Electric Moon (27 page)

London unlocked the car and scowled at her over the roof.
“And too naive if you think that. You’re too attractive of a prize for anyone
to pass up.”

 Chapter Twenty-seven

SECOND DAY OF
THE CONCLAVE: WAXING MOON

R
aven
had spent most of last night staring at the full moon spilling into her room.
She hadn’t slept a wink, the moon’s call wreaking havoc on her body. She’d half
expected an attack from Vivian, especially since Aaron would be joining the
other teenagers in their first cresting tomorrow night.

Nothing came.

It made her suspicious.

They drove to the club in silence, the sun’s dying rays barely
tinged the horizon. In less than an hour, she would be claiming Taggert.
Raven’s stomach dipped at the possibility of being denied. Yesterday had been cutting
it too close.

As they entered the club, she marveled at how relaxed
Taggert appeared. He walked through the packed crowd with a confidence that
she’d never seen in him. The place was crammed with more people than last night
if that were possible. All the seats were taken, more than half the crowd standing
along the walls.

The noise level dipped as they made their way to their table,
like a novelty to be studied. Some were curious, while others sized her up,
determining if she were a threat to be removed. She filed those faces away to
remember for later as possible threats.

Her ass barely hit her seat when the council members slowly
filtered into the room. They were all pristinely dressed, each resuming the
same positions on the dais as the previous night. “Let the petitions begin.”

No one moved. Raven took her courage in both hands and
stood.

“You again.” The older wolf on the council scowled in
disgust.

Raven would not be deterred. “I have a petition.”

Someone on the council snorted, but Donaldson was the one
who spoke. “Why am I not surprised. Let’s hear it.”

“My claim is on the slave named Taggert.” The rest of her
speech vanished as Taggert stepped out of Durant’s office. When he’d left to
ready himself ten minutes ago for inspection, the last thing she expected was
to find him parading through the crowd like some Chippendale dancer on display
for all to see.

Taggert held his head high, and she realized he was showing
off for her. This ritual meant that he had been chosen. That someone had found
him good enough.

The collar sparkled under the light. Though slim, his
muscles drew her gaze, gleaming with oil that urged her to touch.

He was hers, and she disliked having to share him that way.

Then he came to stop in front of the council.

“What about the rumors that you’d removed the collar?” The lone
woman on the board rose. She wore a flowing skirt, not appearing to walk but
glide as she circled around Taggert.

Her dark hair was neatly pulled back, drawing attention to
her light coffee skin. Despite the faint wrinkles that dared to crowd the
corner of her eyes, her exotic appearance easily captured the audience.

It was only when she pinned Raven under her gaze that she understood
the power of the woman.

Her eyes were a dark brown, almost black.

Shadows moved in them.

The age of the woman pressed down on her, dragging her back
to when voodoo priestesses ruled. If she peered deep enough, Raven could see
tortured souls withering for mercy.

A warning.

Raven barely felt the undercurrent of magic. A moment ticked
off before she recognized it and brushed aside the sorcery. The woman’s eyes
changed to just plain brown again.

The experience left Raven shivering.

It’d been a spell.

But what version of the witch was the truth and which one
the lie?

“I was under the impression any tampering with the collar
killed the host.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She had removed the collar, but
Taggert took it upon himself to wear it again to protect her. From the
suspicious nature of the practitioner, Raven grudgingly admitted he might have
made the right decision. “Yet, he’s wearing it.”

The woman inclined her head. “Indeed.”

The curmudgeon wolf from yesterday rose and approached
Taggert. After a short inspection, he shook his head. “Weak. Unable to shift.”

Taggert didn’t give any overt sign he heard but for a flinch
around his eyes that made Raven want to smack the old man.

Abruptly, the old wolf leaned forward, caught a scent, and inhaled.
His head jerked up, and he whirled on her. “You claimed his blood.”

Raven relaxed her tense body, half expecting him to spring
at her throat. “His life was threatened. He was under my care. I took measures
to ensure his safety. The methods I chose were my decision.”

The wolf didn’t move as he continued to stare. Without a
word, he resumed his seat. There was something in his eyes. Respect or
foolishness, she wasn’t sure.

“That might explain this one, but what about Durant.” The
cat’s green eyes had been staring at her unblinking, his feet up on the dais until
then. Now, he pinned her under his gaze like she were prey.

She studied the group of people before her. This was much more
than a request for Taggert. This was an inquisition, and she stepped into it
without warning.

The trick pissed her off. “What does my petition have to do
with Durant?”

Trying not to leap to conclusions, feeling like she was called
to the carpet to be reprimanded, she battled with the sudden suspicions that
they wanted to take Durant away from her.

Unacceptable.

“Indulge us.”

“No.” Raven didn’t even hesitate. “My decisions are my own. Durant
is mine, claimed by blood.”

And she had no intention of releasing him. A slight murmur
ran through the crowd at her blunt refusal. More people paid attention to her
conversation than conducting their own business.

The cat straightened. “Durant is—”

“Not part of my petition. If you have any questions, you can
direct them to me at a later time where we can discuss your concerns in
private.”

“She’s right.” Donaldson brushed away the rest of the
protests. “Any objections to her claim?”

A brush of magic curled around her much like walking into a
mess of cobwebs. The practitioner spoke, a ruthlessness in her tone. “I don’t
have an objection, but I do have a stipulation. Spend one week at the coven after
the conclave ends, and you may keep your wolf.”

The sudden silence in the room was deafening. Even the stoic
Donaldson appeared alarmed by the request. Then he sent her a pointed look and
raised an eyebrow as if daring Raven to accept the challenge. The paranormal
community had a long memory. To them, a few hundred years was not enough time
to dull the harsh truth of their dual past. Magic users had enslaved shifters
as familiars to escape the consequences of expending too much magic in a short
amount of time by using the animals as proxy.

The truce between all races was shaky at best. She suspected
the only thing holding it together was the humans. They needed to provide a
united front against them. If the truce failed, the humans would have them
declared monsters and hunted.

“I will agree.” She held up a hand when Taggert whispered
her name. Even if he managed to survive the last few weeks of his five-year
term as a slave, the witch would make sure Taggert would either be claimed by
someone else or killed long before then. “But only if you agree that my stay
will be as your personal guest.”

The witch narrowed her spooky eyes. There was only one
reason she could think that they wanted her. They must smell magic on her. Practitioners
were possessive of magic, fewer people were born with the gift every year. When
one was found, they claimed the person as their own...if they were willing or
not.

Raven felt cornered and didn’t care for it one bit. But
there was a dangerous lure to their proposal as well. What if they could teach
her how to use her powers? Or maybe more importantly, what if they couldn’t?

The witch finally gave a regal nod. “Very well.”

She walked toward Taggert and cupped the collar. Raven didn’t
know what was supposed to happen, but nothing wasn’t it. A frown creased the witch’s
face, and she closed her eyes. Magic thickened the air, clogging her lungs like
breathing through water.

A tremor rocked the witch’s long, boney fingers. By the time
the lock disengaged, the witch was pail and sweaty. Taggert dropped to his
knees, not looking much better, and Raven locked her legs to keep from going to
him.

“There was no need to harm him. I gave my word.”

The witch’s eyes darkened. That was when Raven understood.
The witch knew someone had tampered with the collar.

“You owe me one week.” The witch whirled and stalked back
toward the dais, her long, multicolored skirt swaying with her agitated movements.

Raven wondered if she’d overstepped and created an enemy.

 Chapter Twenty-eight

T
here
was no time to celebrate Taggert’s emancipation. They had a rave to attend. Lights
of the city glowed in the distance, leaving the area with a wide-open feeling
of being exposed. The closest cover was the old steel factory two hundred yards
away. Music reverberated in the air, the pounding of the bass sounded like tribal
drums calling warriors to battle. Energy poured off the place, a powder keg
just ready for the match.

Raven just hoped she wasn’t the flame.

Griffin stood at her side, his expression impassive.

“You didn’t need to come.”

He’d opted to tag along when he learned where they were
going, claiming she couldn’t go alone. More likely to steal her viable lead, but
she could use the backup.

She had decided not to call the police. She justified her
actions by saying it was nothing more than a lead, but even she didn’t really
believe that. The cops were human, their presence would be too obvious.

But that was only part of the reason.

The police couldn’t be allowed to see the shifters so vulnerable.
They couldn’t be allowed to see them as a threat.

“I’ll keep my distance, but if you suspect they are running
the drugs through here, you have to be careful.” Hands on his hips, Griffin stared
unblinking at the building, lips tight as he imagined all that could go wrong. “If
you even hint at shutting them down, they will not hesitate to remove the
threat. For someone helpless, the chance to be an alpha, not to have to bow and
scrape for every little bit...they would kill for it.”

“Even if by taking the drug, they die?”

“Better to die free.” Jase mumbled, assessing the laughing
teenagers that entered the building.

Raven wasn’t sure how to take his comment. As if aware of the
attention on him, Jase turned toward her. “The drug isn’t real. It gives power
to people who don’t deserve it and can’t control it.”

She was surprised someone in his position would understand,
but maybe he comprehended it better than most.

They ducked behind the thirty-foot sliding garage door, the
walkway opened enough for them to squeeze through single file. The smell of urine
and rats indicated the place had been abandoned for some time. It made her miss
the subtleties and comforts of
Talons
.

The dirt path guided them through the maze of plastic sheets
that hung from the exposed rafters. Each step increased the decibel of the
music. A babble of voices rose.

After passing through the third plastic sheet, color lasers
flashed through the room. Taggert halted and lifted his face. “Booze and smoke.”

“Nothing else?”

He shook his head.

It was too much to hope that it could all be over so quickly.
But what if she found the drug? Did that really prove anything? They needed to
find someone to lead them to the source.

The main dance floor was packed with shifters, ages ranging
from fifteen all the way to their upper twenties. They were all relaxed, some laughing
and talking, others moving in beat with the music. There was an edge to them,
everyone hyped up on the energy of youth and high shifter metabolism. A dangerous
combination if the mood turned ugly.

Aaron flashed her a mischievous smile, grabbed her arm and
pulled her into the fray. Bodies brushed against hers, and she quickly lost
sight of the others.

“Wait.” Aaron either didn’t hear or purposely ignored her.
She suspected the latter. The kids threw themselves totally into the moment,
the rave the only real freedom they had until they crested. Living under the
shadow of the pack made everything a matter of life and death despite their
age. Even here, the shifters roamed in packs, small groups of threes and fours.

A surprising number of women were present.

They were on the other side of the warehouse in no time.
Aaron halted and surveyed the crowd. Without Taggert to stabilize her, she braced
for an overwhelming surge from her wolf, a demand for freedom.

Nothing.

Understanding hit, and she tightened her hand on Aaron.
“You’re protecting me.”

“Only a little. The animals of the younger ones are mostly
dormant. A strong alpha might be able to call them out if they are close to
cresting, but the effects of the moon calls to them differently. They meet here
to form their own alliances, some strong enough they remain throughout their
lives.”

“And the women?”

“They are allowed their freedom now, kind of like sowing
their wild oats if you would. They practice their wiles. They also know their
worth and wouldn’t risk their alpha’s ire if they overstep themselves.”

“How’d you get Jackson to let you come?”

“The rave is sacred. If I’m hurt here, it would be
investigated by the conclave. Mother would be caught, held for trial, and torn
apart by her very own pack.”

Cheers erupted from the side of the room, and Raven raised a
brow.

“They’re fighting for dominance.”

They found themselves jostled by the crowd, pushed closer to
the fight. “What about the rogues?”

“They are tolerated, more so than what the adults normally allow.”
He pulled her out of the wave moving forward. “They can pretend they are
someone else for a few nights a month.”

“That’s cruel.” To taunt them with what they could never
have.

“It’s their reality. They have a chance to make alliances if
they are smart and strong enough.”

“Soldiers to be sold to the highest bidder.”

“Better than going feral. They are allowed at the perimeter
of the pack. It keeps them sane.”

Another cheer rose, and Aaron allowed them to be jostled
closer. People moved out of his way, some even going as far as to bow. That’s
when she realized being the son of two strong alphas made him kind of like
royalty in their world.

As they drew closer to the commotion, Raven felt the
building power coming from the center of the group.

Alpha power.

Not waiting for Aaron now, she pushed her way through the
crowd. People grumbled, but quickly stepped out of her way when they recognized
her as an alpha.

At the center of the circle, two teenage boys who should
know better swung at each other, their nails sharp enough to cleave flesh down
to the bone with each strike. The fight was brutal, blood flowing freely.

When she would have stepped into the ring, Aaron grabbed her
arm. “They are fighting for alpha spot in the pack. A practice for the future.”

As she inhaled, she recognized the smell that she found on
the bodies, light, barely there. Urgency notched up with each blow. “You and I
both know this is something more.”

Aaron sighed as if she were overreacting. “You’re not going
to let this go.”

Raven winced when the dark haired boy landed a hard blow
that nearly took out the throat of the other kid. Some people gasped at the
near miss. If the other kid hadn’t twisted and taken the blow to his shoulder,
he would’ve been dead.

“They’re just kids.”

Aaron shook his head. “Do they look like kids playing a
game?”

The two kids circled each other, snarls harsh on the air,
each wounded but refusing to back down. The rest of the crowd quieted, noticing
the change, too. “They look like they plan to kill each other.”

He heaved a sigh at her prodding then glanced at the
fighters. He narrowed his eyes, immediately noticing something wasn’t right. A
muscle clenched in Aaron’s jaw, and he stepped forward.

There was no overt signs that Aaron did anything, nothing
that she would be able to pin back to him, but the fighters suddenly stopped,
clearly confused at what prompted their need to shed blood. One swayed on their
feet, desperately working to staunch a nasty wound to his side. The other dropped
to his knees and hung his head as if it were too heavy to hold upright anymore.

No wonder Vivian so feared her son. Instead of using him to
better the pack, she wanted to destroy the power that she couldn’t control. If
he ever challenged his father, he would gain possession of the pack, and dear
mother would lose her standing.

Raven stopped watching the action and scanned the crowd. She
didn’t have a clue what she was searching for until she saw one man scowling.
She nudged Aaron, but there was no way they could cross the room before he
disappeared.

Miraculously, out of the crowd of people, their gazes clashed.
The man blinked then stumbled back. He shoved into the crowd, never once taking
his eyes off her.

Like he knew her.

Or was told to keep an eye out for her.

Raven shot into the crowd after him.

“Wait!” Aaron charged after her, but she didn’t slow. She
followed the bob of the guy’s hat into a group of teens. It disappeared in
seconds.

Raven stopped and spun.

Nothing.

The large plastic sheet separating the warehouse waved from
an invisible wind. He’d ducked behind the wall into the part of the factory
housing the machinery. As she neared, the hat she had been following lay
trampled on the ground.

Not hesitating, she slashed through the plastic. From one
step to the next, she was plunged into darkness. The smell of dirt, old metal
and rust perpetrated the place. Sounds faded, muted by the plastic.

As if waiting for her, the man she’d been following tossed a
fifty-gallon drum at her. The blasted thing was too large to dodge. Metal
slammed into her with the force of a cannonball. She flew backwards, her body smashing
into the barrels like a demented game of human bowling.

By the time she struggled to her feet and navigated the
forest of barrels, the man had vanished.

Again.

“Raven?” Plastic crinkled when Aaron entered behind her.

The bright blob of the rave barely lit
the plastic behind him.

He took in the scene at a glance. “What way did he go?”

Hands on her hips, Raven surveyed the maze of stalls before
them. “I have no clue.”

But she had an idea. “Stay behind me.”

With a room full of shifters, this was either the best or
the worst idea she’d ever had. All she knew was she couldn’t let her lead go
without trying.

She called up her powers. It rose eagerly to her summons,
and she let the energy build. She sent out pulse. Like a ripple in a pond, the
wave expanded.

Aaron sucked in a breath, holding out his hands as if he
could feel the current in the air. “Holy shit.”

There was a ping.

“There.” She pointed to the right.

Only, they didn’t make it two steps before three more pings
sounded. “Damn it. There are more people in here.” She skidded to a stop at the
first spot and found a couple hastily pulling on their clothes. “Get back to
the rave.”

She watched them leave and heaved a sigh of frustration.
“We’ll never be able to check all the spots before he disappears.”

“Raven?” Taggert’s eyes glowed as he walked toward her
through the darkness.

“I lost my suspect. Can you scent him? His trail led back
here, but there are too many people for me to find quickly.”

“You’re hurt.”

Raven rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth, surprised
to find blood. “I’m fine, but we need to find him.”

Taggert inhaled, his chest expanding impressively. He turned
toward the left, a maniacal gleam in his eyes that wouldn’t be extinguished
without tasting vengeance, and shot into the darkness.

“I want him alive.”

When Raven moved to follow, Aaron grabbed her arm. “He’s
trapped. There is only one other exit from this side of the building. We can go
around the outside and head him off.”

That meant heading in the opposite direction instinct urged
her to go.

But Aaron was right. Taggert would flush him out.

The outside air hit her like a fist to the gut. Smells died
and the excess pressure from all the energy the shifters exuded vanished as
well. They ran full tilt around the shed, but she knew they would never make it
on time.