Electric Storm (11 page)

She wondered if she could reach the car ahead of them, then sighed. They were wolves. Her feet would never touch the grass before they caught up with her.

Moonlight gleamed off Taggert’s backside as he bent over, and heat filled her face. She whirled around, flustered at the knowledge he slept nude. The fact that she’d sat within inches of him and had a conversation only made her cheeks burn more.

Raven clenched her fists and headed toward the door, running from the enticing images of them in her room and her life. If she had any hope of solving the cases on docket without more bodies piling up, she had to keep a clear head. That meant keeping her distance from them.

That didn’t explain why the prospect of not seeing them sent her stomach dropping to her knees or caused an ache in her throat that wouldn’t go away.

She had more to worry about than her personal life. The cases were too important to mess up. This new body could tell her if the same person perpetrated both crimes. Scotts could get her the information, but if she didn’t go, she’d risk missing something important. She was supposed to be the expert. That meant bucking up and doing her job.

“Ready?”

Jackson’s voice near her ear made her jump. The power grid in the house leapt at her spurt of fear, eager to give her whatever her body craved. Electricity crackled painfully up her legs. She resisted the lure to take what it offered, only to feel the tentacles burn against her shins in retaliation. The more current she carried, the more dangerous she was to those around her, and she couldn’t risk either of them being near her if she couldn’t keep everything under wraps.

Taggert opened the door, and moonlight and fresh air from the hallway spilled into the room. Her chest relaxed marginally.

As she passed, she saw the narrowed look he gave Jackson and realized he was trying to help her. Those chocolate eyes of Taggert’s followed her, but the way he watched her didn’t put her on edge as it normally would. His gaze more of a caress.

She would’ve said Jackson was oblivious to the exchange, except for the way he shifted to stand between them. What was it that he didn’t want her to know? Something about Taggert or himself? Or something far worse?

* * *

They entered the morgue as silently as the ride over. “Hey, Chuck, I’m here to see Detective Scotts.”

“Observation room three, Miss Raven.” The slightly balding, overweight man gave her a welcoming smile, but eyed the two men trailing her, clearly expecting trouble.

“Thank you.”

The vents were on full as they turned the corner, meaning that the body would be a bad one. Scotts straightened away from the wall at their approach, then gestured at the two men at her back. “They stay out here.”

“Agreed.” Scotts gave Raven a suspicious look at her easy capitulation, but his normal cocoa complexion seemed pale, his comforting tobacco scent a bit sour. She turned to Jackson and Taggert. “Behave.”

She swept open the doors and nearly doubled over at the smell. She heard Taggert gag, and even Jackson swore. It was all she could do to force herself further into the room. Breathing through her mouth didn’t help as it made her feel as if something foul crawled over her tongue and died.

She pulled up the collar of her shirt to cover her nose.

“Here.” Ross held out a medical mask.

The chemical smell from the paper material was so overpowering, she almost handed it back. “What did you douse this in? Lye?”

“My own concoction.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, his smile hidden behind his own mask. “The putrid smell won’t leak through the chemicals. It shouldn’t hurt you.” He crossed the large room to the lit area in the back.

While following, a chill snaked around her ankles and twisted over her skin. She shivered, turned and saw that the large morgue refrigerator door gapped open. The blackness beyond was so thick, she shivered again but not with cold this time. The three-inch metal was torn and ragged, hanging drunkenly on its hinges.

“We suspect shifters.”

Raven jumped, not sensing Ross’s approach.

“They did this?” Something appeared out of order, but she couldn’t place her finger on what bothered her, the answer scratching at the back of her mind.

“They have the same motto as soldiers...never leave anyone behind.” He turned and shuffled back toward the lights.

It was so similar to what Jackson said that she nodded and dismissed the part of her that wanted to explore further. She had two paying cases. She didn’t have time to investigate anything else, especially just out of curiosity.

“Usually shifters are neater when they come and retrieve their own. Vampires are the tricky bastards, popping up and tearing through whatever stands in their way to freedom.” He picked up a tool and looked at her questioningly. “Coming?”

Raven shook off the vague unease and turned to finish the job she came to do. Even from the distance, she could see pieces of the body dripped off the table to splotch on the floor. After a few steps, a wave of dizziness staggered her. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and pulled the mask away from her face.

And gagged, struggling to keep her breath. “Have you called in a hazmat team?”

Ross chuckled at her lame joke, politely continuing to work and allow her time to recover. “Not for this one. The chem panel revealed nothing toxic except for natural decomposition.”

The only way to describe the person on the slab was as a lump of flesh. Raven squinted, unable to tell the species. “Did you test to make sure it wasn’t human?”

More than half the bones were missing. Or taken. The killer was becoming more adept. No bite marks were discernible. Hell, she could barely tell what body parts lay on the slab. The tissue appeared pale. Bloodless. She would’ve said vampire except they don’t tear and eat flesh this way.

Ross handed over the chart in answer to her question. She scanned the pages. “Another water victim?” She didn’t look up as she flipped through the rest.

Ross grunted. “They basically had to strain the stream to find what pieces they could. This is the bulk of it here.”

“The report says the enzymes are from a were. Do we know what kind?” Humans insisted on calling shifters were, short for the horrible movies that showed werewolves as two-legged monsters. It didn’t matter that shifters only transformed to the four-legged variety. The name stuck.

The doctor picked up his scalpel and sliced cleanly through the outer layer of what she assumed was the chest. By the thickness, she would guess male.

“Not, yet. The lab was backed up, so I could only run the quick stick test. I’m assuming feline.”

“Why?”

“Because of this.” He lifted up a portion of the body on his side of the table hidden from view by the torso. Inch long claws dangled from what appeared to be human fingers. Partial transition. Which meant a very strong shifter, as it took years of practice for a shifter to be able to call upon their animal in human form without shifting completely. 

At least half of the nails were jagged. Not a lot could destroy the hard enamel of shifter claws created to cleave down to the bone.

But what drew her gaze was the set of industrial shackles clamped onto his forearm. Her own wrists throbbed with memories. The feel of cold metal. The heavy weight. Her pulse sped up. Her breathing grew shallow.

If not for the chem panel in front of her, she would’ve sworn this poor creature came from the labs. But there were no drugs or toxins on the report, nothing to indicate any of the abnormalities the labs inflicted on shifters. “The other bodies were all shifters as well?”

“Yes.” Ross didn’t bother to look up from his examination of the cavity he cracked open.

“Can you show me the results when you receive them?” She needed to get out of there, needed to think rationally. She had to follow her own advice to Dominic and not jump to conclusions.

“Hum-huh,” Ross didn’t pause as he started to pull out and weigh the organs. A piece of pond scum and a congealed lump of blood oozed down the side of the body. Time to leave.

The air grew thin. The concrete floor felt soggy like sand under her weight. She kept her pace measured, her expression unchanged as she trudged toward the door.

Not here. She’d fall apart when she got home. Energy crackled along her bones, her body burning with the need to expel all the pent-up current. It would go for the bodies first. There was no way she could explain to anyone how she could make a corpse breathe and yearn for life.

Damn zombies.

 
Chapter Nine

DAY FOUR: MORNING

L
ondon handed Raven the local newspaper without a word. The sun dimmed on the path as she walked, dread balling in her stomach. She shoved the last bite of food in her mouth, needed to replace all the calories she’d burned recently, the once tasty bread like sawdust.

Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the paper to the front page. The headlines blared:
The Police Hire Specialist to Catch Killer; Is It Doing More Harm than Good?
Underneath was a picture of Jackson and Scotts’ standoff, capturing the back of her head in the process.

“Shit.” The peace she managed to eke out after a few hours of sleep vanished. The nip in the air didn’t feel refreshing anymore, the chill burrowing under her skin.

London fell into step beside her. “They’re trying to raise an outcry so the legislature will pass the new law for the Regional Paranormal Liaison.”

“Legalizing RPL gives a gun and badge to anyone who’s approved.” Groups would accuse each other of petty crimes. Despite what she said to Jackson, she wasn’t sure this was the right route to take either. “It’d be all out war.”

“Maybe, but it would also give you the right to view any crime scene that involved the paranormal without waiting for an invitation.”

His comment surprised her. “Do you agree with what they’re trying to do?”

He shrugged. “Whether I agree or not doesn’t matter. It’s a ploy to calm the outraged protesters raising a stink. I doubt it will ever pass. There are too many normals who’d object to giving the animals more rights, let alone arming them.”

“But if it passed, would you apply?” She could see him doing a job like that. Or join the special task force, a SWAT team for paranormals.

The big man shook his head. “Too many people. Too many orders. I like my place here. You should think closely about it before dismissing it.”

That surprised her, but she ultimately rejected the idea. “If I apply, they’d require a blood test. I’d be forced to register.” There was nothing either of them could say to that.

The last thing she needed was to be labeled as a conduit in a public database, not to mention her that blood would reveal the mutations in her genes that made her a crossbreed. She wasn’t prepared for the consequences of either, especially if the very people who infected her with the various shifter DNA increased their search to locate her. She was safe right now, hidden in plain view. If she applied, she couldn’t guarantee a public position would protect her.

She pushed away those dark thoughts, along with the insidious fear at the mention of discovery. Thunder rumbled in the distance when the house came into view. Her feet quickened, eager to escape. London opened the front door and disappeared down the hallway to the section of the house he’d claimed as his own. Security central. She suspected he had a fridge in there as well and was tempted to follow when she heard voices.

“Where is she?”

Jackson’s growl carried easily through the kitchen door and shivered through her. The heat of his anger struck her even through the flimsy panel separating them. No doubt she was the person he wanted; he reserved that rough voice strictly for her.

She hadn’t seen or spoken to either wolf since they’d returned from the morgue yesterday. Until Jackson decided to share information about the pack with her, she really had nothing to say to him. She and Dina had spent most of the day yesterday out on the streets, questioning all the rogues they could find about missing shifters. Surprisingly, they responded to Dina, while watching Raven as if she would attack. Funny, since the rogues were supposedly the dangerous ones.