Blood Law (24 page)

Slayers
were smart, but he was smarter. Slayers killed because of an
eight-hundred-year-old command by a long-dead king. Lycans killed to survive
and to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. Tonight, he would avenge hundreds
of slain Lycans, including his own mother and father.

He
looked up at the ceiling two stories high to several heavy looped metal chains
hanging from a swing arm mounted from a thick steel beam. He leapt straight up,
grabbing onto a thick, blunt hook looped over the swing arm. He shoved the hook
up, freeing it. Securing his right foot in the bend of the hook and wrapping
the chain around his calf for leverage, Rafael did a free fall. In a wide,
forceful swath, he swung down with both swords drawn, hacking at the rush of
Slayers. Bullets zinged past him as the Slayers opened fire, several hitting
his vest but not penetrating. As he came in for his first hard hit, he took
several Slayers out. As the swing reached its full rotation, he unwound his leg
from the chains and leapt onto the bottom of the east ramp that led to the
platform, then bounded onto the platform where the girl stood screaming bloody
murder.

He
swung his blade to cut the rope attached to the noose, but heat seared his
hand, forcing him to release his sword instead. He swung his left-hand sword
around, and it, too, was shot from his hand. Rafael roared in fury and turned.
His gaze clashed with Edward’s. The Slayer held a .44 nickel-plated Magnum
aimed directly at Rafael’s heart.

“Take
your best shot, Slayer. It’s the only one you’ll get,” Rafael snarled.

The
loud rev of chopper engines rose above the din of battle. Familiar but not
friendlies. Vipers.

And
right on the heels of the Vipers’ revving engines came the sweet sound of sure
death—the death of Edward and his Slayers! Rafael grinned. Pack Ruiz. The
cavalry had arrived. It was going to be a banner day.

In a
high backward somersault, he leapt over the backside of the platform and
retrieved his swords. He jumped back onto the platform. Raising them above his
head in an intricate pattern, he maneuvered them until they flew in perfect
circular symmetry like the propeller of an airplane, producing a whirlwind.
Keeping the deadly rotation going, he walked to the edge of the platform then
hopped to the floor and walked toward the Slayers and their bullets, the force
of the air disturbance from his swords so great he pushed all of them backward
into the far wall. The Berserkers who flanked him went in for the kill. It was
not pretty, what they did, but the Slayers deserved no less. Several of them
leapt high into the air to escape but crashed backward into the wall from the
velocity of the whirlwind.

Thick
smoke began to infiltrate the building. An evasive tactic by the Slayers. But
Rafael could see through smoke. The Vipers swung left and right, swarming in
behind him. They were led by a broadsword-wielding Edward, who rode a Vulkasin
chopper.

Rafe
leapt into the air after him. Edward jumped off the bike and onto the platform,
going straight for the girl. Angel’s men descended on the Vipers, while Rafe’s
continued to systematically eliminate Slayers. Rafe went after Corbet.

Edward
dropped down in front of the girl. He grabbed the rope that held the noose
around her neck and placed the edge of his sword to her throat. “Come a step
closer, Lycan, and she dies,” Edward taunted.

Rafael
sneered. “You overestimated my affection for the girl. I came for you. She just
led me here.”

Edward
laughed, ignoring the havoc going on around them both. Flames eating up the
walls, gunfire and swordplay. The sounds of men dying.

“I
heard different. I heard you have a telepath in your midst. I heard she
possesses the power to bring your brother to heel.” Edward jerked the noose,
causing the girl to scream. “A trade. My girl for yours.”

Rafael’s
fury soared. How did Corbet know of Falon? Smythe knew about the telepath part,
but who in his pack had betrayed him and told him about Falon’s disabling of
Lucien? Who would dare? “Telepath she may be, but then so is Talia and several
others. But with the power to disable Lucien? Someone has been spoon-feeding
you bullshit.” Rafael stepped closer. “Even if it were true, she bears the mark
of the alpha. She is not a commodity to be bartered.”

Edward
pulled the trembling girl back against his chest. His blade dug into her tender
skin. Blood dripped in slow rivulets onto the steel. “So be it, Lycan.”

“You
looking for me, douche bag?”

Rafael
turned, stunned at Falon’s voice. He moved to grab her, protect her.
Vehemently, she waved him off. He looked back to Corbet, who looked as stunned
as Rafael, but for different reasons. Corbet blanched white, as if he saw a
ghost.

Falon
sidled alongside Rafael and hoarsely whispered, “My left hand is broken; can
you do your voodoo and fix me up so I can help you out here?”

Without
breaking his stare at Corbet, who continued to gape at Falon, Rafe handed her
one of his swords and gently wrapped his fingers around her broken hand. The
fighting abruptly stopped. The only sound, the harsh intake of breaths and the
rush of exhales. Blood mingled with death, clogging the air.

HEALING
WARMTH INFUSED Falon’s broken bones. She and the man threatening the girl
couldn’t stop staring at one another. There was something disturbingly familiar
about him. Instinctively she knew he was bad news.

When
Rafael’s healing warmth subsided, she flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist.
Good as new. She kept his sword. She pointed it at the man on the platform.
“Have we met?”

His
eyes narrowed. He shifted his feet. She felt more than heard movement behind
her. She turned just as Rafael did. A swarm of bodies rushed them, and the
fight was on again.

Instead
of turning to fight, Falon rushed the platform. Her intent had been to aid
Rafael, but he was a big boy and could take care of himself. The girl needed
her.

The
Slayer with his sword to the girl’s neck had bigger fish to fry: Angor. The
beast attacked the Slayer.

And
to Falon’s astonishment, the Slayer held his own. How he did and still lived
was a miracle. The man was good. An expert swordsman. As good as Rafael. Maybe
better. As she reached the top step, the Slayer rammed his blade clear through
Angor’s mighty chest. The beast howled in pain, writhing against the steel. The
Slayer shoved it deeper into the beast. It fell to its knees then dropped to
the planks.

The
Slayer yanked his sword from the matted bloody fur and pointed it at Falon.
“Seize her,” he commanded. Several other men stopped their attacks on Rafael’s
men and hurried toward her.

Falon
leapt over them as they came at her. Above her, Rafael swooped down from the
ceiling chain and neatly cut down two of them. Falon choked back a cry as warm
blood sprayed across her face. The girl screamed behind her. Falon turned to
see the Slayer who had her yank hard on the drop floor lever.

The
girl’s body plummeted downward, her strangled screams cut off from the yank of
the noose. Falon hurled her sword, but Rafael was faster. His sword flew hilt
over point toward the girl and just as the velocity of her body would have
pulled the noose completely closed and snapped her neck, the blade severed the
rope she hung from. She dropped to the floor, hitting it with a dull thud. Falon
ran to her while Rafael went after the prick who had tried to kill her.

Falon
knelt beside the motionless body so close to Angor’s. His blood pooled slowly
around them. She pulled the hood off the girl and pressed her hand to her
chest. Though faint, her heart beat a steady thud. Compelled by something she
could not explain, Falon turned to Rafael’s prized Berserker. The same one that
had tried to kill her. The same one who nearly did. She crawled to him on her
hands and knees, slipping in the sticky blood. Without hesitation, she placed
her fingers into the deep wound, and pressed her other hand over it.

“C’mon
on, you brute,” she whispered. “Find the will to survive.”

She
felt the slice to his artery with her fingertip. She pressed more firmly into
his chest and called upon a greater power than her own to repair the damage.
Her body thrummed with warmth—entering through her head then tracking down to
her neck and shoulders and into her arms and fingertips. Into Angor. His heart
shuddered then beat once. Then a second time and a third. He stirred. His big
red eyes opened. His heartbeat picked up a steady rhythm. Thump-thump,
thump-thump, thump-thump.

Falon
smiled. The beast snarled, his fangs bared. Falon sat back on her heels. So
much for being grateful. Big sweaty hands grabbed her.

Falon
twisted around and found herself seized by three of the dirty bikers that had
come in and fought beside the Slayers. She screamed and kicked at them,
wondering where Rafael was. She looked across to the platform to see him
chained to the gallows post.

What
happened? How?

He’d
been captured and chained?

How
could that be?

He
was stronger. Smarter. His eyes flashed red as she caught his gaze. “Rafael!”
she screamed as she was dragged toward the front of the burning building. The
thugs jerked her hard, turning her around. Violently, she twisted until she
could see Rafael again. “Rafael!” she screamed. “Rafael!” Several Slayers at
very close range pointed their guns at his heart. They were going to kill him!
“No!” she screamed.

Crazed
fury possessed her. Her body tightened. Blood pounded in her ears.

Standing
beneath the great weight of the chains, Rafael roared furiously. Red eyes
flashed. As she strained to get to him, his body jerked and contorted. His
human roar morphed into something primal. Animal. Falon screamed in shock and
horror as he dropped to all fours and in less than a heartbeat turned into the
big golden wolf that had been protecting her when Rafael was gone. The chains
fell from his body. He snarled and lunged toward her.

A
staccato of shots rang out. His furry body twitched as bullets ripped into him.
“Rafael!” she screamed, reaching out for him. Shock waves slammed into Falon.
Rage infused her. Fear of losing Rafe tore her in half. Her vision clouded red.
Her bones cracked, her skin tightened. Her body felt as if it were tearing
apart at the seams. She shoved at the hands that held her captive, but it was
not enough.

She
screamed again, her voice raw, sounding like Rafael’s primal roar.

His
big body slammed into them. Falon went spinning on her back across the concrete
floor and into Anton’s arms while the bikers scrambled to get out of the wolf’s
way. Head down, the great beast stalked his prey.

“Destroy
him!” Edward yelled as he mounted a chopper. The bastard was going to take off
like the coward he was.

Falon
flung Anton’s big arms from her as Rafael annihilated the three bikers. Despite
her cast, she ran after the Slayer as he throttled his bike toward the back of
the burning building. Smoke clogged her lungs, but she continued forward,
ignoring the calls for her to stop. All she could see was a red target on the
Slayer’s back. The smoke thickened, and her lungs ached as she tried to draw in
clean breaths. Her pace slowed. She stumbled. Her eyes burned. Her heart
thudded like a freight train in her chest. She fell to her knees and was caught
by strong arms.

“Falon,”
Rafael breathed, pulling her close to his bare chest. “You’re going to get
yourself killed.”

Falon
looked up into his blazing turquoise eyes and said, “Like you care.”

His
fierce face froze; his eyes searched hers then softened. “I care, damn it,” he
growled.

So
did she. She opened her mouth to tell him, but the velocity of an explosion
shoved her harder into his arms, the percussion of it deafening. Fiery shards
of the building rained down upon them as Rafael shielded her and called to his
men to get out. It was the last thing she heard before her world went dark.

FALON
WOKE TO wild laughter, lurid female screams, and the hard cadence of rock and
roll.

Slowly
she sat up. It was still dark, but the gray fingers of dawn were just tinting
the night’s dark a shade lighter. She was in Rafe’s room. How? They had been
hours from here. She realized she was naked and that her cast was gone. She
wiggled her toes and rotated her ankle. No pain.

In a
wild, mad rush, the evening’s events slammed into her. The blood, the gore, the
girl, but predominant was the vision of Rafael when he turned into a wolf!

The
big blond wolf!

Since
the night she’d met Conan, her life had become a Halloween classic. None of it
made sense. Yet all of it fell into place. She was different. Rafael was
different, and in their differences, they were somehow connected. She’d known
it but ignored it, because all of it terrified her.

Falon
hurried to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and put on the fresh pair of
black jeans and skimpy black half top left for her. She strode to the door,
intending to get to the bottom of all of this. This—whatever this was. She’d
get her answers, and then she’d get the hell out of Dodge!

She
pushed open the door and was hit with a cacophony of sound and sex smells. A
hard shot of desire zapped her right between the legs. Her nipples hardened. She
shook her head, fighting off the overpowering urge for sex. Not just sex, mating
sex.