Electric Moon (28 page)

Griffin came up to her side, moving fast. He took one look
at her face and shook his head. “You really aren’t very good at staying out of
trouble, are you.”

Raven grimaced at the comment. “Anyone come outside?”

“Not from this end.” They rounded the last corner to see
Taggert and Jase emerge.

Alone.

“How could we have missed him?” Taggert swiped a hand
through his hair. “I was following his scent, but it just disappeared ten feet
from the door. I can try to pick it back up again, but with so much
contamination, it would take a while.”

Her lead had slipped right through her fingers, slapping
them in the face on the way for good measure. “No sense backtracking. He’ll be
long gone by now.”

“But he dropped these.” Jase lifted his hand to show a clear
strip of plastic between his fingers.

She held them up to her nose, smelled chemicals but no
formaldehyde. Could she have been wrong? “He probably took a hit to cover his
scent and dropped the rest in his haste.”

“Let’s head back home. There’s nothing more we can find
here. I want to see what we can learn from this drug.”

As they drove home, Raven came to one reluctant conclusion.
“Vivian isn’t a viable suspect. She liked being in control, liked being the only
alpha female. The drug was engineered to do the complete opposite.”

Aaron nodded, as reluctant as her to give up his mother as a
suspect. “No amount of money would entice her to relinquish her power over
others.”

“So where does that leave us?” Griffin’s voice held no
inflection. He’d already come to the same conclusion days ago. That’s the real
reason why he wormed his way into her household.

“Without Vivian, all we’re left with are the rogues.” The very
same rogue pack that she’d allowed to live behind her house. She’d insulted
their leader, stole his people, and now she was trying to steal his miracle
drug.

No wonder he was so determined to kill her.

Jase didn’t confirm or deny anything, but his worried gaze
latched onto hers as if troubled that she’d hold him personally responsible.
She gave him a small smile. Instead of being reassured, he flinched and turned
to stare out the window.

Taggert remained silent, his expression grim, clearly
deducing what her fate would be if they didn’t catch the rogue first. Any hope
that she could continue her case without involving her pack evaporated. Taggert
would make sure the rest discovered the truth.

She would have to work fast to keep them safe.  

If it wasn’t already too late.

* * *

“Can you tell me what’s in this?” Raven debated whether to
send the samples to the police to do the analysis or not. Her hesitation
stemmed from the fear that what they found would go on record. Shifters
couldn’t afford to have the drugs reproduced or distributed. To eliminate them
that way would prove too high of a casualty rate for everyone involved.

The peace between humans and shifters was too volatile. She
ignored the little voice of her conscience that said she was part of the police
and supposed to help them, not withhold information. Her only saving hope was
that if she solved the case, it wouldn’t matter.

Digger peered up from his work at the table, his eyes owlish
in the dim light. “It will take me a few hours to run a couple of tests.”

When he wandered away, Raven heaved a sigh of relief and
hurried up the stairs. She knew she should ask what he’d learned about the
tests he ran on Taggert, but it was too soon after the claiming. She wanted to
remain oblivious for a little while longer in case she had to send him away to
keep him safe.

She was half way across the foyer when she spotted Jase
lurking in the shadows, haggard and pale.

“Can we talk?” His adams apple bobbed when he spoke.

“Of course.” Raven walked toward her office. He came slowly,
all but dragging his feet.

He was leaving her.

She barely sat behind the desk when he spoke.

“I’m supposed to kill you.” Any nuance in Jase’s voice was
stripped away. He stood before her, a firm grip on his knife, showing he knew
what to do with it.

Raven tensed as he padded toward the desk.

Then he very deliberately set the knife on the wooden
surface and retreated to the middle of the room.

That’s all he said.

He stared at the wall, waiting for judgment. His silence,
the bruises, all made sense now.

“What do you think should be done?”

He swallowed hard. “Disloyalty is punishable by death.” His
voice broke painfully.

Raven lifted the knife and circled the desk. “See, now
that’s the problem. As far as I see it, you were loyal to your pack.”

Jase’s eyes snapped toward her.

“Loyal to me.” She held out the knife, handle first. “What
more can I ask?”

He made no move to take the weapon. “I don’t understand.”

“I’d like you to stay. You’ve proven yourself loyal and
resourceful. I can use someone like you.” She walked up to him, pausing inches
from his face, so close she didn’t even think he breathed. “Next time you run
across a problem, come to me sooner.”

“But the rogue will come after you. Not only did you challenge
his rule in front of his men, you took three people from his pack. He can’t let
it go unanswered.”

A smile stretched her face, nothing remotely friendly in the
gesture. “Let him.”

“But—”

“He wanted me dead before the challenge, before you came to
us. You’re only an excuse.” She gave a wry smile. “Unless you would prefer not
to stay. This isn’t the safest place.”

Jase studied her for a full minute then tentatively accepted
the knife, the awe in his eyes so painful to witness, her throat closed.

“My life is yours.”

Raven watched him leave, a spring in his steps that had been
missing.

It felt good to have at least one thing go right tonight.

She mounted the stairs, distracted by the case, when an unnatural
silence crept over her. She measured the distance to the study where her
weapons laid and gauged if she’d be able to close the distance in time. London
entered the foyer. He spoke, but she heard nothing.

Magic brushed against her, heavy, invading her body with
each breath. It drifted down from upstairs like a net to capture all within its
grasp.

To hell with waiting.

 Chapter Twenty-nine

R
aven
took the remaining steps three at a time. London nearly overtook her. She
shoved off the wall and ran full tilt toward Aaron’s room and the heavier pull
of magic.

She threw open the door. Jackson stood like a sentinel at
the window, fighting two shifters while trying to shove a third one back over
the windowsill.

London pointed left before charging into the fray to help
Jackson.

Aaron was on the floor, barely holding off the blade angled
for his throat. Raven swung back her leg, her boot catching the large shifter square
in the face. Bones gave, the face caved and the body launched backwards.

All without sound.

It was unnerving to fight without the added element. She
hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on her senses.

Blood pooled around Aaron’s leg where he’d taken a hit. Another
wicked wound carved along his forearm where the skin pulled away from flesh.

When he tensed, her attention flashed up to see the shifter
on all fours. Even as she watched, his teeth lengthened, his claws pushed from
his fingers, creating large notches across the floor.

Anger took over. Raven yanked off her gloves and lifted her
hand toward the wall. Electricity teemed in the wires and arced into her
outstretched palm, closing the foot gap. The surge of power bowed her back, but
the sharp pain was more delicious than crippling, and she soaked up all the
beautiful current.

The shifter’s eyes widened at the display. Sensing his prey
was about to be snatched away, he charged.

Raven launched herself into him headfirst.

Bodies collided.

Her back crashed to the floor. They slid a few feet, her
shirt riding up her back, and she lost a layer of skin on the carpet as they grappled
for purchase. Teeth tore viciously into the fleshly part of her shoulder, the
pain stealing the air from her lungs. She lost hold on one of his arms and ribbons
of agony slashed down her side.

Raven gave up trying to fight fair. She laid her hands on bare
flesh, one around his throat and another over his heart to complete the circuit.

The charge immediately leapt into him.

Fangs and claws receded.

Her palms heated, but she refused to allow him to retreat.
If she lost her hold, he would go for Aaron again.

Only when burnt flesh filled the room did she relent.

He had enough.

But when she tried to pull back, the creature she harbored flexed
her talons, refusing to be denied their prey.

A snarl of rage worked up her throat.

She would not be used.

Raven tried to wiggle away, put distance between them, but
his weight pinned her beneath his bulk.

Blood trickled from his eyes and nose. His jaw clenched so tight
his teeth cracked. Bile rose in her throat as she watched his blood slowly boil
him from the inside out.

Horrified by the sight, she arched her back, twisting until
they rolled. Scalding blood poured over her at the action.

Sputtering, Raven scrambled away from the shifter. Her back
hit the wall, and she frantically swiped to get the gore off her face.

The taste of his blood lingered in her mouth. A fierce
satisfaction spread from the center of her chest, the cold beast at her core
staring out in pride at her work.

The shifter crawled to get away, dragging his body behind
him to escape. Aaron limped forward, the knife in his hand gleaming. Raven
tried to speak, but the damn spell wouldn’t release her.

Aaron calmly sliced the throat of the shifter that had been
sent to kill him.

Death shrouded the room. Despite the destruction of all four
would-be assassins, magic continued to swirl in the confined space. She tracked
the source, the spell rising like a poisonous gas from the corpse nearest
London.

Launching to her feet, Raven rolled the body onto his back.
A necklace rest over his chest, all but glowing with power. She yanked until
the chain came away in her hand. Her creature hissed at the contact. The magic began
to feed off the energy around her core now that the shifters fueling it were
dead.

She couldn’t shut down.

The one comfort with her power was that she’d always been
the one in charge.

But she wasn’t now.

The knowledge that she could be controlled, used against her
will, both terrified and infuriated her.

Raven sent a burst of raw electricity into the amulet, the
source of the threat. Only to have the medallion eagerly soak up the charge. Panic
slithered into her gut before she could squash it, eating up precious seconds, when
a reckless idea began to take root. Not giving herself a chance to think, she
quickly followed the current into the necklace.

It dropped her into the spell.

She found herself staring down at a man sleeping peaceful,
his form almost indistinguishable to the darkness around him.

The creature charged, slashing at the image, and she saw the
man’s cheek slice open. He swore, jerking upright. He immediately spotted the
connection. He chanted a few words she didn’t recognize, and their link
shattered like a pop of a light bulb.

Raven landed on her ass, completely exhausted. Sounds
whooshed back into the room, loud after such a long absence. The amulet lay
blackened in her fists, the weight heavy as if it still carried all that magic
locked inside.

Her creature growled, circled what remained of her core like
a mother with a nest before curling around it.

Leaving her without an ounce of spark.

“What is it?” Jackson reached for the chain, and Raven jerked
it away.

“A spell, but with a nasty parting gift if we managed to
kill the attackers. It’s best you don’t have any contact with it until we know
it’s completely dead.” And it was her only connection to the mystery man.

Aaron came to stand before her, his pant leg and shirt
stained with blood. He held her gloves out to her and formally bowed. “Thank
you for saving my life.”

* * *

Raven stood in the shower long after the blood had washed
down the drain. Despite the hot water, she shivered, remembering the bitter cold
as the specter of death hovered over her attacker, ready to consume him, and
she’d been helpless to do anything about it.

She wanted to take the easy way and blame the necklace for
everything, but it wouldn’t be the complete truth.

The creature had craved vengeance.

She slammed her palm against the wall. She’d thought she’d
been getting better.

“You can’t stay in there forever. Your wounds need to be
treated.”

Taggert stood in front of the sink, sorting through the abundance
of first aid products. Conceding defeat, she shut off the water and wrapped the
towel around herself. Her shoulder and side ached, though she barely registered
the pain. “The bleeding has already stopped. I’ll bandage them.”

Taggert stepped toward her, and her back thudded into the
wall. She hadn’t even been aware of moving away from him.

“You will not hurt me.”

He sounded so damn confident.

“I nearly killed that man.”

Taggert only shrugged. “If it had been any of us, we
wouldn’t have hesitated. Very few shifters would be strong enough to stop when
their pack is threatened.”

Then he very deliberately held out his hand to her.

Daring her.

Her fingers twitched when she lifted her hand and placed her
fingers in his. She watched his face, ready to bolt at the least bit of
reservation or fear.

Other than a crackle of static, nothing happened.

Taggert hauled her closer, propped her ass against the sink,
and assessed her injuries.

“You can’t just assume that I won’t hurt you.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Your power knew what
it was doing. It wouldn’t destroy something it’s already claimed. If you doubt
me, talk to Digger.” There was no reproach in his words, just gentle chiding.

“You assume it thinks and feels.”

“Don’t you?” Taggert peeled down the side of her towel,
preserving her modestly so only her back and side were exposed. Her shoulder
had a bite mark that displayed a full set of uppers and lowers. The puncture
marks from the fangs were jagged, but at least she hadn’t lost a chunk of
flesh.

Taggert sprayed antibiotic on her shoulder and bandaged it.
He bent to view her side where four claws sliced down her ribs, narrowly missing
her soft underbelly. “The slashes are too close together. Any stitches will
pull at the wound and pucker the skin.”

But he didn’t stop inspecting her side. “What is it?”

He pointed to an area just above her hipbone. “The skin
around this area appears bruised, but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

 Raven glanced down at the fist-sized spot. “I must have
knocked into something during the fight.”

But she couldn’t recall. A sickening feeling of dread surged
through her, a terror so deep she slammed the door against it before it could
take hold.

She had to be wrong.

She ran a finger lightly over the area. Coldness met her touch,
the surface hard. Her fingertips picked up subtle ridge details, and she could
almost detect a pattern if she concentrated hard enough.

Then the placement hit her.

It rested directly over the void, a dead spot where her body
could no longer hold current. She’d burned herself out, and it had never healed
properly.

Unwilling to share her worry until she had time to learn the
truth, she lied through her teeth. “I’m fine. Why don’t you head off to bed.
It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Taggert recognized the brush-off but relented without a word
at whatever he saw in her expression. He might have allowed her to fob him off
for now, but he wouldn’t forget.

Once alone, she dropped the towel and wrapped her ribs. After
an hour of pacing, Raven worked up her nerve and headed downstairs to see if
Digger had made any progress.

The basement was silent, the only sounds were of machines
whirling. Without shifting his attention from his work, Digger waved her closer.
“The drugs are absorbed into the system by placing a tab on the tongue. The chemicals
dissolve almost instantly, the delivery system fast enough to affect shifters.”

His explanation made sense. “This drug grants some shifters
alpha characteristics for a few hours but it kills others.”

A frown wrinkled Digger face. “Small doses shouldn’t be lethal.”

“But?”

“A resin had been added in the drug to overcome our high
metabolism. The resin suppresses oxidation, so the drug remains in the system
longer.”

“So a timed release.”

“Shifters run hot. Some too hot. Our natural temperature can
cause the resin in the drug to breakdown too fast and form formaldehyde. And
since rogues are closer to going feral, they run hotter and are the most
vulnerable.

“Once formaldehyde binds to their system, there is no way to
flush it out. Shifters have a low tolerance, so once they reach the saturation
point...”

“Kaboom.”

Digger nodded, a troubled expression marring his face.

“Are there any symptoms?”

“Headaches, burning sensations in the mucous membranes, but
by then, it’s already too late.”

That explained when the guy at the diner grabbed his head
and the couple in the car. The urgency of the situation ratcheted up another
notch. Raven curled her hands into fists, feeling useless. “The deaths won’t
just stop even if we warn everyone. They crave the chance at freedom too much. The
more they use the drug, the more the chemicals will build up in their systems.”

Raven shook her head at the worst-case scenario and focused
on those she could help now. “Since we have a handle on what we’re dealing with,
will any of that help Jamie?”

“He will be fine, well past the point his body would’ve
reacted to the chemicals. The small percentage in his system slowed his
healing. All we can do is wait for him to mend. A day or two more at the most.”