Electric Heat (3 page)

She and the witch both eyed each other, looking for
weaknesses.

Power and grim resolve stared back at Raven. The witch’s black
hair was scraped back, her light coffee-colored skin pale, the wrinkles daring
to crowd the corners of her eyes were more pronounced. None of it detracted
from her exotic appeal.

At the slight tilt of her head, one of the witch’s followers
presented Raven with a slim folder. A quick glance showed less than a handful of
pages.

“If you’re finished making demands, we must get back.” The
witch turned in a swirl of multicolored skirts, the rippling fabric betraying
her agitation for a few seconds. She and the two others headed toward the door
without another word.

When Raven moved to follow, Rylan stepped into her path. He
was whipcord thin and elegantly dressed, never a hair out of place, but she’d
lay odds on him in a fight every time. There was a ruthlessness in him, a
determination to survive at any cost that most people dismissed because of his
easy manners.

A mistake.

He had an ungodly amount of power, enough to conceal his
otherworldliness so others often mistook him for newly turned or just plain human.
Though he stared at her, his words were directed toward Durant. “I will be
there at sundown. Please see if you can keep her out of trouble until then.”

Raven would have protested, but in truth, she had run into
more than her share of complications in recent weeks.

Durant gave a stiff nod, his eyes narrowing in displeasure
at being told how to do his job.

Rylan kissed her forehead, turned abruptly and followed the
witches out the door. She would have been flustered by the show of affection if
she hadn’t felt a hum of power encircle her.

Testing how very little control she had left.

She could tell the instant he vanished. The warm static he
carried around with him flattened out into nothing.

Only then did she relax.

She’d passed.

This time.

She smoothed out the slightly crumpled folder. She needed to
solve this case quickly…before that changed.

 Chapter Three

DAY ONE: SUNRISE

D
urant
effortlessly guided his Aston Martin through the winding mountain roads. The
machine leapt forward with a smooth rumble, reminding her of his tiger
counterpart. He was one of the few shifters allowed to drive, a privilege
granted to only the elite…alphas and their enforcers.

High emotions could trigger a change.

Road rage took on a whole new meaning when someone could literally
grow fangs and claws.

As the sun crested over the horizon, Raven read the file one
more time, unable to glean anything useful from the rubbish. “There’s nothing
in here.”

Durant didn’t even bother to take his eyes off the road. “Did
you really think she’d just hand over information about her coven?”

Actually, Raven had. She was tired, achy and now, very
cranky as well. “How the devil am I supposed to solve anything if I don’t know
what the hell’s going on?”

“We’ll have to wait. They’ll only tell us what they think we
need to know.”

Raven snorted. “You mean nothing?”

“Exactly.” Durant didn’t smile. “What do you know about
witches?”

“The older the witch, the more powerful, and the higher the
rank. Casting magic has a cost. The bigger the magic, the more you pay.” Her
lips curled in disgust. “And they used to own familiars to carry the brunt of
the cost.”

“They still do.”

Raven’s mouth dropped open. “Say again?”

“They no longer resort to capturing and imprisoning them,
but some shifters do sell themselves into service.” His hands clenched on the
steering wheel, so she could tell it bothered him, too. “You must not react or
interfere between a familiar and their witch. Neither side will take kindly to
it.”

“Why would a shifter consent to such a barbaric arrangement?”

Durant’s expression said she was thinking too human again. “You
forget, not all shifters have a pack. Without a pack, they’d be labelled rogue
and can be killed without fear of reprisal. Not to mention that not all
shifters born into a pack are allowed to remain.”

“Those who can’t shift.” Raven didn’t understand how they
could cut ties with family so easily. “You treat them as if they’re born with a
defect and therefore inferior.”

“You have such low opinion of our culture, but there are
reasons for those rules. After a young shifter crests or fails, they must choose
what kind of future they want, just like any human. They’re no longer protected
like children, but treated as adults. Those who are more human than shifter wouldn’t
survive in the pack. We’re violent. Vicious. Pack members need to be stronger
and better. Wars for territory still break out. The pack is only as strong as its
weakest link. Those who can’t shift end up being cannon fodder. Their best
chance for survival is outside the pack. The ultimate choice of whether they
want to risk staying with the pack or leave is theirs.”

“So they’re sold to the witches.” Revulsion twisted through
her at the thought.

“They volunteer.”

His answer floored her. “Why on earth would they agree to
slavery?”

His brows lowered in annoyance. “They’re not slaves. They occupy
a unique position in the pack. Their family is honored for their services.”

“Be a slave or leave the pack. How is that a choice? The
witches can do anything they want to their familiars and no one will object.”

Durant laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You
think so little of us. They’re actually highly protected, and, better yet,
they’re still considered part of the pack. Each shifter signs a contract. For
every maiming or death, the witches must pay a severe fine. They can’t afford
to damage or kill a shifter. It costs too much.”

Raven was flabbergasted, the papers crumpling in her hands. “And
paying a fine makes it all better?”

Durant gave her a cynical look. “Your military is run the
same way. Soldiers are paid for their services. The family receives benefits if
they die in battle. It’s considered an honor to serve one’s country.”

“That’s different,” Raven muttered.

“Is it?”

She had no answer and didn’t like the comparison. “Have you
ever thought of becoming one?”

He cast her a peculiar look, then shook his head. “No.”

It floored her when he hesitated. Jealousy curled through
her until she thought she was going to be sick. “But the spell on your back.
You got it to prevent becoming a familiar.”

“The spell protects my beast. I can activate it or grant the
witch my permission.”

She bit her lip, desperately wanting to know who had so
captured his affections, picking at the unanswered question like a raw wound. “Who?”

A half-smile curled his lips, and he raised a brow. “You
don’t know?”

She racked her brain for a name and came up blank. She
curled her fingers into fists. Maybe it was better not to know, so she wouldn’t
be tempted to kill the bitch.

“You.”

Heat burned her cheeks at the husky tone and warm spilled
into her chest. “But I’m not a witch.”

He shrugged away her protest. “You can take what you want
from me with my blessing.”

Raven had no idea how to reply. They fell silent as he
maneuvered the car along the hairpin curves. The warm sun beat down on her, and
his leather scent lulled her until her eyelids grew heavy.

* * *

Raven jolted awake when the car pulled to a stop. Her head was
nestled on Durant’s leg, her hand curled over his thigh. A comforting heat
radiated from him, and she wanted to snuggle closer. If she concentrated, she’d
almost swear she could hear his tiger purring. The sound soothed her. He turned
off the car, and neither moved, both enjoying the novelty of touching.

Then she became conscious of where exactly her head was
resting…just inches away from his erection. Heat climbed in her cheeks at the
intimate position, and she straightened, avoiding his gaze. She expected a
comment, but he remained silent. When she stole a glance at him, it was to find
his golden eyes watching her with a single-minded focus hot enough to scorch her
insides.

“You look better.”
Good enough to eat
went unsaid,
but it was there in his eyes.

Raven held perfectly still, so as not to squirm under his
scrutiny, and realized with a start that he was correct. She felt almost
normal. She eyed him suspiciously, but his bland expression gave away nothing.

She checked the vault where she used to store her power, but
it remained barren and cold. And she was beginning to fear nothing would be the
way it used to be. She reached over to brush a hand against her side to gauge
if the spot had grown, but stopped when she noticed he was still watching her.

She fiddled with her gloves, coming to resent them. They
kept her from touching her pack. The loss of connection left behind an ache
that wouldn’t be appeased any other way.

She hastily glanced out the window. “Are we there?”

“We’ve been on their land for the last twenty minutes.” He tipped
his head, gesturing over her shoulder.

When she turned, she saw a large wrought iron gate blocking
the way. There was no guard box, no security cameras. No electricity at all.
Opposite was a sheer cliff dropping off into nothingness. Beyond, all the eye
could see were miles and miles of wilderness. Much to her surprise, the
absolute silence was actually calming. “How far are we from civilization?”

Durant unhooked her seatbelt. “Not far. Only about eighty
miles as the crow flies.”

Raven glanced at the clock. Four hours had passed. Then she
understood. With all the twists and turns, no one could sneak up on the coven.
“Clever.”

Durant straightened from the car and leaned in to grab his
bag. By the time she’d untangled herself from her seatbelt, he was already
around the vehicle and opening her door. “Where did the witches go?”

He nodded toward the gate. “The doors had opened when the
witches pulled up.”

She studied the entrance more closely. “Let me guess. They
closed when we approached.”

“You got it.” He shouldered his bag and headed toward the doors.
The gate stood fifteen feet high at the tallest point. Shrubs lined both sides
of the entrance, trailing off into a knot of towering trees.

The closer she got, the denser the magic became, until she
could barely push her way forward. Cobwebs clung to her, thickening to an
invisible spider web that threatened to trap her.

A binding spell.

But instead of allowing the spell to seep into her like an
infection, the energy resting under her skin hardened to an impenetrable armor,
blocking the enchantment.

Magic flowed over her, then splashed off like water before soaking
into the ground.

Each step became easier than the last.

Durant strolled through the spell like he didn’t have a care
in the world.

Damned if she wasn’t a little envious of his wards.

He pushed on the gates, muscles bulging, but nothing
happened. His brows lowered in annoyance, and he strode toward the shrubs. They
stood just five feet tall, something a shifter could easily scale—hell, jump
with a single bound. So why did she feel so uneasy? “Durant, wait.”

He halted and turned to look at her. As she neared, she
couldn’t put her finger on what bothered her. Then it clicked. She didn’t sense
any magic at all, when she had been all but drowning in it not two seconds ago.

Playing a hunch, she stooped, picked up a rock and heaved it
over the side. Branches and vines shot up, twisting through the air, catching
the small missile. There was a slight pause when nothing happened, then the
rock imploded in a shower of dust.

Durant pursed his lips.

Raven gritted her teeth. “Another damned test.”

She walked up to the gate and set her hand on the front
plate as Durant had done. Power from the metal hummed at her touch, and licked
at her as if hungry for a taste. The sharp, overly sweet stench of magic enveloped
her like she’d fallen in a vat of pixy stick powder.

Then the magic invaded her chest. She coughed, trying to
expel it from her lungs, when her creature cracked open its eyes.

Raven froze, not certain she could fight both it and the spell
at the same time, but the creature seemed more interested in the magic. The
beast fed on energy, and she waited for it to slurp it down. Instead, it struck
fast, grabbed hold of the hex before it could escape, and shredded it with
razor-sharp teeth and claws.

Ribbons of the destroyed spell fluttered to the ground to
pile up like burnt shadows. The sweet smell turned sour. After what felt like
eons, a tiny opening appeared in the magic surrounding the property. Raven
thrust her hand through and shoved against the gate until the latch click open.
As soon as the lock disengaged, what remained of the magic faded.

The creature puffed up with pride at the victory, pleased to
show Raven what they could achieve if they worked as a team. Raven wasn’t so
easily convinced. She focused on the creature, wanting to identify what type of
breed she harbored, but couldn’t seem to get a lock on the beast. Every time
she got close, it wiggled away, dissipating into nothing.

No matter how hard she searched, the creature was gone.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself facing the now
benign gate.

Putting her shoulder against the metal, she used her weight
to force it open. The doors creaked, and she stumbled through, and would have
landed on her face if Durant hadn’t caught her close. She looked up, half-expecting
to find a gaggle of witches waiting to take them into custody. Instead, only
the coven leader stood waiting on the path.

Raven was furious at the witches’ casual disregard for their
safety. They would have killed Durant over a lousy test. She shrugged off
Durant’s restraining arm, and marched forward, not stopping until she was up
close and personal with the voodoo priestess. Magic billowed in the air around the
woman, ready to strike, but Raven had had enough. “Try anything like that
again, and I’ll consider our bargain null and void.”