Electric Storm (24 page)

“Please.” The words were spoken on a breath of air. When she would have turned to face Taggert, Jackson grabbed her hips, and she moaned at the feel of him snug against her, so ready that she throbbed with need.

Taggert whimpered at her arousal. Jackson grunted and both men pressed closer. The grip on her hips turned brutal. “You have to call your wolf and bite. I can’t hold back much longer.”

Raven met his gaze, saw the strain on his face as he held their animals in check. Her job as an alpha she realized, something she failed to do while she allowed the novelty of the emotions to overwhelm her. Giving up the inevitable, she parted her lips and bit.

“Harder.” Taggert’s mouth brushed her ear, a plea and demand all in one word.

The skin broke, and she resisted the urge to pull away as the coppery taste of blood spilled in her mouth. Taggert bent and brushed his lips along the back of her neck.

The first swallow spilled down her throat. Taggert’s aura bent, melding with hers. The power of his wolf brushed against her, the warmth and smell so similar to Taggert, she couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over him.

Then the dark shadow at her core uncurled, stealing the warmth of the joining. The feel of Taggert’s wolf retreated as the beast woke. The greedy darkness begged her to take more, demanded she bite harder, sink her teeth deeper.

Blood flooded her mouth. It felt wrong, the taste sour. Then she understood.

Only a wolf could claim a wolf.

“Call the wolf.”

At Jackson’s command, the wolf at her core charged at the shadow, snarling with rage at being denied. Pain rippled through her with each slash of the wolf’s claws, each gouge of the fangs. The touch of Jackson and Taggert’s wolves made hers stronger, more determined to claim what was hers. The darkness retreated as if pleased to have stolen a taste.

The wolf brushed against her mind then stalked off in victory. Rational thought was slow to return, the throb in her skull a dull ache. Raven ignored the pain and snapped open her eyes to find herself pinned to the floor under the combined weight of both Taggert and Jackson, unable to move.

“Is everyone all right?” The husky scratch of her voice made her wince.

“The better question would be what the hell were you thinking.” Rylan’s blue eyes zeroed in on hers, a hardness in them that didn’t allow her to guess at his thoughts. Every inch of him was perfectly in order as if finding her on the floor with two men wrapped around her didn’t ruffle him.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t realize the mating process was so delicate, that I needed my wolf to complete the exchange.” When she struggled to sit, snarls erupted from both of the men holding her, their anger directed at Rylan, pure wolf boldly glaring from their eyes. “Rylan, I think you should leave.”

“No.” The one word was implacable, and she was helpless to make him obey, the bastard, and he knew it.

Careful to keep any fear out of her voice, Raven nudged Taggert. “Release me.”

The rumble in his chest died. He cocked his head at the sound of her voice then slowly turned toward her.

She expected ferocity.

She expected fear.

It unnerved her to see utter devotion in his gaze. “We were going to go out tonight. Remember? If you still want to go, you need to release me and get ready.”

He hesitated a second before he finally did as told. Instead of standing, he crawled over her in a loose way no human could duplicate. Jackson bared his teeth, but Taggert ignored everything as he came closer. Balanced on his hands and feet in an amazing display of muscles, he bent down without touching and inhaled deeply.

The energy around him dimmed and the part of him that was human slowly emerged. Then she saw the mess she’d made of his wrist and blanched. “What did I do?”

Taggert gazed at her calmly, clearly pleased by her concern. “It doesn’t hurt.”

She reached out to stop the bleeding when Rylan spoke. “Not while you’re touching both of them. Bite marks become very erotic when touched by their alpha.”

Color rose in her cheeks at what a picture they presented. “Taggert, go with Rylan and bind your wound.”

Rylan gave her a dirty look but nodded. “You have ten minutes.” He gave Jackson a hard glare and disappeared. Taggert didn’t object, and she found herself alone with the undivided attention of a wolf.

“Jackson?” Those yellow-green eyes met hers. When she shifted, his hold loosened, but didn’t release her. If she so much as twitched, she had no doubt he’d drag her under him and take what his body demanded. And she wasn’t sure she’d protest. If anything happened between them, she wanted the human in him to decide he wanted her, not some primitive animal instinct.

She slowly lifted a shaky hand to his face. Those eyes followed her every gesture. She laid her hand against his cheek. Instead of retreating, he leaned into her touch. “Jackson.” His eyes slid closed, and he inhaled her scent. When she would’ve pulled away, he grabbed her wrist.

“You need to get away from me.” The guttural demand took her by surprise.

“What?”

“The wolf is fighting me.” He panted, each word torn from him. “And I don’t think he has any plans on letting you go.”

A chill swept through her gut despite the warmth of his embrace. “What do you need me to do?”

A fine tremor shook his frame as his body fought itself. A grunt of pain escaped his clamped lips, and a hint of fangs protruded from his mouth. Part of her screamed to run. The sensible part told her to trust him and wait for his signal.

She placed her hand over the wild beat of his heart. A swirl of energy battered his insides. She tried to drop her shields and pull it away from him, but her animals were in full charge.

“When I let go, run.”

“But–”

“Now.”

The warm arms she’d found so comforting peeled away, leaving her feeling naked and exposed. Before she had a chance to move, he scrambled backwards so fast he was on the other side of the room in less than a second, the dresser he cracked into rocking at the impact.

“Run!”

Raven ignored the most basic rule of shifters and darted out the door, slamming it behind her. She hesitated, her hand on the knob, pressing her forehead against the cool wood, her body itchy with need to touch him. She swore she felt him on the other side of the door, pressed against the wood as if seeking her.

“I can still smell your need.” A sharp, pain-filled chuckle cut off abruptly. “Go!”

Could she leave him in there to suffer alone? She could help him, she knew she could, but damn it, she just didn’t know how.

When something battered against the heavy oak wood, she slowly drew away. Another blow landed on the door, shaking the frame. Giving into his plea, she dashed down the stairs and ran straight into Rylan. A scream strangled in her throat at his unexpected appearance. For a second, she’d thought it had been Jackson.

“Did he hurt you?” He gripped her arms, his eyes whirling slightly as he searched every inch of her for an injury.

It did nothing to stop the pounding of her heart. Hell yes, she was afraid, but part of her liked the chase and that frightened her the most.

“I’m fine. Jackson–”

She never even finished when Rylan streaked up the stairs in a blur of black. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Rylan didn’t stop. She went to follow him when Taggert stepped out of the kitchen wearing only a low slung pair of jeans and snagged her arm. “Leave them.

“But they’ll tear each other apart–”

“They’re just blowing off steam. Neither would do anything that would upset you. If you want to leave without them following, now’s the time.”

Raven hesitated, studying his face, uncertain what to make of his comment, but more certain she wasn’t ready to face Jackson anytime soon. “You’re sure?”

He understood her unspoken question. “They’ll both be alive when we get home.”

That sounded more ominous than comforting. The balcony doors in her room shattered in a crack of wood and a tinkle of glass. Her eyes narrowed at their childish attitude to strike first, and any residual concern for their wellbeing vanished. “Let’s go.”

Raven quickly collected her keys. They were down the road under five minutes. The constant battering of emotions was exhausting. She didn’t know how people stayed sane under the constant bombardment. Diligently, methodically, she built her walls back into place. It was harder this time.

If she could just treat the men like a job, then maybe she could prevent the episode back at the house from happening again. She feared it’d be a lot easier said than done.

But the best place to start was now. “First thing we need to do is stop to get you some clothes.”

Taggert’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “Have you ever been to a bloodhouse?”

“No.” The silent amusement in his question made her uneasy, and she shifted in her seat. Being alone with him after what happened only made her feel more awkward. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react after what happened between them. Part of her wanted to inspect his injury and the horrible mess she made of his arm, but she was afraid to touch him. Afraid how she would react to his touch. Could claiming him have made her craving for his touch worse?   

“Then you’ll be in for a surprise. And believe me, for where we’re going, I’m overdressed.”

 
Chapter Nineteen

A LITTLE BEFORE MIDNIGHT

R
aven parked the car a discreet distance and walked the rest of the way to the club, ignoring the urine and rotten cabbage smell of garbage wafting from the alley. When they reached the door, the bouncer, a huge vampire who must have been a Viking in a past life, spoke.

“Donor or visitor?”

Raven grimaced at the thought of donating her blood and what it would do to a vampire. “Visitor.”

The giant grunted and tossed a disbelieving look at Taggert and his collar that raised her hackles. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes, and resisted the urge to step in front of Taggert. The bouncer just grunted and heaved a sigh.

Once inside the darkened entryway, she glared at Taggert. “You could’ve warned me it’d be so expensive.” One hundred fifty dollars each, triple the normal fee for bringing a shifter as a visitor instead of donor. No wonder vampires were rich. Blood suckers, ha! More like the visitors were the suckers.

“You would’ve come anyway.”

True. She turned away without giving him the satisfaction of agreeing out loud. She didn’t bother to bring a picture of Jason. Being Lester’s son made him a celebrity in the vampire world.

“Stay close.” Anxiety wrestled away the calm she fought to maintain, and she wondered if this was such a bright idea with their bond so new and her emotions so shaky. She didn’t know if she could analyze the situation clearly if Taggert was threatened.

She needed muscle, not food. And Taggert was food. He was too far down the dominance pole to be anything but subservient. Shifters had an allure to vampires. They were like liquor, some more potent than others, but all tasty and all very addicting.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Fear clung to her. What if she couldn’t protect him?

“You’re not going in alone.” He gave a simple shrug. “I know what to expect.”

That didn’t reassure her. She debated ordering him home. Something must have alerted him to her thoughts. He lifted his chin mutinously, clearly not going to let her get away with it, and stepped closer.

“Don’t.” She immediately countered and drew away. She wasn’t falling for that trap. No touching. No emotion. She wouldn’t be persuaded or seduced by his touch.

At her retreat, all expression smoothed away. “I have no qualms about telling the others your plan.”

She hadn’t noticed how much he’d begun to relax around her until she saw the blank mask he used when they first met descend over his face. That he’d use it on her stung. She hadn’t realized how much she relied on him to always be on her side. The least she could do was return the favor. She took a steady breath. “Fine.”