Conspiracy of Ravens (Crawford Investigations Book 1) Read online

  Nope. That would be pathetic. She totally wouldn’t…okay, she did. Every night.

  Ugh. What was she going to do? She couldn’t let Bear deliver the Claíomh Solais, whomever he or she was. It might save Raven, but she knew enough about Luke to realize Bear wouldn’t walk away from the exchange alive. He’d tried to back out of a deal with the Lord of War, and that had consequences.

  Bear had his faults, many faults, but none of those should carry a death sentence. Although not exactly altruistic, Bear wouldn’t cross a client for just anything. He must’ve had a good reason. Justified or not, his death would tear a hole in her heart. She eyed her angry fingers and palms again. She’d do anything to keep Bear safe. She couldn’t be under Luke’s control to do that.

  Raven drummed her fingers along the smooth bathroom tiles. The dark energy continued to swirl in her core, the essence she reached for when she shifted, thrummed in her veins. Each time she came to the Other Realms, it grew stronger, even if her visits were short-lived. After Odin's power blast, her awareness of her otherness had crystalized. The energy pulsed with each heartbeat.

  Raven reached down and grasped the dark power. It swirled around her. Normally, it spiralled out and as the energy flowed through, her consciousness fractured into multiple ravens to operate like a hive mind.

  Her brow furrowed. Little pebbles of sweat broke across her nose and slid down her face. Not this time. She needed one raven, and only one raven body part—something she’d never tried before. Would it even work?

  As her power began its twisted ascent, she strained to keep the potency from breaking apart. Sweat ran down her back. Her head ached. The energy pushed against her guiding hold.

  No! Stay.

  She tensed and squeezed. The power grew and intensified, like a fast flowing river reaching a precipice. She attempted to contain and control the flow…with paddles too small for the job and no experience.

  Her body hurt. Her heart throbbed as it thudded hard and heavy. Just a little farther.

  The energy ran into her right leg. Raven gasped. More power arrived, slamming into her foot. Pain lanced up her leg. She screeched.

  Bear. Think of Bear.

  The wind outside picked up, howling against the cabin in unison with her, mirroring her misery.

  Her vision wavered. Her control slipped. No!

  The agony eased. Instant relief flooded her body.

  Scrambling, she gathered the power and directed it toward her foot again. The agony returned. She gritted her teeth. She clenched her jaw so hard a filling cracked. Pain exploded in her head. Blood coated her tongue. Think of Bear. She needed to get out of here to save him. Memories of her childhood with her twin surfaced. Bear pulling her pigtails. Raven pushing him down a deep ditch. Snowball fights. Car rides bickering. Playground tantrums. Bear hugging her after punching Thomas Lavé in the face for calling her “Plumpy Monkey.” Her mind distanced from the pain, the intense ache washed over her.

  As if she flicked a switch, the transformational energy took hold. Her boot ripped apart and the leg of her jeans tore as talons of a human-sized raven erupted from what was once her foot. Pale skin peeled back to reveal dark scales. The ghastly stench of raw flesh and magic hit her nose.

  Raven panted and stared at her glistening black talons. The sight both beautiful and a hideous abomination.

  Hopefully, she could reverse this.

  Odin’s shriveled scrotum! What if she couldn’t reverse this? Her heart spasmed before pounding so hard, her ears thudded.

  Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. Keep it together, Crawford. Think of Bear. Think of Bear. Her lungs ached.

  Something metal clanked outside as the storm continued to gain momentum.

  The air suddenly rushed out of the bathroom. The small room buzzed as a portal snapped in place in the living room.

  “Oh, little Raven, where are you?” Luke crooned.

  She didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. Asshat. Had he returned with more kitschy plaques to hang? Maybe a singing fish?

  Her skin prickled. With a grunt, she moved her still throbbing leg and ran one talon along the delicate skin of her other leg’s calf. She winced as the sharp talon dug in and split her flesh. Blood ran out and splattered on the floor.

  “Beul na h-Oidhche gu Camhanaich, I summon you,” she whispered. Good thing she’d practiced his name, even if her reasons for doing so were embarrassing. Her cheeks grew warm.

  Luke’s heavy footsteps thumped around the living room. Then the kitchen.

  “Raven?” he barked. He headed down the hall.

  “In the bathroom. Go away.” She slammed the door shut from her seated position and locked it before turning back to stare at her bleeding leg. “Beul na h-Oidhche gu Camhanaich, I summon you.”

  Luke growled outside the bathroom “Get out here now, or I’ll break down the door.”

  Pretty sure at least part of that sentence was from a children’s movie featuring a beast having a tantrum. Somehow the image of Bane as a beast prince didn’t lighten the situation. Sweat ran down her face. Why hadn’t Cole shown up yet? Could he hear her? Did she have to scream his name?

  Luke thumped his fist on the door. The wood shook and the hinges rattled.

  “Can’t a girl pee?”

  “Now!”

  “Beul na h-Oidhche gu Camhanaich, I summon thee!” she cried.

  Luke roared.

  The shadows shifted. She scooted away from the shaking door and toward the growing darkness.

  Luke rammed through the bathroom door. It splintered on contact. Wood fragments flew through the air. One sliced her cheek. He paused where the door once hung, his large muscular frame taking up the entire entrance. He looked down at her deformed leg. His eyes widened.

  The shadows wrapped around her.

  Metal flashed through the air as something passed her head toward Luke. Ninja stars, the metal reflecting the bathroom’s dull light.

  Luke grunted and stepped aside to avoid the weapons. They sank into the soft wood of the door frame.

  Before Cole whisked her away through shadows, she met Luke’s angry gaze. The Lord of War stared back, furious, eyes glowing red as his tense body vibrated with malice. The promise of revenge in his dark expression was the last thing she saw before the shadows enveloped her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “We’re all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours.”

  ~Meghan Coates

  The shadows cleared like clouds parting to a bright, full moon, leaving Raven in Cole’s warm embrace, in the middle of her small apartment. His arms tightened around her and his chest pressed against her back. Warm air swept against her neck with each breath he took. The sting from the cut on her cheek eased away. He ran the bridge of his nose against her ear, his satin lips brushed her skin. All the while, the gentle caress of his breath continued to massage her senses.

  Tension flowed from her muscles. She grew languid in his arms. Her body molded to his own. As if stoking a flame deep within her, heat rose with each gentle touch, each a silent request for more.

  Cole paused. “Has your foot sprouted talons?”

  Warmth flooded her cheeks. She looked down. Her foot remained a large, grotesque deformity. She stiffened in his arms.

  “Shhh.” He ran his hands down her arms.

  “I needed to draw blood.” She gulped. “I…I couldn’t find anything sharp.”

  Cole continued to stroke her arms. “Is this normal?”

  “No.”

  “Have you tried—?”

  “No.” She sighed and forced the muscles in her shoulders and neck to relax. Her body slumped against Cole’s. His strong arms tightened to support her, but his contact didn’t disrupt her dark energy the way Bane’s did. Instead, his own power pushed out and synched with her essence. Her head grew light and her vision swam, yet, she felt good. Really good. Like she’d done one too many strawberry liqueur shots in a row. Reaching inside, she found the
dark potent energy of her ravens waiting and pulled hard.

  When the chaotic call of the birds spiraled up, she embraced the power, riding it like a giant tidal wave. No longer fighting, or attempting to control and direct, she surrendered, merging with the darkness. Her body burst into multiple black bodies. Feathers flapped as her consciousness split between the birds. Like it normally did. Normal.

  Thank the Banshee’s left tit.

  Cole stepped back and opened his arms, creating more room for the birds to spread their wings. His eyebrows shot up.

  The corvids croaked and settled down and a calm familiarity swept through the group. They perched around the room, turning beady eyes to the dark wonder of Cole. In this form, his body wavered with the shadows, bending with the shifting realities.

  He straightened and the corner of his lips tugged up. “Full of surprises.”

  Oops. He’d never seen her transform before. He must’ve assumed she had only one bird. Guess the secret was out now.

  Like waves to a shoreline, Cole lured her ravens in. The shadows lurking around him pulled with invisible ropes. She yearned to go to him, to touch, to taste, to feel.

  He held his hand out, palm up, in open invitation. The nearby lamp flickered in his dark, expressive gaze.

  With a simple, single thought, her birds launched from their various perches and merged. The chaos slowed down until its manic twisting stopped and solidified. Her human body reformed, bone for bone, flesh for flesh, until she stood in front of Cole on two, normal-sized, human feet.

  Naked.

  The light in his eyes danced. His shadows swept in to surround them. With feather light touches, the darkness caressed her bare skin.

  “We should talk,” he said. His deep voice did little to break the spell of his magic. Instead, the rumble vibrated along her senses. The shadows ran down her arms and up her legs in warm, smooth waves—tempting, offering, wanting.

  “I don’t want to talk.” Not right now. Not here. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say that might ruin this moment. He’d rescued her from a dangerous fate. He protected her. He helped her. She wanted to be his, if only for a night. Explanations could wait.

  Cole took a step to close the distance between them.

  “I want to feel,” she whispered.

  His mouth clamped on hers before she finished her breath. His arms circled her, and large rough hands pressed into her back. The shadows continued their slow exploration. Cole’s tongue delved into her mouth. He tasted sinfully sweet, like a cinnamon bun slathered with icing—something she shouldn’t have but inhaled anyway with no regard for consequences. She could, and probably would, feel guilty later. Maybe even regret rushing into things.

  The dark energy ran up the insides of her thighs, igniting the sensitive skin with wicked promises. The shadows wrapped around them, a dark cocoon of exquisite energy. Her body lifted. Cole’s hands explored her body, stroking, gripping, caressing. The air spiraled up. Her hair whipped around and the shadows released them by the foot of the mattress in her dark bedroom.

  “Neat,” she said.

  Cole smiled against her neck and he trailed kisses down her body. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged up. Cole grunted and pulled back far enough and long enough for her to slip the stretchy cotton over his head. Muscle corded his body—not I-work-out muscle, but the well-honed strength created from a lifetime of drills and fighting. His warm mouth and hands were back on her the second the fabric passed his face. The flow of shadows crashed all around her, rolling her like ocean waves.

  When she was younger, a riptide caught her, tumbling her out to open ocean. Her lungs had burned with the need for oxygen and when she finally pulled to the surface and gulped fresh ocean air, relief had swept through her entire body. Cole felt a little like the breathless tumble of the riptide, but instead of fear, anticipation consumed her.

  Cole’s hands teased and tempted, demanding her nerves to respond. They lit on fire, burning her senses, pooling heat in her core and limbs.

  She ran her hands along his broad chest. His skin was smooth and hot to the touch. She traced the hollows of his muscles and trailed her fingers along his back. She sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her way to the waistband of his jeans. Somehow, he managed to kick off his shoes and peel off his socks. She unclasped his belt and looked up.

  Cole’s gaze seared her own. Dark, swirling pools of black and gray. She pulled his belt free, sliding it past the loops, and tossed it on the floor. The belt buckle hit the thin laminate with a loud clank. Raw need stared back at her as she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down. They fell to the floor with a soft whisper.

  Raven sucked in a breath.

  Cole didn’t wear boxers or briefs. He went commando and he was huge. His large erection jutted out. Before she could reach out and grip the thick shaft, Cole hauled her up and pulled her into his inferno of heat. His hands continued to stroke while his mouth explored, hot and wet. His forest scent curled around them as wave after wave of sensation rushed over her body. He stepped out of his jeans, now pooled at his feet.

  In one seamless move, he splayed her over the bed. His mouth covered hers. His tongue delved in. He tasted of sin. His hard, naked body pressed her into the soft mattress. The shadow bands ran along her sides until they cupped her breasts. Warm pressure built. The shadows slid to her nipples and pinched.

  Raven moaned. Cole caught the sound with his mouth. One hand smoothed the skin along her face before threading through her hair. The other travelled down her body. He propped up on a forearm. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to pull him close again.

  He leaned back and grinned wickedly. His hand cupped her and all thoughts of trying anything fled. He explored her while he watched her face, gaze blazing. Her fingers dug into his back as the pressure built, waves continuing to roll, over and over again, until the pressure peaked and broke, crashing over her entire body. The tension released and bone-melting delight spread through her limbs, radiating from her core.

  Cole’s weight shifted and pushed her into the mattress again. His knees spread her legs as he settled between her thighs. The head of his shaft pressed into her. As she continued to ride the crashing waves of her first orgasm, he drove into her.

  Raven gasped.

  “Who’s TDD?” he asked.

  Who? What? Where? When? Why was he asking questions right now? Her brain barely functioned.

  He waited.

  Her body pulsed with need, his inaction agony to her nerves. More. She wanted more.

  “You,” she breathed. “It’s you.”

  Cole’s mouth found hers again, his lips soft and gentle, his tongue teasing, contrasting with the rough, hard rhythm he set. She ran her hands along his broad back and rippled muscles to his hard ass. With each pump of his hips, the muscles bunched. She dug her fingertips into the smooth skin, gripped and pulled him closer.

  “What’s it stand for?” he growled in her ear. The deep rumble sent vibrations down to her core.

  “What?”

  “What does TDD stand for?”

  “Tall, dark and dangerous.”

  His lips curled up and he nipped the skin at her neck. Not once did he slow his pace. This time the pressure built, hard and fast, intensifying with his increasing pace. Her release exploded along her skin. Raven cried out.

  Cole’s rhythm faltered. He gripped her hair and his head dropped to her neck. She clutched him as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued to rock her. Her entire body clenched and released, clenched and released.

  Cole grunted and pumped into her a few more times, jerky and uninhibited as he came. For a moment, they lay there, panting. A thin sheen of sweat glued her body to his. She gulped in air. Her heart started to slow and her body settle. Her mind on the other hand whirled around at breakneck speed, trying to catch up with what just happened.

  No! Don’t think about it. Don’t process. Don’t overanalyze. Not yet. Her brain would ruin the mome
nt. It always did.

  Cole rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms. She relaxed into his chest. His heartbeat thudded against her ears. As she listened, it slowed to match her own, beating in tune.

  Cole’s fingers continued to run down her bare arm. His expression grew serious, his face drawn.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Oh hell. There was a whole lot of wrong with what just happened. No protection. No discussion about birth control or health screens. Sweet baby Odin, she was an idiot.

  “Bane took you,” he said.

  Oh. Totally not where her brain went.

  “I didn’t like that.” His hands stilled and gripped her skin. “I don’t like that.”

  “I didn’t like it either. He’s pretty fucked up.”

  Cole tightened his grip. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing. It’s what he said. He suggested Bear was my soulmate. My own brother. The very thought is disgusting. The last time I checked, we’re not in some twisted game for a throne.” She ran her fingers along his arm.

  “Raven.”

  “What?”

  “Bear is your soulmate.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Cole gave her a strange look—part sympathy, part exasperation. “Why is it so hard to understand soulmates aren’t the same thing as mates for werewolves, or what your trashy fantasy novels depict? It means exactly as Huginn and Muninn said—you are two halves to the same coin. You’re each other’s match. You’re twins for a reason. This ensures balance. Most Others are born as twins. The powerful ones at least. I think that’s why Odin spared you.”

  “Are you a twin?”

  He pursed his lips. “I do not wish to speak of my twin.”

  Geez. He probably offed him or her in some sadistic, pagan ritual to gain power. And she’d just slept with him. No. Not slept. That didn’t accurately describe what transpired. Mind-blowing, reality altering, bone-melting sex.