Bloodright (12 page)

“I’m so sorry,
precioso.
I told Darius I wanted only the sergeant at arms. I did not mean the
position
, I meant I wanted
you
!”

Joachim raised his glazed eyes to the girl and tried to smile. It came across as a grimace. “Do you still want me? A three-legged wolf?”

With a sob, she dropped to her knees before him and grabbed his only hand. “I want whatever part you are willing to share.” She touched his cheek and smiled. “It’s always been you, all of you, part of you, I don’t care. Just don’t change.”

A week ago, Lucien would not have understood such unconditional love between a man and a woman. A mother and child, yes. But this? If Joachim could not find a way to use his disability to his advantage, he would be ostracized and relegated to socialize with the omegas of the pack. Would Lise want him then?

Lucien’s gaze rose past Joachim to Falon, who stood quietly watching him. The tightness in his gut intensified. He would give his own right arm to have Falon show the kind of affection for him that Lise showed Joachim.

“Don’t move, Joachim,” Talia said, breaking Lucien’s spell. “The tourniquet isn’t working; you’re still losing blood too fast. I’m going to have to cauterize the main artery before I can heal you.” Talia hurried from the room to the kitchen where the hearth fire burned hot.

Joachim’s face paled considerably, not, Lucien knew, from what Talia said she must do, but because of the blood loss. Lucien gently nudged Lise to the side and picked up Joachim’s stump, raising it above the man’s head. “Steady, brother. The tourniquet is helping. Stay calm and breathe evenly or you’re going to bleed out and poor little Lise is going to cry.”

The pack chuckled but there was no mirth behind it.

Losing Darius was going to hurt. He was one of the strongest men Lucien had the pleasure of knowing, a proud Mondragon. His Slayer kill count was nearly as high as Lucien’s. He had not intended to kill him, punish him for his initial defiance, yes, but when Darius purposely, after being commanded to release Joachim, maimed him, Lucien knew if he allowed Darius to live, he would become a cancer in the pack.

But losing Joachim would have been devastating. His sergeant at arms had been with him since the day the pack split, never once wavering in his allegiance to Lucien.

Joachim grimaced through his pain and held up his good arm. “At least it wasn’t my right arm.” He reached out with it and swept the startled Lisette into his embrace. “And I still have my most important arm!” He pulled her down onto his bare lap and forced a lopsided grin. “I won’t let you down, Lise, I promise.”

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “Trust me, I will never let you
go
down!”

Lucien smiled. Perhaps with the love of this woman, the one-armed Joachim would surprise them all and retain his position within the pack. For the sake of the pack, Lucien would do everything possible to make that happen.

His grip on Joachim’s stump tightened as Talia hurried back into the room holding a glowing red-hot knife in the air. “Look at me,
precioso
,” Lise whispered against Joachim’s lips. She kissed him just as Talia inserted the blade an inch into the bloody stump, then withdrew it, and as if she were icing a cupcake, she cauterized every milli-meter of his exposed flesh. Sweat poured off Joachim’s face, down his chest to his thighs. His lips were white tight, his hand fisted at Lisette’s back, but he did not move. Not even when Talia stood back and the scent of burned flesh thickened putridly around them. Joachim did not so much as flinch a muscle. Falon put her hand delicately to her face and coughed behind him, but the pack stood rigid and watchful. Joachim was a pack favorite. Like Lucien, he did not command anything he was not willing to do himself.

Lucien clasped him on the shoulder with his free hand, but his words were directed at Talia. “Have one of the betas prepare one of the guest rooms.”

“They are always ready, Lucien,” Talia said, not looking up as she inspected her handiwork.

Lucien looked down at his friend’s strained brown eyes. “Once you’re healed, we’ll have Hector make you the mother of all prosthetic hands.”

Joachim nodded, his skin fish-belly white and just as clammy. Lucien squatted down beside him, carefully continuing to hold up the stump, then gently put his shoulder beneath Joachim’s armpit and helped him to rise. Falon sprang into action and came around to Joachim’s good side, and wrapped his beefy arm around her shoulder. Lise placed a calming hand on his chest. Carefully they lifted him to standing, and moved him out of the great room, and then down the hall to one of the comfortable guest rooms. Here Joachim would be under Talia’s watchful eye, not stuck in the barracks.

As the big Lycan was laid back onto the mattress, he let out a long groaning breath and closed his eyes.

Lucien raised worried eyes to his cousin. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “The bleeding has slowed enough that I can work on him without fear he’ll bleed out.”

Boulder-sized relief rolled off Lucien’s shoulders. Fatigue replaced it. He was physically and emotionally wiped out. But he kept his mask of strength firmly in place. If he exuded anything less than total confidence, his pack would run in circles chasing their tails.

“Take care of him, Talia,” Lucien said. “If you need
anything
, do not hesitate to wake me.”

He grabbed Falon’s hand and withdrew from the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

He stopped just inside the hallway and looked down at her pale face. “You okay?”

She let out a long breath and nodded. “That was terrifying and amazing, Lucien. It all happened so fast, and you just—handled it.”

He smiled slowly not feeling any joy in destroying not only a formidable soldier but also a friend. “I had no other choice.”

She squeezed his hand. “I understand why you did what you had to do.”

“Do you?”

Vigorously she nodded. “Had you not acted when and how you did, you would have sent the message it was okay to ignore your command.”

“The price came too high tonight, Falon. Darius was a good man. But tonight, he could not control his beast. Lose control once, it becomes a habit.”

He tugged her arm and walked back to the common room where the scent of sex, blood, and burned flesh infused the heavy air. The pack moved restlessly about.

“I want your attention,” Lucien said quietly. The pack responded as if he had blasted it over a bullhorn. All movement stopped, every eye in the room, riveted on him. “You saw what happened to Darius. His beast got the better of him tonight. Either control your beast or the same will happen to any one of you who defies me or attacks another, regardless of reason, in wolf form. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Lucien,” the pack said as one.

He nodded and looked at Dax. “You will assume all of Darius’s duties and pick up the slack for Joachim until he is healed.”

Dax nodded, stepping forward. “I will not let you down, Lucien.”

“I don’t expect that you will, Dax. Joachim was to leave on an errand for me early tomorrow morning, but he cannot and since Darius is unavailable, I’m putting the chore in your hands.”

“I am ready,” the anxious Lycan said.

Lucien gauged the mood of the pack before he proceeded, looking for the slightest hint of negativity. There was none. Mondragon trusted their alpha and in so doing trusted his choices.

“Put together a hunting and gathering party.” Lucien smiled; the women were going to love this. “Eight male, two female.” His smile widened as the women swarmed Dax as if he were a rock star, begging to be chosen.

What the females lacked in strength they made up for in ferocity. It had been too long since he had allowed any of them to hunt. They were too valuable to the pack to risk in battle. But they had become restless and bored. It was time to let the girls out.

Dax all but wagged his tail, he was so excited. “The black van is loaded with the tools and weapons you’ll need, but take your swords; you’re going to need them,” Lucien said. “Prepare to depart by three a.m. You’re going shopping in Lodi. Balor has a new munitions supplier. A ’Nam vet by the name of Skeet Yoder. The old man fronts his arms business with a junkyard just on the Highway 99 edge of town. He has a dozen rotties and pits running the yard after hours. While they are a nonissue for us, he does have cameras everywhere. Via my computer, I’ve scheduled them to disarm at four a.m. You’ll be clear to access the rear of the property via the back gates. Once in, you’ll have plenty of time to get the lay of the land and take position. There are detailed maps and schematics of the property in the van.”

“Does he sleep on the property?” Dax asked.

“No, he usually comes in around nine, doesn’t open to the public until ten. But as a precaution, shift first and check it out. I know he has a big morning planned.”

Lucien smiled down at Falon, who raised questioning eyes to his. He turned back to Dax. “I hacked into Skeet’s computer last week and discovered there’s a scheduled pickup at eight tomorrow morning. Corbet is stocking up arms. You need to be set up no later than six. I want the guns, the cash, and the Slayers who show up put out of their misery. Tie the old man up until it’s all over, then let him go.”

Dax nodded.

“Any questions?” Lucien asked.

Dax looked behind him to the gauntlet of females who were just waiting to pounce, then back at Lucien. “How do I choose?”

Despite the pall that hung around them, Lucien laughed, shaking his head. Taking Falon’s hand into his, he started for the stairway. “That will be your first official act as captain of the night guard.”

The females squealed. “Ladies!” Dax shouted.

Lucien laughed louder, as Dax’s voice was drowned out by those of the demanding females.

As they slowly walked up the three flights of stairs, Lucien felt Falon’s desire to talk more about what just happened, but there was nothing to be said. What could be said that wasn’t already said? He opened the door and allowed her to walk through first. He followed her in and shut the door closed behind them.

“I’m going to jump in the shower, then I have some computer work to do,” Lucien said as he strode toward the bathroom door. He left her on the bed and went into the bathroom and took his second shower of the night. When he emerged a few minutes later, Falon lay feigning sleep. He smiled to himself and chucked the damp towel across the room and grabbed a fresh pair of shorts from his armoire, then settled at his desk.

Falon’s restless movements in bed distracted Lucien. His work was not progressing as it should. He was tired, horny, pissed off over the night’s events, and fighting a losing battle with the green-horned monster: jealousy. He wanted the kind of devotion from Falon that Lise had for Joachim. Like Falon had for his brother, damn it! The emotions made no logical sense to him. He did not care about love and devotion. He cared about loyalty and courage, strength and intelligence.

“Lucien?”

Her soft voice startled him from his thoughts. He stiffened, refusing to turn around and look at her. He knew what he would see, and he knew what the sight of her would do to his semi-erection.

“What?”

“Is it hard?”

He grinned. “It’s getting there.”

A pillow smacked him in the back of the head. He focused on the computer screen in front of him. He’d double- and triple-checked the camera shutdown at four a.m. He’d peeked back into Skeet’s computer to confirm the appointment with “Longshanks,” his code name for the Slayers. Lucien could be done for the night—if he wanted.

“I wasn’t finished with my question.”

He clicked open a spreadsheet to take his mind off the stiffness in his shorts. Hundreds of numbers popped up on the screen. He did not see any one of them. “I’m listening.”

“Being alpha, is it hard? Do you ever want to just walk away from it?”

Though there was no doubt to his answer, it took him a long minute to respond. “It’s challenging at times.
Most
of the time. But I have never regretted my position.” He turned and looked at her. He about came in his chair. She was all long and golden, stretched out like the queen of Sheba on his bed. He swallowed hard. She had changed while he was in the shower. The sexy little thong panties that accentuated the soft curve of her hips and the formfitting spaghetti-strap half tee that hugged her lush tits like an offering should be arrested for the lewd and lascivious acts he wanted to perform on the body they adorned.

“I—” He forgot the rest of the question.

Falon smiled and brushed her dark hair off her left shoulder, exposing the hollow of her collarbone. It was sexy as hell. He loved dipping his tongue into and then across that silky spot. “Do you ever want to walk away from it?”

“No.” He exhaled. He wanted to plow right into it. “Never.”

“Not even a little?”

Lucien shook his head, his gaze holding hers. “Not even a little.” He would never abandon his pack.

She pulled the blanket over and across her body. “I’m glad.” She closed her eyes and turned on her side away from him.

Lucien blinked, ignoring the ache in his loins and his urge to demand from Falon what she freely gave his brother. He swiped his hand across his chin as the anger returned.

“Damn it,” he cursed softly. One way or another Falon was going to get so deep under his skin he’d either have to cut her out or let her take over his body. He wasn’t sure which would hurt less.

Damn it all to hell! He shut down his computer and blew out all but two candles, then slid into his big, comfortable bed that had become a torture chamber.

AFTER WHAT SEEMED like hours of tossing and turning, reliving frame by frame the horrible fight between the two Lycans, and Joachim’s terrible injury, it was Lucien who was predominant in Falon’s mind. Specifically his swift punitive damage followed by the gentle handling of his man. The first action she accepted, hell, expected no less from Lucien. But the latter threw her for a loop.

Just when she thought she knew what drove the complex alpha, he showed a side of himself that made her rethink her judgment. Falon mentally threw her hands up in the air deciding she would never understand Lucien Mondragon, and with that conclusion, she was finally able to fall asleep. It was short-lived. She was being chased through the timberline, running toward the safety of Vulkasin. The deep rumble of motorcycle engines closing in fast behind her. She looked over her shoulder and screamed. Dozens of armless Vipers, no more than three feet away, gunning straight for her.