Blood Law (29 page)

Mentally
Rafe hung his head in shame. Another failure as alpha. He shook off the guilt.
By sunrise, he swore to himself, Talia would be home.

“Rafael,”
Sharia softly said. “Your chosen one seeks the Slayers. You must stop her at
all costs.”

RAFAEL’S
HEART STOPPED for one inexplicable moment before it kicked his chest with the
velocity of a mule team. Unbridled fury that she would dare betray him yet
again raged white-hot in his chest. But to Sharia and her shaman, he remained
outwardly composed.

“She
is dead to me,” Rafael said evenly. “The Slayers will do what Lucien has failed
to do. If they do not, then I will slay her myself.”

Sharia’s
feeble body wobbled toward him. “Tonight is the night. The moon is full and you
are at your strongest, Rafael. The Slayers will not destroy her. They will
protect her and use her powers on all Lycans. You must go after her. Tonight.”

Rafael
swiped his hand across his chin and began to pace his office. Sharia moved into
his path and grabbed his shirt in her gnarled fists, shaking it. “You have
allowed your guilt and emotions to rule for too long, Rafael. Your refusal to
take a mate has prevented the pack from reproducing. Your failure to mate has
inadvertently prevented Lucien from taking another mate, as well. The packs are
dying. Reclaim your chosen one. Only then can destiny play out.”

Rafael
snarled. “She betrayed me with my brother! Even now, she runs to the enemy. I
will never reclaim her!”

“Set
your emotions aside!” she hissed. “If you do not reclaim her, the Slayers will
triumph, and every Lycan will perish before the coming of the Blood Moon. Is
your pride worth the lives of an entire nation?”

Despite
his fury, Rafael gently disengaged the old woman’s hands from his shirt. He
looked over to Daniel, who had said nothing. He didn’t have to. The
recrimination in his eyes spoke volumes. Rafael inhaled sharply then slowly
exhaled. He was alpha. As alpha, he was the one who had to make the hard
decisions. He was the one, not Lucien, who bore the weight of the Lycan nation
on his shoulders. He had let them down too many times over the last fourteen
years. He promised himself he would not do it again. He would take charge in
whatever capacity was required and do what had to be done to preserve his
people and their future existence. But asking him to rescue his chosen one, the
same chosen one who betrayed him with his brother then ran to their mortal
enemy, was too much. He did not know if he possessed the self-control not to
harm her the next time he laid eyes on her. “What am I to do with her once she
is reclaimed?”

“Allow
the Blood Law to be avenged,” Sharia softly but firmly said.

Rafael
shook his head in disbelief. It made no sense. “Reclaim her, and wait for
Lucien to come for her?”

Daniel
nodded as Sharia said, “Yes.”

The
reality of what they asked of him struck him speechless.

“It
is the only way to move past it, Rafael,” Daniel said, speaking for the first
time. “Avenge the Blood Law, and wipe the slate clean. You will be free to take
another mate, and Lucien will follow. The packs must unite if they are to rise
with the sun the day after the Blood Moon rising.”

“Once
the Blood Law is avenged, life will spring from the loins of all Lycans. It
will be a great time to rejoice. The rebirth of the Lycan nation will come with
the rising, but only if the packs are united. See it through, Rafe, then be
done with it! The wounds have festered too long.” Sharia’s voice held strong
with conviction.

Rafael
jammed his fist into his open palm. How could he take Falon back? Did Sharia
expect he take her back into his bed as well? He would not. Never.

He
would not breed with her. Now he was relieved she had not marked him. Until she
did, she would not conceive. He would reclaim her, but in appearances only. Let
Lucien come for her. Let him avenge the Blood Law; only then could Rafael walk
away from the chains of guilt that held him captive all these years and walk to
freedom.

Though
his heart had closed, he nodded. “I will see it done.”

Sharia
nodded and smiled a crooked, knowing smile. She patted Rafael’s hand, then
brought it to her lips and kissed it. The sweet gesture in the midst of such
harsh words took him by surprise. “Your parents would be proud of you, Rafael.
You have finally, after all this time, taken control of your destiny.” She
lowered his hand and let go of it. “I promise you, in the end you will be glad
you did. With your sacrifice, the glory of the Lycan nation will shine brighter
than a thousand full moons. You will see.”

She
turned from him and, with Daniel’s assistance, made her wobbly way out of his
office. Daniel quietly closed the door behind them.

He
replayed Sharia’s words in his head. The ones about his parents being proud of
him. He hadn’t been doing right by them, but today that would end.

The
debilitating yoke that he had dragged around since the day he slew Lucien’s
chosen one, lightened. With it gone, he would be invincible. He growled and
yanked the office door open.

“Anton,
Yuri, tell the boys to saddle up! We’re going hunting!”

NESTLED
HIGH IN the Oakland hills, Falon stood outside a large building that resembled
an old medieval fortress. Though it had taken all day, it had been easy to
track them. She’d returned to the burned-out warehouse and, like a wolf to its
prey, she lifted her nose to the air, caught their lingering scents, then
followed them to this place. Oddly, there didn’t seem to be an elaborate
security system like at the Lycan compound. She guessed when you were the
hunters, you didn’t need one.

Dozens
of old cars and vintage motorcycles lined the perimeter of the rustic stone
structure. Not a soul stirred. The sun had set a half hour before. She’d
watched since then, hoping to catch a glimpse of Edward. He was here, his scent
dominant.

She
had no more of a plan now than she had when she’d run from the compound. How
could she get answers then walk away a free woman? Promise Edward something? He
would want nothing less than Rafael.

The
wide iron-strapped wooden door to the building swung open. She ducked behind
the dilapidated car she had driven down in. When a man stepped out and abruptly
stopped and turned her way, she ducked deeper. Holding her breath, Falon peered
at him through the windows. Edward. And he was not alone. Lana! Collared and on
a leash, she cowered beside him. So that was how Edward knew what she had done
to Lucien. She was partially clad and looked more than a little roughed up. Her
head lifted in the slight breeze, and she, too, turned toward where Falon hid.
Damn it, the wind had shifted, and she was now upwind of them. She backed up,
hunching down until her knees creaked.

“Do
not be afraid,” Edward called, his deep voice reverberating off the cars. As he
moved toward her, Falon moved stealthily around the cars, putting distance
between them. “I will not harm you.” The hair on the back of her neck stood on
end. His soothing baritone lulled deceptively. “Come out, tell me why you are
here. Who are you?” he cajoled.

Falon
felt the pull of his voice. She nearly stood. While she didn’t trust him, she
felt on a gut level that he was as intrigued by her as she was by him. But he
had her at a disadvantage. She was at his lair with everything to lose, and he
had everything to gain. She smiled wryly. If Edward thought he could use her to
draw Rafael out, the joke would be on him. The last thing Rafael would do was
put himself or his pack in danger for her safety. Her stock had dropped
suddenly and dramatically, thanks to Lucien.

So,
what did she have to lose at the moment? Maybe a day or two of a forced stay
until Edward figured out Rafael would rather hand her over to the Slayers than
lift a finger to save her? She’d take her chances.

Slowly,
like the phoenix rising, Falon stood. She startled in surprise to find Edward
standing on the other side of the hood of the car she hid behind. He was as
tall as Rafael was, but blond, blue-eyed, and pale-skinned. She’d consider him
a handsome man if she didn’t know the truth about him. He smiled a wide, disarming
smile. Yet his eyes glittered malevolently. Falon’s nostrils flared as she
inhaled his scent. The blood of the Lycan nation screamed out for vengeance.
She stiffened.

“She
is Rafael’s bitch!” Lana accused, scrambling up behind Edward. Without looking
behind him, he threw out his left arm and hit her in the chest with his fist.
Lana landed with a sickening thud on the asphalt. Instinctively, Falon moved
toward her. Edward stuck his hand out, palm open, like a stop sign.

“She
is not worth your attention.”

Falon
slapped his hand away and gloated inwardly at his shocked expression. She bet
most people, women especially, didn’t defy him. Falon dropped down beside Lana.
Blood pooled behind her head; her dazed brown eyes looked up at Falon.

“I’m
sorry,” she mumbled.

Falon
shushed her, gently rolled her head into her open hand, and pressed her
fingertips to the gaping hole in the back of her skull. Energy warmed her
chest, reverberating into her shoulder, down her arm, into her hand and
fingertips. Lana closed her eyes. “You’ll be okay,” Falon whispered, before
carefully setting her head down on the concrete. “Do not move,” Falon
instructed, then stood, wiping her bloody hand on her jeans. Lana would heal
shortly.

She
turned to Edward and demanded, “How are we associated?”

His
lips thinned as his gaze scalded her from head to toe. “You are a healer?”

She
shrugged. “I know how to use a Band-Aid.”

He
reached down and yanked Lana up to him, grabbed a hank of her hair, then
twisted her neck around so that the back of her head was exposed. Lana squeezed
her eyes shut, biting her bottom lip. Instinctually Falon understood: Edward
was a sadist. He thrived on pain. Lycan pain. Lana didn’t give him the
satisfaction of showing hers.

“Do
you always pick on women?” Falon demanded, wondering how long they were going
to stand out in the parking lot challenging each other.

Edward
shoved Lana from him, then yanked back on the leash, jerking her backward. She
splayed out on all fours and began to cry. He sneered, then looked directly at
Falon. “She is Lycan. As such, she does not deserve my respect.”

“Then
why bother at all?”

He
threw is head back and laughed. “You are not an ignorant woman. You know the
power I wield, and yet you challenge me?”

“I
challenge any man who treats another being with such contempt.”

He
shook his head. “Come inside, my dear champion of the world, come see what
Lycans have done to my people; then tell me how you feel.”

When
Falon crossed the threshold into the fortress, she felt like she had walked
into the thirteenth century. The interior of the building was what she imagined
an English castle to be. Flaming sconces adorned thick block walls. Between the
sconces hung rich tapestries, each one depicting battles scenes. Slayers versus
Lycans. And piled along the walls were towering heaps of . . . ? Wolf pelts. At
that moment she was grateful she had not eaten. Her stomach did several
somersaults, yet she managed to maintain her composure and continue to observe
her surroundings.

Long
trestle tables and rushes covered the floor. A huge walk-in hearth blazed with
fire; several spits rotated large hunks of roasting meat. At the far end of the
hall, a dais with two large carved thrones was prominently displayed. On either
side of the thrones was a large, square iron cage, both of them empty. Falon
didn’t need anyone to tell her what the cages were for. Edward handed the leash
over to a burly man, who dragged Lana kicking and screaming to the cage on the
left. He shoved her in, kicking her in the behind for good measure. The door
clanked shut, and the brute turned a skeleton key in the lock.

Contempt
sprang into Falon’s next words, “I assumed since you were human you would be
civilized. I was wrong.”

“There
is no civility between my people and Lycans.” He looked down at her and
menacingly said, “On any other day, you would be in the cage next to her. You
have cavorted with Lycans!” His voice lowered, and he stepped closer. “The only
reason you are not is because you are a human who, for the moment, intrigues
me.”

“What
of those of mixed blood?” she asked.

He
threw his head back and laughed an ugly, demonic laugh. “Do you mean Lycan and
Slayer?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Preposterous!
A Slayer would never stoop so low as to bed a dog. It is forbidden, not even
discussed!”

“So
you’re saying there has never been a coupling between a Slayer and Lycan.”

“Blasphemy!
Speak of it again and lose your tongue!” he raged.

Falon
blanched at his outrage, yet her mind whirled with thoughts. Did Edward not know
that Lucien’s chosen one had been a Slayer? Was he in denial? Or had Rafael
been wrong? Had he killed an innocent woman? Dear God, what if he had?

“My
apologies, Edward.” She forced herself to touch him by placing her hand on his
arm. She blanched at the malevolence that swirled within him. He flung her hand
from him as if he knew she could see into his soul. She had made a colossal
mistake coming here. But she persevered; she would have her answers. “I am new
to your world, thus misunderstanding the dichotomy between Slayers and Lycans.”