Raven Investigation 04 - Electric Legend (18 page)

They collided, and she quickly danced away before he could
grab her.

His chocolate-brown eyes hardened as he raked his gaze over
her from head to foot.

Was it her imagination or did he look at her differently
after spending the night with Jackson?

It seemed whatever she touched always fell apart. A new
loneliness crept into her heart.

“Are you all right?”

The gently spoken question brought tears to her eyes. She
quickly blinked them away, but too late. A muscle along his jaw flexed, his
hands fisted, and his whole body prepared to pounce. His increased
aggressiveness continued to worry her. She wanted to brush her hands against
his arm to calm him, but couldn’t bring herself to touch him after what’d just
happened. “I’ll be fine. Were you able to find the boy?”

“Nothing yet, but I’m close.” He glanced at the forest, a
hint of concern on his face and her senses went on alert.

“Did you notice anything … unusual out in the woods?”

He turned toward her, knowledge gleaming in his eyes but didn’t
speak.

“Tell me.”

Almost reluctantly, he nodded. “Something is watching the
circus.”

“Shit.” She wanted the circus to be evil, so she could just
kill Clancy and leave. Get away from the mess she was making of her life. Maybe
he was wrong. “Did you find a trail or—?”

“I found the mangled body of one of the guards. From their
reactions, it wasn’t the first one either.” Taggert looked disheveled, ragged
around the edges, his shoulder-length hair falling loose about his shoulders.

Raven stepped closer to him, her concern growing. “When’s
the last time you ate?”

He tipped his head, his wolf rising under his skin. Since he
couldn’t change, it had to be painful, but he didn’t seem to notice as he
watched her. She very carefully lifted her hand and set it on his chest. His heart
thundered under her hand, heat radiating off him like a furnace. Shifters
normally ran warm, but he practically burned as if he’d caught a fever.

“Taggert—”

His lifted his head and inhaled deeply as if trying to catch
a sent. He grabbed her arm and dragged him behind her. “Come, someone is
watching.”

He threaded them between the tents. She cracked open her
senses, able to feel them behind them, practically breathing down their necks,
searching around her until she located the problem

Shifters.

Two of them.

And gaining ground fast.

Taggert halted abruptly in front of a large tent with a big picture
of a clown on the outside. He didn’t hesitate and shoved her through the
clown’s open mouth and inside the tent. Mirrors sparkled on every surface, the
floor and ceiling covered with black cloth. “We’re in a fun house.”

The place was set up as a maze … or a death trap.

There was only one way to go.

Forward.

Taggert grabbed her arm, his face grim as they ran. The two
men behind them whooped as they caught their scent and entered the maze in hot
pursuit.

Tagger sniffed, tugging and pulling her through the warren
of mirrors in a path that only he could see … or smell as it were.

She heard whispers of feet behind the mirrors as they
stalked them every step of the way. When they were halfway through the maze, the
room began to shift, the mirrors reconfigured into a new setting.

The distorted mirrors threw their images back at them, the
pitch-black tent making it appear that there were more people present than
there actually were.

Claws raked against glass, the screech so loud it felt like icepicks
slammed into her eardrums. Running footsteps pounded around them, echoing
against the mirrors, making it impossible to pinpoint their location.

A slash of pain racked down her arm and blood filled the
air. “Son of a bitch.”

Taggert whirled, crouched to spring, his eyes glowing a
brilliant yellow in the darkness, but the men had already disappeared back into
the maze. Laughter rang out, and the mirrors shifted again.

She saw a flash of movement. “Behind you.”

Taggert rolled, and the claws meant to eviscerate him gouged
down his back instead. Neither wound would’ve killed him. “They’re playing with
us.”

The shifters were picking on them because they thought she
and Taggert were the weakest.

They were nothing more than bullies.

The dragon gave a hum of awareness in the back of her mind, settling
down to watch, but letting her handle things.

Great.

Just when she could’ve used the help.

As if on command, her claws sliced through the tips of her
fingers, the second of pain startling her.

The dragon.

She was giving her the means to defend herself by fighting
fire with fire.

Only it would mean giving away her secrets in the process.

She immediately curled her fingers into fists to hide them,
the claws sinking into her palms.

She racked her brain to come up with a plan, but the
reflections of dozens of mirrors distorted her senses. Her eyes told her one
thing while her other senses told her another, leaving her disjointed and off
balance.

The experience could only be worse for Taggert.

That was when she realized they’d been herded there for a
reason. She rushed over to Taggert. “Close your eyes. Focus all your attention
on your other senses. You’ll be able to find them before they can sneak up on
us.” She grabbed his hand, ignoring the blood trickling down her arm, the skin tight
and icy as the gash closed. “I’ll lead you through the maze. You keep them off
of us.”

He stared at her a second longer with an unreadable
expression, then nodded and closed his eyes, trusting her completely. Raven
took comfort from the grass smell uniquely his own.

She could do this.

For him.

She exhaled and peeled back the shield she wore. Electricity
and magic rose from deep within her bones and sped through her veins. When the
power built enough, she released it through the air, watching it light up as it
caught the invisible trail, the twisted blue and red strands leading the way out
in a path that only she could see. She unerringly wound them through the maze before
the gears began to grind again.

Taggert lunged to the left, yanked out of her hold and
lashed out into the darkness.

A startled yelp rang in the confined space.

When Taggert sprang to follow, she snagged his shirt and yanked
him backward seconds before the mirrors snapped into place and separated them.

 She twisted to gauge their new surroundings, but they appeared
to be in a room completely enclosed by mirrors. Only their reflections stared
back at them. The men whooped and hollered as if they’d succeeded in trapping
their prey. Danger prickled painfully along her back as the men closed in on
their location.

Then she noticed that her magic trail continued … through
one of the mirrors. Raven narrowed her eyes. “They’ll be waiting for us when we
exit. Whatever happens, don’t react. Your mission is to find that boy.”

She was taking a gamble that those hunting the circus
weren’t there to hurt Taggert.

She was betting his life on it.

No matter what happened, they had to locate the boy. The
urgency kicked up a notch, scratching at her skin like a mosquito bite she
couldn’t quite reach.

Time was running out.

If they didn’t find the boy in time, she feared they’d all
be in trouble.

Taggert opened his mouth to protest, and she lifted her
hand. “Follow me.”

Then Raven ran toward the mirror, lifted her arms, curled up
her legs, and threw herself at the glass.

It shattered on contact.

Gravity took hold, and she landed crouched on her feet in a
shower of sparkling glass. Taggert didn’t hesitate, dropping down lightly next
to her just seconds later.

Cursing sounded behind them, and they took off running,
winding their way through the maze until the exit blazed before them, sunlight
streaming through the doorway. Raven slowed, her steps stumbling. The light
should’ve been warm and inviting, but all Raven wanted to do was head back the
way they’d just come.

The world around them fell silent, and she realized they
were completely alone inside the maze.

It had all been a game, corralling them exactly where they
wanted them.

A trap to teach them a lesson.

 She had no doubt the ringmaster knew exactly what was
happening and had approved the hunt.

Retaliation for her interference last night.

Raven glanced at Taggert, his eagerness to fight chilling
her down to her bone. The meek, eager-to-please man she’d first met had
vanished, replaced by this volatile creature. She was more determined than ever
to leave tonight and find out what the hell was happening to him before she
lost him to the rage. If he turned feral, she feared she’d never find him
again.

Raven wrapped all the current back around her. It fought
her, wanting to protect her, sensing the lingering danger. More than a dozen
people stood waiting for them, their energy swarming the tent. It would be so
easy to drop them where they stood. She was almost willing to take the risk
when the dragon swallowed the current down, leaving her feeling impotent.

“Remember what I said.” She waited for Taggert to nod. His
muscles bunched, his eyes gleamed in protest, before he finally relented.

Then she took a deep breath and walked outside to confront
the growing crowd waiting to lynch her.

“
Y
ou were warned what would happen if you didn’t
obey.” Clancy shook his head as if saddened by her obstinacy.

Like what was about to happen was all her fault.

She wanted to demand proof, but she wasn’t sure which rules
he knew she’d broken and which he didn’t. She didn’t want to give him more
ammunition.

He seemed disappointed that she didn’t confront him, and she
was beginning to understand the helplessness of being a lowly member in a pack.

Men surrounded her and Taggert, marching them toward the Big
Top. Besides the small gathering, the circus was deserted.

Then they entered the tent.

Everyone had been gathered.

No one spoke, no one moved as they watched her enter, not
wanting to draw attention to themselves. At the edge of the ring stood a fully-clothed
Jackson, and her heart plummeted to her knees. He stiffened when he saw her,
but didn’t otherwise show any other reaction, his emotions once more locked
down. They shoved Taggert next to him and guided her into the center of the
ring.

“We granted you leniency because you’re new, but you left
camp, snuck around when you should’ve been working. You continue to flaunt the
rules. We gave you the benefit of the doubt, but now you’ll both be punished
for your crimes.”

Raven gave a start of surprise and realized they were
talking to Jackson and Taggert.

“Pin them.”

Raven stepped forward when Jackson shook his head.

To her horror, she watched as two large chains were dragged
into the ring. Collars were fitted around their throats. Even from the
distance, she smelled silver burning their skin. Raven couldn’t catch her
breath, the need to do something riding her hard. Then both chains were pulled
through a loop on the floor and bolted down.

The action forced both men onto their knees.

Then, much to her surprise, Clancy turned toward her. “Tie
her down.”

Both Taggert and Jackson lunged forward, but they were
effectively trapped. Greggory stepped toward her, ignoring Jackson’s snarl and
Taggert trying to claw his way free.

“Hands.”

Raven saw the apology in Greggory’s eyes.

There would be no help from him.

If she caused trouble, Clancy would take it out on her men.
She slowly lifted out her arms, and he quickly secured her wrists, careful not
to touch her skin. The bindings bit into her skin, his eyes stark as he met her
gaze. Then he spun her around, lifted her hands and looped the rope through a
spike high on the pole similar to the one Jackson had split last night.

It was thirty feet high, six inches around.

A shifter could easily break it, not to mention the ropes
binding her arms.

Greggory yanked on the straps, pulled the restraints tighter,
until she remained balanced on her toes. Her gaze flashed up to his in time to
see him mouth two words. “Stay strong.”

She read the silent message.

Stay human.

Then he disappeared from sight.

Careful not to touch her, he ripped open the back of her
shirt and spread the edges, exposing her skin to the cool air.

Then she realized what was happening.

They were going to whip her.

Her breath stuttered out of her. She leaned her forehead
against the rough wood and widened her stance. She grabbed the ropes and wound
them in her hands. Her back tingled in anticipation of the pain, vividly recalling
what the fall of the lash felt like.

The sharp pinch as her skin split.

The trickle of blood.

The few seconds of blessed numbness before the burning pain
set in.

With her stomach churning, she made the only decision she
could to protect the pack—she cut the connection. Half her senses died, the
loneliness growing worse when she couldn’t feel them.

A tiger roared in the distance and tears gathered at the
back of her eyes.

Durant.

She jumped as the crack of the whip snapped in the air. She
relaxed her muscles in anticipation of the blow, released the breath she’d been
holding, not willing to give Clancy the satisfaction of screaming.

Then there was no more thought. The air shifted as the whip
began to whirl. The first blow made her jump, and she arched away from the
pain. A low moan strangled in her throat, and she clenched her teeth and slowly
straightened.

After five lashes, her back was on fire. Her claws sliced
through the tips of her fingers and thunked into the wood to keep from tearing
at the ropes confining her.

On the sixth lash, her skin sliced open and blood trickled
down her back.

Her beast rumbled in displeasure, flooding her system with
adrenaline, dulling the pain enough for her to take a single deep breath before
the next stroke landed.

By the eighth stroke, sweat beaded on her skin, dripping
into her wounds, but she barely felt the added sting. Her legs shook, and she
used the pole to support her weight.

Two more blows landed, and Raven could only manage short,
quick breaths, anything else impossible as each movement sent agony screeching through
her back.

She gritted her teeth, determined to stick it out even when
the beast threatened to rise. She thought it would try to take away the pain
ravaging her body, but realized the dragon was waking because of the loss of
connection to the pack.

She just had to hold on for a few more minutes. Pain had
been such a constant companion to her for so many years, she welcomed it like
an old friend, swallowed it down and pushed past it.

Allowing her to think.

Her body felt too small to contain everything, and a tiny
crack spidered up her shields.

Raven concentrated on the energy that had been so much of
her life, weaving it together to form a grid, moving quickly so the beast
wouldn’t guess her intent. When she secured the mesh, she slowly fed it power.
She almost lost her concentration when the next two lashes landed in quick
succession.

The dragon wouldn’t be calmed. It wanted her pack back. Her
vision darkened for a second, and she used the last of her energy to power the cage.

The beast roared in denial when it realized what she’d done and
threw itself at the grid.

It felt like someone had punched her in the ribs … from the
inside.

Breathing became impossible.

More frightening, the cage bent like taffy.

Two more blows, and the dragon would be free.

Agony kept her focused, allowed her to function, and she
concentrated on holding the cage steady. If her beast tore free, she feared the
dragon wouldn’t judge right from wrong, but kill everyone for just being there.

The beast snarled in agreement, and her skin heated. Her control
slipped further. The ropes cut into her skin as she struggled against the
binding. If she hadn’t been tied up, she would’ve been clawing at her flesh.

Her beast wanted out.

Unfortunately, she doubted she’d survive the transition. Only
purebreds have the ability to change. If she’d been a normal shifter, she
would’ve changed at puberty. Most who try to change later don’t survive, stuck
between forms. People like her, those who carry multiple strands of DNA, would
end up tearing themselves apart from the inside out if they tried.

The ropes creaked ominously, the wooden pole groaned, and
her back screamed in agony at the strain. 

“Enough.” Clancy sounded furious that she didn’t bend to his
will, but Raven didn’t give a shit. All that mattered was the dragon stopped
pounding against the inside of her skull like little fairies armed with sharp
pickaxes. She sagged against the pole, fighting nausea.

When someone touched her bindings, Raven flinched, struggling
to lift her head and focus her eyes. “Easy, little queen.”

Greggory.

The ropes released, and she wobbled precariously before forcing
her legs to hold her weight, determined to walk out on her own two feet. 

Greggory followed her, blocking the view of her back, giving
her some privacy.

The crowd had long since gone quiet, everyone shifting
uneasily as she passed, even the human guards. What concerned her most was the
absolute silence from Jackson and Taggert. They’d fallen quiet after the first
lash, and she stole a glance at them as she passed.

As easily as that, the connection between them snapped back
into place. The dragon shuttered, settling down like a bird with ruffled
feathers, carefully checking the bindings as if they were little chicks. A
trickle of energy struck the men hard, and she finally saw their chests rise
for the first time in minutes.

Theirs eyes glowed with their wolf, power clouded the air
around them both, and everyone stepped away, not daring to come too close.
Taggert appeared shattered, Jackson grim, both of them nearly feral.

Blood dripped down their necks from the collars. The bolts
pinning the chains to the floor had bent, almost ripped free from the moorings.
Their wildness thudded into her body, fed the violent need to be free and hunt.
As she neared, the primal urge scaled back, and their humanity slowly returned
to their eyes.

A minute or two more and they would’ve broken free and torn
into the crowd.

It was why Clancy had called a halt.

Despite the anger seething around him at being disobeyed,
his confidence was shaken. Suspicions darkened his eyes as he stared after her,
and she knew he’d guessed some of the truth.

Both men were just too strong to be rogues.

They were pack.

To attack another pack was cause for war.

The need to go to her men and touch them nearly overtook her,
only Greggory’s presence prevented her from putting her thoughts into action. Greggory
opened the flap of the tent and stepped closer, forcing her to move or risk
current arcing into him. “If you stay, you’ll only make it worse.”

“My men—”

“Will be released when they’ve had time to calm down. Your
blood will only incite them more.” When she hesitated, he pushed home his
point. “Don’t give Clancy a reason to kill them.”

“It’s only going to be a matter of time before he tries.”
She allowed herself to be steered outside. The slight breeze set her back on
fire, her words emerging through gritted teeth.

Greggory didn’t say anything, just guided her around the
tents until she was standing outside a larger trailer. His faint scent faded in
and out, indicating he spent most of his time there, away from the others. When
he opened the door, the sharp antiseptic stink of medicine and cleaners
billowed out, cutting off his elusive scent before she could identify it.

He held open the door and nodded for her to enter. “We’ll
have more privacy inside.”

She sneezed at the chemical stench, nearly bending double as
pain riddled her body. It took her close to a full minute before she could
straighten and enter.

Though the place was packed floor to ceiling with supplies,
there was a sort of order to the chaos. Raven remained standing, twisting to
keep Greggory in view, not trusting anyone at her back. Not even him despite
his helpfulness.

“Clancy follows the same pattern with all new people. He
always picks the most vulnerable, the one most likely to get the desired
results. Any small infraction is met with brutal punishment, a lesson you only
need to learn once.”

“Ah.” Everything made a sick sort of sense. “To bring us
under his heel.”

Greggory ignored her and began gathering supplies. “Only it backfired
for the first time today. Those men of yours gave him pause. They wouldn’t
break. He has no use for those he can’t control.”

Foreboding wrenched through her gut.

Clancy had no intention of releasing them.

Greggory peered up from the supplies he’d gathered on the
small table, the truth in his eyes. The shadows engulfing him parted, dragging
her under his tow. A dozen or more tiny strands of energy bound him, not pack
bonds, but something more. Each strand had a different flavor, like associated
with a different pack. Before she could push for more, a huge brown bear formed
in her mind. It reared on its hind legs and roared so loud it reverberated in
her head, pain and anger and outrage thudding in her chest.

The connection between them shut down, severed so brutally
she swayed at the abrupt loss. He might be terribly strong, but he’d fallen
into Clancy’s trap like all the others. Only the multiple strands prevented him
from being claimed by force.

So why would he linger, unless …

“The missing kid.” Greggory flinched slightly, a small tightening
around his eyes that gave him away. “You don’t fit in with the rest of the
group. You keep to yourself, not forming any ties. The others stay away, even
the hunters avoid antagonizing you.”

He grunted as if she’d struck him. Ignoring her, he ripped
open some of the packages and opened a bottle of antiseptic then slipped on a
pair of gloves. “Let me see to your back. They’ll be coming for you soon.”

The ominous words didn’t deter her. “Taggert didn’t find
anything, but he’s going to keep looking. He’s close.”

The hard set of his shoulders softened a fraction, the
querulous bear changing, becoming curious. Raven had only met one other bear,
London, her security guy. The man was massive and could change into a large
Kodiak that would only attack when provoked, but he would be deadly and
relentless until he got his prey. This grizzly was different, grumpy all the
time. If she kept on poking, he would retaliate.

Then she thought no more as he poured antiseptic into her
wounds, setting them afire. Ten minutes passed as he cleaned up the wounds and
blood. “You’ve already stopped bleeding. I don’t think you’ll need stitches,
but you’d do best to try not to heal too fast. Clancy is already suspicious.”

A faint accent tinged his voice, Russian if she had to guess,
the first real sign of any emotion other than anger. He snapped off the gloves,
not once looking at her as he pulled out a shirt from the sea of gray in a
nearby drawer and handed to her. Raven accepted it, grateful not to walk around
in her tattered clothes. She let what was left of her shirt fall to the floor
and tugged the new one down over her head. Her body ached, but the pain was already
easing. Though he was slim, the shirt still drowned her, his elusive scent going
in and out of focus.