Blood Law (27 page)

“He
cannot hear us, Falon. You and I, we share blood. It is just the two of us in
our own little world. I can come to you at my leisure, and Rafael will know
nothing of it. Unless you choose to tell him. Then”—Lucien shook his head—“what
do you think my brother will do when he discovers his chosen one came to me in
every sense of the word?”

Falon
kicked at him. If she told Rafael what happened, he would shun her, and in the
process might get himself killed taking his revenge. “Tell him, and I’ll give
you a headache you won’t ever forget.”

Lucien
threw his head back and laughed again. “You cannot harm me, Falon. But mark my
words; I intend to destroy my brother just as he destroyed me.”

“Your
woman was a Slayer! She would have destroyed all of you!”

Lucien’s
head snapped back; he eyed her suspiciously. “So says my brother.”

“How
did he know?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaky. If she were related to
Edward, that meant she was a Slayer by blood. Could Lucien see it in her?

“He
says she showed herself to him. Slayers’ eyes go black when they reach the
height of passion. Whether it be anger, lust, or bloodlust to kill.”

“He-he
saw her eyes turn black.”

Lucien
looked down at the wolf and sneered. “My brother could not handle the fact that
I had taken a mate and would become solo alpha. He concocted a lie and killed
her.”

Falon
did not believe it. Rafael was noble. High above lies. “You’re a fool, Lucien.
A jealous, selfish fool. You will sacrifice all for your petty revenge!”

He
pounced on her, shoving her back into the covers. His body was blistering hard.
His scent earthy with a hint of ocean, like the Monterey pines meeting the
turbulent Pacific. He was as primal in his anger as Rafael was in his passion
for her. Lucien’s fury rose thick and hot against her thigh. He forced her legs
apart. “I would have given my life for my brother, but instead he took mine
when he took my chosen one from me.” Lucien dropped his head down to hers. “Did
he tell you how he did it?” he hoarsely demanded against her neck. His teeth
skimmed along her jugular.

“Yes,”
she breathed.

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“Did
he tell you that he ripped her heart out of her chest as I made love to her?
That she died in my arms?”

“Yes,”
she said, barely able to say it, unable to imagine Rafael doing such a heinous
thing to his brother. His twin. A spark of compassion for Lucien ignited in her
heart. Rafael may have been right, she was a Slayer, but she was still the
woman Lucien loved.

“I’m
sorry, Lucien,” she whispered.

He
snarled, ignoring her words. His ragged gaze pierced her. His lips drew back
from his teeth in a nasty smile. “What poetic justice it would be if I took you
right now. If I fucked you and ripped your heart out of your chest and left it here,
on the bed for my brother.”

“No,”
she whispered. She didn’t want to be someone’s vengeance.

“No.
That would be too easy. He needs to suffer longer. Harder.” Lucien bit her. His
fangs pierced her tender skin where Rafael had earlier, then sank deep into her
flesh, muscle, and artery. Falon screamed and arched into him. Straining in a
macabre sexual dance. She wished death over his taking of her, but she could
not stop her body’s lustful response to him any more than she could stop the
moon from rising.

Lucien’s
body responded in kind. He lifted his hips, forcing himself upon her. Panic
seized her. She tried to calm enough to gather her powers, to force him from
her with her mental lightning bolts, but she was too afraid if she took even
the slightest part of her attention from his taking of her, he would seize the
moment.

The
head of his cock tapped her nether lips, then slowly rocked back and forth
between them. A shock wave of sensation hit her body. Falon bit her lip so hard
she drew blood. The copper scent added fuel to his raging flame. His fingers
dug into her skin, and his body tensed as he prepared to take her. “Stop,
Lucien!” she commanded. “I will despise the sight of you forever if you do
this.”

“I
don’t care what you think of me,” he snarled. His body tightened, his hips
moved against her.

Falon
opened her eyes and caught her breath. His eyes burned red-hot. His wild black
hair fell down into her face, shrouding them.

“Yes,
you do,” she breathlessly said. “You’re an alpha, Lucien. A leader.” His
muscles clenched as a sheen of sweat broke out across his dark skin. His jaw
clenched, his lips drawn tight, revealing straight white teeth, his breathing
labored. “Please,” she softly said, “Act as a true alpha would, and release
me.”

He
rolled from her with a curse but yanked her up by a hank of her hair, so close
to his lips she thought he was going to kiss her. “I’m not done with you.” He
shoved her back onto the bed. He looked down at the stirring wolf on the bed
beside her. “Or my brother.”

Falon
closed her eyes, knowing she was safe. For the moment. When she opened them
again, Lucien was gone, but the big golden wolf stood over her with a
questioning look on his face.

Confusion
reigned supreme. What the hell had just happened? She sat up and looked toward
the closed door, then around the room. Where had Lucien gone, and why hadn’t
Rafael gone after him? The wolf licked her hand. She looked at him. Her body
trembled. Her head ached. Had she dreamed Lucien? She touched her neck where
both brothers had marked her. Fresh blood stuck to her fingertips.

More
for comfort than anything else, Falon reached out to pull the great gold beast
to her. She was cold, afraid, and confused. He licked her neck where she had
just touched. She flinched. He pressed his nose to her skin and sniffed. He
snarled viciously, snapping at her. She screamed, pushing away from him. He
snarled again and jumped from the bed.

Dear
God, Rafael knew.

Her
body iced. She looked at Rafael, who continued to snarl viciously at her. His
words so recently spoken came back to haunt her. I don’t share. Ever.

She
slipped from the bed, wanting to explain but not daring to. Though it had been
a dream to her, it was real to him. Lucien’s scent mingled with her musky scent
and hung damningly between them. “Rafael—I’m sorry,” she whispered. And knew as
she said the words, whatever they had shared was gone.

Rafael
turned and bolted against the thick door, sending it flying off the hinges.
Falon stood naked and terrified in the middle of the room.

Her
instinct screamed at her to go after Rafael, demand he listen to her, force him
to understand that she had no hand in what happened. Lucien tricked her, using
her love for Rafael against her.

Falon
gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth. Love! When had love happened?

“Rafael!”
She desperately called. “Come back!”

But
he would not. She knew it as sure as she knew she loved him. Crazy as it
sounded, she did. That love took hold of her determination to get her man back.

Quickly,
she dressed.

ALL
HER LIFE Falon had run. Run from who she was, what she was. Run because she was
different and feared those differences.

She
was done running.

The
only running she was going to do now was toward answers.

She’d
already started. She had discovered and embraced her powers here in the
compound. Not only that, but she had been emotionally and sexually awakened,
not by one man but by two. One man she loved; the other she despised. The first
was lost to her because of the second. Or was he?

As
unconventional and different as Rafael was, she loved him. She belonged to him.
He had marked her. He had trusted her! Promised to protect her from Lucien. Her
place was by Rafael’s side. But how? He was a stubborn, testosterone-driven man
and beast, and both were convinced she was guilty of a crime far worse than
death. Adultery, with his nemesis of all people, akin to treason in his mind.

Grief
clogged her throat, making it difficult to exhale. As did the feeling of
hopelessness seeping into her soul. She had lost something so precious, so
profound, something that had breathed life into her hollow soul. She realized
when she saw him chained by the Slayers and about to be destroyed that she
loved him, would die for him. She had found him only to lose him. No amount of
begging, borrowing, or stealing could get him back.

It
was as if their connection had died. Once a life was taken, there was no
rebirth.

Argh!
She threw the pillows across the room. Even if she could convince him she did
not have sex with his brother, she had to leave. What, dear God, what if she were
a Slayer? Rafael would destroy her on principle alone. There was no staying
here. Not now.

She
must go, and she could not come back to him until she knew who she was. Falon
prayed to every god imaginable that she was not remotely related to any Slayer.
But, if by some terrible twist of fate she were, she would move the entire
Sierra range if that’s what it took to convince Rafael she was a worthy mate,
that she loved him above all others and would stand beside him and battle each
and every Slayer that walked the earth. If she were Slayer, and she could love
him, a Slayer with no hate in her heart toward Lycans, only love, then surely
there could be peace between their people.

Though
her heart ached, a sliver of hope shone through the bleakness that had become
her despair. She would discover the truth about herself and, regardless of what
that truth was, she would force Rafael to face it and accept it. Then he would
accept the truth about Lucien. The truth about her.

There
was only one person who could give her answers now: Corbet. She would find him
and demand he tell her who she was. Why she had been abandoned. Whatever
information she learned, she’d use it to leverage an end to this craziness
between Slayers and Lycans.

New
resolve filled her with a confidence she had never experienced. The bloodlust
between Lycans and Slayers made no sense to her. Did they kill each other just
because their ancestors had? How meaningless was that? She’d show them the
stupidity of their eight-hundred-year war and why it held no relevance in
today’s world. She’d help them heal. Could she make them BFFs?

No,
that could never be, but there could be peace.

Falon
dressed, then kicked out the glass of the bathroom window Rafael had staked
shut, and this time when she jumped, she cleared the compound fence by several
feet. She was stronger now. Faster. She hit the ground running. To the
warehouse, from there she would track Corbet. Her feet flew over the soft,
loamy grass. She hurdled downed logs and exposed boulders. Everything smelled
crisper, cleaner, sharper. Her vision was that of a cat’s. Each forest sound
was distinct rather than a resonant mixture.

Behind
her, she sensed the warm breaths of several Berserkers. She didn’t fear them.
She had saved Angor. Instinctively, she knew he would not harm her. Unless . .
. Falon stumbled. Unless Rafe gave the kill order, something he might do, given
his belief she’d betrayed him. Betrayed him with . . .

She
picked up the scent she had come to fear. Fear on so many levels, and yet the
fear of losing Rafael was greater than the fear of his brother.

Lucien
was close. He would know where Corbet was. But she didn’t dare go to him. She
would do that later, after she discovered the truth. And asking him questions
or favors wouldn’t be her purpose.

In
the back of her mind, Falon had the ridiculous notion that she could reunite
the brothers. That she could mend the hatred that clogged both their hearts.
Only then, she realized, could there truly be peace.

So
many vague memories muddled her brain as she ran, her thoughts focusing on that
night in the warehouse. On the ring that had brought her here to Rafe. On the
niggling thought in her subconscious that she’d seen the ring long before she’d
encountered Conan at Del’s market.

She
stumbled again as memories solidified. She had seen it! As a child, not just on
Conan’s hand. God help her, but had it been her father?

Dear
Lord, was he a Slayer?

Was
she?

A new
scent drifted in the air. Female and distinctly Lycan. Familiar. Not from
Rafael’s pack but strangely from long ago. Falon slowed her frantic pace,
coming to a dead stop. She lifted her nose and quieted her thoughts.

The
scent escaped her as another one overpowered it. Lucien. He was closer now. She
could hear his deep breaths, feel the pounding of his heart.

You
can run from me, but you can never hide.

Falon
took off, ignoring Lucien’s words. She could run and she could hide, and when
she had her answers, she would use all her power to force him to confront
Rafael and tell him what hadn’t happened. Rafael would accept she’d been a
victim of Lucien’s manipulation. That she hadn’t been a willing partner in his
sex games. And then, maybe, Rafael would soften.

Lucien’s
scent intensified around her.