Raven Investigation 04 - Electric Legend (15 page)

She’d barely survived.

With wild magic coursing through her blood, she might not come
back sane if it happened again.

Current snapped along her skin, seeping into the air as her
fear rose, no longer contained by the dragon. If she couldn’t grab it fast, she’d
end up putting her pack in more danger.

They would get themselves killed trying to protect her.

The threat was enough to give the dragon pause.

Tiny pieces of armor slotted together under her skin, effectively
caging the power.

From the outside, she appeared nothing more than human … as
long as no one touched her.

Tips of claws pressed into her chest for daring to question
the dragon’s loyalty.  

Raven came to a stop in front of Jackson to see worry tightening
his brows. Wishing she knew what the hell she was doing, she lifted her hand,
but hesitated to reach out to him.

Jackson had no such qualms.

He boldly stepped into her touch. Right before impact, a
spark arched between them. Her palms stung as her flesh heated, and her fingers
flexed, pressing into his chest just short of drawing blood.

Jackson’s back bowed, and he pushed himself closer.

The extra energy leaked into him, boosting his beast until
all his senses had to be on fire.

The armor melted until bare skin touched skin.

A growl rumbled up from his chest, but it carried no pain
whatsoever. Pleasure tingled through her at his obvious enjoyment.

He didn’t seem to care about her clumsy fumbling around in
the shifter world.

She shuffled closer, the desire to wrap herself around him
overwhelming.

Clancy shoved his way through the crowd, thunder darkening
his face. Jackson twisted, putting himself between them, and she saw his claws slowly
lengthen.

“Not here. Too many casualties.” Unable to resist, she touched
his back, then brushed her hands down warm muscles, enjoying the slight tremble
he couldn’t control. “Soon.”

He inhaled, his chest expanding at the double meaning of her
words, and her cheeks heated at the unintended flirtation.

Clancy grabbed Jackson’s wrist and lifted his arm in the air.
“The winner!”

The crowd cheered and pushed forward, eager to greet the new
champion. Some just wanted to be close to his prowess, others wanted to touch,
while some males reeked of testosterone, sizing him up as some prize.

Fear left a sour taste in her mouth, possessiveness crushing
her in its grip.

As soon as Jackson lost or stepped out of line, he would be
put up to bid for the next hunt.

He’d just been proven too dangerous to keep.

T
he crowd surged toward Jackson, and Raven stepped
back to avoid being touched, the current still riding her hard. Sensing her
unease, Greggory stood at her side like a sentry, pushing back a few curious
people.

“We should leave now.”

Something about the total lack of emotion in his voice
caused her to stiffen. Instead of looking at him, she went up on tiptoes, desperate
to spot Jackson in the throng of people, but he’d been swallowed up by the
crowd.

Raven allowed herself to be lured away, but she had no
intention of leaving. As they neared the door, she launched herself up and glided
through the air. She landed lightly, crouched on top of the bleachers. There
was no extra boost of energy. The dragon hadn’t taken over. The action was all
instinct. She should be anxious at the ease she managed to jump ten feet
without thinking twice. It meant the barriers between her and the beast she’d
harbored were failing. Soon, there would be nothing separating them, but she
couldn’t seem to make herself care.

If she was going to live in the kill-or-be-killed shifter
world, she needed all the edge she could get.

Greggory cursed and quickly followed. “You’re taking chances
that can get us all killed, little queen.”

A chill slithered down her spine at the casual title, but he
made no move to stop her.

It wasn’t fear that held him back, and it disturbed her that
she wasn’t able to discern his true motives. Right now he pandered to her, but
she had no illusions. The instant she went against what he wanted, he would go through
her to get it.

From her vantage point, Jackson remained in the center of
the ring, standing perfectly still. A few women flirted, but he kept his eyes
trained over their heads, not paying them any attention. But she couldn’t get
rid of the image of them circling around him like birds of prey.

Some grew bolder at his lack of attention, running their
hands over him. Raven swallowed hard, muscles trembling under the strain not to
leap to his aide and defend her claim. One woman didn’t like being ignored and
dragged her nails down his chest, leaving bright red welts behind.

Marking him.

A growl rumbled up her throat. To prevent herself from going
over there, ripping off her arm and beating her with it, Raven gripped the top
of the bleachers until the wood splintered under her touch. It could’ve been made
of sawdust at the ease it fell apart.

Then she realized what was actually happening. A red haze
filled her vision until all she wanted was to tear everyone apart. “They’re
going to auction him off.”

Greggory stood motionless as if afraid that any action on
his part might draw her ire.

Smart man.

Clancy raised his arms, and the crowd quieted. He faced
Jackson and rocked back on his feet, all good cheer like an evil Santa Claus. “As
a bonus for your win, you get the choice of what you want to do for the remainder
of the night. You can spend the evening running free in the forest or you may select
a woman of your choice.”

Raven blinked at the innocent options, her suspicions
confirmed when a few of the men smirked, while the women fluffed up their hair
or stuck out their chests. Her heart grew heavy, then crumbled to dust. “It
doesn’t matter what option he selects, does it?”

Greggory shook his head. “If he runs, the humans will chase
him until dawn. They use three-inch metal darts, painful enough to keep him
motivated, but not enough to kill. The guards will follow to keep the humans
safe. If he fights back, they will put him down.”

“And the women?”

He dropped his eyes from hers. “Some just want to brag they
had sex with a shifter. Others want the thrill of danger.”

He didn’t say more, holding something back, and her insides
turned to lead. “Or?”

His face twisted in obvious reluctance. “Some men and women
like to inflict pain. If he chooses the wrong one, he could be whipped and
tortured for hours. Either way, Clancy gets paid.”

Blood drained from her face until the tent seemed to sway.
Raven very much doubted she could stand by and watch him walk off with another
woman or listen to him be tortured. The dragon agreed, rising under her skin,
fury bubbling in her veins.

The crowd grew quiet as they waited for Jackson’s choice. Her
claws thunked into the wood beneath her palms, gouging grooves into the bench.

“A woman of my choice.”

That was the last thing she expected him to say, and her
heart twisted at his gruff voice. Raven went cold, no longer able to feel her
skin, struggling to find enough air to breathe. She knew she couldn’t keep the
men to herself forever, but his answer devastated her, the loss leaving her
feeling like a hollowed-out husk.

As the women jockeyed for position, Raven wanted to march
over there and challenge them for Jackson. Her pulse pounded in her skull. She
couldn’t watch him choose another woman, not when she wasn’t sure she could control
her urge to draw blood.

Raven dropped from the bleachers and stumbled to keep her
feet under her when she landed. She strode toward the exit, her dragon fighting
her every step of the way, tearing up her insides with the need to fight for
Jackson.

He deserved more than what she could offer.

He deserved a choice. 

“I want her.”

Silence followed.

People shifted their feet as they turned and a murmur went
through the crowd. As if a thousand spiders swarmed over her, Raven froze,
hunching her shoulders as dozens of eyes landed on her.

“Little queen,” Greggory whispered her name.

She turned slowly to see the crowd part, and Jackson stride
toward her, his muscles rippling, his sole focus on reaching her. Heat flooded
his eyes as their gazes met, a promise of what he would do when he got his
hands on her.

The crippling pain of him picking another woman evaporated
as hunger to touch him roared to life.

Then Clancy stepped between them. “You misunderstood.”

Jackson continued marching forward, stopping just a breath away,
his face hardening with determination. “You said any woman in the room.”

Fangs flashed as he spoke, the threat palpable.

Tension swamped the tent, the humans shifting uncomfortably.
Clancy noticed the subtle change in attitude, his eyes narrowing in calculation.
He couldn’t risk being seen as a liar or a cheat or he would lose the local
clientele. It would cost him less to forfeit a night than lose customers. He smiled
congenially, then stepped out of the way. “You are correct. Enjoy your
evening.”

His smile was more gritted teeth than anything pleasant.
There would be no forgive or forget with him. Come morning, they could expect
retaliation.

Then Jackson stood before her, his delicious heat soaking
into her skin. One irrational, totally stupid thought popped into her head—any
punishment was worth not seeing Jackson leave with someone else.

Jackson bent and tossed her over his shoulder.

Raven squeaked at the unexpected move, squirmed in automatic
protest, but his hold only tightened. The crowd cheered at the caveman tactic,
then they were outside, her added weight not even slowing him down.

Then she became distracted by all the lovely flesh within
touching distance.

Raven trailed a finger down his spine, enjoying the warm
contact … until she encountered a large bruise covering his lower back. The
sight snapped her back, and she could’ve kicked herself for getting distracted.

“You’re hurt.” Raven jerked her hand back, afraid to touch
him and hurt him worse. She wiggled to be set free, wanting to gauge the damage
he’d suffered. “Put me down.”

“No.” The grumble rumbled in his chest, and his arms clamped
down around her legs. “You’re not hurting me.”

Raven shivered at his husky tone, then her breath caught as
his hand slid up the back of her thighs, and she squirmed for an entirely
different reason, uncertain if she was trying to get away or get closer. She
almost whimpered when his hand stopped moving. Giving into the impulse to touch
him back, Raven took advantage of her position, and the legitimate excuse to
touch him, and carefully traced his ribs.

She would keep it professional and ignore the need to kiss
him to see if he tasted as good as he looked.

Jackson gave a snuffling snort, the sound caught between
human and beast. “My ribs aren’t broken. Your extra boost of energy healed them
already.”

She jumped, guilty at being caught. She should’ve pulled
back, kept things clinical, but she fell under his spell, her palms tingling at
the contact of warm skin, miscalculating the effect he had on her.

One touch just wasn’t enough.

His scent of fresh grass invaded her lungs until she wanted
to bury her face against him and inhale. His stride hitched, then his pace
increased. Before too long, he halted in front of a trailer. Jackson thrust
open the door, and she promptly found herself placed on her feet. She wobbled
at the abrupt loss of his support as he practically scrambled to get away from
her.

His chest heaved, but more than exertion caused his
reaction. Fighting brought out their animal’s primitive side. He might be in
human form, but inside, he was full beast. She wanted to examine his wounds and
heal him, but didn’t dare get close.

Unless she wanted to be flat on her back, she needed to show
him who was in charge.

She needed to show dominance.

The trailer was gutted, the room sparsely furnished with a
table, a set of chairs and a very large bed that took up a quarter of the space.
She twisted to keep Jackson in view, her skin tingling with awareness, very conscious
of the bed looming behind her. She licked her lips, nerves dancing in the pit
of her stomach, and she cursed her body’s fickle reaction. “Sit on the chair.”

Energy vibrated around him, a seductive warmth she ached to
rub against until she was surrounded by nothing but his delicious scent. She waited
for him to disobey and lunge at her, but to her surprise and—if she was honest
with herself—disappointment, he listened. He brought the chair to the middle of
the room, less than a foot from her, then sat, never once taking his gaze from
her.

She felt his eyes on her body, studying every inch of her,
almost as if deciding which part he wanted to devour first.

She’d gotten him to listen, but that didn’t mean she was in
charge.

She needed to take control.

When she stepped forward, he reached for her, and she
quickly slapped his hands. “No. Hands on your knees.”

Again, he obeyed, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his
legs to keep from reaching for her. Though the wolf in him retreated a little
bit more, he still remained more beast than man. The barely there shorts hugged
his form to perfection, leaving his powerful legs on full display. Roped
muscles twitched as he struggled to stay still, an all-powerful machine tuned
to perfection—and all of that attention was focused on her.

A tiny thrill twisted through her at seeing him submit to
her, and the way he couldn’t control his obvious desire.  

 “You took too many chances out there. You let him land too
many blows.” She stepped closer, but quickly halted when his muscles rippled,
whether in anticipation of her touch or to lunge at her, she didn’t know. His
chest heaved, his whiskey-brown eyes splintered and gleamed a bright green as
he studied his prey.

When he tipped his head a certain way, she realized he was
trying to catch her scent.

Her own breath hiccupped in her chest as the tension ratcheted
up another notch. If he even suspected that she wanted his touch—craved it—there
would be no way to prevent him from taking what he wanted.

Not when she desired him just as much.

One touch from him and all her control would vanish.

“It was the only way to get close to him. I couldn’t keep
dancing around him forever. He’s so used to landing blows he’s never learned
how to take them.”

His gruff words broke the spell, and Raven narrowed her eyes,
fury balling into her gut. “You based your whole strategy on a guess?” Her
voice took a sharper edge, rising slightly at the end.

“I’m an enforcer. I’m trained to study my opponent and
devise the best way to bring him down.” More and more of the man returned with
the conversation.

His calm only infuriated her more, but his complete
confidence in his answer deflated her anger a fraction. She might not like his
decisions, but it was backed up by years of experience. Irritation flickered in
her for a few more seconds before she dismissed it and walked around him. She tried
to study his body for injury, but kept getting distracted by what he wore … or
more precisely, what little he wore.

Those blasted tiny shorts.

They revealed everything.

Especially his blatant erection.

She swallowed hard, waiting for familiar anxiety to swamp
her at being trapped with him, would have almost preferred it to the mixed
emotions ripping through her gut—possessiveness, along with the overwhelming need
to touch and taste.

It took all her willpower to tear her gaze away.

Looking at the rest of his body wasn’t much better. He was
covered in blood and sweat, bruises littering his torso. A gash over his eye
still bled sluggishly, while a nasty bruise darkened his jaw. His lip was
split. A shiner colored one eye. Bruised ribs. All of his injuries were painful
but not life-threatening.

He would be all right.

Her throat tightened in relief.

But what about next time?

Life taught him how to fight, and he had a tolerance for
pain, but the constant shifting into his wolf would eventually exhaust him.

He couldn’t go into that ring again. She couldn’t bear to
see him beaten into unconsciousness. Something inside her would snap.