Electric Storm (47 page)
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
And met the open-eyed stare of a statue, a man forever captured in time. All thoughts of bugs vanished. Caly’s lips parted, her eyes widened and her breath stuttered out of her mouth.
There was a God.
The man—and from her view kneeling on the moss covered ground, he was most definitely a man—was absolutely gorgeous. Not in the normal sense, not by Hollywood standards. Prominent cheekbones, a full, sharp nose and a strong jaw kept his face from being too feminine.
Desire twisted through her, and a deep yearning tightened her chest. A bubble of hope swelled. This was a man she could depend on to not let her down. When she looked at him, the chaos inside that defined most of her life settled.
She felt normal.
Reality crashed over her, settling heavily on her shoulders. Desire for a damn statue. How ironic she could be attracted to stone when live men left her cold. But here, in the middle of nowhere, she found a man who turned her on like nobody else, and he wasn’t real. It was enough to make her cry.
Little details filtered into her brain. A thrill of excitement thrummed under her skin. The answers she sought about her condition were stuck in the past; she only had to uncover the clues.
This was why she came here, what quieted her protests against the mission, all for the chance to learn if there was a possibility for her to be human again. To find a way to finally destroy the demon infection that had taken root and flourished in her body. Each time the darkness opened up in her, the harder it became to fight. The more she wondered why she fought it at all.
The mission forgotten, Caly took her time to catalog each odd detail, a dark thrill brushed against the edge of her awareness. The statue wasn’t what she’d come to expect from this region. Instead of native garb, the grey stone man had chiseled, close fitted pants. Two inch carved straps crisscrossed his chest, appearing to almost dig into the stone. His long hair, wild with waves, was tied back from his face.
Her fingers twitched to run her hands over him. Though his complexion was tinged green with age, the fierce expression drew her gaze instead of repelling her. The turn of his lips was anything but sensual, yet their full form made her think of sex and what a man could do with a mouth like his.
Strong shoulders led down to a lean, sculptured chest. His open shirt did little to disguise his physique. The statue shouldn’t have impressed her, but it was as if the stone called to her. She had to curl her fingers into a fist to resist touching him. A streak of light filtered through the canopy, wavered a moment then illuminated him like an offering. Something just for her and no one else.
As she watched, she swore his chest moved to breathe. It took a physical effort to pull her gaze away, regulate her breathing, and longer to tuck away the desire to stake claim. The weird light faded, and her focus came to rest on a knife strapped to his right side. The fifteen-inch dagger rested close to his body, the curved handle arched up, wrapping along his ribs. What drew her interest was the intricate design etched along the outside of the scabbard and handle. It was too detailed for any stone crafting of the time. Or it should have been.
Absorbed in the discovery, she leaned forward for a better look. It reminded her of something important, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, jolting her attention back to her surroundings, leaving her guts in her throat.
“Did you find anything of interest?”
Oscar.
Shit.
“No.” The protest rose automatically to her lips. Her fascination with the statue triggered her unease again. Especially the way it so completely made her forget her surroundings and the mission.
It took more force than she liked to drop her hands to her sides. A hand she hadn’t even known she’d raised. The vines swung inward, the statue disappeared from sight, and her stomach dropped. Caly honestly didn’t know if her reaction was due more to the fact she messed up or because the statue was no longer under her watchful eye.
She had an awful, sinking feeling it was the latter.
“Nothing of interest.” Guilt caused her to flush, but she didn’t want the old man to find the statue, feeling protective of the stupid thing. She tried to tell herself she was overreacting, but her mind didn’t agree. She held her ground, waiting for him to move away.
The contest of wills broke when, with his usual vigor, Oscar leaned past her and yanked on the vines. Vegetation shredded, bruised leaves drifting abandoned to the ground. Bold and savage, her statue faced forward, a sentinel frozen in time, waiting to be awakened.
She swore that Oscar instinctively knew what she wanted and made sure she never received it. In her peripheral vision, she watched him circling the stone, but once he disappeared from view, he disappeared from her thoughts as well.
One step forward, then two, she stood only inches away from temptation, her palms itching for just one touch. She stole a quick glance at the statue from under her lashes, then forced herself to turn away and put him...it out of her mind. The urge to linger pulled at her sense of duty. The simple task to turn and walk away was surprisingly hard, especially since she’d dedicated her life to her work.
“You know what it is.” Oscar’s low growl didn’t have its normal bite, yet the tone stiffened the muscles of her back.
Caly refused to face him, refused to let him see the fear in her eyes. Fear for the stone man. She swallowed past her painfully dry throat. “A statue.”
“Don’t be a fool. You know it’s a demon, one of the cursed guardian statues. Just pray that your blood isn’t human enough to wake him. If the blasted thing wasn’t mounted in granite, I’d have it smashed.”
The lash of his words stung, but the threat to the statue sent a surge of terror through her. And that pissed her off. She opened her mouth to protest when a jungle cat’s roar rang out and echoed in the treetops.
Caly whipped her head around, her eyes narrowing at the undergrowth. At first she didn’t see anything. After a moment, two eyes blinked lazily, staring back at her as a big ass cat licked its muzzle. A chill crept down her spine. A twitch of muscles betrayed her abhorrence of the creatures.
There was nothing behind those eyes but pure predator. No hunger, but a need and desire to kill for the pleasure of it.
“Skins!” Possessions were when a demon took over a body. Skins were when demons forced the actual soul out of the body and used them as indestructible suits that only a beheading would free the demon and allow it to be killed.
Even as she bellowed the warning, the guides screamed like kids and took off. A streak to the left broke her concentration, and she saw another animal, a black panther, bound after the two men. Their bloodcurdling screams were cut off abruptly, leaving no doubt to their fate.
The other panther slowly slunk out of its hiding place, its eyes locked on her.
A sound to her right had the big cat’s head swing in that direction.
“Run!”
Stacey Brutger lives in a small town in Minnesota with her husband, son and an assortment of animals. When she’s not reading, she enjoys creating stories about exotic worlds and grand adventures…then shoving in her characters to see how they’d survive. She enjoys writing anything paranormal from contemporary to historical.
Watch for her next paranormal romance called
BloodSworn
or her next urban fantasy called Electric Moon.
Visit Stacey online to find out more at
www.StaceyBrutger.com
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
