Electric Storm (7 page)

“If the truth of this gets out, the humans will panic again.” The hard mask he always wore sharpened with his conviction. He ran a distracted hand through his hair. She didn’t think he directed his comment at her. It was more talking out loud, but it hit her anyway.

Memories of the horror of the paranormal conflict ten years ago filled the car with tension. People hunting the paranormal community. The police unable to control either paranormals or the humans. The skirmishes and slaughter of innocents on both sides. It only stopped when the government issued a new law that made paranormals legal citizens, their deaths punishable by law.

At least that was what we were led to believe.

“Scotts knows what he’s doing.”

“That human?” The emotions on his face shut down, and he snorted.

Anger roared back to life. “Do you really think this is the first case we’ve come across?” She gave him a cynical look. “You’re a fool.”

“Must be nice coming from someone who doesn’t understand what it’s like to live inside the pack. Things are different. Rules have to be maintained. You’ve never had to watch people you know gunned down and murdered. Never knowing who’d be next.”

A bubble of laughter worked its way up her throat. “You pompous ass. Do you actually believe the wolves have it worse than anyone else?” She cast him a cynical glance, then focused on the road again. “Funny, but I saw bodies from both sides of the war. Wolves were very few and far between.”

The animosity in the air made breathing difficult. “The pack takes care of their own. We’ll find the killer. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s why you said an animal and human tore them apart when you know damn well a shifter was responsible.” Her shoulders slumped. That mentality only made it harder on the paranormal community. It raised suspicions and created a dangerous situation. Vigilante justice. If the public learned of it, a rift would form and all the races would suffer. The dunderhead didn’t understand or was too stubborn to care. “Scotts is a good man. He’s trained for these types of situations. He knows when he’s over his head.”

“And he calls you? What the hell good will that do?” A harsh laugh grated on her nerves. “I bet you’re even in favor of the new paranormal unit joke the government is trying to enforce.”

And just like that, any connection she felt to him was severed. “Maybe if you got rid of that big chip on your shoulder and paid attention to the world outside your pack, you’d know that something needs to be done before everything blows up in our faces.” She would not go back to the war.

“It’s a last-ditch pity attempt to appease the breeds.”

She grimaced when he used the slur humans flung at them. “So what. Who cares, if it actually works.” If Jackson wanted to play cop, he was more than welcome. But she would not allow him to jeopardize everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. If he thought to step in on her case, he’d quickly find out why she was so good at her job.

 
Chapter Six

“
T
his isn’t working. One call and I know I can convince them to make an exception. There are a few days left of the auction.”

Raven drew up short outside her room at Jackson’s comment. She was surprised to feel the pinch of betrayal even though she knew it would be the best decision for all of them. Especially since the scene at the park an hour ago.

“I want to stay.” There was only a calmness in that voice. She didn’t understand it.

“She won’t be able to keep you. She’s not registered. If the council demands proof of her suitability, she won’t be able to pass the tests.” The soft tone revealed a compassion for the boy she’d never expected.

He cared. It created a picture of a man determined to protect. She couldn’t fault him that despite his low opinion of her, but his comment prodded her curiosity. Tests? What tests? She crept closer.

“You’re wrong.” Taggert seemed equally convinced.

She took the last two steps and entered the doorway. Taggert stood in front of her dresser, touching the few possessions that she left out, but otherwise avoiding Jackson. His submissive nature made her feel very protective. An illusion. Both men had their backs to her. In comparing them, she was shocked to realize Taggert wasn’t much smaller in stature than Jackson.

As if sensing her regard, Taggert lifted his head and their eyes met in the mirror. He instantly dropped his hand, but didn’t release her gaze. She could detect nothing in his expression that indicated any type of emotion.

“You said I was allowed to choose any room.”

His empty bag rested near the bay window. When she looked back at him, he’d turned to face her. She’d bet her life he knew this was her room. Not that she used it often, as sleep was a rarity for her, but what little possessions she’d accumulated were here.

Then she saw the slight flexing of his fingers. Somehow he knew and still chose it. She didn’t believe it was to pick a fight, but she had to know why.

“Yet you selected mine.” She stepped closer to them, unwilling to back down without him giving her something. Everything about him was so controlled she doubted he even knew how to be spontaneous. Maybe if she pushed and broke through his shell, he’d drop the act.

Taggert’s eyes flickered and little crow marks appeared at the corners. Then his expression cleared, leaving her with a pleasant man with no personality. “I’ll move if it displeases you.”

Jackson stepped between them, blocking her view. “Pack members usually bunk together as a rule.”

“A rule?” She studied his face closely, but couldn’t see or smell a lie on him. The thought of sleeping with two attractive men within touching distance, alone, did weird things to her body.

She wished she could say it was fear, but she knew that for a lie.

Normally dormant, she was surprised when the beasts around her core crept closer to the surface. Though she’d never been able to tell the animals apart, they were becoming bolder since Taggert and Jackson moved into the house. She shivered at the thought and what it could mean.

“Yes.” Jackson kept changing his mind about her as it suited him, and it irritated the snot out of her. “Am I pack now?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “To be pack, the alpha has to petition the council or take a pledge of blood. For Taggert, there’s no reversing that but death. Are you ready for that step?”

His blunt comment took her aback.

“She doesn’t have to decide yet.”

Raven peered around Jackson’s shoulder at Taggert, admiring the way he stood up to Jackson. She had to wonder if it was fear of her turning him away that prompted him to speak or if he was defending her.

“I don’t spend much time in this room. If I sleep at all, it’s usually on a cot in the basement between work. I’m not sure–”

“I promise not to get in your way.” His earnest answer hurt.

Her heart thudded in her chest, a heavy, pounding rhythm. Could she do it? Her control wavered when she slept. Dreams haunted her sleep, dreams of the dead, ghosts asking for help. What if she hurt him? She bit her lip, contemplating the ramifications.

“He’s not use to sleeping alone,” Jackson prodded her. “Touch for a shifter is an important part of building trust. Denying him is also considered a punishment.”

It irritated her that he kept stepping between them, almost like he was afraid to have her focus on Taggert.

Or he was jealous, which was preposterous. 

She felt herself weakening. What he said matched too closely to what she’d learned in the labs for him to be pulling one over on her. A little spurt of fear at even contemplating such an action couldn’t keep that damn curiosity at bay. “No funny business?”

They both solemnly shook their heads.

“And you? Are you fine to sleep alone?” The only reaction was a flinch around his eyes.

“I will be within calling distance.”

His answer gave her pause. Though she didn’t want him in her bed, she liked it even less knowing he’d be watching, listening, and free to wander.

And a tiny part of her wanted him there with her. His presence irritated the hell out of her, but she could relate to him.

“I’ll bring in a cot or a couch.” He bristled, and Raven raised a brow. “You said it yourself, you’re here to protect him. I doubt he’d raise any alarm if I tried anything.”

Safety in numbers. Neither would try anything with the other in the room and maybe she could work on her control. If anything happened, Jackson would protect Taggert. 

Taggert smiled slightly, his bland persona once more firmly in place. She couldn’t help narrow her eyes a little. There was something beneath the surface, something she couldn’t put her finger on that plagued her.

Then it hit her. It was the way he watched her, picked up small clues about herself that she’d tried so hard to eradicate. It left her feeling very exposed.

“Fine.” Jackson bit off the one-word answer, and she wondered if he agreed just to distract her from her line of thought. Then a muscle ticked in his jaw, and his adam’s apple bobbed. The big fraud was as nervous about sharing a room as her.

The second she opened her mouth, the fire alarm blared. Raven closed her eyes and sighed. “Gentlemen, dinner is ready.” The comical looks of dismay on their faces had her smiling. Shifters loved their food, burning through calories at an amazing rate. This was going to be an unforgettable stay for them.

Both men followed her down the stairs. Though she couldn’t hear them, she could sense them crowding close to her back. Even before they reached the kitchen, the smell of caramelized, burnt food clogged the air.

The odor grew worse when they opened the door. Everyone was seated, waiting for them. Raven swallowed hard at all the food. Jackson sat, but Raven couldn’t make herself move. Taggert remained glued close to her side, his distress barely contained.

“Dina, I hope you don’t mind, but Taggert wanted to show me some home-style recipes.” Taggert instantly nodded, his eyes fixated on the scorched food in wide-eyed horror.

“Another cook in the house? I don’t mind at all. Maybe later we can trade recipes.” She gave a sunny smile and continued to pile everyone’s plate. Taggert instantly went to the fridge and started taking out supplies. Raven grabbed an apple and shoved it in her mouth.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t refute the lie. After one bite, his chewing slowed and his throat bobbed painfully as he swallowed, gazing at her to get him out of there.

The malicious side of her said to leave him, while the compassionate side of her argued to rescue him. When she remained silent, his eyes narrowed. She’d no doubt pay for her rebellion later, but a little vengeance felt good.

A tiny smile played about Dominic’s mouth as he watched the interaction. “While we eat, let’s catch you up on the case we’re running down.”

Raven hesitated, surprised at the laid-back comment from Mr. Super-Secret. “Now?”

He spared the two men a brief glance and shrugged. “From the way I understand it, they’re yours for the next month. If anything leaks, we’ll know the source.”

“If she would’ve come to the meeting, we wouldn’t have to re-hash everything.” Trish took a sip of the ever-present wine at her side. The food on her plate remained untouched.

“She had other things to attend.” Dominic kept his tone firm but even.

Trish stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly in the room. She slapped the table with enough force that everything clattered. Jackson stopped moving, the predator in him rising to the surface. One wrong step and he’d be at her throat. Taggert didn’t react at all to the violence as he continued to make food, which surprised Raven the most. He trusted her to protect him.

“Why does she deserve special treatment all the time? You always come after one of us if we’re late or don’t show. Even in the compound, they treated her better than us. Why?”

Heart pounding, Raven slowly faced Trish and her accusation. “I was treated no differently.”

“I didn’t hear the guards enter your cell, then brag about their conquest. How many times a day did they visit you?” Fury rolled through her, her voice rising.