Blood Law (19 page)

Taylor
nodded vigorously. “Anything you want is yours.”

Rafael
regarded Falon then Smythe. “My woman says the girl is alive. I want to see your
proof that she’s dead.”

Smythe
stammered for a moment then withdrew a manila envelope from his jacket pocket.
He handed it to Rafael. “The pictures and a CD arrived in the mail this
morning. She’s been missing for two days. If it was staged, the producer should
get an Academy Award.”

Rafael
pulled out one gory picture after another from the envelope. It showed the girl
strung up, then—he swallowed hard—dismembered. “Jesus,” he said.

Falon
moved as if she wanted to see the pictures. He shoved them back into the
envelope. “You don’t want to see them.”

“If
I’m going to help you find her, I need to see them.”

“No
one said you would be involved.”

“I
said.” She grabbed the envelope from his hand and pulled them out.

Anton
made a funny sound. When Rafael shot him a harsh glare, Anton stared at
something interesting on the ceiling.

Rafael
watched Falon’s smooth, honey-colored skin blanch white. Her hand shook, but
she maintained her composure. Quietly, she slipped them back into the envelope.
She looked at Taylor. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Taylor.”

“Are
they real?” he demanded.

“They
look real, but my gut is telling me she is alive.” She handed the envelope back
to Rafael.

He
withdrew the CD from the envelope. Without a word, he walked over to the
elaborate sound system and put it in a player, then pressed the Play button.
Terrifying high-pitched screams echoed in the room. Falon put her hands over
her ears, the heart-wrenching sounds too much to bear. Rafael stood rigid next
to her. Anton remained stoic beside Taylor, who looked like he was going to
collapse. Smythe tried to console him. After several minutes of the same
heart-wrenching sounds, Rafael hit the Stop button. “Is there more than that?
Any dialogue?”

“No,”
Smythe answered. “Just the buzz of the chainsaw and Ally’s screams.”

Rafe
took the CD from the player and slipped it back into the envelope. “Has there
been any demand?”

“No,”
Smythe answered, since Taylor was too traumatized to stand, much less talk. He
had collapsed into a chair. “Nothing.”

“Go
home, Mr. Taylor. Give me forty-eight hours, and I’ll either find your daughter
alive or the person responsible for her death.”

Smythe
helped Taylor up. Taylor moved slowly toward Rafael and took his hands into
his. Had he allowed him to, Taylor would have kissed them. But Rafe shook his
head and withdrew them. “Go home. I’ll take care of it.”

As
the men exited the building, Falon turned on him. “How could you make such a
promise?”

Rafael
smiled. “You don’t know me very well, my dear.”

“But
how can you be sure?”

Rafael’s
smile widened, and he did something that completely shocked him even as it felt
completely right. With the envelope in one hand, he extended his other to
Falon. “Let me help you upstairs so that you can clean up. Then I will show
you.”

As
Falon showered, Rafael stared out the window into the dark. He lifted the
envelope to his nose and deeply inhaled. A myriad of scents swirled around him.
He pulled out the pictures. Now, fewer scents. But more distinguishable. He
sniffed the CD and smiled. Fewer still.

He
felt the rush in his blood. Not simply because he’d soon be hunting but because
Falon would accompany him. Her powers were formidable, and her Slayer detector
honed. Would that each pack had a woman of Falon’s talents among them, many
lives would be saved. Smythe wasn’t the first Slayer to fool an alpha. Lucien’s
woman had done so with little effort. Rafe would give his right arm to know
where Falon came from, who her people were. He believed her when she said she
was an orphan. Did she have Amorak blood flowing through her veins? There were
few Amorak, and those of blended Lycan and Inuit blood that had the skill to
heal. He himself possessed great healing power given to him by his mother, who
was a direct descendant of the great mother Singarti. How did a human come by
the gift? And that thing she did when she was pissed, shooting off mental
lightning bolts? If she did not practice black magic, then how?

He
smiled when he recalled what she had done to Lucien. She may just give his
brother a run for his money. His smile tightened. She was too special for the
likes of Lucien. Destroying Falon would benefit no one but his brother’s
bloodlust for revenge.

Rafael
looked toward the bathroom door as it opened. His heart caught high in his
throat, and blood slammed straight down to his dick. She looked all sexy and
dewy wrapped in a big, fluffy towel. She scowled at him. “I don’t have any
clothes that will fit over this cursed cast.”

He
set the envelope down and sauntered toward her. He smiled. Couldn’t help
himself. He wanted to touch her. Run his hands down the soft, sultry skin of
her back to her ass. Feel her breasts push against his chest—

“I’ll
make a deal with you,” he said, his voice husky, making no mistake of his
desire.

She
cocked a suspicious brow.

“I
heal your ankle, and you promise not to run away.”

“I’ll
make a deal with you. I help you find the girl, and you let me go.”

He
respected that she didn’t beg for her life. Instead, she challenged him at
every turn, making it more difficult to deny her. Most women would be mewling
and frightened right now. But not Falon.

“Then
you stay here, while I find the girl,” he softly said, praying she would not
accept his command. He wanted her as his hunting partner tonight.

She
smiled then, a big, bright, sexy smile. She stepped into his space. Rising on
her toes, she pressed her lips to his but did not actually kiss him. His body
tightened as the furnace in his loins flared. “I don’t think so.” She backed away
and dropped the towel. She looked over her shoulder and threw him a slow
come-hither smile. His body jerked as if he dangled from the end of a rope. And
damned if she didn’t bat those long black lashes at him, and ask, “Since when
did I become your woman?”

His
entire body swelled with desire. He didn’t fight it. He was alpha; she was his,
damn it. Rafe growled and stepped to her. He touched her shoulders, his fingers
instantly reacting to the smooth heat of her skin. He traced his fingertips
across the concave of her shoulder and turned her around. His body tightened,
more blood slammed to his dick, and his lips dropped to the mark on her neck.
He nipped her. She gasped but did not pull away. He nipped her again, wanting
to throw her onto the bed and sink into her. Jesus. He felt her body loosen,
smelled her musky release. What had they been discussing? He closed his eyes
and inhaled her scent. It was potent. Hot. Irresistible. He forced his mind to
clear. “Since I marked you,” he growled in answer to her question. His hands
slid down her bare back to her ass just as he had imagined moments before. He
rose hard against her belly. She pressed against him. He hissed in a sharp
breath. “So long as you live, Falon, you belong to me. You can run, but you
can’t hide.” With every ounce of self-restraint he possessed, and very
reluctantly, he set her from him. “Do not forget it.”

She
stiffened against him. Anger reverberated between them. “What is the Blood Law?
What part do I play in it?”

Her
questions caught him off guard. They shouldn’t have. Of course she wanted
answers. “For any organization or civilization to thrive and coexist, there
must be a code of conduct and rules by which they are governed. My group is
governed by the Blood Law.”

“Why
does your brother have the right to take my life?”

Guilt
stabbed at him. “He doesn’t.” It was true. “However, the council of elders, our
governing body, doesn’t agree.”

“Then
why do you act as if he does?”

Rafe
raked his fingers through his hair, not wanting to have this conversation now.
Not ever. He could not sway the council, though he had tried. His frustration
with them reached a new high. It was not just what they demanded of him.

“It’s
complicated.”

“Complicated?”
she shrilled. “You hold my life in your hands, and all you can tell me is, it’s
complicated?” He stood quiet, unable to defend himself.

“I
don’t want to die. I will not die because of your Blood Law. If that messes
with your day, too damn bad.”

She
grabbed the towel from the floor, her ass brushing against his cock. Rafe
swallowed hard. And was grateful when she huffed back into the bathroom,
slamming the door behind her.

He
let out a long breath and jammed his fingers through his hair again. What was
he supposed to say to her? How could he justify her death when he knew with a
certainty it was Lucien who should have paid the penalty, not he! Perhaps he
should let her escape. Aid her. Cover her scent and hope Lucien did not find
her. He was torn in half. There was so much more at stake than one life. He
shook his head, forcing that part of his future from his thoughts. The here and
now was what was important. Tonight he would hunt. “The clock is ticking. We
need to go!” he called after her.

Several
minutes later, Falon emerged, dressed in the fresh clothes he had instructed
one of the beta females to purchase that day. She looked hot in the tight black
jeans, even with one pant leg rolled up above her cast. The form-fitting blue
jersey shirt matched her eyes perfectly. She could only wear one of the black
leather boots. He imagined her in thigh-high stiletto boots. And nothing else.
His dick lengthened again. Damn. He wanted her in the worst way. Right there,
right then. Whether she wanted it or not.

He
grabbed the envelope before he did something she’d never forgive him for and
extended his hand. “Come.”

FALON
CHOSE TO put their conversation aside for the moment. Not because she needed
Rafael to save her. Thank you very much, she would save herself. Her newfound
powers gave her a confidence she had never experienced. She should have
embraced her differences years ago. It would have saved her so much misery. But
here, with Rafael, she wasn’t shunned. Instead, he embraced her differences; he
was the catalyst to their fruition. Maybe she and he were more alike than
different. For those reasons alone she didn’t pursue their conversation. It
wasn’t like he would indulge her with answers anyway. More importantly, she had
a life to save.

She
looked at his strong outstretched hand, well aware of the power held within.
Separated from him she was not her most powerful. She slid her hand into his.
Warm energy thrummed from his body into hers. United, they would be a
formidable force. She looked up at him and saw that he, too, understood the
potency of their union. When his fingers possessively entwined with hers, Falon
followed him out the door.

As if
a lightning storm followed overhead, energy snapped and crackled around them.
Falon was beyond excited, beyond curious at what the night would hold, and more
than anything, beyond fascinated.

Rafael
fascinated her. The way he walked as if he owned the world. The way everyone
respected him. The compound and its inhabitants fascinated her, and her primal
reaction to him each time he touched her fascinated her.

It
terrified her, too. While she would escape this place, part of her understood
that what was driving Rafael was his honor—an honor that demanded he follow
some ridiculous law, even if he didn’t want to.

What
also fascinated Falon was her emerging personality and strength. Who knew? She
had always hidden. Done everything in her power to stay below the radar. She
had taught herself how to blend in so seamlessly she didn’t appear to be
anything but an innocuous blip. Around Rafael, she felt alive for the first
time in her life. Parts of her she hadn’t even known existed had emerged. With
a vengeance. Least of all her primal sexual awareness. She didn’t need to read
the headlines to tell her Rafe felt her pull as much as she felt his.

When
he had called her “my woman” in front of Anton, she’d been shocked, but in a
cavewoman way, she’d also been pleased. Her body trilled when she thought of
his big powerful body claiming hers. Her nipples tightened, her breathing
became labored, she was wet—