Electric Storm(85)

“Raven?” His voice sounded groggy. He ripped away his seatbelt, then leaned over to work on hers. Blood trickled down from a nasty gash on his forehead.

She tried to reach up, but realized she could only lift one arm. She grabbed his hand and shook him. “Leave. Run.” The movement exhausted her. She coughed and winced when blood filled her mouth.

Car doors slammed, and her eyes widened. “Run.”

Taggert disappeared from view. Relief made her lightheaded. Then she heard it. Fighting. Fists meeting flesh. Men swearing. Then gunshots.

“Taggert!” Damned fool. She tried to loosen the seatbelt but to no effect. Impotent rage tore a growl from her throat. She struggled to pull away from the metal’s embrace. Flesh tore and warmth spread over her left side as her blood soaked through her clothes. Her body slumped over the console when she broke free from the metal talons.

“Stab her with the fucking needle and let’s go.”

She fumbled with the seatbelt. Her chest wheezed as each breath see-sawed out of her lungs, stealing the very air she fought to keep.

A flashlight’s beam blinded her. A prick pinched her upper arm, and she struggled to keep out of reach. Too late. Her skin burned. Fire raced through her muscles.

A trunk slammed. Doors closed. An engine screamed, then faded into silence as she struggled to keep her eyes open and focused. North. They were circling the damn forest.

She fumbled with the stack of napkins on the floor and tried to stanch the flow of blood. It did no good, instantly soaking the meager bandage. The blood felt hot against her cold hands. Her blood-coated fingers grew numb.

“Raven!” Warm fingers touched her face.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust and recognize Jackson’s face. The stark fear made her want to reassure him, but she couldn’t find words.

She swallowed twice before she could speak. “They took Taggert.” Her lips and tongue felt clumsy. The seatbelt released and agony ripped away the lovely haze. Jackson’s soothing voice faded. All she heard was her heartbeat as it slowed. Concern for Taggert and Jackson were the only things on her mind when her heart stopped.





Chapter Twenty-five





PREDAWN

Her back bowed as energy arced through her. Her heart thumped to life, and she gasped for air. Power sputtered and died as abruptly as it came. As she fell back on the bed, pain streaked through her body. Years of practice allowed her to work past it instead of succumbing to the waiting darkness. She muddled through her thoughts, desperately trying to piece together what happened.

Besides the fact that she’d died.

Again.

She pried open her eyes, dreading what she’d find, only to relax when she saw a normal room with windows and not the neglected kennels that were used in the labs. When the subtle scent of males reached her, some of the anxiety pounding away at the inside of her skull eased a fraction.

“Raven?”

She turned toward the deep, rumbled sound of her name. Whiskey brown eyes met hers. Recognition hovered at the back of her mind, something hauntingly familiar that lingered frustratingly out of reach. Smells of cut grass and fresh air swamped her senses. From him. The tanned face, thick brown hair and ruggedly handsome face gazed back, unblinking.

The intensity of his stare should’ve sent her running. Not from him though. She wanted to stretch and luxuriate at the heat building through her. The attraction should’ve scared her shitless, but it only felt right.

Or almost right. Something was missing. Something she was supposed to remember. Consuming large amounts of energy had a way of sucking away her memories.

Pain stabbed into her skull as she fought to reclaim the missing seconds. A whimper climbed out of her throat, and she pushed the heel of her hands into her eyes to relieve the pressure.

“You’re trying too hard to remember.” At Rylan’s voice, she dropped her arms and some of the blackness clouding her mind funneled away.

“What the hell happened?” She struggled to sit, only to fall helplessly back onto the bed. Her body curled into itself as pain riddled every inch of her. It took an embarrassingly long time to get her breath back to speak. “Who ran me over?”

She meant it in jest, but silence greeted her. When she could crack open her eyes again, Rylan sat at the edge of the bed with a stoic expression that sent a shaft of alarm straight through her heart. His dark hair fell over his forehead in unusual disarray. The slow tick in his jaw betrayed his emotions. “We don’t know yet.”

“Crap.” Her throat clamped tight. The smell of gasoline and blood nearly gagged her. Fragmented pictures bombarded her.

Bright lights.

Shattering glass and the sickening crunch of metal.