Raven Investigation 04 - Electric Legend (9 page)

Being normal sucked.

She glanced up to see Durant study her intently, then gave
her a nod of understanding.

He would wait and bide his time.

Taggert was right to avoid bringing her to see the pens. If
she’d seen the abuse last night, there was no way she would’ve left without
freeing them. The way they treated the animals showed who the real monsters
were.

Now it looked like her people were caught in the same trap.

The circus had been doing replacing the people they’d lost
for a long time without being caught, more than just a few months.

They made a fatal flaw this time by grabbing the wrong
people. The way they treated their pack members was inexcusable, and she would
find a way to make those responsible pay.

In the meantime, she needed to figure out what was so
important that her dragon surrendered without a fight in order to remain at the
circus.

W
ith one cage left to clean and two hours until
the circus opened for business, Raven reluctantly pulled away from Durant and headed
toward the lion. Her clothes were soaked, her skin soggy after hours of
cleaning. She lingered outside the cage to find the wily old beast watching her
suspiciously. He had a metal collar around his throat and a chain connecting
him to the cage floor to limit his movements.

None of the others had the extra precaution.

Wildness clung to him, his human side nearly obliterated.

He didn’t have much time before he succumbed to his beast
completely.

“The chains indicate he’s available for auction.”

“Taggert.” Raven twitched as if she’d been shot. Her head
snapped up, and she twisted until she located him.

He stood to the other side of the cage, shadows clinging to
him, almost as if he were hiding from her. She tucked back a few strands of
hair that had escaped her clip behind her ear, feeling grungy and disheveled. It
was all she could do not to go over there and throw her arms around him. His rigid
posture didn’t invite company, still pissed as hell that she’d allowed herself
to be captured. If she stepped any closer, she doubted she’d be able to prevent
him from picking her up and running off with her, uncaring that it would put
others in danger.

 “Shifters are too violent, and humans don’t like being
knocked off the top of the food chain. When a shifter turns completely into his
beast and loses his human side, he’s marked with the collar. Humans will pay
big bucks to hunt one of these vicious beasts.”

To hunt one of their own was barbaric.

A chill snaked down her spine, and a horrible new and more
likely scenario wormed its way into her mind. 

Had people actually gone missing by someone stalking the
circus or was that some story Clancy concocted to justify the missing people?

She wanted to believe they’d escaped, but once bound to a
pack, shifters could be tracked. Clancy wasn’t the type of man who would just
let them go. He would’ve hunted them down and dragged them back.

But Taggert’s accusation just didn’t make any kind of sense.

No alpha would destroy his own pack by killing them off
one-by-one.

It would leave the pack weak, and a dominant man like him
would never stand for that.

Taggert’s eyes devoured her when his gaze dropped to her wet
shirt. Then his attention lifted to her face, particularly the nasty bruise
near her temple. Repressed violence hovered around him, ready to snap at the
smallest provocation, and worry prickled along her spine. “Tell me what’s
wrong.”

A snarl curled his lips, flashing a hint of fang, and his fingers
curled into fists. “They dragged you away, refused to let us see you, and you
ask what’s wrong?”

His voice rose with each word, rage vibrating in the air.
The animals in the cages shifted in agitation. Being near him riled them up, their
animal instincts kicking in at all that raw emotion.

Raven softened her voice so as not to set him off. “It’s
dangerous for you to sneak around.”

His chin lifted mutinously at the mild rebuke. “I can
protect myself. I’m not the one injured.”

“I’m fine. No harm done.” She didn’t like the way he hid
from her, and her chest hollowed out at the vast chasm opening between them. “Where
are you staying?”

He stepped into the light and grabbed the metal cage. “In a
tent with other shifters. They have me working to fix the rides.”

His eyes were the pure green of his wolf as he teetered on
the edge of his control. Worry clamped down hard on her gut. “Taggert—”

“This is my fault. If I hadn’t insisted we come here, none
of this would’ve happened.” Destructive self-hatred consumed him. And if he
didn’t tread carefully, he would do something foolish.

“You did nothing wrong. They set a trap on the road for us.
We would’ve ended up here either way.” Her heart tumbled at his turmoil, his
guilt eating him alive. Static snapped under her skin, desperate to reach out
and ease his agitated wolf. “I think we were brought here to save them.”

His face contorted in rage. “Save them?”

His fury bled past her shields, the strength stealing her
breath. If he didn’t tone down his anger, it would get him killed. “Do you
trust me?”

“Always.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“This pack is infected. Unless we stop them, they will continue
to spread evil wherever they go.”

“It’s not our place to interfere in other pack business. We’ll
leave and tell the council.”

Raven felt herself waver. Maybe he was right. Leave before
her pack could come to any further harm. When she opened her mouth, the dragon
thunked its claws into her in protest.

The creature didn’t want them to leave yet.

Her shoulders deflated in defeat, and Raven shook her head.

She would trust the beast.

For now.

So going against her instincts, they would stay. And unfortunately
for Taggert, she’d learned more about the paranormal world than he’d have liked.
“The pack crossed the line and attacked us first. We have a right to defend
ourselves. As soon as we escape, we lose that right. We’re no longer the
victim. The council will not be able to interfere, especially since the circus operates
with extra privileges outside their laws.”

With every word, his eyes darkened and she knew she’d
guessed right.

Raven didn’t feel betrayed by his ruse—he’d do anything to
keep her safe.

So they were at a stalemate.

The longer she stood unmoving, the more attention she drew
to herself. They needed to keep under the radar for the moment. Not wanting to
get caught talking with Taggert, she reluctantly backed away. The distance
actually hurt, and her breath caught as she issued her order. “You need to
leave.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t protest. Nor did
he leave. She gave him the only promise she could. “I’ll do my best to stay out
of trouble.”

“You always try.” A brief smile quirked his lips before
fading. “It just never works.”

His gaze swept over her, leaving heat in its wake. She took a
step toward him, gripping the bars of the cage to prevent herself from closing
the distance between them. As if pleased by her reaction, he backed into the
shadows. Even with her keen eyesight, he managed to disappear into the darkness.

Only when his woodsy scent faded did she know he was truly
gone. Ice thickened in her veins, and she feared that he’d do something stupid
to try and protect her.

The big cat no longer pretended to ignore her but watched
her every move with curiosity. The light brown colored eyes had dulled, his spirit
having dimmed over time. When she lifted the keys to the lock, his attention dropped
and became glued to the small gesture.

The thick chain around his neck dissuaded any kind of
escape, but the beast wouldn’t admit defeat.

The key turned in the lock, the door creaking as if it
hadn’t been opened in ages. Heart pounding at the risk, she eased inside the
pen. She kept her head down and washed out the cage. “What’s your name?”

A minute passed with no answer, the stubborn cuss pretending
that he didn’t understand. Raven wouldn’t be deterred. “Fine, I’ll call you
Leo. Eat the food. You’re going to need your strength.”

The large cat looked away, nose stuck in the air, blatantly
ignoring her.

“I left the poison out.”

“Go away.”

Raven nearly fell on her ass when he spoke in her mind.

The need to help at least one of them get free surged through
her. “And if I can help you escape?”

He snorted, stood, turned his back to her and sat.
“I’m
bound to the pack. They will hunt me down and kill me.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me you’re here of your own free
will like all the others?”

The beast huffed and stared at the forest in defeat.

Raven peered at him from under her lashes, carefully
spraying the pen of the filth he’d been living in. “You’re worried about being
hunted. Why does that matter when you’re killing yourself anyway?”

The lion roared in anger, lurching to his feet and charged
her. Raven flattened herself against the bars, but stubbornly stood her ground.
He stopped seconds before being jerked off his feet by the chain, leaving only
a few inches between them. No doubt if he could reach her, he would’ve tried to
remove her head from her body.

Raven glanced at the open door and raised a brow.

Freedom beckoned.

The lion stilled, gazing longing through the opening,
hesitation leaving his body rigid with indecision. More than a hundred pounds had
been whittled off his frame, his skin hanging on him. Matted hair covered most
of his body, while patches of his hide were bare where the fur had fallen out.
“What
are you?”

Raven shrugged, glad the dragon remained hidden. “A friend.”

He shook out his scruffy mane, but didn’t say anything for a
long moment. He mouth opened, tasting the air as if suspecting she were more
than human, but Raven kept herself locked down. He hesitated a moment longer before
finally making a decision.
“They will blame you. Punish you. Or worse.”

She squeezed the hose harder at the ominous tone, cleaning a
small section of the floor off before answering.

He was right. Helping him would put her whole plan in
danger, but a deep foreboding chilled her blood with the urgency to help him
escape. If he didn’t leave today, he wouldn’t be leaving at all.

“I’m new. I made a mistake. They can’t risk killing me until
we’re bound to the pack. I’m willing to risk it.” She switched to another
section of the glorified kennel, careful to keep out of range. “Are you?”

There wasn’t much left to clean. The circus would begin
soon. The sweltering heat cooled off as the night drew nearer.

Not much time remained.

“You can get help.” He gazed at her with dead eyes, all
unmoving, a hunter catching sight of its prey. She switched course, her words
emerging nothing more than a murmur. “Or you can get revenge.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”
The question was nothing
more than a growly reply.

Raven closed her eyes and stirred up the energy in her body.
As it built and spread through her system, she opened her eyes and saw the
world come alive with current as her second sight kicked in. She scanned the lion,
noticing weak lines of energy danced around him, a thin thread that still
connected him to the pack disappearing off in the distance. It would be easy to
cut the cord tying him to Clancy using a sharp burst of current to disturb the
energy, but the backlash would reverberate through the whole pack. If the boost
of energy didn’t kill him outright, it could send his beast into a frenzy and
destroy the tiny shred of his humanity that remained. Only what little remained
of his tattered control would prevent his beast from taking over and possibly
killing her.

Even if she rescued him, he’d been animal too long. She
wasn’t sure he could turn completely human again without the help of a pack.

It was a catch twenty-two.

Either way, she’d end up destroying him … unless she channeled
the excess energy from the backlash into his human form.

She blinked twice, and her vision shifted back toward
normal. “The pack bonds are already weak. I can give you a boost of power,
enough energy to snap the ties. It will force you into a rogue and hurt like a
bitch, but they won’t be able to track you.”

Neither spoke as she finished cleaning the cage. The beast
twisted to keep her in view, but made no overt threats.

“Dangerous.”

He appeared contemplative, as if he were actually considering
their asinine scheme. Giddiness fluttered in her gut.

“Chances are good that you’ll die. Your beast will be
stronger than ever.” She strode toward the door. “Are you willing to risk it?”

The lion began to pace, his rolling gait smooth, all predator
on the prowl.
“Why me? I’m weak. Worthless.”

Bitterness tainted the words, reminding her what it had been
like when she and Rylan were imprisoned in the labs. She been suspicious of
anyone trying to help. It usually meant a trap and lead to pain and punishment.

Leo was a loose cannon, totally wild and unpredictable. A
complete ass. If he left, she doubted he would ever return. Despite all that, instinct
said it mattered that he be free. Her vow to be human flew right out the
window. “I almost gave up once, and someone pointed out my stupidity. I’m
returning the favor to you. You don’t have a choice. If you stay, you’ll die.”

He lumbered closer, his teeth flashing as he drew near. Her
body braced for his charge, but she didn’t back away. She was not prey. She
would not run. Metal gleamed from around his throat, the chain dragging behind
him like a steady rumble.
“Do it.”

Air rushed out of her lungs, and she licked her lips,
suddenly nervous at her rash promise. Unless she timed everything perfectly, they’d
discover she had more power than a human could possibly contain.

Her fingers twitched in anticipation of dipping into the pool
of current she carried. A tiny spark of hope that the energy had time to heal
and purge the taint of ancient magic from her body, but a sickening lurch of
nerves told her that she wasn’t going to be that lucky.

He stared at her expectantly, but when she didn’t move, the
fragile hope in his eyes brutally dimmed until only ashes remained. Helping him
would jeopardize everything. So why did doing nothing leave a gaping pit in her
stomach? When he turned away, she quickly grabbed the chain with both hands until
it stretched taut between them. “Wait.”

He stilled, his body practically vibrating with the need for
action, but he didn’t turn.