Electric Storm (18 page)

“Put me down.” Every nerve ending felt fried. Partly overloaded. What little electricity she had was leaking like crazy. Her energy level would continue to sputter until she stabilized. He had to feel like he put his whole body in a socket.

Instead of listening, Taggert picked up his pace.

“Please. I can manage.” At least she hoped she could. She hated being defenseless, hated relying on someone else.

When she tried to lean away from him, agony screeched through her body. Spots danced in front of her eyes. “Did she manage to leave any of my back intact?” She could barely form words, but she refused to be cowed by the pain.

When he didn’t reply, Raven bit her lip. The first hint that something was dreadfully wrong pinged through her. “Taggert?”

Water splashed her back when he crossed the stream. Crippling agony ripped through her as droplets of water trickled into her wounds. She couldn’t prevent herself from curling around him. “Please let me down.”

Finally, Taggert stopped, somehow sensing she was at her limit. It embarrassed her that she couldn’t stop shaking. Five minutes. She needed five minutes to rebuild as much of her shields as she could to protect Taggert. She could survive an overload, but even a shifter could only take that kind of abuse for so long and not be damaged, especially since he couldn’t take his animal form.

Though his chest heaved with exertion, he seemed reluctant to release her. He lowered her so gently that she didn’t even feel the ground. When he made to stand, she grabbed the material of his shirt and held him in place.

The pure yellow gleam in his eyes should’ve repelled her, but the shattered, lost expression had her heart aching for him. “I’m alright. I’ll be fine.” She reached out to touch his face, halting when he flinched. His rejection shattered her.

She did that to him.

When she would’ve let her hand fall, he grabbed her fingers and pressed them to his check. His eyes slid shut, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

 His skin pebbled at her touch, and she jerked back. “I’m hurting you.”

Taggert slowly shook his head. When he opened his eyes, he appeared calmer. “Rylan and Jackson should be here soon. I can hear them, smell them. There about a mile away, moving fast.”

He drew away, and Raven gasped at all the blood. “You’re hurt.”

Her heart gave a painful squeeze, and she couldn’t find her breath. She tried to pull him back to inspect the wounds, but he refused her this time. If she didn’t think she’d pass out, she’d damn the pain and follow.

Part of her anxiety eased when she saw the blood wash away. Then a new fear took root. Her blood. She gulped hard, her throat tight with a fear that wouldn’t be banished.

“You have to get it all off.” He was adapting to her and the current so fast it scared the shit out her. Infection would explain everything. Being around her was changing him into something else. Something she could touch. She was ruining him, stealing his chance for an ordinary life.

A brooding expression crossed Taggert’s face as if he sensed her turmoil, her withdrawal. He melted a little in the shadows. She didn’t like the way he searched their surroundings, the way he refused to speak or the way his eyes whirled when he looked at her. Thunder rumbled, and he flinched.

She cleared her throat, knowing that later...much later...they would have to address this issue. She just had to keep her distance until they found another solution for him.

“Your vampire just disappeared. Where the hell have you been?” Jackson pulled to a stop half way across the clearing. He had directed his question at Taggert then slowly turned toward her.

With incredible speed that made her flinch, he was beside her. “What the hell happened?”

“We’ve found the killer.”

“What?” His roar rang in her ears.

Bile rose, her power fizzled and she fought to stay conscious. “Is there any way that we can take this conversation home before the storm breaks?” She wasn’t proud the way her voice shook.

Rylan appeared out of the night from the direction of the fight, his clothes rumpled, his perfectly coiffed hair in disarray, his expression so stiff it frightened her. Without saying a word, he scooped her up and traveled with her back to the car. She closed her eyes and buried her face against the crook of his neck so as not to risk losing the contents of her stomach as the world blurred around them. The hot, spicy scent of him swirled around her. Like a trigger, she remembered that scent, remembered the way he cared for her whenever she became injured when in captivity.

He carefully placed her in the backseat, then brushed her hair gently behind her ear. When he straightened, she saw the knife. “No. You can’t lose any more blood.”

“Neither can you.” He gripped the blade into his fist and pulled the knife clean. Blood welled and dripped from between his clenched fingers.

He opened his bloody hand and placed his palm directly over her wounds. She sucked in a breath at the touch, her stomach twisting up into her throat at the agony. Fire burned along her back and stole her breath.

“Damn you.” She shoved him away with weak arms. Already, the blood had stopped dripping down her back.

Rylan stepped back, his all black eyes watching her with such emotion her heart ached. While she watched, he lifted his hand to his face and inhaled the scent of her blood. Then he was gone, circling the back of the vehicle.

Taggert was at her side, buckling her into the seat, cradling her hand in his. When she tried to draw away, he grumbled low in his throat in a not even remotely human sound and tightened his grip.

Unable to focus on him and the pain at the same time, she turned to Rylan when he got in the car. Work. She had to focus on work for fear she’d cry at the way her messed up life was falling apart, taking her friends with it. “What did you find?”

“Nothing. Whoever it was had disappeared. I smelled lightning, burnt hair, and a lot of your blood.” He gave her an accusing glare from the rearview mirror, his reflection didn’t dim its potency. “The scent of whoever was there was so faint, I couldn’t get a lock on them.” He started the car and had it in gear when Jackson opened the door and jumped in.

“No one followed us.” They took off.

Both the men in the front faced straight ahead, their silence more stifling now than on the ride there. The trip home was vague as she wavered between full consciousness and the hazy lure of darkness. She came to herself when the engine rumbled to stop and someone opened her door.

She hadn’t placed a foot on the ground when the front door burst open and Dominic and London were hurrying toward them. “Why the hell didn’t you call?” His words trailed off when he caught sight of her. “What happened?”

Without waiting for the others, he clasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. The muscles in her back protested the abrupt movement. Ribbons of fire shot down her spine and into her legs. His grip flexed painfully on her hands when some of her energy splashed over on him, but he refused to release her.

 “Attacked.” She couldn’t say anything more as she battled for breath. The muscles around her ribs protested each inhalation.

“Screw this.” Jackson went to pick her up and found London blocking his way. Jackson was taller, but London had the weight of pure bulk to back him. “Get out of my way.”

“Stop acting like boys.” She didn’t need this now. When the stand-down didn’t break, she debated leaving them to slug it out. With a deep breath, she released Dominic’s hand and took a staggering step toward the combatants. Anger shut out some of the pain, and she relished the feeling, embraced it.

Taggert stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

“Move.” Her quarrel wasn’t with him. She didn’t want to hurt him more than she already had. Some of the energy began to build again, begging to be released. What better way than a fight?

“He’s worried.” He ducked his head a little to meet her gaze straight on, slightly baring his neck. “He has a right to be worried.”

The hot air of her anger deflated a little and that only made her crankier. “Do you guys think we could take this inside? I need to call Scotts, not to mention I desperately need to wash up before heading back out.”

All eyes latched onto her at her statement, stopping the argument dead. With one painful step, then another, she headed toward the house, waiting for the explosion from her troop of overprotective goons. They knew as well as she did that they needed to go back. Something was out there killing. Not to mention the issue of Cassie’s missing informant still hadn’t shown up.

Taggert drew near, and though it shouldn’t, his presence easing the tightness in her chest. His touch was surprisingly comfortable when he scooped her up in his arms.

Skin touched skin.

A hiss escaped him, quickly drowned out by her groan of pain.

He instantly halted and lowered her. Once her feet touched the ground, her knees threatened to buckle, and she clung to his shoulders. Taggert’s arms slipped around her hips, his hands cupping her ass. When she would’ve protested, he nudged her with his chin.

“Wrap your legs around my waist. I’ll get you upstairs.”

Raven hesitated then glanced at Rylan. “You’ll stay?”

He nodded, his face like granite, his chest unmoving, every inch the vampire. She winced to see her blood liberally coating his shirtfront. The drive home had to have been torture. As if he read her thoughts, he turned away. “I’ll make a few phone calls. I’ll see you after your shower.”

Raven faced Taggert, looked at his young face and felt a twinge of conscience, then shoved it aside for practicality. The instant he lifted, she wrapped her legs around him. And jerked, startled by the arousal she found pressed intimately against her.

When she loosened her legs, Taggert tightened his grip, avoiding her gaze. “Ignore it. That always happens around you.”

Those were the last words he spoke as he mounted the steps. Raven bit her lip and thanked God for the pain to distract her. The last thing she needed was to feel desire for him. Worse, to have him guess how he made her feel. That way led to disaster.

Jackson strode past them. She heard the door to her room open, then water splash in the shower. She burrowed her face against Taggert’s chest at the pain she knew would come.

“Phone call first.”

There was only a small hiccup in Taggert’s stride as they neared the bathroom. “After. We need to clean your wounds.”

Raven swallowed hard and admitted the truth she wanted to hide from them. “I don’t think I’ll be conscious later.”

Jackson voice rose above the beat of water. “Dominic is handling Scotts.”

No more stalling. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath...as much as her body allowed. “Lower me.”

Jackson took control and spoke. “Your legs won’t hold.”

Something in his voice let her know that her back was worse than she’d imagined. It couldn’t be a good sign it had grown numb. “Cut my clothes off.” The only sound in the room was their breathing and the shower as his claws took quick work of her clothes. 

Although they tried to be gentle, blood had already sealed the material to her skin. “We’re going to have to let the water soak the material. If we pull it off, the wounds will rip open.”

Raven nodded, unable to speak above the knot in her throat. This would hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. She laid her forehead against Taggert’s chest and braced herself. She would’ve protested Taggert’s prolonged contact with her blood, but she feared the damage was already done to the both of them. He craved her touch a little too much; already saw her energy when she worked with her gift ever since that first unguarded touch at
Talons
. Even with her power burned away for the time being, the best thing for both of them would be to wash quickly.

The lukewarm spray hit Taggert’s back, the water inching closer, sloshing over his shoulders as he tried to protect her. He turned slowly, the agony taking forever as it burrowed into each of her wounds. Fire erupted along her back, and the blessed numbness wore off.

Raven couldn’t prevent the tears that fell and coated Taggert’s shoulder. She gritted her teeth, refusing to bend, refusing to break and howl with the pain. By the time they turned the shower off, she was exhausted and barely clinging to consciousness.

Taggert lowered her legs slowly, each movement a new torture for her. Weaving on her feet, she felt Jackson cut away her pants. Both politely turned their heads when they tucked her into bed on her stomach. The cover rested low on her back, the last thing she felt was a brush of lips against her unmarred shoulder as she succumbed to darkness.

The sound of the shower turning off woke her a little bit later. Jackson rested awkwardly in the chair next to the bed, those whiskey eyes of his slitted, watching her as he pretended to sleep.

A shadow by the bathroom drew her gaze, and she nearly choked on her breath when Taggert strolled out with a towel so small it barely clung to his waist. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, fearful that if she blinked, she’d miss seeing the towel slip.

His chest was lean and roped with muscles and so smooth she wanted to touch it to see if his skin was as hot as it looked. Though he didn’t glance at her, she’d swear he knew she was watching. His movements slowed.

And he dropped his towel. Her eyes grew dry, and she blinked once. As he put on his clothes, he managed to turn so she saw every inch of him. Then she saw his back. Healed. Each scar, each mark, healed. The heat of a blush filled her cheeks, and she jerked her head away. And met Jackson’s amused gaze. “Pack is very comfortable with each other and their own nakedness.”

What an understatement. She distantly heard a drawer open, but refused to turn and be drawn in further. Jackson stood, his gaze locked on hers, and pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles of his body flexed and moved in such a sensual way, she could feel her body warm despite the throb of pain in her back.

She felt ambushed. She closed her eyes, released a shuttering breath and vowed not to open them again until she was alone.

“I’m going to take a shower. Watch over her.”