Free Electric Storm by Stacey Brutger Page A

of them could be allowed to know the truth about her birth or the injections forced on her in the labs that made her a crossbreed. It was too dangerous for everyone. “I’m not something you can fix.”
    “No, but I can try to protect you if you’d let me.”
    Her throat tightened at Jackson’s softly spoken words. She could see him shuffling through his thoughts, categorizing her and adding up the facts, concluding that she was a lot more than human.
    But if he knew, why was he being so nice to her now? What changed? She gathered up her laptop and hugged it to her chest. “It would only get you killed.” With deliberate steps, she turned and left. She had research to do without being distracted by the people invading her life.
    The desire to slip out the front door taunted her. Escape whispered in her ears. But she wouldn’t walk blindly into this mess without the proper research.
    The basement door opened on silent hinges and lights flickered on at her movements. As she flipped the computer open, she lost herself in the world of reports and statistics.
    She didn’t know how long she sat there reviewing the photos Scotts had sent of mutilated victims when her senses picked up on the intruder.
    Jerking to her feet, she yanked the power from the room and dumped them in darkness.
    “Please don’t leave.”
    “Taggert?” Relief made her control waver, and the lights flickered then brightened. She picked up the gloves by the computer and tugged them over her naked hands, feeling very exposed.
    “What are you doing down here?” She closed her eyes and severed the connection to her core as hard as possible and all that lovely energy slowly melted back into her bones.
    “It’s late. You aren’t sleeping.” He sounded hesitant, clearly expecting to be reprimanded for daring to voice an opinion. It was the only reason she didn’t snap at him to mind his own business.
    “I don’t sleep often. Go on to bed. I’ll come later.”
    He didn’t move. “You need to rest.”
    She tipped her head to the side, confused at his actions. He appeared pale. A light sheen coated his skin, and a slight tremor passed through his frame. “What’s wrong?”
    “It’s worse at night.” There was no fear in his voice, only acceptance. Those strange eyes, like warm chocolate, focused on her.
    “What is?”
    “Taggert, go to bed.” Jackson’s harsh voice echoed in the cement room. He stepped out of the shadows wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. His skin gleamed in the fractured light.
    When she didn’t say anything, Taggert turned and headed past Jackson and toward the stairs.
    “Maybe it’s about time you tell me what the hell’s going on.” Raven leaned against the table and crossed her arms. “He’s going through drug withdrawal, but there is something else neither of you are telling me.”
    A stubborn look settled on Jackson’s face. “It’s pack business.”
    A disgusted sigh resonated in her chest. “Either I’m allowed to adopt him and treat him as pack, or I’m not. Make up your mind. Which is it?”
    She didn’t think he would answer. When he did, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
    “Once you accept your duties, you’re pack. Stop trying to find ways to get rid of him. You can’t take him now then reject him later. Neither of you will survive if you don’t decide soon.”
    Without saying anything else, he turned and left. She watched the muscles play across his back, but it was the near silent slap of his bare feet that made him appear vulnerable.
    The image jarred the picture she had of him from a hard-ass to a man just doing his duty. But why would an enforcer care about the life of one rogue? Something didn’t add up.
    She was supposed to visit the morgue, but maybe it was time to dig a bit deeper into what exactly these two men expected from her instead. It was apparent that they weren’t going anywhere. She closed the lid on her computer and tucked it under her arm, trying to