Deadly Storm Read online

  The right of Skye Knizley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Formatting by: Dreams2Media

  Model photography provided by Neostock

  Edited by: Elizabeth A. Lance

  Deadly Storm Copyright© 2017 Skye Knizley

  All rights reserved

  Raven Storm™ Aspen Kincaid™ and The Storm Chronicles™

  property of Skye Knizley.

  Released through Vamptasy Publishing

  www.vamptasy.com

  The Storm Chronicles novels are currently in development for television with Council Tree Productions. Follow Skye to keep up to date: https://www.facebook.com/authorskyeknizley/

  The Storm Chronicles

  Stormrise

  Stormrage

  Stormwind

  Shadowstorm

  Raven

  Storm

  Aspen (Occurs chronologically between Stormrage and Stormwind)

  Night Raven

  Stormfront

  Deadly Storm

  Stormcry

  Other Storm Chronicles™ Novels

  Fresh Blood

  Blood Highway (TBR)

  Storm Mage

  Other Skye Knizley Tales

  Requiem

  Winter Cove

  Cry, Havoc - Beautiful Nightmares Anthology

  CONTENTS

  FOREWORD

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The Yuletide holiday approaches, and Special Agent Raven Storm is looking forward to spending the holiday with her fiancée Aspen Kincaid and their closest friends. They’ve decorated a tree and stockings are hung by the chimney with care for the first time in decades.

  When the body of Jensen Murphy, a lycan, is found with a silver bullet in his skull, Raven is forced to abandon her plans and take the case.

  As a winter storm freezes the city and darkens the holiday mood, Raven discovers the Renegades have far more dangerous plans than a dead lycan. She’s all that stands between the most powerful cadre the world has ever seen, and the bloody end of House Tempeste.

  Deadly Storm: Merry Witchmas.

  FOREWORD

  It is important to me that the Chronicles continue to evolve yet always feel like the stories my readers have come to know and love. Finding that balance gets tricky every now and then, but it is worth plodding through to create a story that fits with the established storyline and moves things forward in Raven’s World.

  It took three false starts that didn’t feel like Raven Storm novels, four rewrites of this manuscript and, finally, the finished story. You hold the tenth novel in the Storm Chronicles series in your hand. Though years have passed since the first novel was written, this story was born in the same place as Stormrise, a hellish year complete with setbacks and unexpected life changes. As a result, Raven’s edge is harder on one side, more vulnerable on the other. She’s had a rough five years, ending in (spoilers if you haven’t read Stormfront) dying and spending seventy years in a freezer, only to be awakened by True Love’s Kiss. That leaves a mark on a person.

  In the end, this is a story I’m proud of. There are some surprises, some character development you might not have expected and a couple deaths that are important to the overall story arc. I hope you enjoy the ride.

  Skye Knizley

  November 2017

  THE STORM CHRONICLES

  Forget what you think you know about the world. There is another world, a world where true evil exists, lurking in the darkness. Vampires, Lycans, Demons, the Bogeyman and all the other things that go bump in the night walk among you, rub shoulders with you…and feed on you.

  I’m something different. I was born to a pureblood vampire and an Immortal. I have a vampire’s strength and abilities and almost none of their weaknesses. They call me Dhampyr, or day walker. And that’s when they’re being nice.

  I used to be a Chicago cop, homicide division. Now I’m with the FBI, Section Thirteen. Don’t ask. All I can tell you is when darkness comes crawling out of the pit, I’m the one who sends it screaming back to hell.

  I am the Night.

  I am Raven Storm.

  PROLOGUE

  North Michigan Avenue, Chicago

  It’s always darkest before the dawn. That’s what they say, isn’t it?

  The thought came to Raven Storm as she lay in the shadows between the subway tracks. She felt as if she’d been hit by a train, a scenario that would soon come to pass if she couldn’t find the energy to drag herself back onto the platform. She could hear the next train coming, feel the vibration in the dirt and gravel beneath her and see the bright flashes of electricity in the tunnel ahead of her. It wouldn’t be long before it rounded the corner and turned her into a few pounds of dhampyr pâté. She was technically immortal now, but who knew how long it would take to regenerate from something like that?

  She spat a gobbet of blood and what might have been the tip of her tongue, then dragged herself forward. Her blouse, once her trademark blue silk, was torn and ragged from the lycan’s attack, her hands were broken and blood ran from a gash in her forehead, threatening to blind her, yet she continued. Death wasn’t something she was willing to accept, especially not in the bowels of the city ground under the wheels of a train. It was a stupid way to die.

  “Ray? Ray where the hell are you?” Levac called from the darkness.

  Raven tried to answer, but her tongue wouldn’t work. She’d definitely bitten through it when the lycan tossed her into the passing subway train. Instead she managed a noise that sounded like “wtsfgl.”

  Levac’s unshaven, worried face appeared on the edge of the platform. He was wearing his old beige trench coat, complete with mustard stains and hints of pickle around the collar, a rumpled grey suit and a purple tie Raven knew Sloan bought him for his birthday. Levac had about as much fashion sense as a deranged magpie with a bedazzler.

  “Do you know there’s a train coming?” Levac asked, jumping down to help Raven stand.

  “Really?” Raven asked. It sounded like wealwy. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  She leaned on his shoulder and looked at the oncoming train. She could see the terrified driver through the windshield, desperately trying to stop the engine before it could run her down. It was going to be close. Levac pushed her onto the platform and jumped clear, narrowly missing being hit himself.

  Raven lay on the platform and watched the train go by inches from her face
. Blurry figures bundled in coats and carrying holiday packages rode within, most oblivious to the drama unfolding outside. Those who did notice waved or took pictures with their phones as they passed.

  “Are you alright?” Levac asked.

  Her hands were broken, her arm was broken and her head felt like someone was playing the Anvil Chorus on it using real anvils. Of course she wasn’t okay.

  She sat up and fumbled in Levac’s pocket for the blood pouch she knew he carried for emergencies. She could smell the coppery aroma. The frosted red bag with its attached cool pack fell into her hands, along with half a dozen ketchup and mustard packets from various fast food restaurants.

  Raven bit into the bag and sucked on the contents, trying not to gag on the cloying metallic taste.

  Levac sat down beside her. “I guess not. Are you going to tell me who hauled off and kicked Raven Storm’s ass?”

  Raven finished the blood and stuffed the bag into what was left of her jacket. Already she could feel her body healing. “A primal lycan. He came out of nowhere just as I was about to arrest Jimmy Blue Eyes. He threw me into a passing train, I didn’t see what happened next, I was too busy being smashed into the wall.”

  “Well, I’ve got good news, at least about Jimmy. He’s in custody and taking a ride down to District One. They’ll hold him until tomorrow, then he’ll be transferred to Section Thirteen,” Levac said.

  Raven pulled herself to her feet. “How is District going to hold him? He’s a shape-shifter!”

  Levac stood. “Aspen whipped up a charm to keep him stuck in his current form until King and company come for him. Don’t sweat it, boss.”

  “One thing down. Let’s find the werewolf son of a bitch who threw me into the subway,” Raven said. “I have a bone or two to pick with him.”

  Levac paused. “Don’t you think you should maybe rest and live to fight another day?”

  Raven kept walking, doing her best to ignore the strange ripping and cracking noises and accompanying pain shooting through her as she healed. “No. This wasn’t a random act of violence, someone sent him after me, and I want to know why.”

  Outside, it was snowing and Raven shivered as the wind blowing down Michigan Avenue bit through what was left of her jacket and blouse. The new Jaguar SUV she’d bought was sitting at the curb half a block away. She didn’t like the Jag, it was big and slow and handled like a tank, but the winter had been so bad she needed four wheel drive. She’d rather drive the Jag than wreck her cherished Shelby on the slick roads outside the city.

  She reached it as her hands finished healing and popped open the hatch. Mixed in with her regular gear was a wide, flat suitcase that held a change of clothes. She tossed her destroyed jacket into a nearby trash bin, along with her torn shirt and remaining glove, then changed into the red blouse and spare jacket from the case. When she closed the hatch she realized the passengers on the bus beside her had just watched her change clothes on a public street. One of them was taking video.

  “You’re going to be on Youtube again,” Levac observed. He’d unwrapped a chocolate bar and was gnawing on the corner.

  Raven shrugged and checked her pistol, which was still holstered on her hip. Somehow the Automag hadn’t suffered so much as a scratch in the attack. If she hadn’t been chasing Blue Eyes she might have been able to draw it instead of losing one of her favorite shirts to a passing train. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”

  She sniffed at her arm and frowned. The smell of blood was almost overpowering, but beneath it was a scent Raven was all too familiar with, a mix of wet dog and rotting meat, the odor of a primal lycan. Her nose wasn’t as powerful as a lycan’s, but she would recognize the smell if she encountered it again.

  Levac took another bite of chocolate and scratched his ear. “So, what now? Last time I checked, you couldn’t track a lycan in a snowstorm.”

  Raven looked at the street. Every business, every building was decorated for the holiday with lights in the windows and wreaths on the lampposts outside. The lights combined with the oncoming night and the deepening storm made it look like a Hallmark card come to life. There weren’t many places a lycan could hide or find clothes to change into, and the one that attacked her hadn’t been wearing much. He couldn’t have gotten far in this weather without being noticed. She opened her phone and pressed a number on speed dial.

  “Hey Ray, how’d the arrest go?” Aspen asked on the second ring.

  “It went fine, honey. Can you get into the surveillance cameras on Michigan Avenue?” Raven asked.

  Aspen paused. “Sure, what am I looking for? Did Jimmy have friends?”

  Raven met Levac’s eyes. He was trying not to laugh. “A lycan or a half naked man running out of the subway in the last ten minutes.”

  “Seriously?” Aspen asked.

  “Just do it, Asp. The bastard ripped my Armani.”

  “Ouch, are you okay?”

  “Pissed, but otherwise fine,” Raven said.

  “I’m into the system, checking the footage.”

  Raven nodded as if Aspen could see her and began to pace back and forth next to the Jaguar.

  Levac finished his chocolate and stuffed the wrapper into his pocket. “Relax Ray, we’ll find him.”

  Raven looked at him. “If he came after me, he might go after someone else.”

  Levac’s face changed. “I hadn’t thought of that. You think he was with the Renegades?”

  “He sure as hell wasn’t with Jimmy Blue Eyes. What d’you have, Asp?”

  “No naked dudes or lycans…wait a second, got a possible hit, a big guy in a coat. Looks like he’s barefoot and heading up Michigan toward the Donut Vault,” Aspen said.

  Raven started running, her boots sure on the slippery snow that coated the street and sidewalk in holiday meringue. She spotted a large, shaggy haired man in a long leather coat a block ahead on the other side of the street and changed her direction to catch up. Cars slid in the snow and horns blared, but Raven didn’t slow. She vaulted two stopped taxis and pounded after the lycan.

  Even in human form the lycan’s senses were sharp. He must have heard Raven coming, for he looked over his shoulder and turned down an alley between the Donut Vault and a shop selling holiday ornaments. Raven drew her pistol and slowed to a trot. When she entered the alley she would be silhouetted against the street lights and holiday cheer of Michigan Avenue. The lycan wasn’t likely to be carrying a weapon, not when he was naked as a Jay, but she wasn’t taking any chances. He’d already taken her by surprise once. She pressed herself to the wall outside the alley and stretched her senses, listening. She realized after a moment that people on the street had stopped and were staring at her. Staring at the woman covered in her own blood holding a silvered Automag pistol. She glared at them and Levac skidded to a halt on the snow next to her.

  “Ah, hello everyone. Official FBI business, please carry on and have a Happy Holiday,” he said. His Columbo smile was in place, an expression that put people at ease no matter how odd the situation. Cries of Merry Christmas! and Happy Holidays! echoed around them and the street resumed its hectic pace.

  “That is so weird,” Raven said.

  Levac drew his own weapon. “Everyone has a talent. How are we doing this?”

  “Same as always.”

  “Just once I want to try something different. Maybe we should order a pizza and play good cop bad cop,” Levac said. “You can be the bad cop.”

  Raven rolled her eyes and peered around the corner into the alley. In the shadow of the setting sun she could see that the narrow passage ended in a blank brick wall. The lycan’s coat lay atop one of the dumpsters gathering snow, but there was no sign of him. Raven stepped around the corner and crept forward, her pistol held in front of her.

  “We tried it your way, furball, care for a rematch?”

  The lycan growled fro
m the shadows behind the dumpster. “You’re tougher than you look, dhampyr, I underestimated you. So much the better, I will tear you apart myself.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a no on the surrendering and coming quietly,” Raven said.

  The lycan rose from the gloom, eight feet of monstrosity covered in black fur shot through with silver along his muzzle. “I believe your phrase is ‘not today’, Fürstin Ravenel.”

  “Shifting in broad daylight? That’s risky,” Levac said. “And violates seven different laws of the Totentanz.”

  Raven looked over her shoulder at him and he shrugged.

  “Sloan gave me the abridged version as a present. I keep it in the bathroom.”

  Raven shook her head and turned her attention back to the lycan. “Last chance, pal. Why did you come after me?”

  The lycan flexed his claws. “You’re going to die, half-breed. That human weapon doesn’t frighten me.”

  “It should. Holy water, oak, garlic, silver, iron filings and a partridge in a pear tree delivered at two thousand feet per second. Shift back to human and you might live long enough to celebrate the holidays,” Raven said.

  The lycan roared in defiance, a noise that echoed off the walls and sent a chill racing down Raven’s spine, and charged. Paws the size of dinner plates churned up snow and his yellow eyes bored into hers as if they could see her very soul.

  Raven squeezed the trigger of her pistol a split second before Levac fired his. Both bullets struck home and the lycan tumbled backward into the snow, blood trailing from his forehead.

  “No Merry Christmas for you,” Raven said to his corpse.

  CHAPTER ONE

  343 Wolf Point, Chicago, IL December 22nd 12:15am

  The dream… the nightmare, was always the same. She could feel the cold of the freezer, hear the dull sounds of people talking nearby, but she couldn’t see them, couldn’t move. She was frozen, trapped within her own soul with no way out, unable to call for help. It left her terrified, drenched in sweat that gelled against her skin in the night. Raven sat up with a scream caught in her throat, eyes wide with fright. It took her a moment to remember it was just a dream, it wasn’t real and she was safe at home.