Electric Moon (9 page)

Something was wrong, like they were being pushed.

They had no intention of stopping until one of them was
dead.

She had to stop them, but her animals were nowhere to be
found, taking her alpha ability with them.

That only left her power.

Resignation settled in her gut.

The time for hiding had come to an end.

Raven allowed herself to be drawn to the window, the raw
strength of the storm luring her onto the balcony. She planted herself by the
railing and braced herself for what was to come.

Then she dropped her shields.

Power hummed low on the air, drowning out other sounds as it
drew closer. Lightning slashed through the sky and struck feet outside the
window. It crawled up the building, the wiring in the house guiding the wild
electricity up to her.

Raven thrusted her hand over the railing, and the jagged
bolt arched into her waiting palm. Pain and pleasure twisted inside her.
Holding the massive charge ripped up her insides like someone had stuck her
finger in a socket then tossed her out of a plane to add variety to her pain.
Jaw clenched, she turned and waved her arms.

Jackson and Griffin flew apart. Their bodies slammed into
opposite walls.

Absolute silence filled in the room. No one moved, not even
bothering to pick themselves up from where they’d landed.

Raven refused to flinch under their stares or read deeper
into their expressions. She already knew what they were thinking. She, too, was
horrified at what she’d become.

“My power is amplifying your aggression. Leave.” Even now, tiny
particles circled in the clouds about the house, the current building for
another strike.

And she had no way to stop it.

Wasn’t sure she wanted to.

The storm called to her.

It was uncontrollable.

Wild and addictive.

But she could only channel so much electricity. She could withstand
another strike, maybe two before burnout began to creep over her and shut her
down, then she was going to crash, and she didn’t want anyone to witness the
aftereffects.

“Everyone leave the room.”

When no one moved, she couldn’t keep the roar from her
voice. “Now!”  

Digger didn’t argue. He collected his bag and strode toward
the door, calmly going about his everyday business. Griffin rose, followed
Digger, all without turning his back on her.

Fierce need darkened Jackson’s eyes as he stood. Despite his
injuries, which were already healing, he closed the distance between him in the
boneless, muscular way of his kind.

She held her ground, barely resisting the urge to run, the need
to hide what she was becoming. When Jackson kept coming, panic caught her
breath in her chest. She couldn’t bear to have him touch her and discover just
how little of her remained human.

Power cracked into the floor between them, nearly tumbling Jackson
to his knees. Electricity leaked from her in a steady stream that she couldn’t
control, sending the charged air swirling in the room. The hair on his body
stood on end. The next strike would go for him whether she wanted it or not.
She could already feel it building.

She couldn’t allow that to happen. “You can’t stay. You have
to protect Aaron. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He pulled up short as if she’d struck him. His face hardened,
and he left without bothering to look back at her.

What else did she expect? That he would stay and choose her?

“Raven—”

“No.” She cut off Taggert’s protest.

“You have to ground.” He was calm, no sense of fear or
self-preservation in him.

The fool. It would get him killed.

Before she could stop him, he grabbed her arm.

Then it was too late.

Electricity arced between them, wrapping around him like an
unbreakable band before it seeped into his skin.

His eyes didn’t just splinter with color, they turned solid
yellow, his wolf staring boldly back at her. Raven quickly pulled as much
energy away from his that she could manage, desperate to keep him safe. 

There was just too much of it to reabsorb.

She grabbed the railing, forcing the electricity through the
metal and back into the house. The railing heated, the metal grew soft, bowing
under the current. The skin of her hand burned at the amount of current. She
could feel her palms crack and blood slowly trickle out from the wounds.

Despite trying everything she could think to protect him, it
still wasn’t enough. If she didn’t do something soon, he would die in her arms.
She struggled to dislodge his grip. Taggert only tightened his hold. Every time
he was exposed to her power, it changed him, made him bolder and brought out
his baser instincts.

The changes scared the shit out of her.

Unsure if it was her fear of hurting him or the lure of all
that power being so near, the shadowy figure around her core shifted in the
darkness. It uncurled itself and gave a lazy stretch.

Ravenous hunger unfurled through her gut.

Then its talons sank into the flesh around her core,
pressing down on her chest like a physical weight. Her shields cracked as if the
creature was trying to gain access to the current so deliciously out of reach. When
the creature couldn’t break through, she contented herself by wrapping around
the vault, snuffing it out like it’d never been.

The lack of power nearly dropped her to her knees. A new
terror took root. What would happen when the creature gained access? And it
would only be a matter of time. It was growing bigger, feeding off her core,
and she had no clue how to stop it.

She swayed with exhaustion. Without the heat of her core, frost
crept through her chest until breathing hurt.

Taggert gasped, his eyes wide as he gaped at her. “What was
that?”

She couldn’t speak.

At her lack of response, Taggert engulfed her in his arms,
clamping down around her almost brutally as if afraid she would run. She didn’t
resist, didn’t have the energy to spare, as she struggled for air.

Without her power, she was left vulnerable to the animals
that inhabited her skin. They lifted their heads and roared in anger at the new
intruder. The wolf emerged from the darkness. She dug its claws and teeth into
her flesh, staking ownership.

She wouldn’t be dislodged.

Would not be denied.

Alpha.

Something inside her eased, and the stranglehold around her lungs
lessoned. She gasped for breath, nearly lightheaded. She tentatively placed her
hands on Taggert’s chest. His heart leapt at the contact, and he cuddled her
closer as if needing the connection more than her. She imagined her hand
running over his wolf’s fur, the action surprisingly soothing.

She didn’t need anyone to tell her she was in deep shit. But
she did wish someone could hand her a shovel, so she at least had a way of
digging herself out.

 Chapter Nine

T
aggert
lay sprawled across her bed, the demands of keeping her wolf calm knocking him
out cold. Tremors still rocked through her at how everything could’ve gone so horribly
wrong.

Taggert had risked everything for her by staying. Raven was amazed
that he didn’t suffer more for coming to her aid. Despite her worse fear, his touch
had saved her.

At least bought her some time.

For everyone’s safety, she normally locked herself away in
the basement. She marveled at being able to witness the awesome ferocity of the
storm for the first time in years. She watched the sky lighten as the storm
began to fade.

Even hours later, her core remained inaccessible. Though her
shields had wavered, they remained steady. Not wanting to push her limited luck,
she remained in her room, restricting her exposure to the others until the
storm cleared. But that was only part of the truth. She just wasn’t ready to
face the fall-out of tonight’s latest fiasco.

She brought up the video that Scotts had sent from the first
crime scene. She pressed play for the hundredth time in hopes that she could
pick up something she might have missed. She watched the man grab his head then
turned into mist before the cameras fuzzed out.

She searched the background for any witnesses, for any
shadow that moved, but there was nothing to be found. She hit the pause button
and sat back from her laptop, restless eating away at her calm.

“You found something.”

Raven startled at the voice, swallowing hard when she
spotted Griffin at her door. “Unfortunately not.”

He didn’t wait for an invitation, but sauntered in the room
like a pesky brother intent on snooping, showing no hesitation approaching her.
She concentrated solely on the frozen scene, not ready to face anyone’s
judgment.

 “Show me.”

 His lack of fear shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did.
None of the shifters seemed leery of what she could do. They well understood
the threat, but it was as if they recognized her as dominant and just accepted it.

Raven cleared away the tightness of her throat. “What did
you find at the tree line? Any signs of an intruder?”

“Unfortunately not.” Griffin didn’t stiffen at her question,
didn’t react in any way. It wasn’t lost on her he used her very words back at
her. That’s how she knew he was lying. What didn’t he want her to know? He had
been gone all night. He had no lover, so whom did he meet and why?

Raven blindly punched up the video again and studied Griffin
as he watched it, unable to pinpoint his reason for being here. Unless he was
there to see how big of threat she presented and determine if she needed to be
eliminated.

None of the effects from the fight were visible on his body.
His wolf roamed beneath the surface, but they both appeared to cohabitate in
harmony with no animosity between the two.

“How?” She hadn’t realized she asked aloud until he turned
to face her. A blush of heat filled her cheeks, but she refused to back down.
“How do you keep such perfect control?”

At first he didn’t move, his dual gaze settling on hers like
a weight. She thought he would avoid the question or just give a glib answer. Instead,
he straightened and held out his hand as if he’d made some decision. “Let me
show you.”

Her heart thundered against her ribcage. Caution warned her
to watch her step, not trust him, but the need for answers won hands-down. If
she could keep her people safe, did it really matter what price she had to pay?

She inhaled deeply, the scent of cedar immersing her, and
slipped her hand into his. Fire immediately crackled at the contact, burrowing
up her arm as his beast pushed at her. Then he dropped his hold and stepped back,
unconsciously rubbing his palms on his pants as if stung by the contact.

She stood and rubbed her arms. “Is it always like that?”

Those broad shoulders of his shrugged in a kind of answer.
“Children of the pack are raised to know what to expect. Some packs are loving,
some stern, but children are always kept separate from the public as they learn
about their beast. They are guarded until they reach maturity. With so few
born, they are precious and trained early to know what life in the pack entails.

“At the age of eighteen, they pledge their loyalty.”

“The cresting.” That’s the word he and Aaron had brandied
about.

Griffin smiled, quickly grasping she didn’t have a clue what
it meant. “Cresting is a rite of passage into adulthood. It’s usually their first
shift. If they are accepted, they pledge to the pack.”

“And those who can’t shift?”

“There are three options and none of them kind. There are
those who still pledge. They show some promise or skill that will benefit the
pack, but without the ability to shift, they are treated as secondhand
citizens. The others, the weakest, are disowned.”

“But they’re just kids.”

Griffin gave her a cynical look. “They’re shifters.”

“And the third option?” Raven wasn’t sure she wanted to know
anymore.

“The last option doesn’t happen often.” Griffin paced the
confines of the room. “Someone in the pack has to vouch for them. That means
both are held responsible for any transaction the kid commits until they prove
themselves worthy.”

She didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t passed the
test. “You vouched for someone.”

Griffin stopped short and gave a bitter laugh, his stillness
more unsettling than his pacing. “You’re very observant.”

Raven kept her questions to herself when she realized he was
talking about himself. If she interrupted him, it would never happen again.
With each step, his agitation increased, heat flashed in the room until his
wolf filled the space.

“A younger man was brought into the pack. A brother. Father
had successfully mated with a human. When the kid had reached puberty, he
became violent. His wolf was starting to emerge. His mother had no way to deal
with the rage and dropped him off on Father’s step to deal with.

“The pack wanted nothing to do with him. He was nearing
maturity, so they just waited. When the time came to crest, he failed. He was
impure. Too much human blood. They labeled him as worthless and voted to exile
him.”

“So you stepped in.”

“He was my brother. He deserved a chance to prove himself.”

“But something went wrong.”

Griffin nodded, a curious lack of emotion of his face. “His
first moon hit him hard. He became obsessed with a woman and lost control.

“He slaughtered her before I could stop him. It’s an
automatic death sentence. I vouched for him. I was responsible. For his crime, they
chose to exile me.” Exile for a true blood shifter like him was a fate worse
than death.

“And your condition?”

“Came with the exile. Being rogue forces your animal closer
to the surface. You have to be ever vigilant and brutal. The only way to survive
was to merge completely. For the first few weeks, I thought I was going insane.
Then everything settled.”

It made sense. Evolution had forced his body to adapt.
Shifter genetics accelerated the mutations. “It’s your gift.”

Griffin laughed abruptly. “I’m not sure I would go that
far.”

Raven jerked in surprise, seeing he really didn’t
understand. “Haven’t you noticed that a few shifters have developed certain talents?
I think yours is the ability to access both forms at once without serious side
effects.”

Griffin didn’t look convinced.

“Some people who lack in one area have a special ability to
adapt in others.”

When he continued to gaze at her a little too intently,
Raven shifted uncomfortably. Then he cocked his head. “And what is your
talent?”

“Getting into trouble.” She muttered it under her breath, and
his deep laugh startled them both. Her lips unconsciously curled at his genuine
humor.

“And what kind of trouble are you in now?”

She switched off the computer and walked toward the door. “I
think it’s time to meet your father and ask him some questions.”

All amusement drained from Griffin’s expression, but he
didn’t try to talk her out of it anymore.

“Tell me where I can find him.”

* * *

Raven couldn’t stop fidgeting as she entered the country
club doors. Even with Griffin running interference, it had taken her half an
hour to sneak out of the house.

He wasn’t keen that she’d went alone, but disliked the idea
of anyone else going with her, where his secrets could be exposed, even less.
Despite their shared past, they danced around each other, neither ready to
fully trust the other.

Dark and masculine, the club catered toward the rich and
influential clientele. She’d bet her house the likes of her kind had never been
granted access beyond the service counter. The ancient age of the building
pressed down on her, the atmosphere terribly expensive, but surprisingly
tasteful. Dressed in jeans, a long sleeve shirt, gloves and boots, she stood
out like a scarecrow at a bonfire.

The uniformed man at the front counter wore a suit more expensive
than all her clothes put together. He smiled as she neared. She’d give him
credit when his smile stayed steady when he got a good look at her scruffy
self. But beneath, she could all but see his wolf turn up his tail and dismiss
her. “I’m sorry, but only club members are allowed—”

“Tell Mr. Donaldson that I’m here to see him.”

“I’m afraid that—”

“It’s about his son.” Raven lowered her shields and allowed
the heat and scent of the many shifters beyond the double doors to call her own.
Her wolf rose without any prompting and peered out through her eyes. Wildness
licked through her at the freedom.

The man stopped his protests, his face unreadable as he
picked up his phone and dialed. “If you will take a seat, I’ll see if he is
available.”

She expected to be kept waiting, but less than five minutes
passed before an imposing man in a full-out tux came from the room beyond. The
barrel-chested man was not what she expected. There were similarities to his
son, the way he leashed so much power around him, the blank eyes that gave
nothing away, and the purposeful way he strode forward, expecting everyone else
to get out of the way. She stood at his approach, refusing to be intimidated by
his hard expression.

When she opened her mouth, he held up his hand. “Follow me.”
He didn’t even slow his pace as he walked past her and through another doorway
to her right. She turned and obediently followed.

And found herself in a library of sorts. A few tables were
discreetly set up around the room. Fireplaces brightened the area enough to
give off a welcoming glow. At their entrance, a few people glanced up, took in
Donaldson’s stiff countenance, and quickly left. He faced her, lighting a cigar.

She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand. He immediately tapped
out the embers, but the job was done. Her sense of smell was destroyed. Sneaky,
though she should’ve anticipated that given Griffin’s warning.

“What do you want?”

“I have a few questions I need to ask about the conclave.”
She met his regard directly, refusing to be cowed when his mind crashed into
her shields with a clang. When another few moments passed at a standstill, she
raised a brow. She refused to wince and show the pain, curling her hands into
fists until her nails cut into her palms. “Done?” 

“Who are you.” The question was a demand, and the pain
immediately stopped.

“That’s not how this works. You answer my questions, and
I’ll do my best to answer yours.” And try to keep as much of her secrets safe
as she could.

There was a short pause before he walked toward the
sideboard. She must have passed some sort of test. “Ask.”

“Are you aware of anyone who would want to stop the conclave
from taking place?”

Donaldson paused in pouring to study her. “Everyone. Your
name.”