Authors: Stacey Brutger
Tags: #Electricity, #Female assassins, #Paranormal, #Storm, #Raven, #Conduit, #stacey brutger, #slave, #Electric, #A Raven Investigation Novel, #Kick-Ass Heroine, #alpha, #paranormal romance, #Brutger, #Urban, #Fiction - Fantasy, #urban fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Electric Storm, #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Fantasy - Contemporary
Electric Storm
S
TACEY
B
RUTGER
Everything changed when Raven, a natural born conduit, accidentally walks in on a slave auction. She only wants a night out with her friends before her next case as a paranormal liaison with the police. Instead, she ends up in possession of a shifter and his guardian. When your touch can kill, living with two touchy-feely shifters is a disaster waiting to happen.
To make matters worse, a vicious killer is on the loose. As mutilated bodies turn up, she can't help fear that her new acquisitions are keeping secrets from her. The strain of keeping everyone alive, not to mention catching the killer, pushes her tenuous control of her gift and her emotions to their limits. If they hope to survive, they must work together as a pack or risk becoming hunted themselves.
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations for articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.
Copyright © 2012
Stacey Brutger
Cover artist: Amanda Kelsey of Razzle Dazzle Design (
www.razzdazzdesign.com
)
Photographer: Sanjin Pajo of Razzle Dazzle Stock
Model: Jolien Delbeke
Editor: Erin Wolfe
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
To my husband, my biggest supporter, my best friend.
Thank you for helping me realize my dreams.
And to all those who have encouraged me to never give up.
This book is for you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to thank the talented people who have helped this book along in its various stages of production:
To the wonderful cover artist, Amanda Kelsey, who took the gibberish I gave her and created a beautiful cover.
To my awesome editor, Erin Wolfe, who dug through the slew of words and polished them to a shine. This book is better because of you.
To the generous people who’ve offered support along the way.
And to my husband and family for believing in me.
Lastly, I want to thank the readers for giving me a chance. I hope you enjoy reading the book as much as I had writing it.
DAY ONE: AROUND MIDNIGHT
T
alons.
The
paranormal hot spot where the fanged, furry, and spell slingers went to blow off steam.
Raven tapped her leather-clad fingertips on the steering wheel, waiting for her friends to emerge from the club’s steel door. They were thirty minutes late and counting.
The prospect of going inside, risk being in public around other paranormals, twisted a small thread of excitement through her. That was if she ignored the dip in her stomach that threatened to bring supper back up for a revisit. Doing the best to disregard her swinging emotions, she assessed the building.
The non-descript warehouse appeared innocent enough. There were no lines, no bouncers. Nothing overtly threatening that would explain the way her mind screamed that going after her friends to pry out their asses was a very bad idea.
Another minute ticked by, and she blew out a breath, unable to ignore the dangerous lure of curiosity.
She got out of the car and cautiously approached the club. The building was crouched in the shadows as if it’d pounce and squish her like a bug the moment she dared to enter. Like it knew she didn’t belong. She eased closer to the entrance and pried open the heavy metal doors with a little shove of electricity from her gift. The industrial sized magnets that sealed the door ensured only the right kind of people were admitted.
As precautions went, it wasn’t bad. No humans, or what the shifter community called ‘normals’, were admitted without someone vouching for them. Prejudiced? Maybe. But it guaranteed that whatever happened inside would be handled by their own laws. The club was neutral territory for paranormals. No one dared pick a fight on the property. It could get you killed.
A long, shadowy hallway greeted her. The air rumbled with music, the pounding rhythm slapping her in the face. Heat blasted along her body, brushing the chill from her skin but did nothing to warm the cold lump in her stomach. There was no décor in the confining space except for one prominent word clawed into the heavy wooden panels.
Talons.
Raven lifted her hand, noting how her fingers sank in the deep grooves. Whoever created it had to be huge. Another frisson of doubt curled about her, but she quickly shoved it away before it could take root. She could hold her own against these people.
But not without a cost, her mind whispered. She ignored that, too.
Her next case was due to begin all too soon. Humans oversimplified the paranormal world, wedging all things supernatural into their too narrow viewpoint. Too bad it didn’t work that way. That’s why they hired her when they needed something done. She lived on the fringes of both cultures, and knew enough to get things done, but not enough to be a threat.
Despite the protest she gave her friends when they first invited her to the club, a little R&R sounded perfect. Too bad this place felt more like work and less like rest and relaxation.
Her friends had assured her that she’d find a suitable lover here if she dared to take a chance. Not an easy objective when her very touch could kill if she didn’t keep on constant guard.
And who better to choose from than a pack of paranormals? They weren’t immortal, but they could take a lot of abuse and survive. Although inflicting pain, even accidentally, didn’t spawn any romantic interest for her, she couldn’t turn tail for the seductive reason that all she had to do was choose someone inside to find the key to learn control over her own gift.
During sex, shifters were vulnerable, their beasts close to the surface. They had to exert tremendous control to keep from shifting.