Authors: Stacey Brutger
Tags: #Electricity, #Female assassins, #Paranormal, #Storm, #Raven, #Conduit, #stacey brutger, #slave, #Electric, #A Raven Investigation Novel, #Kick-Ass Heroine, #alpha, #paranormal romance, #Brutger, #Urban, #Fiction - Fantasy, #urban fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Electric Storm, #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Fantasy - Contemporary
“Jackson has some medical training. Maybe he can–”
“You’re a healer?” Confusion swirled inside her. “Then why haven’t you healed his back?”
The men stilled, studying her again. Something in their expressions drew on old suspicions that had kept her alive in the labs long after those around her had died. She took another step back, facing both of them. “Why doesn’t your animal heal your wounds or clear your system of drugs?”
They exchanged a silent glance and dread tightened her gut. The boy turned to her, his head bowed both in submission and curiosity. “Shifters can’t be drugged. Our metabolism acts too fast for anything to affect our system.”
Raven shook her head. “At first I thought it was the necklace that wouldn’t allow your beast to heal, but it’s not.” If what they said was true, it was her duty to protect the kid. Until she could find a safer place for him, she was stuck with the job. That meant she had to own up to her responsibilities.
“Continual dosing over a long period of time can lead to drugs lingering in your system.” They did it to her and others often enough in the labs. She stepped forward, maintaining her distance from the Ogre...er, Jackson. “May I?”
When she stretched out her arm, the boy flinched. She pulled away. “I need to check something. You have my word I won’t touch you.”
A dusky rose filled his cheeks. “I’m yours to command.”
Horror sliced through her at his soft refrain. “I’m no one’s master.” She almost lost her courage, almost left him to his own devices, but there was something shattered in his eyes that she recognized.
She lifted her hand again, palms outward, her heart stuttering at being so close and having all that naked male chest on display. “Don’t move.” She pressed closer, narrowing the space separating them to a few inches. Heat poured off his skin. She closed her eyes, concentrated, searching for the energy field that surrounded the living. Most people labeled it an aura. It bowed under her touch, fluctuating wildly at the intrusion.
Sparks snapped around her, melding with his shield, testing, judging and finding the source of the sickness ravishing his beast. Any attraction vanished, replaced by concern. To heal him completely would take more out of both of them than she was willing to risk at the moment, revealing more of herself than she was comfortable. The drugs would have to sweat out of his system the normal way.
With a little more push, she focused on the opened wounds on his back, forcing them to mend by redirecting the energy in his body to the injuries.
An abrupt, half growl made her jerk back. Her eyes snapped wide to find Jackson pulling the kid away. When both men looked at her, their eyes had gone neon yellow.
“What did you do?”
The guttural question stung like a reprimand. She curled her fingers into fists and lifted her chin, refusing to back down. She had done nothing wrong. Jackson had no right to judge her when he demanded that she take responsibility for the kid in the first place. “He was injured. I healed him.”
She shook off her irritation and faced the kid. “Your metabolism should drive the drug out of your system in the next day or so. You’ll be hungry, queasy but you should start feeling normal.”
They stared at her like she was a freak. Their perusal needled her pride, and she stiffened her spine. Maybe it was better this way. She spent her life keeping her distance from others. She didn’t know what it was about the boy that had her forgetting her own rules.
“Food’s in the kitchen, take any open room upstairs. We’ll talk in the morning about other arrangements.”
DAY TWO: MORNING
T
he smell of hickory coffee penetrated Raven’s preoccupation, and she stretched at the computer, the long night leaving her exhausted. Her mouth watered, and she gazed longingly at the empty counter space.
Damn Dominic and his rules. His first order of business had been to remove her coffeemaker and place it upstairs, spouting such claptrap that she’d never emerge from her cave otherwise.
With a disgusted sigh, she lifted her fingers off the keyboard and watched her computer power down. One way to maintain security was to build a computer that only she could run. Who else in this world would be able to power the machine just by touch? Any tampering would melt the hard drive.
Another whiff of dark brew invaded her senses. She pushed back the chair and rose, tugging on her gloves, feeling more herself with the added protection. The vampire case would have to wait, the prep work, a must when dealing with the paranormal, was mostly done. The meeting to see if she would accept the job wasn’t until ten tonight.
Vampire hours, you got to love them.
The lights flickered and turned off as she walked by, the basement suite built for convenience, sustained by her power. The reinforced cinder walls able to withstand whatever she could throw at them without harming anyone else. In theory. She hadn’t had to put it to the test yet.
Her knuckles whitened on the knob. A quick scan confirmed she had all her power locked down tight, leaving her feel strangely vulnerable not to have the threads of energy at her beck and call. Maybe today she could have a conversation without running away like a coward.
She pulled the door open and promptly tripped over the body sprawled at the base of the door. With a yelp, she stumbled, nearly taking a digger on the floor before catching her balance.
Crouching, she pressed one hand against the wall and dropped the shields that took hours to prepare. Energy immediately leapt at her touch as if starved for the very taste of her. She drank the current from the wires like a glutton and forced her body to take more as she scanned the room for any threat. Static crackled across her skin, the hair on her arms stood to attention.
“Morning.”
The boy pushed himself up from where he rested, turning until he had his back to the wall so they were eye level.
When no danger lashed out at her, she jerked her touch away from the wall. Energy slithered over her skin, luring her to attack and not wait for a fight. She inhaled carefully but found no stench of an intruder or coppery scent of blood. “Are you injured?”
“No.” Sleep left his voice husky, drawing her attention to him. A bashful smile brightened his face. He ran a hand through his shaggy, sun-streaked mop of hair, only to have the straight strands fell back carelessly around his shoulders. A warm flush crept into her cheeks and her heart tripped at the sexy, rumpled look of him.
“Why were you on the floor?” Disgruntled by the array of emotions that flickered through her in the space of five seconds, she dropped her gaze, rose, and brushed off her pants.
“I must’ve fallen asleep.”
She eyed him critically, searching for the lie. “On the floor?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked on the word. “What on earth for?”
“Because he doesn’t like strange places and you left him alone. He wasn’t going to give you a chance to slip away.” The Ogre sauntered down the stairs, comfortable with his body and her house in a way that had her swallowing hard. His dark brown hair was still damp from his shower, a slight curl that softened his face despite the thunderous expression he directed at her.
She gritted her teeth, reminding herself that despite all that masculinity, an ass still lived beneath the surface.
“I gave my word.” Raven straightened to face him and even managed not to wince, because she
had
intended to find a new place for them.
The boy stood gracefully, no worse for wear, and she craned her neck back to meet his gaze. She didn’t remember him being so tall yesterday.
All he did was stare at her, unmoving, not breathing. Feeling self-conscious and flustered at the deep curiosity, she gathered up her hair, pinning it at the nape of her neck to cover the distinctive silver that continued to eat away at the tips of the black strands. A side effect from using her powers.
At her movement, his expression blanked. He picked up his small duffle bag, a guitar case and nodded to her. “Where would you like me to store my things?”
The bag couldn’t hold more than a few shirts and an extra pair of pants. “Where’s the rest?”
She received a shrug in answer. The silence frustrated her, reminded her of the prison. Stay quiet, don’t bring attention to yourself and draw their focus.
The memories left her stomach with knots the size of boulders. “I need coffee.” She needed space. Turning away, she headed toward the kitchen. “Just find a room and throw your stuff in there.”
Thankfully, they didn’t follow her, and she had the kitchen to herself for the moment. She didn’t know where the others were and was grateful for the time alone. Dumping those two and moving on was becoming a lot more complicated than she had anticipated.
She grabbed three donuts, hungry for the calories, and devoured them in less than a minute. Shifters needed nearly double the calories in a day to be able to keep dominance over their animal form. If she didn’t eat, her body looked elsewhere for the energy, ready to cannibalize whatever or whoever was near. She grabbed a fourth when the door whooshed open.
London walked into the room, dropped the morning paper on the table, and prowled around without a sound. She would’ve said he lumbered like his animal counterpart, but he was more graceful than any bear she’d ever seen. Everything about him was blunt, from his short, cropped black hair to his attitude to the scent of leaves that always seemed to cling to him. There was an underlying violence in him waiting to erupt. She suspected he was a hybrid, but had never asked. Crossbreeds were a sore subject with him.
London and her had an unsteady truce. She kept her distance, and he pretended she didn’t exist. Communication between them was kept to any mention of security for the team. The arrangement worked.
She poured her first cup of coffee, took a sip when he spoke. “They’ll cause problems.”
And promptly burnt her tongue. When she found his dark eyes pinned to hers, she bit back the curse that rose to her lips. “I know.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll beef up security.” He slapped an inch thick piece of ham between two slices of bread and was gone.
“Making friends with the big boy?” Trish sauntered in the room, her robe barley covering the small negligee she sported, her waist-length, long black hair swishing at her back like a tail. She poured herself a cup of coffee and rested her hip causally against the counter. Stiffness lined the other woman’s movements, revealing how uncomfortable she was being alone with Raven.
Mockery darkened Trish’s eyes, animosity pouring off the sleek little panther, but Raven refrained from saying anything. No fighting. Rule one of the house. Though Trish couldn’t have known the outcome, Raven suspected the woman had set up last night’s debacle. She just couldn’t figure out why. As far as she knew, she’d never insulted the panther.
She was saved from actually asking the question when the boy and his protector entered.
“And who do we have here?” The honey purr of Trish’s voice froze the kid mid-step. Only his eyes moved as he located the source of the threat.
His heartbeat pounded at the base of his neck, his anxiety climbed. And in all that, he didn’t so much as twitch. Raven glanced between the boy and Trish, wondering if they knew each other, feeling oddly jealous and very protective of him.
“They’re off limits.”
An unbecoming flush filled Trish’s face, and she laughed nastily. “Of course they are. Your wish is our command.” With those bitter words, she disappeared out the door, but not without brushing close enough to the boy that their clothes touched. His nostrils flared at the ripe scent of Trish’s desire and the flood of cloying perfume she left in her wake.
Instead of pleasure, the boy shuddered, his shoulders hunched, almost curling into himself.
“Keep the cat away from him.” Jackson issued the order, violence dancing in his eyes. For some odd reason, she had the impression he held himself back from attacking Trish for Raven’s benefit.