Someone murdered her family when she was only four years old and they said her father was a dirty DEA agent. A friend of her father’s keeps her safe for the next twenty years.
Raven’s all grown up now, and she wants answers. She’ll come out of hiding to get them, but she doesn’t expect a special ops guy with a hot bod to get in her way and order her around.
Yeah, she doesn’t handle orders well, and she’s pretty badass herself. One other thing Ty doesn’t know, she’ll stop at nothing to get to the truth.
Ty works for the government--a shadow in stealth operations. He's dark and dangerous, a panther who stalks his prey.
But when someone attempts a break-in at the company he’s been investigating for the last six months, he’s afraid his cover will be blown, and he’s mad as hell.
It won't be as easy as he thinks to stop the thief. Not when he discovers she’s a very sexy female who fights dirty. Oh yeah, she’s good. But she doesn't know that he fights dirty, too.
Dark clouds hung low in the sky. Her heart pounded as she gripped the hand next to her. She stumbled and then looked up into eyes as dark as hers, such a deep blue, and hair that hung in tangles down her back, as black as her own.
Dirty faces, torn dresses, no shoes on their small feet.
“Keep walking,” Sister mumbled. “Can’t stop. They’ll find us.” Sister was ten, she was four.
She scrunched closer to Sister when flashes of the scenes they left behind raced across her mind.
Screams, blood, hiding in the closet huddled close together.
Shots fired, the sound deafening. Splintered wood from the closet door, one nicked her cheek. She tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway. Sister gasped, then grunted.
Whispered, frantic words of their mother. “Run, hide, don’t look back. Never look back.”
They’d crawled out the window, grabbed hands. They were at the big tree when the explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet. They hid behind the gnarled trunk, but peered around the side. Fire shot toward the sky like a beacon in the night. The heat from the burning house crept around the trunk toward them, wrapping around them, tempting them to come nearer.
She took a step toward the burning house but was pulled back.
A bird, black as night, screeched angrily above their heads.
She pointed up.
“Raven,” Sister said, words flat, barely discernable. “Bad omen. With it comes death.”
“Raven,” she whispered.
Sister took a key from around her neck, hands shaking, and pressed it into her hand. “Never lose it,” she said, words ragged as she slid down the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes.
She put the chain around her neck, then curled next to her, but Sister never said another word. Her dress grew wet from the blood spreading across the front, her body cold, but still, she clung to her.
The fire trucks and police came.
She didn’t say a word. They didn’t look behind the tree.
Then everything was quiet again.
Light came, followed by darkness.
Someone, a man, began to shout.
Then he stood in front of her and Sister. Tears slowly rolled down his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I came as soon as Frank called, but I was too late.” He brushed the hair from Sister’s eyes. “So damned sorry, little one.”
She huddled against Sister as close as she could, but he picked her up, taking her away.
“Sister!” she cried.
Tears in his voice, he said, “She’s gone, but I’ll take care of you. I’m Ralph, a friend of your dad. I’ll keep you safe. What’s your name, little one?”
A bird flew overhead, screeching angrily.
She looked up.
“Raven,” she whispered.
With it comes death.