Electric Moon (A Raven Investigations Novel)

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Electric Moon (A Raven Investigations Novel) Page 10

by Stacey Brutger


  Everyone filed into the kitchen behind them. The wall of glass was dark, reflecting the too silent room back at her. The violence so prevalent in shifters lurked close to their surfaces, ready to erupt if she made the wrong move.

  Jackson leaned against the wall, muscles tense, ready to explode. He crossed his arms as if he didn’t trust himself not to toss her over his knee.

  Taggert set about making tea, though he knew that she didn’t drink the stuff. The action calmed him, so she kept her protests to herself.

  “You’ve shown you can’t be trusted with your own safety.” Raven swiveled in her seat at Durant’s comment. He opened the fridge, slamming around inside as he wrestled ice cubes free from the freezer. He piled the cubes onto a rag, forming a small mountain of ice.

  “I—”

  “You will never be alone without a chaperone.” He roughly wrapped the towel and came toward her, a number of ice cubes escaping like mice to hide under the recesses of the cupboard. “Even if you have to go to the bathroom, one of us will stand guard by the door.”

  “That’s not necessary.” She thought he’d plunk the haphazard icepack in her outstretched hand. Instead, he placed it to her jaw with a gentleness that shouldn’t have surprised her. The cold burned against her skin, and she clenched her teeth against revealing any reaction for fear she’d set them off again.

  Durant lifted her face to his. “Isn’t it? You’re in charge of protecting that kid, Aaron. How can you protect him without being here? If something happened to you, everyone in this room would be at risk.” He dropped his hand, but kept the icepack against her skin. “Explain to us how it’s not necessary.”

  “Did something happen?” Dread tightened her chest.

  His eyes flashed gold at the question. He leaned in closer, his jaw clenched so tightly, she feared he’d hurt himself. “No one could find you.”

  The kitchen fell silent. Raven searched their uncompromising expressions, and her shoulders slumped. They were in complete agreement. Part of her appreciated their concern, but another part found it stifling. A shiver worked down her spine at the possibility of being caged again. It didn’t matter that their prison was made out of concern instead of hate. “You’re treating me as a helpless female, not an alpha.”

  “Then damn well act like one!” The roar echoed in the room.

  “Do not pretend like I’m just a shifter. My power gives me an edge. I will not stop working my cases because you fear I might be harmed.”

  “And I don’t expect you to. All we’re asking is not to take any chances until after your pack status has been approved by the council.”

  They weren’t going to budge. To make it worse, a small part of her agreed. “Fine.”

  There was a pause of stunned silence. A contented rumble poured out of Durant now that he’d gotten his way. He angled her head in the light to get a better view of her injury. “Now tell us what happened.”

  “Two kids decided to have a little fun.” Raven shrugged off his hold, ignoring the growl of upset. “My car took the brunt of the attack.”

  “What did they want?”

  “They didn’t say. Warning me off the case. What else could it be?”

  “Which case?” Aaron opened the door and entered, a casualness to his walk that said he’d made himself at home and wasn’t above eavesdropping. Though well into the night, he hadn’t changed as if he, too, had been waiting up for her. “The police case or mine? Mother has a habit of hiring rogues to do her dirty work. Were they trying to scare you or kill you?”

  Raven wondered that herself. It seemed almost too simple that his mother could be behind both. She was definitely capable of it. She had the ruthlessness for it and access to drugs. But the woman didn’t strike her as being smart enough to pull it off without leaving some clue that would lead back her.

  Raven kept her suspicions to herself. She needed solid proof first. “They called me Region, so I’m going to say the police case.” She didn’t mention that if she’d fallen, she had no doubt they wouldn’t have stopped their assault until she was dead.

  Aaron didn’t appear completely convinced, but accepted her answer.

  One important fact stopped her from arguing with them more.

  If someone was after her, they could’ve easily gone after her people in order to teach her a lesson. The logic of it terrified her. Shifters were ruthless enough to do it.

  Maybe the buddy system wasn’t such a bad thing.

  She would be able to keep them safe.

  “Durant, get back to the club. Since I need to acquire more of a resistance to shifters, we’ll be there tonight to absorb the pack atmosphere.” The tiger didn’t look happy, but didn’t refute her.

  He silently handed the icepack to Taggert, his golden eyes never leaving hers. He hesitated as if contemplating hocking his precious club and all it had cost him just to stay with her. She couldn’t let him risk that for something as stupid as a tiny scratch. “You’re hosting the conclave. They need you at the club. Go.”

  With a scowl, he turned and disappeared out the door.

  “Aaron, go back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” He left without another comment, his eyes seeing too much.

  Taggert took one look at her then Jackson. He dumped the ice in the sink and left on silent feet.

  “And are you going to order me about like a lackey to do your bidding?” There was a snarl on his lips as he said it.

  His continual silence since he’d arrived yesterday grated on her nerves, and she couldn’t hold back a taunt. “So did you finally grow a backbone?”

  His eyes instantly turned yellow, and he leapt toward her. Raven stood her ground and lifted her chin, silently daring him. She missed the old Jackson, not this lifeless soldier.

  Only inches separated them when he halted. They just stared at each other, each too afraid to reach out to the other. His scent of fresh cut grass had haunted her.

  She’d missed it.

  Him.

  He inhaled deeply, fighting for control or as eager for the scent of her as she was him. She didn’t know which one she hoped for more and wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

  She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, nearly swallowing her tongue as delicious heat backwashed into her. The animals at her core gave a pleasant rumble.

  “Don’t send me away.”

  “You left.”

  “I didn’t have any choice. I had to protect you.”

  “And did protecting me include spilling my secrets to anyone who would listen?”

  A dull flush highlighted his cheekbones. “I told them enough to convince them that you could help. Nothing more. Are your secrets worth more to you than Aaron’s life?”

  His reply doused the last of her anger. He knew her too well and used it against her. She searched his face for a lie. And found none. “You could’ve asked first.”

  “Pack never asks another pack for help. It’s a sign of weakness. A trade is different.”

  When he reached for her, she stepped back, not ready to concede yet. She needed answers first. He tensed at the rejection, her words hitting him harder than any blow. “Aaron seems to think he’s here because of his mother. Is that the real reason?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Only partially. Kevin is worried he won’t be able to crest. No one can detect any evidence of his wolf. I explained your theory to the alpha that some shifters have certain abilities. Instead of being born with a defect that could cost him his life, the alpha is hoping that Aaron might have one of these gifts.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in that nonsense.”

  “I believe in you.” The hoarse comment took her off guard and knocked her on her ass with the pure intensity.

  Raven didn’t confirm or deny what she’d uncovered about Aaron. The kid had a right to his privacy. If he wanted anyone to know, he would tell them. But it made a sick sort of sense. His gift could be a defense mechanism years in the works to protect him agains
t a mother trying to kill him. “Then I guess we’re lucky that the alpha didn’t put spying on his son in the agreement.”

  She ignored the way Jackson’s jaw clenched at being shut out. Jackson was the most honorable man she knew, but until his loyalties were decided, she couldn’t afford to trust him.

  She went to her room, craving to turn around, crawl onto Jackson’s lap, and welcome him home the way her wolf urged. But she couldn’t give into her emotions and lose him again.

  She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to let him go a second time without inciting an all-out war.

  Chapter Eleven

  At seven the next morning, Raven rolled over, and opened her eyes to find Taggert standing next to her bed, a pile of messages in his hand. Groaning, she crammed the pillow over her head.

  “Go away.” This was his cruel revenge for disappearing on him while he’d slept.

  Paperwork.

  “Scotts called. You’re to report at the station at ten.” The bed dipped under his weight as he sat. The heat of him prickled over her skin almost uncomfortably, and she cursed as her beasts woke, eager to feel him up against her. She clenched her eyes shut. If she could just get back to that delicious dream, she wouldn’t have to imagine what Taggert’s body felt like touching hers.

  As if by some silent signal, construction started in the bathroom. She tossed the pillow at the door. “Did you tell them to do that?”

  “Durant gave them orders they weren’t to begin until you woke.” Taggert gave her a devilish smile, telling her that he knew about her dreams and wished to continue the torment. She had thought him innocent when she’d first took him home, now she wondered if he might not be the most devious of them all, slowly and insidiously slipping into her life.

  “You’re enjoying this.” She glared at him.

  Taggert grinned again, turning his face from handsome to downright sinful. “My room doesn’t have any construction.”

  Why did that sound like an invitation?

  She corralled her emotions and flopped back the covers. Taggert swallowed hard at the shorts and tank top, his eyes glued to her body. The total unexpected reaction for such a tame outfit tickled her.

  Enjoying the little payback, she grabbed her clothes and headed down the hall to the guest bathroom. Still amused at Taggert’s reaction, Raven hadn’t noticed the room was occupied until she’d entered.

  Jackson stopped toweling his hair and slowly lowered his arm. The flex and release of his tanned muscles as he finished drying was hypnotizing. The second towel was hooked precariously low on his hips, ready to slide to the floor any second. But she knew he wouldn’t let it drop. He would not seduce. He would demand and take. The attraction was made sharper for the fact that neither of them could act on it.

  Not while he belonged to someone else.

  Maybe never.

  She clutched her clothes like a shield, barely managing to scrape her chin off her chest. When she would’ve taken a step back, Jackson became unstuck.

  “Almost done.” His voice had a rough growl to it that spread goose bumps over her flesh.

  Just watching him increased the burn of desire Taggert had ignited, something no cold shower would be able to fix. She leaned weakly against the wall and waited for him to gather his things.

  Instead, he dropped the towel, stopping her breath in her chest. He grabbed his pants, slowly slipping them over his legs one at a time, and she couldn’t look away from the muscular flex of his ass. All she had to do was reach out to feel all that warm skin under her hands.

  A sharp shock from the wall startled a yelp out of her. She jerked away and rubbed her ass. She’d been so involved watching him, she hadn’t noticed she’d been absorbing a charge. By the time she turned, Jackson had his pants fastened, covering all the important bits.

  She nearly groaned and wanted to say ‘no fair’. He must have guessed her thoughts for he gave a quick grin and raised a brow, silently asking if she wanted him to strip.

  Desperation made her blurt out the first thing in her head. “You better go tell Aaron that we’re leaving in an hour.” She couldn’t keep him a prisoner in the house, and what could be safer than a police station?

  Jackson’s intensity didn’t dim after he left, and the promise on his face that this wasn’t over kept her blood heated long after he’d disappeared.

  * * *

  The police station was more active than Raven remembered. Jackson opted to stay outside with less people, while Aaron followed her to Scotts’ desk. The kid’s ghostly eyes flickered from one spot to the next, taking everything in with more than a casual interest, not missing much, as if he’d never been out of his tower.

  Though slim, those shoulders hinted he’d grow into an impressive man. Coupled with a sharp intelligence, he would become an alpha to be reckoned with. He’d managed to escape his mother’s machinations, so she didn’t doubt he’d use the shifter’s slyness to his best advantage. But as he walked before her, the oddness she noticed trailed in his wake like radio static.

  “Aaron, what are you doing?” The strangeness instantly stopped.

  He gave her a look over his shoulders as if completely unaware of his actions. Or maybe not used to other people being able to detect his unique gift.

  “Sit.” Scotts walked around them and planted himself behind the desk. The cracked leather chair cried in protest when he settled his heavy frame into the seat. Tobacco and sweat saturated the desk, telling her exactly how much time he spent there.

  Aaron took a seat, while she leaned her hip against the desk and waited.

  Scotts opened a drawer, slapped a gun, a loaded clip and a badge on his desk, along with cell phone, and then shoved them toward her. “Consider yourself sworn into duty.”

  Raven made no move to take the gun. The sharp smell of oil and spent gunpowder tainted the weapon. “No, thanks.”

  Scotts stopped searching his desk and met her gaze. “It’s not a request. You have to be armed at all times. If the gun is not on you, it is expected to be in your trunk and within easy reach.”

  She raised a brow at his lecturing tone. “For one, I’m not sure it’s such a bright idea to be carrying during a full moon. Not only will shifters smell the gunpowder, a gun won’t kill them unless you have enough ammo to really do some damage. Also, not everything we run across will be the big, bad shifters. Silver bullets help on shifters, but silver and iron would be more effective on other races.” She prodded the phone. “And these don’t work so well for me.”

  “I’ll requisite silver and iron ammo if we have any, three more clips, but the gun is not optional.” Scotts rubbed his fingers between his eyes as if she gave him a headache. “Carry the phone. Your desk is there.”

  He pointed to the empty place across from his. Ancient and scarred, the desk had seen better days. She poked the heavy metal, half expecting it to rock, surprised when it remained sturdy. The rest of the furniture in the bullpen was in similar condition.

  “I thought I would be assigned cases and work the streets. There’s no need for a desk. No shifters would come to the precinct for help.”

  An evil smile crossed his face as he said one succulent word. “Paperwork.”

  Raven winced at his glee. “Bastard.”

  “That’s ‘boss’ to you.”

  She blinked once then smiled. “Congratulations. You’re the best guy for the job.”

  Scotts scanned the files on the desk. “I’m not sure it’s much of a promotion.” Then he got down to business. “You’ll share the desk with other Regions when they’re appointed. I expect you to show up at least once a week. When more are hired, you’ll each pick a day to man the desk.”

  The idea of answering calls and being trapped in a room full of humans made her shudder at all the things that could go wrong. “Although shifters function during both day and night, a lot of the other creatures thrive by hiding in the darkness. They won’t appreciate anyone ousting them. You might want to keep that in mind wh
en working on schedules. As for the desk, shifters are very territorial and aren’t known for sharing.”

  Scotts rubbed a hand over his scalp, his short, clipped hair undisturbed. “Let’s hope the rest of the Regions don’t give me as much trouble as you.”

  She pushed aside his chiding to latch on the unfamiliar word she heard so recently. The same word her attackers used. “Region? Is that our official title?”

  He sat back, his old chair groaning in protest. “Regional Paranormal Liaison is a mouthful. The media dubbed the title Region.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to the team.”

  That might explain the name, but not why two teens had targeted her. Raven accepted Scotts’ hand, her leather glove protecting him from the static charge that was so much a part of her. He still jumped at her touch, and she suspected he was naturally sensitive to the paranormal.

  “Do you have a lot of applicants?”

  “I heard they were flooded, but only a small amount has survived the vetting. Less than one in a hundred. No one else has been voted through.” He still seemed miffed that he didn’t know who her sponsors were.

  She couldn’t help but agree. She didn’t like knowing that there was some unknown benefactor out there. She suspected they hadn’t helped her out of the goodness of their hearts.

  “Tell me what you’ve found out on the case.” Scotts’ eyes sharpened as he asked the question, all the pleasantries over.

  “I reviewed the video. It’s like you said. Nothing.”

  Scotts shuffled through his stack of papers, pulled out a couple of files and tossed them to her. “They couldn’t confirm what killed them, but your theory fits.”

  “Shifters gather during the full moon.” Raven nudged the edge of the folders. “So the next few days are the perfect opportunity to hit them hard.

  “The plan is ingenious. Just infect one shifter, and he’ll go home to his pack. You take out the alpha, and you could potentially destroy the foundation of the pack. Until a new leader can be selected, shifters will be dangerous as they fight for status.

 

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