any animal.”
A smile broke across his face, and a deep ‘oh, shit’ passed through her. “That’s what makes you such a superb specimen. You’re the closest thing to a shifter and human that I’ve run across. You’re the key to my research. Vampire blood can heal wounds, but did you know that shifter DNA can be extracted and used to slow some diseases?
“All the answers are in the blood, but shifter blood isn’t compatible to humans. I need to do more tests. Though shifters can heal incredibly fast, their blood weakens after a few weeks of study. When they have nothing else to offer me, I hand them over to the hunters. It’s a win, win situation.”
“Why?” Her voice rasped painfully, her numb throat fighting her.
Ross lost his smile. “My mother died after a prolonged hospital stay, rotting in a bed, hooked up to machines. She died for nothing. A shot, once a week, would’ve prolonged her life.”
“You were trying to find a cure.” Though his original intent had been noble, she didn’t feel a twinge of compassion for him.
“I wasn’t in time. I didn’t have enough subjects to test. I found a way around that now.”
“By draining people until they’re near death to create the serum.”
“Filthy animals.” His lips curled in rage, his movements grew more agitated and violent as he spread out a tarp on the floor. “Scientists have always experimented on animals.”
He actually believed it was no big deal. “They’re people.”
Images of Ross with a needle in his hand, holding her down and taking her blood exploded through her mind. “You did something to me when I collapsed.”
He nodded as if talking to an associate and not someone he planned to kill. “I wanted a viable sample. By the time I was able to work with yours, the blood had degraded too much to profile it.”
He shook his finger at her as if she were naughty. “But I know you’re different. You’re the key to perfecting my cure. This time I’ll take tissue samples. You heal amazingly fast. I’ll take care not to let you die.” Despite his words, malice gleamed in his eyes. He’d keep her alive, too, until he found his answers.
Ross puttered around the room, dragging out an old black doctor’s bag. He whistled tunelessly, while pulling out a pair of heavy shackles. She tried to rise, but found her muscles unable to obey as if her hands and knees were cemented to the floor.
“Don’t try to run. You won’t make it far. The shot last night at the crash has weakened you, leaving you susceptible. The second dose I just gave you will keep you docile for a few hours.”
Her head snapped up at his mention of the crash. “Where’s Taggert?”
Fear plummeted through her. She didn’t know what was worse, the thought of Taggert being hunted or being the subject of an experiment.
Rage like she’d never known shimmered up her spine. Energy flared under her skin, sizzled, burning away the drug, but it faded too fast to completely flush it out of her system. The trauma over the last few days had taken its toll. If she could just hold him off for a little while longer, then she’d show him what it meant to be part of a pack.
“Your Taggert hasn’t been harmed.” He glanced at her with calculati
ng eyes. “I wouldn’t try anything. If I’m not at my laboratory to answer the phone at ten, they’ll release him, and the hunt will begin. Obey me and he might live.” He smiled slowly. “Who do you think will get him first? The hunters who’d paid for him, or the leashed shifter who craves the taste of flesh?”
Sickness lurched through her. The girl in the woods. The killer who eviscerated the bodies, then buried them to save to snack on later. Ross’s experiments must have pushed her past the limits of her sanity if she’d eat the flesh of her own kind.
A cough racked her again. Her ribs protested but each exhale expelled the powder from her lungs. “You hunt them in the woods.”
Ross pulled a shiny scalpel and small mallet out of his bag, so absorbed in his task that he didn’t bother to face her. “The hunters feel that it evens the odds to let the shifters run in their natural environment. It increases the danger and adds to the adrenaline rush.” He shook his head. “Fools.”
Raven let him talk. If she could remove her gloves, she’d be able to access the energy grid teaming below her. Her clumsy fingers made the task difficult. Frustrated at the lack of progress, she finally just used her teeth to tug the leather over her hand.
Cold cement seared her palm.
Nothing happened. The grid hummed but remained dormant under her demand. She gritted her teeth as panic threatened to overwhelm her. Power fluctuated wildly at her emotions. She pushed past the pain, dug deeper, only to watch helplessly as any power drain back into the floor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold the charge worth a damn.
A kick to her ribs took her by surprise. Pain robbed her of breath, and she crashed to her side on the tarp. She glared at the man who caused this all. “Bastard.”
“Hmmm.” He glanced at her distractedly as he reached for his instruments.
It was now or never.
“You want to know what makes me different?” His eyes sharpened. She’d finally caught his attention. “This.”
She grabbed his ankle. His pant leg did nothing to protect him. She might not be able to give him the jolt he deserved, but she sure as hell could take every bit of energy that made him human.
He gasped as his essence dribbled out of him. His heart slowed. The blade he held clattered to the floor. The urge to keep taking grew, but if she wanted to find Taggert, she needed Ross alive.
And for that insult, the bastard would pay.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“He sets up illegal hunts, using shifters as prey.” Raven had debated long or hard whether or not to go home and get reinforcements. The deciding factor was her promise to Jackson. Also, though it galled her to admit it, she needed help if she had any hope of getting Taggert back. “And I’m afraid if they notice Ross’s absence, they’ll pull up stakes and slaughter those still captive.” Her jaw clenched as she said those words.
“How do you know he’s behind it?” London finished securing the last tie, elbowing Ross in the back of the head when he rose. She understood his doubt. Ross was twenty pounds too skinny for his lanky frame, with thinning hair and an air of weakness around him. He didn’t look capable of capturing a fly let alone so many shifters.
“He bragged. Ross knew how packs ran, and avoided snatching anyone associated with them to avoid suspicion.” She didn’t go into how he tortured his captives for the information.
Dina walked in the room, not gazing at anyone as she paced, her cherry scent a little too sweet. Her words were slow in coming. “Jenkins isn’t ready.”
Raven didn’t say anything at first, swallowing hard. She was determined that this plan would work despite everything that could go wrong. That meant she needed Jenkins. “No one ever is.”
Dina sighed, a defeated slump to her shoulders. “He said he’d do it.”
Raven never expected anything less, well understanding the need for revenge. The cold stone in her chest dissipated a fraction knowing that her friends stood behind her. “And the others?”
“Dominic took Jackson to check Ross’s home as soon as you called.” London peered at her over Ross’s head; something in her expression had him narrowing his eyes. “They left you here to recover. They’ll be pissed if you dare move from this house.”
Relief nearly bent her double to learn that Jackson suffered no aftereffects from her. A large part of her was grateful to have him gone from the house when she’d returned. She didn’t know how to face him after what happened. After failing him. “Do you believe we can wait? If Ross isn’t there to answer that phone, Taggert will be the next body they pull from the water.”
The superior attitude Ross had exuded at the morgue had annoyed and scared the shit out of her. For an intelligent guy, he honestly didn’t understand the magnitude of his crimes. Or his punishment.
“What about him?” London nodded to Ross.
“Leave him here for Rylan. Dina can—”
“I’m going with you.” Her voice was adamant. “If any of my people are still alive, they’ll need me. You’ll be too busy tracking down Taggert.”
Raven tightened her lips at putting another defenseless shifter in danger. She ran the scenario through her head a thousand times, but couldn’t fault Dina’s logic. “Get Jenkins in here.”
A skinny ghost of a man slipped into the room on soundless feet. The paleness of his skin reminded her of the prison they called the labs, the lack of sun, the exhausting tests that left a person so weak that they often didn’t wake up for days, if at all. “Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?”
He was so emaciated, one good wind could knock him down.
“I’m ready. Like you said, I won’t be in any danger. I just have to answer the phone.” A fierce need to be useful entered his eyes, a need she recognized. “Let me do this for you.”
She flicked a glance at London, relaxing slightly at his subtle nod. He’d protect Jenkins if it came to it. “Thank you. What do you need to start the process?”
“I’ll need to touch him.” Distaste curled Jenkins’ lips.
She knew the feeling, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him not to bother. She needed the abilities of a full chameleon who could manipulate both his vocal cords and his body. But what else could he pick up by touching someone, even in passing? She decided she didn’t want to know.
“How long will it take? How long can you hold his form?”
“It usually takes twenty minutes to assimilate a shape. I can hold it for three hours before the integrity degrades. I won’t be able to try again for at least a day.” He appeared apologetic and spoke quickly. “But I’m getting stronger with each shift.”
“It’s a miracle you can do this for us at all. Thank you for being willing to even try.” A chameleon was a rare thing, one of the most endangered creatures alive. So much so that most people thought them myths.
It took closer to an hour for the transformation. Jenkins’ skin bubbled, melted and twisted into the new shape. Bile rose in Raven’s throat. She couldn’t imagine the pain and was thankful the doctors had never given her a transfusion of his blood.
Ross woke partway through the transition. Instead of panic, Ross calmly observed the process, cataloging everything in a way that sent her skin crawling. Her fist curled, and only her will prevented her from stalking over and cold-cocking him into oblivion. No matter what happened, she couldn’t allow him to leave, or Jenkins would never be safe.
London steadied Jenkins when he rose. The first thing she noticed was the height.
He saw her stare and shrugged. “Nothing I can do about the proportions. I can manipulate my flesh like any shifter, but I only have my weight and height to work with.”
Goosebumps crept over her to hear Ross’s voice come out of Jenkins.
“God. That’s uncanny.” Dina summed it up exactly.
Very few shifters were born with the genes to shrink or gain mass, and those few who did were highly prized. It was a trait they’d tried to breed in the labs.
Tingling swept
along her arms, and she lifted her face to the ceiling. “Rylan’s awake.”
Now all she had to do was convince him to take Ross’s blood so they could find his lab.
She’d already searched the office at the morgue but to no end. She highly doubted the guys would find anything at his home. Ross was too smart for that. It could take her hours to pick up a paper trail, but that didn’t guarantee she’d find anything in time to be of any use. Ross didn’t strike her as a stupid man. He wouldn’t hold anything in his name.
“I hear you’ve been stirring up trouble again.” Rylan’s amused voice flowed over her in a soothing wave.
He sauntered into the room, his elegant clothing neatly pressed with a style that could easily pass for a man a century ago. Charm twinkled in his blue eyes, making her heart pitter-patter pathetically. Every time she saw him, she wanted to mess him up. He exuded competence that she could rely on. After she explained what she needed, he’d help her make things right.
“No, absolutely not.” Wounded betrayal darkened his eyes, and she didn’t understand.
“You were able to tell where Cassie had been by taking her blood. We need to know where Ross keeps his lab.”
His jaw stiffened with each word.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t take blood.”
Raven hesitated, but couldn’t let it rest, not when Taggert’s life was at risk. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t take blood from people. Ever.”
“But Cassie...”
“She was already dying. I only did it because you asked.” He glanced at Ross, his every thought completely hidden. “Don’t ask me again.”
Then Raven understood. Her blood had changed him. “You see into their minds when you take blood as any normal vampire, but there’s more, isn’t there?”
Those battle-wounded eyes of his gave the answer.
“Because of me.” Acid churned her stomach and nausea threatened. He’d lived with the affliction for years without a word of blame.
Electric Storm (A Raven Investigations Novel) Page 25