Electric Storm(57)

A knock like a gunshot filled the room. She jumped and the last pin she shoved home dug into her skull. Jitters ate away her calm. She’d been avoiding the subject, but there was no way around her half-unspoken promise to claim Taggert without her case falling apart and more people dying.

How could she have promised something so stupid? There had to be a way around it, but she couldn’t think of anything. That it would ultimately save his life helped but not a lot.

The gulp of air she took lodged in her throat as she shuffled toward the door. She’d expected Taggert and couldn’t have been more astonished to find Jackson.

He shifted uncomfortably, and she instantly went on guard. “What’s wrong?” God, please don’t let there be another emergency. She didn’t have enough time to figure out her problems, let alone others’.

“May I come in?”

Dread filled her at the polite request. That couldn’t be good. She opened the door wider and stepped away so his body wouldn’t brush hers.

The expression on his face let her know he recognized her reaction, but surprisingly, he took pity on her and didn’t goad her as she expected.

“You’re going out tonight.” He walked to the balcony glass doors, his back toward hers.

“Yes.”

He turned slightly, giving her a side view of his face. “With Taggert.” The curt response shouldn’t have surprised her, but he always caught her off guard.

The attitude pissed her off, and she answered instead of evading. “Yes.”

“When do we leave?”

Raven hesitated at the carefully controlled voice. Something was wrong.

She stepped closer, opened her senses and blew out a relieved breath to have them respond so readily. Then she saw his eyes, alive with such restless need, that her breath lodged in her throat. “Taggert and I won’t be leaving for a while.” She maintained her distance from the maelstrom of confusion swirling around him, tried to use the space to pinpoint her unease. “If you want to take a run, I promise we won’t leave until you return.”

Jackson opened the French doors and stepped onto the balcony. Energy swamped him, but underneath seethed a layer of rage that threatened to consume her. She didn’t understand. The curtains rippled in the breeze. She debated the wisdom of following him, noted the stiff set of his shoulders, the tension ready to explode, the potential of being caught up in another crisis, and decided it was a bad move.

Then stepped out after him anyway.

“Want to talk about it?” He must miss his pack. Maybe he even had a girlfriend, and she was keeping him from her. A bitter taste soured her mouth.

“No.” The gruff tone was devoid of its usual anger.

It sounded like pain.

She risked another step closer, reached out for him but quickly dropped her hand. No contact. No matter how many times she told herself she could never touch others without hurting them, she could never pound home the fact. “You haven’t contacted anyone since you arrived. I haven’t seen you take advantage of the country space to run.” Something didn’t feel right, hovering ever so temptingly out of reach.

His wolf fluctuated wildly, nipping against her shields, but she sensed he didn’t do it on purpose.

“My job is to monitor the situation. Watch Taggert.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She gave him a small smile, not expecting him to curse and whirl toward her.

Anger devastated his face. Her breathing hiccupped in her chest as the primitive look sent her knees quivering. She tensed to retreat, then carefully planted her foot in the same place. She knew not to run. Running would make her prey and give the beast more control. But the knowledge didn’t lessen the urge to do just that.

“Jackson?”

He halted inches from her. His power didn’t. It drowned her, pressed on her lungs. When he stooped over her, she flinched but stood her ground. Then he inhaled slowly.

“You smell like Taggert.” Jackson didn’t retreat, just turned his head to meet her gaze with those yellow eyes. Displeasure twisted his lips, his words pulled from deep within. The slow rumble trickling from his chest raised the hairs on her neck. The kind that either froze one in their tracks or made them run in the opposite direction.

The low tone only increased her awareness of him. “He was helping me.” She bit back the rest of her words, afraid to say more lest he guess how his nearness scrambled her thoughts.

He inhaled deeply. “Truth.”

Raven blinked, his shocking revelation eased the awkward tension that hovered between violence and the urge to touch him. “You can scent the truth?”

A devilish smile tipped his mouth, twisting that tension firmly on the pleasure side once more. “My gift as an enforcer.”