Electric Storm(11)

“Morning.”

The boy pushed himself up from where he rested, turning until he had his back to the wall so they were eye level.

When no danger lashed out at her, she jerked her touch away from the wall. Energy slithered over her skin, luring her to attack and not wait for a fight. She inhaled carefully but found no stench of an intruder or coppery scent of blood. “Are you injured?”

“No.” Sleep left his voice husky, drawing her attention to him. A bashful smile brightened his face. He ran a hand through his shaggy, sun-streaked mop of hair, only to have the straight strands fell back carelessly around his shoulders. A warm flush crept into her cheeks and her heart tripped at the sexy, rumpled look of him.

“Why were you on the floor?” Disgruntled by the array of emotions that flickered through her in the space of five seconds, she dropped her gaze, rose, and brushed off her pants.

“I must’ve fallen asleep.”

She eyed him critically, searching for the lie. “On the floor?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Me?” Her voice squeaked on the word. “What on earth for?”

“Because he doesn’t like strange places and you left him alone. He wasn’t going to give you a chance to slip away.” The Ogre sauntered down the stairs, comfortable with his body and her house in a way that had her swallowing hard. His dark brown hair was still damp from his shower, a slight curl that softened his face despite the thunderous expression he directed at her.

She gritted her teeth, reminding herself that despite all that masculinity, an ass still lived beneath the surface.

“I gave my word.” Raven straightened to face him and even managed not to wince, because she had intended to find a new place for them.

The boy stood gracefully, no worse for wear, and she craned her neck back to meet his gaze. She didn’t remember him being so tall yesterday.

All he did was stare at her, unmoving, not breathing. Feeling self-conscious and flustered at the deep curiosity, she gathered up her hair, pinning it at the nape of her neck to cover the distinctive silver that continued to eat away at the tips of the black strands. A side effect from using her powers.

At her movement, his expression blanked. He picked up his small duffle bag, a guitar case and nodded to her. “Where would you like me to store my things?”

The bag couldn’t hold more than a few shirts and an extra pair of pants. “Where’s the rest?”

She received a shrug in answer. The silence frustrated her, reminded her of the prison. Stay quiet, don’t bring attention to yourself and draw their focus.

The memories left her stomach with knots the size of boulders. “I need coffee.” She needed space. Turning away, she headed toward the kitchen. “Just find a room and throw your stuff in there.”

Thankfully, they didn’t follow her, and she had the kitchen to herself for the moment. She didn’t know where the others were and was grateful for the time alone. Dumping those two and moving on was becoming a lot more complicated than she had anticipated.

She grabbed three donuts, hungry for the calories, and devoured them in less than a minute. Shifters needed nearly double the calories in a day to be able to keep dominance over their animal form. If she didn’t eat, her body looked elsewhere for the energy, ready to cannibalize whatever or whoever was near. She grabbed a fourth when the door whooshed open.

London walked into the room, dropped the morning paper on the table, and prowled around without a sound. She would’ve said he lumbered like his animal counterpart, but he was more graceful than any bear she’d ever seen. Everything about him was blunt, from his short, cropped black hair to his attitude to the scent of leaves that always seemed to cling to him. There was an underlying violence in him waiting to erupt. She suspected he was a hybrid, but had never asked. Crossbreeds were a sore subject with him.

London and her had an unsteady truce. She kept her distance, and he pretended she didn’t exist. Communication between them was kept to any mention of security for the team. The arrangement worked.

She poured her first cup of coffee, took a sip when he spoke. “They’ll cause problems.”

And promptly burnt her tongue. When she found his dark eyes pinned to hers, she bit back the curse that rose to her lips. “I know.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll beef up security.” He slapped an inch thick piece of ham between two slices of bread and was gone.

“Making friends with the big boy?” Trish sauntered in the room, her robe barley covering the small negligee she sported, her waist-length, long black hair swishing at her back like a tail. She poured herself a cup of coffee and rested her hip causally against the counter. Stiffness lined the other woman’s movements, revealing how uncomfortable she was being alone with Raven.