Blood Law (31 page)

He
was so blasé about it. Not one shred of remorse. No wonder Rafe couldn’t wait
to chop off this guy’s head. She might beat him to it.

Edward
looked past her shoulder and motioned for someone to approach. Falon turned to
see several large broadsword-armed men walk toward them. Her heart almost
jumped out of her chest.

“You
have nothing to fear from me, Falon, or anyone here,” Edward said. “I can
protect you from both brothers. If you will allow me to.”

Because
she was human, he’d said, and that was it. Right. Falon coolly regarded him. He
was not offering anything for free. “My ability to pick a Slayer out of the
crowd when a Lycan alpha can’t doesn’t have anything to do with your
invitation, does it?”

His
eyes glittered with excitement. He nodded. “Among other things.”

“I’ll
take a rain check. I’m not going to be your worm on a hook. Besides, I have
unfinished business with both brothers. You’ll have to find someone else to use
as bait.”

His
face drew tight, his lips thinned, his eyes darkened. “Whatever that business
is,” he snapped, “let it go. If you step outside of this building while either
brother is alive, you are as good as dead.”

“Thanks
for caring,” Falon flippantly said. Nervously she smoothed her hands down the
front of her jeans. “I’ll take my chances.”

“I’m afraid,
Falon Corbet, that I cannot allow you to leave at the moment,” Edward said,
standing.

“I
had a feeling you were going to say that. But I really do insist on leaving.”
Imperceptibly, he nodded to the men who had gathered close behind her, forming
a semicircle. Trapped like a rabbit in a snare. She had only one way to go,
into the stone wall. Or . . . Immediately she shut down the fear that flashed
like a sputtering neon sign and focused on extracting herself from her
stupidity.

She
leapt straight up into the air, stomping on Edward’s head and using it to
propel herself higher. She did a high backflip and landed behind the goons and
Edward. He turned slowly, smugly, his confidence unflappable. “Very impressive.
If I did not know better, I would say you were a highly trained Slayer.”

In a
blur he jumped high in the air. As he came down to land in front of her, Falon
focused every brain cell in her head on shoving him back into the thugs who
closed menacingly in on her. Just as Edward’s feet touched the floor, his body
slammed backward into the wall, unhinging a corner of the tapestry of the
Slayer with the ring. Falon didn’t waste any time to gloat. She leapt toward
the thick wood door and hit it feetfirst. It splintered into a dozen pieces as
she tumbled out of the building. As she mentally slowed the velocity of her
fall, she pushed off the steps, continuing her high leaps. A large hand grabbed
her right ankle and yanked hard. She went hurtling backward onto the stone
steps that led to the fortress. She hit with such velocity, the sound of
cracking bones overrode her painful cries.

“You
will never best me, Falon Corbet,” Edward said as he yanked her up and threw
her damaged body over his shoulder. He pushed what was left of the door out of
the way with a flick of his hand. Incredibly, as if they were whole, they
slammed shut behind them, the thick steel bars slamming into place.

She
was a prisoner.

PACK
VULKASIN MADE good time to Oakland. It was a ride Rafe had made one hundred
times, and each time he’d added a kill notch to his belt. Tonight he would add
more.

The
night air was cool in his hair, and Falon’s scent messed with him the entire
ride down the mountain, onto the Sacramento flats and along the salty breeze of
the bay. Each time his heart ached for her, he forced the emotion aside. He
refused to think of her as anything less than an enemy of the state. Even if he
gave her the benefit of the doubt—perhaps Lucien had tricked her?—her flight
into the enemy’s arms destroyed it.

But
his love could not save her.

He
shook the emotions from his heart and soul. Like the exhaust fumes from the
chopper, they evaporated into the night air. He was not destined to live with
his true love. He was destined now to choose a second mate that would be best
for his pack, not his heart. Never again his heart. He and Lucien lived by the
same curse. Neither brother would have their true chosen one beside them.

As
many alphas before him had done, Rafael would sacrifice his own desires to do
what was required to keep the pack safe and thriving. That he had put his own
selfishness before the pack’s well-being gnawed at him. Could he help that he
was not a cold-blooded murderer? Could he really condemn himself for failing to
take a mate, when doing so would be handing her a death sentence? On the other
hand, hadn’t he acted quickly and without remorse, killing Lucien’s mate when
it was the best thing for the clan?

He
should have immediately chosen a mate, made the sacrifice, and moved on. But
the injustice of it all prevented it. He had obeyed the Blood Law, damn it!
Rafe clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground. What was done was done, and now
he must see the rest through.

It
would eat him alive if he dwelled on the right and wrong of it. He must focus
on the task in front of him. Capture Falon. Destroy Edward.

With
Balor back East drumming up soldiers for the rising, Edward would not have
reinforcements. But Rafe did.

He
glanced behind himself and nodded. Pack Ruiz joined them in Vallejo, pack
Casares pulled up behind them as they screamed through Richmond. Clan Corbet
was strong, well-armed, and had a very defendable fortress, but Rafe had the
element of surprise, the benefit of numbers, and the full moon on his side.

He
glanced up at the rising moon. By midnight it would be at its highest for this
cycle. Rafael, too, would be at his peak strength. The timing was in the
Lycans’ favor tonight. It was a rare full moon when a Lycan fell beneath a
Slayer’s sword.

As
the packs approached the off-ramp to the road that would wind high up into the
hills, Rafael slowed, allowing the bikes to condense. They swarmed off the
highway onto a wide boulevard, blowing through one red light after another. Not
a cop in sight. They would be noticeably scarce for the rest of the
evening—Rafe’s call to Taylor had insured it. The man was connected. Calling
off the cops in advance would make what Rafe had to do go that much smoother.

Falon’s
scent intensified. Overriding her fresh natural scent was the pungent smell of
fear. He growled, wrangling with his instinct to protect her. In his mind, he
heard her calling to him for help. To come for her. Begging for forgiveness,
for something she had no control over. But more urgent was her warning that
Corbet was waiting and to stay away. He clamped his jaw so tight it threatened
to snap.

Once
again his gut told him he had overreacted when he woke that morning, that she
was an innocent in a deadly game to which she didn’t know the rules. That he
was too quick to a temper when it involved Lucien, and he’d let his emotions
overrule his reason. The very least he should have done was to hear what she
had to say. Instead, he assumed the worst.

He
closed his mind and his heart to her pleas and warnings. He would not soften.

Rafael
turned off the main road to a less traveled one and began his ascent into the
foothills. After a few miles, he slowed then came to a complete stop. The packs
swarmed around him. He cut his engine and motioned for them to do the same.
When nothing but the distant traffic could be heard, he said, “In an eighth of
a mile we’re going to turn off onto a dirt road. We’ll dismount, shift, and
surround the fortress.” He looked over to Amon, his armorer, who pulled up
behind them in a blacked-out van. “I was not going to use them until the
rising, but we’ll need them tonight if we’re to survive until then.” He looked
over at the van. “Amon has flack jackets and thick, leather studded collars
made especially for Lycans. Half of us will shift and we’ll outfit them. Once
that’s done, the rest of you will shift and Amon will outfit you.”

Amon
slid open the panel door to reveal stacks of flack jackets.

“The
collars will help prevent beheading, and the jackets will stop most caliber
silver bullets. Do not shift back to your human form unless I give the command.
We’ll form a wide noose around the fortress and slowly draw it tight. Under no
circumstances can any harm come to”—a rise of emotion caught in Rafael’s
throat—“my chosen one. Tomorrow night I will deliver her to Lucien, and the
Blood Law will be avenged.”

Collective
sounds of surprise rippled through the packs, followed by knowing yet
sympathetic nods. They knew, as he did, it must be done.

“When
we have the fortress in sight, I will shift and find a way to breach the
structure. Once I locate the woman, if there is a way for me to extract her
without a full-out assault, I will choose that route.

“Once
she is extracted, we’ll go in and do what is necessary.” He looked across the
sea of determined faces. Their days of being the hunted were coming to an end.
Tonight Edward, tomorrow Balor. Rafe’s only regret was that the man who slew
his parents, Thomas Corbet, was nowhere to be found. For that Slayer he would
be extra specially vicious.

Rafael
lifted his nose to the air and inhaled. The scent of Slayers was strong. His
blood quickened.

At
heart, he was a predator. They all were. It was how they’d survived, but their
humanity had tempered much of it. Wolves in the wild did not kill for the sake
of killing; they killed to survive. That it thrilled was a by-product. Rafael
and his people were no different. Yes, there were those like his brother who
lived to kill. His pack was bloodthirsty and untrustworthy. Pack Vulkasin was
more civilized. And it had cost him, Rafe realized. If their positions were
reversed, Lucien would not have hesitated to take a mate so that Rafael would
avenge the Blood Law. Once done, Lucien would have chosen another and begun to
build his dynasty. Rafael had stumbled by not wanting to have a hand in killing
an innocent. Everyone he cared for had suffered for it. It was what separated
him from his brother. Rafael valued life and was compassionate. And maybe, too,
there was a part of him that wanted Lucien to suffer more. He failed to admit
his woman was a Slayer. And so Lucien lived while Rafael would have to
sacrifice an innocent.

“Do
not spare one Slayer life tonight,” Rafe said. “Each one you take is one less
we will battle in the coming months, and one less threat to the Lycan nation.”
He looked over at Amon, who nodded. “Pack Vulkasin and pack Ruiz, shift.”

Less
than thirty minutes later, Rafael sat upon the slanted roof of the northern
wing of Corbet Keep. Falon’s scent cried out to him for rescue. His anger
flared at her stupidity. What did she think Corbet would do when she approached
him? Welcome her with open arms? She was marked by the most powerful alpha in
North America. Corbet would never allow her to leave. The only reason she lived
now was because Corbet had known even before Rafael had that he would come for
her.

He
had no choice, just as Sharia had said.

He
slid a heavy smoke vent aside and peered down into the bowels of the hall.
Immediately his gaze trained on the two metal cages. His nose twitched. Lana!
He realized she’d betrayed them all by giving Corbet the heads-up on Falon. Now
she paid the price. As much as he despised her treachery, he would not leave
her here for the Slayers to rip apart. He would bring her home where her pack
would exact their justice.

His
eyes traveled across the ridiculous thrones to the other cage. A small
pelt-covered lump lay balled up in the corner. His heart thudded in his chest.

Falon.

Her
head snapped back. She looked up. Their gazes locked. The longing in her eyes
tore him in half.

Rafa,
you came!

I
came for my pack. You belong to my brother now.

She
sat up. Grabbing the metal bars, she winced in pain as she tilted her head all
of the way back so that she could fully see him. No, Rafa! I am your chosen
one. I would never willingly go to your brother.

You
already have.

She
stifled a cry. Lucien tricked me. He came to me in my dreams. I thought it was
you, but he never, we never—there was no consummation, Rafael, I swear it!

Did
Corbet trick you, too?

“No.”
She stared up at him, grasping the metal bars as if she could pull them apart. I
came here for answers. I realize now it was foolish!

Silence!

But
it was too late. Corbet materialized beside Falon. He grabbed her hair and
yanked her head hard against the metal bars. Falon snarled and grabbed him,
digging her nails into his skin, shredding him. Corbet shoved her away and
looked at his bloody hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a
bloodthirsty Lycan bitch.” He looked up at Rafael, who leashed his primal urge
to drop on Corbet and tear him apart.

“You
came as expected, Vulkasin, the full moon and all,” Corbet sneered. Armed
Slayers stacked up behind him.

When
I drop to the floor, use your powers to blow the front door off its hinges,
Rafael instructed Falon.