Electric Storm(89)

The process only took seconds but left her exhausted. Though secure for now, the box left a hollow pit where it burned and sputtered in her gut. She had to find a way to rid her system of the power before it spread further. That meant using it. And she couldn’t use it until she got Taggert back for fear that it would put her out of commission. Too bad there were no antibiotics to take for something like that.

She opened her eyes to see the files were gone. In their place, she spied yesterday’s paper tucked under a plate of sandwiches. London must have put it there for her to see. The headlines screamed at her: Dissent on the Police Force; Killer Gets Away While They Argue.

“Where did she get this file?” She recognized Dominic’s commanding voice, saw him standing behind the desk, palms flat as he leaned over and scanned the papers scattered across the surface.

“The guy at the club.” Jackson rubbed the back of his head as if recalling the name hurt, which wouldn’t surprise her. Deep lines dug grooves into his face, his thick brown hair stood on end in clumps, and his clothes were wrinkled as if he’d slept in them. He looked like shit. “Randolph something. I don’t think he was a shifter, but there was something about him that warned everyone to keep their distance.”

London slowly stood, his posture ramrod straight, his thick brows drawing down into a straight line. “Randolph?”

A deep chill settled in her bones at the mention of his name. She refused to allow any of her people near that man. She gingerly sat, her body struggling to remember how lungs should work.

“If he’s after her, he’ll be more trouble than we can handle.” The rumble of London’s words caused Dominic to shift his attention away from the scattered reports, but it was the flash of unrestrained fear she glimpsed in London that grabbed Raven by the throat. Even in the labs, nothing penetrated the thick shields he had erected. Until now.

“What do you know?” The vicious growl of Dominic’s words jerked Raven’s head up. The deep-seated rage that hovered in his voice brought home why he was the leader of the group. “Who’s Randolph?”

Though he directed the question at the others, Raven answered, knowing that there was no way to explain it away. “He’s the fabled killer from the labs rumored to have hunted down our own kind for sport and bring them in for testing.”

“Damn it, Raven, you just can’t do things the easy way, can you?” He ran a hand through his thick hair, his resigned expression making him look older than he had a few minutes ago.

“He was after bigger fish than me.” She cut Dominic off when he would’ve said more. Randolph wouldn’t be pleased that others were aware of his existence. The less everyone knew, the safer they’d be.

“But now he knows about you.”

Score one point for London.

She met his hard stare with one of her own. “He already knew about me because of my claim on Durant. He came to the club to assess and possibly kill me if I happened to be a big enough threat.”

She resisted the urge to rub the ache in her ribs that she got by just talking. She couldn’t let them know how weak she remained, or they’d lock her up and prevent her from doing what needed to be done.

“You’re still alive.” London scanned her body from head to toe, looking at her like she was a ghost. His total disbelief made her want to pat herself down to make sure that she was solid. “Randolph never fails a mission.”

“He was informed that I was a threat. I explained otherwise.” She nodded to the papers. “He gave me those when I told him I was hunting the real killers.”

Jackson neared and she hastily stood before he could get close. Though she ached for his touch, she was afraid of what it would do to both of them.

“I gave him something else to focus on other than me.” Raven sat in the chair across from the desk, not only to see those papers but prevent herself from sprawling on the floor.

Jackson refused to retreat, but refrained from touching her. Without a word, he handed her a sandwich. She eyed the food, then ate without tasting, more out of need than any hunger. Her mind churned as she methodically chewed. There had to be a way to save Taggert without risking anyone else.

“Maybe you’d better explain what the hell you stepped into on this case.” Dominic sat at the desk, his voice a command, not a request.

“You and the group leave by the end of the week. I’ve been trying to keep you out of my cases for this reason. Leave it be.”

“Like hell.” The vehemence in his statement took her aback. He ensured everyone’s safety in the group, evaluated the risks and decided what cases to take. His actions now didn’t make sense. She wasn’t one of his, not really.