A little snarl curled the side of his lip. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t getting rid of her that easily. She followed, quickly overtaking him and pointed to his blood-soaked shirt. “That doesn’t look like fine to me.”
She didn’t bother arguing further, but continued down the hall to the room he’d appropriated as his own. When she opened the door, she stopped short.
She’d forgotten all about the remodeling.
The crew had done miracles. What had once been an average sized room with four walls was now an oasis that spilled into an outdoor balcony. The space was three times its original size. Exotic vegetation lined the room, leaving only paths for them to roam. She made her way toward the bathroom, trailing her fingers over a fern that stood almost as tall as her shoulders.
The bathroom wall was made of frosted glass cubes, allowing light to shine through. When she opened the door, she gasped to see the ceiling was completely gone, revealing a skylight full of stars. The shower used more of those frosted cubes to form a privacy wall. There was no door. Two majestic showerheads stood waiting to be used. The tub was more like a small pool, different from the one at Durant’s office, but still large enough for a full-sized tiger to laze about. Water fell from the ceiling like a waterfall and landed into the pool. She could all but see him rising from the water, inviting her to join him.
“I thought you might enjoy it.”
She whirled to see Durant leaning against the doorjamb, a peculiar smile on his face. He pressed a button on the wall, and the ceiling grew misty. “Just in case you wanted privacy.”
“It’s gorgeous.” She smiled, but lost it when she smelled fresh blood on him. She bent and peered beneath the twin sinks. Instead of her large box of supplies, the whole bottom counter was stocked with bandages and medicines of every sort.
She grabbed what she needed and raised a brow. “Expecting a war?”
He straightened and strolled toward her. “Pack is pretty indestructible, but we fight and play hard, and often need to be patched up.”
It was a warning.
Raven just snorted. “Pack isn’t alone in their belief that they can do anything.” She advanced toward him. “Now take off your shirt.”
Durant sighed, giving her a mournful look. “Why is it that I need to be wounded to hear those words from you?”
Raven rolled her eyes, ready with a snappy comeback…until he lifted the shirt over his head. Then all thoughts of teasing evaporated. “Good God.”
Not an inch of him was unscathed. It looked like they’d set hot pokers against him, held them there until his skin burned, then ripped the metal away, taking layers of flesh with it. Some spots appeared to be scabbed over, while others still oozed blood and pus. She didn’t know where to touch without hurting him.
She stared blindly at her supplies, then shook her head at how useless they were. “What can I do?”
“There are healing salts under the sink.”
Needing to keep busy, she grabbed the bottle and sprinkled it into the water.
When he reached for the waistband of his pants, she blanched at the thought of them touching him so intimately, but she couldn’t look away from his hands.
She had to know the extent of what they’d done.
But he didn’t move.
When she lifted her eyes, he grabbed her chin so she couldn’t turn away. “It’s not your fault.” There was a twinkle in his eyes all of the sudden. “But if you want to kiss and make it better…”
All humor vanished when he shucked off his jeans and stepped into the pool. If possible, his butt and upper thighs were worse than his back. She didn’t know how he had been able to sit during the long ride home, let alone walk.
Tears clouded her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, ducking her head so he wouldn’t see.
“Raven.”
It took all her courage to meet his gaze.
“You asked what you could do?”
She nodded. “Anything.”
“An alpha’s touch would help.”
It was a statement, but she heard the slight plea underneath. She scanned his body, not able to spot a place on him that remained untouched. “Where?”
A smarmy smile quirked his lips. “I can think of a few places.”
Raven snorted, his comment breaking her paralysis. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” She wandered closer. The tub was more of a whirlpool, the water moving gently.
Durant rested his head against the back of the tub, then closed his eyes.
He didn’t fool her for a second. He watched her through narrow slits, ever the predator. She stood off to the side, uncertain what to do next. His hair was slightly damp, and she tentatively reached out, allowing her fingers to rake through the golden strands, fascinated by the stripes.
She was fiercely glad to have her hands free of gloves, relishing being able to touch him without the barriers. When her nails grazed his scalp, he groaned and leaned into her touch. Allowing the power in her to rise, she gently pushed the energy into him, ready to retreat at the first signs of distress. Much to her surprise, he fell asleep within minutes.
Only then did she realize she didn’t have to wait for the creature to dole out the energy, it had been there and waiting for her. Raven was both relieved and leery of the turnabout, but she had more to worry about than herself at the moment.
Without Durant there watching, knowing what she was doing, she allowed her hands to wander. She brushed a finger along the side of his neck, tracing small bits of unblemished skin so as not to hurt him. She caressed the only spot on his chest without a wound, marveling at the heat of him. Her attention dropped to the water, and she was relieved she couldn’t see much. Feeling like a voyeur, she pulled back.
Only to be pulled to a stop when his fingers ensnared her wrist. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”
Feeling awkward, she blurted out her request. “If you want…if it would help you heal…you’re welcome to sleep in my room.”
Heat scalded her cheeks when he nodded. “I would like that.”
Raven scurried from the room, wanting to smack herself. It was one thing to flirt with danger, a whole ‘nother thing to invite it into bed with you.
Chapter Fourteen
DAY FOUR: MID-MORNING
Raven woke between one second and the next. The last thing she remembered was Jackson striding into the room to take his spot on the couch. Two minutes later, Taggert slipped into bed, careful not to jostle the mattress.
Durant hadn’t been silent or easy to ignore. He boldly strode into the room, a lone towel wrapped around his waist.
Her face heated as she recalled how the towel had dropped to the floor before he eased into bed, and took up more than half the king size mattress. When he snuggled closer, Raven had been mortified all over again by his chuckle.
“You have the sheets wrapped around you so many times, you could pass for a mummy.” Not that he seemed to mind. He tucked his head onto her pillow, inhaled her scent and immediately dropped off to sleep.
Taggert’s hand brushed against her arm. She flinched, afraid how much more damage she could inflict. He tensed at the rejection, but didn’t retreat. When she didn’t brush them away, he relaxed, and then he, too, fell asleep. It took her a full twenty minutes to concede defeat, allow herself to relax and drift off.
And she woke up completely alone.
She closed her eyes, inhaled the smells of her pack and smiled. She scanned her body, pleased to note her power wasn’t completely gone. It hovered just under her skin, dormant, waiting for her to call upon it. She was beginning to suspect when she locked all her power into the vault, she’d done more than steal the creature’s food supply. Now the roles were reversed, the creature had all the power, and it was determined not to end up back in a cage.
Raven wasn’t sure it was even physically possible to lock away her beast without destroying herself in the process. When the creature stretched, Raven’s good
mood fell away. Instead of a small spot in her chest, the creature had slowly spread through her body.
It left her to wonder how much of her would remain once it was done. She contemplated seeking out the creature, but she wasn’t ready for an introduction yet. They guys had told her it was better for her and her creature to come to terms with each other first, and she was cowardly enough to welcome any delay.
She didn’t remember much about the last time the creature had emerged. All she recalled of the aftermath was a path of destruction and blood-soaked snow. She’d blocked the traumatic event, but now she wondered if the beast kept it from her on purpose to spare her.
Not wanting to dwell on things she couldn’t change, she re-examined the events of yesterday. Something still felt off about leaving, just abandoning the witches and innocent familiars to their fate.
Jackson peered into the room, then sauntered in when he saw she was awake. He stopped a few feet away, and his lips compressed, the imposing pack enforcer fully in charge. “I know that look.”
Raven blinked innocently. “What look?”
Jackson sighed, accepting defeat without a word. “I’ll tell the guys we’re going back.”
“Wait!” Raven hastily threw back the covers and rose. “We need to go prepared this time. Have everyone meet in the library in twenty minutes.”
Raven grabbed the first things in her closet, jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. She hesitated over the pile of gloves, then pulled her hand back. She rubbed her fingers together, getting used to the feel of her own skin, the brush of air on her flesh, and the touch of another person. She wasn’t ready to go back to her sterile and lonely life.
She hurried downstairs, but hesitated at the bottom of the steps. The study was only a few feet away, but she found herself drawn to the door under the stairs. The basement used to be her retreat, until it had been taken over by one of her strays…Diggers.
She still wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was a doctor. Because of the labs, she had a natural aversion to anyone who wanted to study her. But he had helped Taggert and saved the lives of two others. If he could help her keep her pack alive and well, he was welcome to stay…as long as he kept his distance from her.
And yet she found herself staring down the dark stairs to the basement.
“You can come down, you know.”
Raven jumped at the voice, her feet dragging with every step down the basement staircase. She was amazed to see the empty space now occupied by a makeshift laboratory, new equipment gleaming under the florescent lights. When he stared at her, Raven shifted uncomfortably. “I hope you found everything you needed.”
He shoved his glasses up on his nose, which made his eyes look bigger, giving him the appearance of a startled mole. He was part Hispanic, if she had a guess, and frighteningly intelligent. He was the first shifter she’d met who wasn’t physically perfect. “Taggert and Dina have made sure I have everything I need. Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity.”
But instead of going back to work, he continued to stare at her, waiting patiently for her to reveal what was on her mind.
“About Taggert…” She didn’t know how to ask if she was killing him.
“You’re worried about the changes.”
Raven shuffled her weight from one foot to the other and could only nod.
“He’s come down here every morning for me to check over, because he knew you’d worry. Shifters are a tough lot to crack. He’s in the best physical shape of his life.”
“But he’s changing.”
Diggers pushed his glasses up again. “Shifters are always changing, adapting to their environment. It’s evolution. Because of our heritage, we change rapidly instead of taking generations for a mutation to show. For us, it could take months or just weeks.”
“But not days or hours.”
He gave it a thought, then shook his head. “Not normally, but that’s not to say it’s impossible.”
“What’s wrong with him?” She braced herself for the answer, not sure she was strong enough to deal with the consequences of her actions.
“He needs to finish adjusting before I can make an accurate analysis.”
She slowly blew out the breath she’d been holding. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. He scarcely resembled the sweet boy she’d claimed at the slave auction. He was bolder now, more aggressive as his beast grew stronger. He didn’t appear concerned, but she was concerned enough for both of them. “What’s your best guess?”
Diggers stared at her with his dark eyes, the compassion in them making her wince. “His beast is rising.”
“But he can’t shift. It will kill him.”
He wiggled his hand. “Maybe. He’s adjusting. He has a strong will and incentive to live now. Being around you will remind him of that. Soon, his body will come to agreement.”
Or die.
Digger didn’t say it, but his meaning was clear.
She gave the doctor a nod of thanks and turned to leave when he spoke again. “Ask him how he feels about the changes before you castigate yourself.”
She peered at him over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“He considers it a blessing. He feels chosen. Like he’s special to you. Most shifters would. You have a unique ability with shifters. You might think you don’t know what you’re doing, but maybe your beast does. You claimed him. You wouldn’t go to all this trouble just to turn around and kill him.”
It was a backhanded compliment, but she accepted it at face value and headed for the study. She halted on the threshold and glanced at her assembled pack for the first time. It was official.
They were now hers.
By choice.
And none of them were the least bit afraid of her.
She couldn’t get over it.
Taggert noticed her first and flashed her a quick smile. She wanted to go over there and brush against him. She wished she could blame it on her creature’s influence, but part of that need was hers.
He sauntered toward her, but she sidestepped his touch, not willing to take the chance. “Didn’t the doctor tell you to stop worrying about me?”
She scowled at him and entered the room. “It’s my job to worry.”
She knew what he wanted…craved…a touch. Pack touched and took comfort from it. To refuse was a punishment. He was no longer the wounded boy. His eyes held secrets and desires and urges, and she wanted to get closer to discover them all.
Taggert stopped pursuing, leaving the choice up to her. She walked past him, nearly made it, when her will crumbled. She couldn’t resist brushing her fingers against the back of his hand as she headed toward the desk. Dominic rose, ready to vacate the seat behind the desk, and she waved him back down. “That chair is as much yours as it is mine.”
Dominic was the unofficial leader of the group of misfits who’d escaped the labs. He kept them together, decided what jobs they should take, and kept them from killing each other. She didn’t know how he’d ended up in the labs, since he had been born into a pack, but there were some wounds that never healed and were better left alone.
He studied her as he resumed his seat, his mop of dark hair at odds with his flinty look. His body was compact, ready to burst into action. “What do you want to know?”
“In the files you managed to salvage from the underground facility, did you ever come across anything that mentioned wild magic?”
She fidgeted, wanting to ask about her own case files. Dominic swore all the files pertaining to her had been destroyed…but not until after he’d read them. He was possibly the only one who knew what she was, what they had been trying to turn her into, and she’d always been too afraid to ask.
Whatever he found must have frightened him, because he’d never mentioned what he learned. She suspected he’d been the one who’d destroyed them to protect her…or possibly make sure no one would be able to create another like her.
There had been whispers about her in the labs, rumors saying she was t
he perfect weapon, but too dangerous to wield, since she had a tendency to kill anyone who tried to control her.
“Do you mean ancient magic?” Dominic slowly lifted his head and pinned her under his sharp gaze. “Very little magic was used in the labs, they couldn’t trust the casters not to wield it against them.” He didn’t offer more.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to ask the question. “Were the tests connected to me in any way?”
Instead of answering, he posed a question of his own. “Why do you want to know?”
She took that as a yes. “I need those files.”
She needed to know if she’d freed the wild magic when she broke out of the compound. Had it been roaming and killing ever since, searching for her this whole time?
Dina, a perky little fox, darted in the room with a tray full of food. Her mouse-brown hair bobbed with her movements, and everyone fell silent when she set the tray down in the middle of the room. No one moved. Though shifters loved their food, Dina didn’t have the knack for cooking, and no one had to heart to tell her the food she so enthusiastically prepared was inedible. “Dig in!”
Everyone looked at Raven to save them. Since she was alpha, she decided to take the hit for the pack. Besides, she was starved. She picked up the first sandwich and sniffed it cautiously. It didn’t smell charred, spoiled or raw.
As Dina watched her with wide, expectant eyes, Raven struggled to put the food into her mouth, and nibbled at the corner. And could’ve cheered when she found the food edible. Quickly snatching two more from the tray, she backed away while the rest dove forward. “Thank you!”
Dina blushed, then smiled shyly. “Taggert has been giving me a few pointers.”
She bounded out of the room, her cherry smell lingering behind. It took less than a minute for the five of them to eat thirty sandwiches. Shifters needed to consume calories to fuel their animal. If Raven didn’t eat enough, she started to consume those around her by stealing their very life force.
“Tell me about the magic.”
Electric Heat (A Raven Investigations Novel Book 3) Page 14