Raven Investigation 04 - Electric Legend (11 page)

He held no grudge, honestly believing that he did nothing
wrong by threatening her men. Two weak shifters, rogues who had no other place
to go, bracketed Jackson, but didn’t touch. They couldn’t take him in a fight,
and they knew it. With one last silent look meant to reassure her, he allowed
them to lead him away.

He would win, she had to believe that.

She probed the dragon, wanting some damned answers, but the
blasted beast won’t budge.

She was beginning to hate the silence.

“You will remain in the cage until the gates open as a reminder
that you are a part of a pack and your actions have consequences. You will be
remanded to your quarters for the rest of the night.”

Effectively cutting her off from connecting with her pack or
anyone else. By separating her, he was keeping her weak and biddable.

That might work for a normal shifter, but she’d been alone
for most of her life. She’d be damned if she allowed anyone else to try and control
her, much less an unorganized pack of monsters.

But Raven knew when to play her part and nodded obediently.

A satisfied smile crossed his face. “Then it’s settled.
Let’s get ready to open the doors.”

DAY TWO: FIRST CARNIVAL SHOW OF
THE EVENING

R
aven sat in the overheated trailer behind the
circus, the air suffocating, her wet clothes becoming constricting as they dried.
As the sun began its descent and disappeared over the horizon, the lights from
the circus lit up the outside world, making the shadows in the trailer darker. Music
sounded muted, voices just a murmur, easily tuned out. She’d devoured the small
tray of food they left her in less than five minutes, hunger still gnawing at
her stomach. They thought her human and only gave her enough to keep a bird
alive.

She might not be able to shift, but she needed the calories
as much as a true shifter. If she waited too long, the energy she harbored took
the decision from her and started consuming the life force of everyone around
her.

She could run, and her pack would follow. Even before she
finished that thought, the dragon wrapped its tail around her feet in a demand
that they stay. “Then tell me why?”

Only silence greeted her. It grated on her nerves, and her
frustration felt ready to boil over. If she didn’t do something soon, she would
explode.

Raven reluctantly backed down, deciding to trust the dragon
a little longer. They wouldn’t leave yet, not unless she wasn’t given a choice.
If what the dragon said was true, one of them was destined to die.

The tiny confines of the trailer shrank as she paced. She
scratched her arm, ready to crawl out of her skin. The creature stretched,
giving a soft rumble of comfort to ease the feeling of being trapped.

Ever since her dragon had awakened, her emotions had gone
super nova, primal one moment, switching back to human the next. Shifters went
through the same when they crested and came into their animal form for the
first time.

She struggled to balance the two halves of her soul.

It had been working.

She thought back to what triggered her backslide, and
slumped against the wall in realization … it was the instant she became
separated from her pack.

Needing something to do with the excess energy before she
began climbing the walls, she tied back her hair, shoved what little furniture
she could out of the way, and launched into the work out London recommended.
The large Kodiak bear was her security guy and determined to beat her into
shape. He didn’t take it easy on her, demanding she do things that shouldn’t be
possible for a human.

Shifters were stronger and faster, pack members trained to
fight at birth.

To say they were born weapons wouldn’t be an understatement.

If she trained hard enough, learned to fight, muscle memory
would take over in battle. As the dragon became further integrated, so would
her strength and speed. It wouldn’t replace years of practice, but it could
keep her alive.

 After an hour, her bruised muscles burned as they began to
heal. The stifling air left her skin slick, her shirt sticking to her back, and
the only sound in the room her harsh breathing. Light shone into the trailer
from the one window. Something about it appeared brighter than normal,
sparkling like a diamond in the darkness, and she peered upward.

The dragon surged forward, and her senses swam into focus. Images
became sharper.

And her breath caught.

High on the Ferris wheel Taggert climbed the metal cage and
cables like a god-be-damned monkey, no fear or hesitation in his smooth movements.
Her breath hiccupped in her chest as he leapt from one bar to the next, closing
the five-foot gap with a flex of muscles and no concern for his safety. He
stopped at a tiny black box, opened it and tinkered with something inside. Less
than a minute later, the large wheel began to spin.

Pulse thundering in her ears, she watched as Taggert leaned
over, grabbed the bar, and slid down the metal, much too fast for her heart to
take.

Just before he reached the cart, he leapt, spun through the
air and disappeared from sight. Raven launched to her feet to see more, but
he’d vanished.

Raven closed her eyes, the air vanishing from her lungs.
Without a second hesitation, she dropped into the pure energy that made up her
bones. The dragon rumbled in protest, tugging the power back, trying to prevent
her from doing anything rash.

Raven shoved back.

She needed to know Taggert had survived.

The dragon bared its many sharp teeth and swatted her like a
fly, her giant claw pinning her down.

Raven dropped to her knees, the energy fizzling as common
sense returned. She couldn’t run off half-cocked. Taggert was alive or she
would’ve felt the reverberations through the pack. She closed her eyes, purposely
didn’t touch her power, but scanned the lines connecting her to the pack. Three
lines were pure bright blue, no hint of magical taint … Taggert, Durant and
Jackson. Another rippled off into the distance, a little dimmer than the others.
She reached out, her hand hovering over the current and a rich spice filled her
mind.

Rylan.

A vampire.

It should be impossible to physically claim him. They were a
different species.

But Raven was eternally grateful, pleasure thrumming under
her skin as she discovered the forbidden tie.

She carefully withdrew, not wanting to draw him into danger.
Half a dozen other lines appeared, so faded they resembled phantom ribbons—the
rest of the people she’d unofficially claimed. They weren’t as strong as pack
bonds, weaker without the blood oath.

She’d never seen anything like it.

Fascinated by the discovery, she traced the lines to the
source, and couldn’t have been more surprised to encounter her dragon.

Talons tightened on the cords as if afraid she would sever
them, such possessiveness in the hold that she knew they would both die before
the creature would release its hold. It might not be legal in the eyes of the
shifters, but it was good enough for both of them. Raven waited for the rush of
blind panic at being tied to so many people, but instead, a knot of tension she’d
been holding onto for years began to unravel.

The dragon allowed her to be around others without the fear
of killing them. Between the two of them, her pack would remain safe.

That was if they managed to survive this little escapade.

Taggert was taking too many chances, his control shaky at
best. Shifters needed touch other pack members to keep them grounded … keep
them human. To be denied was considered drastic punishment. She needed to touch
Taggert to see if she could calm him before he lost control completely.

Opening her eyes, she studied the door, listening for any movement
beyond it.

Nothing.

No breathing, no scuffling of feet or brush of clothing.

Climbing to her feet, she crept toward the door, and slowly
turned the knob.

The door sprang open as if she’d kicked it. Raven lunged
forward and grabbed the knob, clenching in horror as she overbalanced and
tumbled outside. She stumbled but landed on her feet.

The darkness seemed denser, more dangerous.

She took a few hesitant steps, surprised when no one raised
an alarm.

They hadn’t even bothered to lock the door.

They relied so much on obedience, they never thought a puny
human would defy them, and hadn’t bothered with a jailor to enforce their rule.

Only a sheet of canvas separated her from the circus, and
she found the opening on the second try, the trampled path barely discernable
in the dark. She kept to the fringes, staying away from the workers ambling
along like wolves prowling amongst the sheep, and headed toward the Ferris
wheel.

The last spot she’d seen Taggert.

He tensed, sensing her long before he saw her, always aware
of her presence when she was near. It both baffled her and left her leery,
hating that he was so cognizant of her every movement. Her stupid heart didn’t
care, thumping against her ribs in pleasure at the attention. Taggert dropped
his tools and edged his way through the crowd toward her like a shark cutting
through water. People scrambled out of his way. Without saying a word, he
grabbed her arm and dragged her into a large tent.

The place was packed, over a hundred people crowded in the
bench seats, their attention riveted on the show. Taggert didn’t allow her to linger,
dragging her out of the way of prying eyes, dropping her arm only when they
were concealed under the bleachers. With so many people cramped in the small
place, no shifter would be able to pick out her scent unless they were looking
for her specifically, and maybe not even then.

Only the bottoms of people’s legs were visible, the ripe stench
of their feet so intense she almost gagged. The tightening around Taggert’s
eyes said he noticed it, too. Even with the ability to sort smells, she
imagined the intensity had to be much worse for him. His special ability was
tracking, able to pick up the smallest scents. Since he couldn’t shift, he’d
adapted for survival.

The perfect evolution.

What would take humans generations of mutations took them a
single lifetime.

Dirt kicked up each time her foot landed. Taggert was more
graceful, his feet barely disturbing the surface as he walked. Wrappers
littered the floor, toppled plastic cups, and more than a few gobs of chewed
gum. They stopped only when they had a clear view of the center of the tent.

Taggert stared at her, his expression growing darker as his
patience snapped. “Why put yourself in danger by leaving the trailer? It’s a
stupid risk. If you’re caught, they’ll punish you.”

Raven ignored his question, fury burning through her. “I saw
you climb that wheel. What the hell were you thinking by risking your life like
that?”

Taggert’s brows rose in confusion before his face softened.
“You were worried about me.”

The back of her throat ached at the marvel in his voice over
something as simple as someone caring about him. She wanted to smack him. “Of
course I worry.”

“I was never in any danger. The fall wouldn’t have killed
me.”

He might have a point, but it nearly gave her a heart attack
to see him suspended in the air with no thought to his safety. “It might not
kill you, but you wouldn’t have escaped unscathed, either.”

His expression smoothed out, ever impassive, and her heart
lurched at the way he shielded himself away from her as he had when they first
met. Hiding himself from her as if he thought she might hurt him. His reaction
devastated her. “Taggert—”

“You put yourself in danger without a second’s hesitation
almost every day. How is that different?”

Raven huffed, but didn’t have any answers, none that didn’t
make her sound hypocritical. A cheer rose from the crowd, the aroma of sweat
and fear, awe and anxiety, a toxic and addicting combination.

She twisted until she could see what held everyone so
captivated. A set of six dancers stood in the center of the ring, their movements
so in tandem they couldn’t be human. They tumbled through the air, balanced on
hands and feet in impossible displays of strength. Women dressed in see-through
scarves, shimmering in a way only professional belly dancers could duplicate,
wove around the men. “What’s happening?”

“They run this show twice a night.” He came to stand next to
her, not stopping until his arm brushed against hers.

“It’s too much to see all at once.” Her eyes couldn’t take
in everything all at once. At the other end of the ring, a man threw small
machetes at a woman tied to a spinning wheel. Another man walked around blowing
five-foot flames over the crowd, then swallowing the fire. She somehow doubted
the man had a talent for it by the way he winced, his smile more of a grimace
of teeth, but shifters could heal even from the most severe injuries.

Taggert nodded. “That’s the point. They have a couple of
acts at the same time to keep people distracted. It leaves them with a bit of
mystery, keeps the humans from observing them too closely. Right now, it’s all
fun and games, but the instant they see what we can really do, the enjoyment
can morph into fear.”

As all the acts cleared the ring, a big bear of a man strode
to the center toward the smallest car ever built, the roof standing no taller
than her waist. She counted at least five people packed inside the vehicle. She
couldn’t help but wonder if they had to break bones to make themselves all fit.

Calm as can be, the man stooped and picked up the rear of
the car and pushed it out of the ring. Nothing said ‘not human’ more than
pushing a thousand pounds of metal and flesh round without breaking into a
sweat.

The ringmaster entered the ring, and the crowd cheered.
“You’ve been waiting for this all night. I must warn you, this next act is
dangerous, and very few people have seen anything like it. Don’t make any
sudden moves or draw attention to yourself in any way, or I can’t guarantee
your safety. Those faint of heart should leave now.”

No one so much as twitched.

Tension crept up her neck, a deep foreboding darkening the
edges of her vision.

“Don’t.” Only when Taggert spoke and grabbed her arm did
Raven become aware that she’d been shuffling closer.

She didn’t know if she wanted to see better or try to put a
stop to what was going to happen.

“I present you with The Wild Wolf of the Great North.”

People cheered and a man with a bullwhip entered the small
area. The leather strap twisted through the air like a living thing, graceful
and smooth, hypnotizing with its movements. With a twist of his wrist, the
sharp snap of the whip made her jump.

A wooden sign on the pole cracked in two and clattered to
the ground.

The crowd gasped and clapped their appreciation. Raven
remained frozen, apprehension dropping onto her like a ton of bricks when
Jackson entered the ring next wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants. Tan
muscles gleamed in the spotlight, not an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. He
didn’t strut about, didn’t flash his body. There was no need. Even standing still,
he exuded power, a living, breathing work of art.