Raven Without Hood Novels & Stories

The days leading up to our final encounter with The Raven were filled with a mixture of anxiety and determination. In the Isabella Voss look, we got a valuable insight into The Raven’s trap, but it still felt like chasing a shadow. The deeper we dug, the denser and more dangerous the wings became.

I watch the door open, Bear, Hawk and Doc walking in and sitting. “Take a look.” I watch as Grayson holds out the box and envelope. Why is he showing them? I stare at him. “Raven’s past is coming back, it’s someone who likes to kill those she is close to. So we’re calling in everyone, if we’re not with her, we need at least three more guys watching her closely.” “You said those she is close to?” Doc looks at us and we nod. “Yes, that includes Ava, so if we’re not going to be with Ava, we need more people around her.” I won’t let Grayson pretend like Ava isn’t a target.

" Neither noticed the man seated alone near the back of the café. He quietly lowered the newspaper hiding his face. He reached into his jacket. Pressed a single button on his earpiece. Then spoke in a calm, professional voice. "Chairman..." the man said. "Mr. Ravenhart has made his move." 11:52 P.M. Private Ravenhart Airfield lay hidden on the outskirts of the city, far from the eyes of reporters and the constant noise of downtown. The runway shimmered beneath the floodlights after the evening rain. At the far end of Hangar Three, a sleek Gulfstream G700 waited with its engines already humming softly.

I follow wordlessly as Hannah checks on Sienna. Raven is short, but her deadly demeanor makes her 3 inches taller. She has the body of a warrior, broad shoulders, hips, round ass, and legs that have climbed many mountain tops in her days working with air force’s extraction team. Too bad she preferred the company of a woman. Her light green eyes are small, but get smaller when she’s worried, and the lines around her eyes are the only giveaway that she is in her late 30s. “River just called. Apparently Natasha is the one with the problem, not Sienna.”

He flicked the cigarette away and mounted his bike, riding off without another word. That night, the unease crystallized into danger. Raven was heading back from a supply run when she caught the scent so sharp, metallic and wrong. Her wolf bristled instantly. Hunters. She froze in the alley behind the warehouse, scanning the shadows. Too quiet, too still. Then the first bolt sang through the air. Raven ducked instinctively, the silver-tipped arrow embedding in the wall where her head had been a heartbeat before. Her wolf roared inside her, surging to the surface.

I wandered between the shelves, letting familiar smells of old paper calm my thoughts. History. Law. Military strategy. Medicinal herbs. Werewolf bloodlines. I stopped… bloodlines. My fingers hovered over a thick leather volume but before I could pull it free— “Looking for something?” I nearly jumped. I turned to see Raven standing at the end of the aisle, she wore a cream sweater today instead of yesterday’s blouse, her dark hair gathered loosely over one shoulder. She looked comfortable, warm and approachable like someone who belonged here. “I didn’t hear you.”

"She’s embarrassed, Valen. Give her a minute." I didn't want to give her a minute. I wanted to make sure she was okay. I walked over to her door and knocked firmly. "Raven?" Nothing. I knocked again, leaning my forehead against the wood. "Raven, please come out. The food is getting cold, and we... we aren't going to bite." I sighed and started to turn away, thinking she was going to hide all night, but then the door slowly creaked open. Raven stepped out, but she looked ridiculous. She was fully dressed in an oversized hoodie, but she was also wearing a black face cap pulled low over her eyes.

One of the vampires had to have some, but would they give it to me? Then, I heard a tutting from behind me. “Rule one of plotting murder,” Raven said. “Don’t, especially if you’re doomed to fail. The second is don’t be so obvious about it.” I turned to look at her. She looked like she’d just taken a shower. Her eyes glowed with a soft red light. She was wearing another pair of tight leather pants and a camisole shirt under an embellished black corset. She looked as if she had rested and her eyes had a soft glow to them.

If he could stay close enough to her, eventually he would catch up, and if he was lucky, he could grab ahold of her long enough to say the incantation that would send her to Hell. Rider rematerialized atop a large building and saw Raven in the distance. She’d dropped her cloak, and as she began to run, he chased after her. She still had her scythe in her hand, though she’d collapsed it into the size of a magic wand, and now that she wore a black cat suit, instead of the bulky cloak, she was much more agile. She couldn’t outrun him, though. She had to know that. What was she trying to do?

“That took longer than I expected.” I spun around. Raven stood a few steps away, a gun raised and steady in her hand. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing the back of her neck. A tattoo drawn there. A cross. I had ever noticed it before. Her hair was always down and had always covered it. Suddenly, everything clicked. Why Knox had said she was different. Why he had said she smelled like rain mixed with mud. Why she was supposed to be dead—yet here she stood.