Bloodright (24 page)

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Authors: Karin Tabke

BOOK: Bloodright
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Their collective heartbeats rose to a hazardous level.

“You cannot survive all of our bullets,” Corbet threatened from the safety of his circle.

“Do you really want to find out?” Falon taunted stepping closer. Just as quickly as she had the first one, Falon grabbed the next closest Slayer and flung him behind her. Like his predecessor, the Slayer became another Berserker chew toy.

Draw Corbet out just another six inches and we’ll have a clear shot,
Lucien said.

“I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with here, Mr. Corbet,” Falon said in a deadly whisper. “I not only have the blood of the two most powerful alphas in the world running through my veins, one of which bears the Eye of Fenrir, but I have powers they do not have.” She raised her hands and shoved them toward the Slayers. A sharp gust of wind slammed into them, shoving all of them back several feet. “I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.” She laughed. “Well, actually no sleeve at the moment.” Falon continued to walk toward them. They continued to back away from her.

“Since I’m feeling a little generous tonight, how about a deal, Mr. Corbet? Come with me, and I’ll let your men go.”

“Come with me,” Corbet countered, “and I will let your paramours go.”

“My
paramours
are not negotiable.” She raised her hand and pointed to the small part of his head that was visible. “In fact, I’ve reconsidered. I’m going to kill you and your little friends, too.”

“Kill me and my secrets die with me,” Corbet taunted.

“I have no interest in your secrets, Corbet.”

He laughed. “Not even if it will save the life of your precious Mondragon?”

Falon hesitated a half of a heartbeat. What did he mean?

In that hesitation, Lucien pulled the trigger. His arrow whizzed past her ear and straight into Corbet’s throat. The Slayer screamed, grabbing the feathered end. Falon lunged, shifting in midair and diving over the frantic men surrounding Corbet to finish the job. Chaos broke out around her. Her vision narrowed, focusing on one thing: killing Corbet.

Leaping into the circle, she watched with satisfaction as a wide-eyed and staggering Corbet pulled the arrow from his neck. Snarling, Falon leapt toward him. Just as she sunk her fangs into Corbet’s chest, he thrust the bloody arrow into her chest. Liquid fire, his Slayer blood seared her flesh, stopping her cold. Wild, chaotic visions crashed through her. Screams, flames, the death of hundreds.

A mother protecting her child as a savage black wolf tore it apart.

Lucien!

Falon squeezed her eyes shut, blotting out the terrible vision. The screams. The scent of blood. A mother’s desperation to save her child, but knowing she would die, too.

Falon screamed. It was too much.

Of its own volition, her body shifted to human.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Corbet violently shook her. “He killed my sisters!” Corbet screamed, blood bubbling out of his mouth. “He killed my mother!”

His pain infused her. She understood. She wanted to mourn with him but he was her enemy. She tried to raise her arms to fight him off, but they hung heavy at her sides.

“Corbet drew first blood!” Falon shouted, justifying Lucien’s actions. Though in her gut it sickened her. It all sickened her. The destruction of families, for what? Because of a dead king’s hatred for wolves.

It was senseless.

Through the blood and grime on his face, Corbet’s lips twisted in an evil smile. “And I will draw last blood. An eye for an eye. Now you die!” In powerless horror, Falon watched Corbet open his mouth. Sharp yellow teeth elongated before her eyes just like master Slayer Viktor Salene’s had when he tried to claim her. But this time Rafael was not there to save her. Corbet bit her.

Falon screamed. Violent pain sunk deep into her. She screamed again, deeper, agonizing as lightning bolts of power struck through her body. Her strength soared. Grabbing a hank of Corbet’s hair, Falon yanked his head back, pulling his vicious teeth from her shoulder. Her eyes met his onyx-colored ones, and in them she saw the horrors of ten lifetimes. He deserved to die more than once.

“Say hello to your uncle for me,” Falon whispered in his ear before she snapped his neck. Kicking his body away from her, she grabbed Corbet’s sword from its scabbard, and with one vicious thrust, separated his head from his shoulders.

Her heart pounded as adrenaline and power pumped through her.

Sword raised, Falon turned, crying out triumphantly to Lucien and Rafael.

Lucien ran toward her shifting to human just as Rafael shifted behind him.

“Falon!” he screamed, reaching out to her just as a Slayer’s blade impaled her from behind. Her body jerked in horrendous pain. Stunned, she caught Lucien’s horrified gaze from across the fray. She blinked as blood blurred her vision. In slow motion, she looked down to see the bloody blade of the sword protruding from her belly, then back up into Lucien’s terrified eyes.

He got me.

Taking a deep, excruciating breath, she reached around to her back and grasped the hilt, then pulled it free from her body. As her crippled body dropped to its knees, Falon called upon her last bit of strength. She reversed the direction of the blade, and thrust it backward into the gut of the Slayer it belonged to.

As her power dwindled, she dropped the sword and hung her head.

Lucien’s furious roar tore through the remaining Slayers, scattering them out of his path.

“Falon!” he roared, leaping across the decapitated bodies that separated them.

With her last bit of strength, she reached out to him.
Luca.

He caught her in his arms as she collapsed onto the bloody ground.

Twelve

 

“FALON!” LUCIEN SCREAMED again, catching her as she crumbled to the ground. Rafael snarled viciously behind him even as he and the others fought off the remaining Slayers.

Terror corded in Lucien’s belly. “Falon, speak to me!” he shouted, shaking her.

In answer, her heart shuddered violently against her chest, then stumbled to a halt.

“No!” Lucien howled. “No!” Frantic, he looked up to his brother.

Covered in Slayer blood, Rafael dropped to his knees and grabbed one of Falon’s hands. “Take the other, Lucien.”

As they had moments before, the brothers connected through her. Warmth infused their bodies, but Falon’s body did not respond. They squeezed tighter. “Save her!” Rafael shouted at the Eye of Fenrir. It remained cool and quiet. “Traitor!” he hissed. “You will pay for this, mark my words!”

Lucien bit his free arm, severing a vein. Blood spurted in an arch, running down his arm. “Open her mouth,” he directed Rafael. As Rafe opened her mouth with his free hand, Lucien pressed his open vein to her lips. Her heart shuddered again, then picked up a shallow, erratic rhythm.

“Falon,” Lucien begged. “Please, wake up.”

Releasing his hand from hers, he gently rubbed her throat, helping her ingest his blood. But she did not respond. Her heartbeat grew fainter. “Don’t you die on me!” Lucien shouted, emotion choking in his words.

Rafael bit his wrist and looked to Lucien, who nodded vigorously. Rafael pressed his wrist to Falon’s lips.

The combined bloods of the brothers mingled and dripped down Falon’s cheek to the Slayer bite on her shoulder. When the bloods met, her skin flared with heat. Sweat erupted along her skin, slickening it. Her lips paled to white before their eyes and her breathing turned forced and shallow.

“There is something else wrong,” Rafael said. Leaning closer, he lifted her eyelid. Falon’s deep blue eye had turned nearly black.

“Slayer black magic!” Rafe hissed releasing her. “Corbet’s blood is poisoned!”

Chilling dread filled Lucien. This was not happening! His hands shook as he gathered her into his arms. “I need to get her to Talia.” He stood and turned toward the Slayer camp. “There were trucks at the Slayer camp. I’m going to take one; it’ll be faster.”

“I’m right behind you.”

With Falon held tightly to his chest, Lucien ran for her life, eating up the few miles between him and a means to get Falon to safety in minutes. The first truck he tried had keys in the ignition.

“I’m going with you,” Rafe said opening the passenger door, helping Lucien lay Falon down.

“Stay with the pack,” Lucien commanded, shutting the door.

Rafe’s hand stayed it. “I love her, too,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

Lucien felt his brother’s pain, but—“She is mine now. See to the pack.” He slammed the door shut, then hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. He jammed the gas pedal to the floor. As he fishtailed out of the dirt lot, he looked in the review mirror to see his brother watching them drive away.

Falon didn’t need Rafe’s help. What she needed was Talia. “How the fuck did this happen?” he shouted, banging his fists on the steering wheel. Why?
Why?

Guilt ate away at him.

It was his fault Falon was on her deathbed.
His fucking fault!
He never should have let her walk out to Corbet like that! She would have beaten the living snot out of him, but he should have insisted. Lucien careened around a corner on two tires, then gunned the engine as the truck came down on all four wheels, and drove like a madman toward the only person he knew who could help him save the woman he loved.

And he did love her. Gods, he loved her! Fiercely. Passionately. Possessively. He loved her in a way he never expected to love a woman. Not just any woman. The most amazing woman he had ever met. That any of his kind had met. She was pure of heart. She was powerful. She was beautiful and brave. And damn it, it was his fault she was dying! His fear that Corbet would reveal his secret had spurned him to shoot before Rafe was ready. Their combined shots would have dropped the bastard! Corbet would not have bitten her, and she would not have been vulnerable to the other Slayer’s blade.

He looked down at her pale face. He drove with his left hand; with his right, he stroked Falon’s cheek. “I swear to you, Falon, if you survive, I will let you go. I will not stand between you and Rafe if that is what you want.” As he said the words, his heart constricted so severely he could not breathe. Life without Falon would be no life at all.

Lucien made it back to Mondragon in record time. He crashed through the gates, grinding to a stop just before the warehouse doors. He grabbed Falon and nearly collided with Talia as she came running outside. “She’s been poisoned with Slayer blood! She’s dying, Talia! Save her!” he pleaded.

Talia’s violet eyes sparked with fear. The pack gathered as Lucien hurried inside with her. “Set her down on the sofa,” Talia said quietly.

Lucien did as he was told. Talia knelt beside Falon and felt her brow, then placed her ear to her chest. She touched the ragged bite on her shoulder, then lifted Falon’s eyelid. The gathered pack hissed a collective breath. Talia lifted the other lid. The pack stepped back shaking their heads. Just like the right, Falon’s left eye was onyx black.

“She is not a Slayer!” Lucien shouted at his pack. “She killed Ian Corbet! It’s poison.” He dropped to his knees beside Falon and smoothed her damp hair back from her face. He looked expectantly up to Talia’s frowning face. “I command you to save her.”

“Lucien, it’s Corbet blood, the most powerful of all Slayer blood. I don’t know—”

“No!” Lucien roared. “I will not hear what you cannot do. Only what you
can
do!”

“She needs a transfusion. From a compatible blood.”

“She is not resistant to mine! Take it all! Take my heart if it will save her!”

“Your blood is strong, Lucien, and while it infuses Falon’s with power, only her true blood can clear the Slayer poison from her body.”

“What the fuck is true blood?”

“True blood comes from her parents or a sibling.”

Lucien threw his head back and howled. This could not be! There must be another way!

“Sharia knows!” he said desperately. “She knows everything!”

Talia shook her head. “Sharia has gone north. She cannot help you.”

Lucien leaned over Falon’s struggling body. Her skin flushed bright red and was hot to the touch. As she continued to struggle for each breath, he moved to the sofa and drew her into his arms. Gently he began to rock her, feeling as helpless as the day his parents were killed. Tears stung his eyes. He buried his face in Falon’s damp tangled hair. “Falon,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t leave me,” he begged. “Tell me what to do. I will do anything.”

Her heartbeat slowed to barely a blip. Desperate, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for her if it would save her life, Lucien stood with Falon in his arms and carried her outside to the front of the building. Raising her in his arms toward the half-moon, he begged for her life. “Great Spirit Mother, I have never asked anything of you.” Tears blinded him, the words choked in his throat. “I know you can restore life.” Lucien dropped to his knees, still holding Falon’s dying body toward the sky. “I beg you, take my life for hers. I give it freely!”

Lucien begged repeatedly, promising the Great Spirit Mother anything and everything if she would just grant him this one request. His powerful arms began to shake, but he would not lower Falon. He would not lower her until his prayers were answered.

A warm hand touched his arm. A soothing familiar scent wrapped around Lucien’s head. Warmth skittered through his body. Lucien’s arms trembled but he kept Falon raised to the Great Spirit Mother. A soft familiar voice spoke from behind him.

“I am Layla, great-great-great-granddaughter of the Great Spirit Mother Singarti. You hold my child in your arms.”

Lucien’s heart dropped to his gut. Dear Gods!

Half turning, he stared in amazement at the familiar face. “How?” he croaked, not believing she was here or the miracle of her words.

“There is no time to explain, Lucien. We must hurry.”

Emotion he could not describe filled his heart. He lowered his arms, and through his tears, he turned fully to the small Lycan. Layla was as beautiful and serene as the day Thomas Corbet took her from Vulkasin. He saw so much of Falon in the stubborn set of her jaw and the confidence that radiated from her. But what touched him most was the hope in Layla’s warm brown eyes. Gently he handed Falon to her mother. She cradled Falon to her chest, turned, and limped into the building. Lucien stood and followed close behind.

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