Electric Heat (16 page)

All that remained was a slight burning sensation in her
side. Dreading what she would find, Raven tugged up her shirt, hating the way
her fingers shook. The small tattoo was about the size of her palm. The color had
deepened until she could almost make out a silhouette, but the shape continued
to elude her.

She brushed a finger over the spot, then sucked in a sharp
breath when it felt like she’d touched a live wire. She yanked down her shirt
and rubbed her fingertips, able to recall the faint ridges imprinted in her
skin.

Then she leaned back and waited for them to come for her.

It was less than an hour before sunset when Rylan’s eyes
snapped open. He sat up slowly, his gaze cemented on her, a hunger there that
made her gulp. It was pitch black in the cell without the lights. Even with her
enhanced vision, she could only make out a few shapes.

A glow spilled down the hall, brighter and bigger than a
normal light as it headed toward them.

“A witch light.” Rylan gave a crooked smile. “You were being
naughty while I was asleep.”

Raven shrugged. “Maybe just a little.”

A whole gaggle of witches filled the room, Heloise in the
lead. Her eyes were pure black and full of magic as she glared down at her.
“You’ve made your point.”

Raven stood, and cocked her head as she studied them, noting
weaknesses. Even as she reached for the door, the power under her skin
solidified to armor. When she pushed open the cell, the lock snapped with a ping,
and the spell shattered like the sound of glass cracking.

“Where’s Durant?”

 Chapter Thirteen

DAY THREE:
EVENING

N
o
one spoke as Raven waited for Durant to arrive. She didn’t pace, but watched
the witches for signs of treason. They were planning something. Rylan stepped
in front of her, and a growl of displeasure rumbled up her chest.

He dipped his head down to meet her gaze. “They’re not
prey.”

She blinked to clear her mind, not even realizing she’d been
waiting to pounce.

The smell of blood hit her first.

“Durant.” She turned to face the door. A minute later, two
men dragged the sagging form of Durant between them. He smelled of blood and
pain, his eyes golden with his tiger. They dropped him to his knees without a
care for his injuries. His tiger rumbled in displeasure, and he lifted his head,
searching the room until his gaze landed on her. She expected to find
retribution dancing in his eyes, not concern for her.

Raven couldn’t bear to see him on his knees before the
witches, but Rylan beat her to it, helping Durant stand. She went to lift his
shirt and gauge the extent of his injuries when he caught her hands. “Not
here.”

She gave a nod.

It was time to leave.

“Our agreement is over. You said it yourself.” She turned
and faced Heloise. “But you had no intention of letting us go, did you?”

She shrugged, her smile sharp. “With our agreement met, you
are no longer under my protection. Your power belongs to the coven. It is
agreed that we alone are allowed to have magic. You’ve violated our law. You’re
ours and no one will gainsay us.”

The creature rose under her skin, not liking the demand. The
scent of rain filled the room, and a deep rumble of anger spilled into the
small space. She didn’t have to see to know her eyes were glowing. Her skin
itched, her gums were sensitive where fangs threatened to burst through. Claws
pressed under her fingertips, and she ached to rip into those who would deny
her.

The witches stepped back, and the primitive urge to give
chase lured her to follow them step for step.

Durant slipped between her and her prey, and she almost
swatted him out of the way. The impulse stopped when he bent and offered his
throat. The smell of leather had her shuffling closer, and she found herself
pressed up against him. The creature reluctantly gave way.

Only when she was sure she had herself under control did she
step back. She smiled at Heloise and her little followers. It wasn’t a nice
smile. A hint of fangs scraped against her lips. “I’m not yours and never will
be. You bartered for my help. It’s my professional opinion that you’re being
set up. It’s a trap. The murders are just the bait.”

Disbelief colored their faces. 

 “Who do you call when you’re in trouble?”

“The Prime.” Heloise’s eyes widened, then amusement curled
her lips.

Raven’s temper soared, and she pushed home her point. “I’ve
been told over and over again that they’re the strongest. The best of the best.
The perfect target.”

“You gave your opinion. Now leave.” It was said with ill
grace.

“My pleasure.” Raven walked past them, then stopped and
pinned the witches under her glare. “Leave me and my pack alone. If you come
after us, I will see it as an attack. I will fight back, and I will kill every
single one of you.”

No one protested as she swept out of the room, Durant and
Rylan at her back.

Only when they were outside did she slow, accommodating her
pace to Durant. Rylan slung the tiger’s arm over his shoulder, taking the brunt
of his weight.

Durant hissed in pain, but it was his lack of protest that told
her the extent of his injuries.

“Raven.”

She didn’t turn, reluctant to face Durant, her guilt for not
being able to protect him eating her alive.

“The man had the mark.”

Her stride hitched.

“He didn’t kill himself. The murderer is still out there.”

She shook her head, not wanting to deal with the witches’
mess. “I know.”

 But they couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t put her pack at risk
now that they were officially legal. “Let’s go home. We’ll do some digging and
hand all the information over to the Council. There’s nothing more we can do
for them.”

They were being watched as they made their way toward the entrance
of the compound. Her shoulders tensed, and she was literally able to feel the
target on her back. She hurried toward the gate, eager to be away from the
threat that seemed to lurk in the very air itself.

When the gates opened, Raven stopped short. On the other
side of the parking lot stood London. The big Kodiak bear shifter was leaning
against an SUV as if he expected them to show at any moment. Nothing riled him,
and she found it comforting to know he was watching their backs. The man was
her security expert, big and badass and solid muscle. When he straightened and
opened the door for her, he moved with a grace that belied his animal
counterpart.

“Jackson sent you.”

He nodded, then walked around the front of the vehicle to
sit in the driver’s seat, all without a word.

She peered through the open door at him. “How’d he know?”

His big paws gripped the steering wheel, making it look like
a kid’s toy in his hands. “You attract trouble.”

“Trouble finds me. I don’t go looking for it.” Raven denied
as she watched Rylan and Durant settle into the vehicle.

There was a loud yowling moan by the gate, and Raven whirled
to see her jaguar shifter pacing anxiously. She didn’t have the heart to leave
him behind. “Come on, then.”

He didn’t need any further prompting. He jumped in the back of
the SUV, circled, then lay down on the floor and closed his eyes, content to be
with the rest of the pack.

When she took her seat and shut the door, London turned
toward her and shook his head. “Trouble.”

The vehicle turned over with a comforting rumble. London
drove as if he owned the road, and the rest of the cars should get out of his
way. His hair was short and rough, as if he hacked it off himself, his thick
brows drawn down into a straight line as he concentrated on driving. Tires
chirped as they took the mountain curves, but no one cautioned him to slow down.

She swiveled in her seat to face Durant. Because of his golden
tattoo, the witches couldn’t use magic to get what they wanted from him, so
they’d resorted to torture. “What did they want?”

Durant didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to when his bland
expression said it all.

“Me.” Her throat closed, and she strangled on the word.

“What did you tell them?” Rylan’s eyes flashed to black, not
bothering to hide his fangs as he demanded an answer.

“Nothing.” Durant’s word was barely more than a growl,
clearly offended at the idea he would succumb to torture.

“Both of you stop.”

Neither spoke, but continued to glare at each other, and she
suspected they would finish their discussion when she wasn’t around.

 A single beam of light slid around the curve in front of
them, and she tensed, cursing herself for a fool to believe the witches would
keep their word. Everyone in the car fell silent, hostility polluting the air
in the confined space, waiting to erupt.

A Harley, deadly-looking in silver and black chrome, chugged
around the corner. The rider tilted the bike at a nearly impossible angle to
make the curve, and sped closer. Even at a distance, the rider had a presence
to him—not power exactly, more of a complete absence of power that was
chilling, as if he consumed all the magic around him.

As the two vehicles passed, their gazes collided.

The Prime.

His eyes were deep and dark, and the pure power that pooled
there was so potent it had to be a constant effort to hold it back.

There was something not quite human about him.

His sandy brown hair was a little too long to be a strict
military cut. Stubble lined his square jaw, giving him a scruffy, worn
appearance. He was big, his frame corded with muscle, but so unemotional he could
be mistaken for a mannequin.

She shivered as if she’d caught a glimpse into his soul…or
where one should have been. A vast emptiness stared back, hungry and vicious,
ready to devour her if she lingered too long. He would do as he was told. Be
relentless. Ruthless. Nothing she could say or do would change his mind about
his job.

Their exchange took place in a split second and felt like an
eternity.

As his Harley sped past, Raven spotted a huge broadsword
strapped to his back. It looked like it weighed more than she did. It was a
long time before she could pull her mind away from what she had seen and ignore
the deep foreboding that gathered in her gut.

When they pulled into the driveway that led to her home,
Durant heaved a sigh of relief when he saw his car still in one piece.

It had only been two days, but it felt like forever since
she’d been home. The grand old building hummed in welcome as she threw open the
door. The place had a Victorian feel, grand open spaces, large, rambling
hallways, and a staircase that curved along the wall to a second floor where it
opened up to a long balcony.

Taggert stood in the center, peering down at her, not an
inch of him moving as he pinned her under his gaze.

“It’s done.”

He vaulted over the rail and landed in a crouch a few feet
away from where she stood. When he rose, he loomed a few inches over her. She
could swear he’d grown, gained weight since she’d last seen him. His eyes were
still a neon green, but the rest of him seemed calmer.

He stalked toward her, his movements liquid, all bold and
primitive.

She didn’t realize she held out her hand, a feeble gesture
to stop him, until his chest came to rest under her naked palm. He inhaled
sharply at the touch, then bowed his head, but not before she saw the shattered
emotions.

His doubts slashed deep. “You didn’t think I’d succeed.”

Taggert shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his
eyes. “I didn’t dare hope.”

Her throat ached at his confession. “You’re pack.”

His chest expanded, and a smile lit his face. 

From her peripheral vision, she saw Durant climb the stairs.
“Don’t think you’re going anywhere without me seeing those injuries.”

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.