Bloodright (18 page)

Lucien’s nostrils flared at the exact moment as hers. She raised her nose to the wind that swirled up from the angry river. “Do you smell it, Lucien?”

He turned, catching a strong whiff of the scent. “Lycan.”

“Which Lycan?”

He inhaled again and she felt his excitement. “Layla,” he breathed. “She has come home.”

Eight

“WHO IS LAYLA, and why is that name familiar to me?” Falon asked, intrigued. She was sure she had smelled the Lycan’s scent before, near the Amorak camp last month. “I swear I have smelled it before, from my past and just last month near the Amorak camp.”

“That’s impossible. While Layla is Vulkasin’s healer and spirit guide she was kidnapped by Thomas Corbet the day he slew my parents. She has been gone for twenty-four years. We thought she was dead.”

“Maybe she has been held captive all this time?” Falon offered, knowing the scent was familiar. Her nose did not lie. She had smelled it the day she ran from Rafael to the Slayer lair in Oakland to find the truth about any connection between her last name and clan Corbet. She had been immeasurably relieved to discover there was no connection. It was while at the Corbet lair in Oakland she discovered she was Lycan, and knew being related to clan Corbet was an impossibility. No Slayer would lay with a Lycan, and a Lycan would rather eat crap and die before laying with a Slayer. Still, when she’d detected the Lycan’s scent that night, it was one she’d recognized from childhood. How could that be?

“She would not have survived their torture all this time, Falon. Layla was powerful, but even as gifted a healer as she was, she has her limits.”

“Perhaps she escaped before they could harm her and she is just now after all these years come home? Let’s track her and ask her.”

Lucien’s sharp eyes scanned the wooded landscape below. He shook his head. “Corbet would have hunted her down and killed her like he did my parents.” The sorrow in Lucien’s voice was undeniable. “As much as I want answers, there is a reason Layla has not revealed herself all these years. I would not presume to force myself on her.” His golden eyes continued to scan the landscape, as if he hoped to catch a glimpse of his past. “Besides, with Layla come the memories of what happened that day.”

Falon moved closer to him and touched his arm. He started and looked down at her. “Sometimes talking about it purges the pain. Can you tell me what happened?”

A flurry of emotions flashed across his face before he masked them in indifference. “You know what happened.”

Rafael had told her his side; now she wanted Lucien’s. She slid her fingertips down the hard muscles of his arm to his hand, entwining her fingers with his. “Tell me everything, Lucien,” she softy urged.

He pulled his hand from hers and shook his head, taking a step away. Completely withdrawing.

“I want to share that burden with you, Luca. Trust me enough to tell me what happened.”

He turned on her, his golden eyes blazing coals. “I relive that day every hour of my life. It only serves to galvanize my determination to destroy every drop of Corbet blood on this earth.”

“What happened?”

“Those bastards used their black magic to disguise themselves as an Amorak clan from the north. My father’s people. He welcomed them with open arms. The minute the gates closed behind them, they revealed themselves. Thomas Corbet, his brothers, Edward and Balor, and their henchmen.” Lucien fisted his hands and moved to the edge of the boulder. The muscles along his back corded in tension as he stared out at the raging river.

“My mother grabbed me and Rafe, forcing us into the bunker beneath the main building. She made us swear, no matter what, to stay hidden.”

He swiped his hand across his face. “Even though I swore to her I would hide from the Slayers, I ran after my mother. I had enough rage inside me that day to destroy them all. But Rafe held me back.” Lucien laughed bitterly. “I was smaller than Rafe then, nothing but eighty pounds soaking wet. At ten, Rafe was bigger, stronger. He held me down until the door locked behind Mother. He told me I must honor my promise to her. To hide. Like a coward!” He threw his head back and raised his fists to the sky. “We were fucking ten years old!”

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “There were shuttered slats just above the ground. Rafa and me, we— Jesus, we watched as my father took on those bastard brothers, but they were high as kites on something and overpowered him. Their henchmen were brutal, forcing most of the pack to their knees as one by one they were beheaded. Their black magic was powerful that day. More powerful than ever before.”

Lucien’s voice lowered to such a painful low, Falon could barely hear his words. “Edward and Balor grabbed my mother, stripped her naked, and… violated her while my father, who was barbwired to the gates, watched. Thomas demanded she tell him the location of her sons. She spit in his eyes. Then he skinned her alive. One inch at a time.”

Lucien pressed his hands to his ears. “I can still hear her screams and my father’s pleas for mercy. Rafe and I, we went crazy trying to claw our way out of that bunker, but we couldn’t. We saw everything. Heard everything. They nearly broke my father. He must have called to the gods for help, because he went crazy and broke free from the gates. But it was too late—” Lucien choked. “My proud, beautiful mother was dead. The Slayers were too powerful that day and the pack too few. Father was subdued and those bastards did the same thing to him. Then they turned on the remaining pack. The last thing I remember seeing was Thomas throwing Layla over his shoulder as they strutted out of the compound like some damn heroes.”

Tears blurred Falon’s vision as she moved to Lucien and wrapped her arms around his back. His anguish was so palpable it infused her own heart with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Lucien.”

His body tightened but he covered her clasped hands with his own, squeezing them hard. After several long moments, Lucien softly but dangerously said, “I swear on my mother’s soul, Falon, if it is the last thing I do, I will destroy every Corbet that walks this earth.”

She swallowed hard. “My last name is Corbet.”

He squeezed her hands. “So I heard.” He turned and looked down at her, his expression grim. “But you are Lycan, and it’s a good thing that it is a coincidence.”

“What if it wasn’t?” She was afraid of the answer.

He swept her hair from her face and rubbed his knuckles across her cheek. “Though it would kill me to do it, I would destroy you.”

Fear skittered across Falon’s skin. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips. “I’m glad it’s just a coincidence, too.”

His lips brushed across hers. “You are Lycan, Falon, and Mondragon now.”

The howl of a wounded wolf pierced their moment.

“Layla,” Lucien whispered, raising his head.

Falon raised her head and sniffed the air. “Vipers.”

Lucien smiled dangerously. “Let’s go hunting.”

Simultaneously, they shifted, and like the raging river below, they followed the death scent.

Several hundred yards down the steep embankment, they slowed at the edge of a thick copse of trees and stared at the scene playing out in the small clearing ahead. A honey brown she-wolf struggled in a steel bear trap. A half dozen Vipers poked and prodded her with short silver-tipped spears.

The wolf snarled and snapped, chewing against the vicious metal jaws clamped around her left hind leg.

Fury clamped just as viciously around Falon’s heart. Equal fury reverberated from Lucien.

Circle to the other side,
Lucien said.
I’ll draw them out. As soon as I have their attention, pull the stake grounding the trap. Then take out the nearest Viper. Rip him apart, but stay clear of his spear. When the others turn on you, retreat. I’ll take another one out from behind. We’ll go back and forth until each one is dust.

Be careful.

Falon circled around and, as she crouched, Lucien leapt into the fray.

He snatched a Viper by the neck and shook him viciously, snapping his neck. The remaining Vipers shouted, focusing their attention on him. Falon leapt toward the she-wolf. With her strong jaws, she grasped the eye loop of the spike that anchored the chain to the metal trap and pulled. The she-wolf turned and grabbed the spike below Falon’s jaw and together they pulled. Slow and steady, the spike responded.

Heat pierced Falon’s flank. She snarled in pain as she was impaled to the ground by a Viper’s spear. She snarled and snapped the wooden shaft in half, and then pulled the imbedded part out of her leg with her teeth. She flung it at the Viper where it hit center mass.

She looked over to Lucien, who was in the middle of a Viper pile on. Falon leapt into the air and, like the feral warrior she was, she ripped and shredded flesh and bones until she stood side by side with Lucien. Together they turned on the remaining Vipers and decimated them. The remaining two ran for their lives to their choppers. Falon leapt after one and Lucien the other. In perfect symmetry, as if they had been fighting side by side for years, they landed on the leather-clad backs of the men as they roared off on their bikes. The velocity of their hits knocked each biker off his seat to the ground. Blood blurred Falon’s vision as she tore the Viper’s chest open. He screamed only once before he lay still on the blood-soaked earth.

LUCIEN STEPPED BACK from the dead biker beneath his bloody paws and shook, his heavy body flinging blood off his fur. Falon did the same. Bloodlust hung like a death knell in the air as he turned and surveyed the carnage. Not one Viper survived. His eyes tracked to the metal trap to find it gone. He shifted to human and strode over to where it had been staked. He lifted the metal stake to his nose and deeply inhaled. There was no doubt in his mind it was Layla. He vividly remembered her honey-colored wolf coat. Not only had she been the most powerful medicine woman in the States but she was a favorite of his mother’s, and spent many hours of each day in their private quarters.

Falon shifted beside him. “Why did she run?”

Lucien dropped the stake and looked at Falon’s blood-smeared body. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to catch her breath. Her nostrils flared, her eyes dilated with excitement. His body tightened. She was a magnificent sight.

“Because she does not want to be found,” he said huskily.

“But we have to go after her!”

“She will run faster then.”

“Why? If she’s so close, why wouldn’t she return to her pack?”

Lucien shook his head. “When she is ready, she will come home.”

“But I want to meet her.
I have questions
.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Falon?”

“What?”

“Lycan are social creatures by nature, but there are a few who choose to remain lone wolves. It’s not to be questioned or challenged.”

“But she’s wounded.”

“She is also a renowned healer.” He grinned. “Now, I have something altogether different on my mind.”

He grabbed Falon by the hand and pulled her toward the swirling riverbank, then into the chilly water.

As they went under, he pulled her warm body to his. His passion for her raged. She had been remarkable beside him, tearing into the Vipers with the same blood rage as he. She was quick and powerful. And deadly. She shared his lusts on every level whether it be carnal or primal.

As they surfaced, he kissed her. She didn’t refuse him. Indeed, she met his lips with an equal fervor. His passion soared. He dunked them again, washing the blood from their bodies until hand in hand they ran to the sunny bank. Lucien pushed her to the soft ground, his cock thick and heavy.

“You are as fierce as any of my men, Falon,” he breathed, parting her thighs with his knee.

She grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over onto his back. Her ocean blue eyes blazed wild with triumph. She was as caught up in the moment as he. Her musky sex scent permeated the pine and loamy scents of the earth. She covered his body with hers. “I am as fierce as you, Lucien.” She nipped at his bottom lip, drawing blood.

He growled as he grew harder and clasped her to him. But she resisted, pulling back. She shook her head and drops of blood tinted river water splattered across his chest. She licked him clean. His body stiffened painfully. “
I
am in charge of me, Lucien. Not you, not Rafael, not Sharia. Not even the Blood Law.” She lowered her lips to his. He swelled against her thigh. “I submitted to you once to honor Rafael’s sacrifice but after that… I allowed you to touch me because
I
wanted you to.
I
want you to now.” She brushed her lips across his. He clasped her head to deepen the kiss.

She was having none of it. She pulled away, but slid her slick cunt down his belly. He growled, steeling himself.

Rocking her slick folds along the blunt head of his dick, she toyed with him. The stimulation against his cock ring drove him mad. Her eyes burned hot with lust. Her heavy breasts swayed temptingly, and her pebbled nipples begged for his tongue. It took every bit of self-control Lucien possessed not to impale her from below. She ran her hands up his arms, pushing them above his head. Entwining her fingers in his, she lengthened against him. “I am in control now, Lucien. I say how fast.” She slid her slickness up his belly then back down to the tip of his cock. Then, in a painfully slow undulation, she moved against him, twirling her hips so that those sweet lips caught the blunt head of his cock just low enough to tease and manipulate his cock ring. He gritted his teeth, fighting the intensity of the sensation and the awareness that all he had to do was tip his hips into her…

“And how slow.” She ran her slick folds down the length of his shaft. She strained against him, relishing her power over him.

Never had a woman dared to dominate him. Never would he have allowed it. Never until now. Until Falon.

Her lips captured his in a hard, demanding kiss. Her tongue swirled along his bottom lip, into his mouth, and around his tongue. Her damp hair cascaded around them, a shield against the world. His fingers tightened around hers, his entire being on the brink of snapping in half.