Bloodright (7 page)

Lucien scoffed at the outlaw biker and the handful of his men that flanked him. Like all Vipers, Sledge defined skinhead. Tatted, shaved head, and Aryan, he was a bloodthirsty bastard that would kill his own mother for a ten-dollar rock. If Lucien was mortal, he would be afraid, but he was neither. “The day I care about keeping you waiting, Viper, is the day the world ends.” Lucien strode past him and his thugs to the large open kitchen and snatched a beer from the fridge. He did not offer the biker one. He never entertained pleasantries with Vipers. While the Slayers had their own purpose for the miscreants, Lucien had his as well. They served one purpose for him and one purpose only, a means to keeping his brother entertained.

“You owe me for a dozen men,” the Viper said, striding toward him.

Lucien twisted off the bottle cap and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “I don’t owe you for shit.”

For a human, Sledge had the balls of a Brahma. He moved into Lucien’s space posturing like a damn ape. Lucien’s lips twisted in a contemptuous sneer as he drew a mental line that if Sledge stepped over it, the biker would be eating worms with Gordo, the previous leader. A few weeks ago, in a throw down, Lucien and Rafael had taken care of Gordo, along with a dozen other Vipers. It had been like old times when as brothers they fought side by side. For a few minutes as they kicked Viper ass, Lucien forgot they were sworn enemies. But unlike the old times when he would have come to his brother’s aide regardless of the odds, Lucien told himself at the time, he only intervened with Gordo to preserve one of his prized possessions: his tricked-out chopper, the same one his brother had taken without asking. But in truth, the real reason he came to his brother’s aide was to keep him alive so that when his turn came for revenge, Rafael would have the physical and mental wherewithal to be destroyed by it.

“After what happened on the mountain road and the warehouse with your brother, my numbers are down. I can’t hurt a fucking fly with what I got right now.”

Lucien shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“The fuck it ain’t!” The biker sneered. Flexing his burly arms, he stepped over Lucien’s line.

Lucien shoved the six foot four, 270-pound biker so hard, his heels dug into the wooden floor, leaving sawdust in their wake as he flew backward into the wall. Lucien took a long swig of his beer and calmly looked across the room at the downed biker. “We have no business, Sledge. If I see you anywhere near here again, I’m going to rip your throat out.”

“I came with an offer from Corbet.”

Lucien’s head snapped back. He knew the Vipers did business with the Slayers, but messenger? Corbet must be getting desperate. “I wasn’t aware you and Balor Corbet were so chatty.”

“Our relationship with Corbet’s people is no secret.”

“Indeed.” Lucien took another long swig of his beer. “Corbet funds your meth labs and keeps the cops off your back; in exchange, you run his dirty errands so he can keep his hands clean.”

“Look, dude, he’s been gone for a while, he’s back and wants to talk.”

“About what? In less than two months he will be dead.”

Sledge shook his skinned head as he stood. “Your arrogance is going to get you all killed.”

Lucien laughed and took a long pull from his beer, then leveled his glare at the tall biker. “My ‘arrogance’ is fueled by what I know as fact: Corbet can hire every mercenary on the planet and he will still lose the war.”

“You’re the only one of your kind to believe your bullshit. No fucking way will you survive the rising.”

Lucien did not acknowledge the biker’s comment about the rising. He wasn’t going to bullshit the biker that Lycan were a figment of his imagination, but that Corbet would divulge such proprietary information as the rising to a mere mortal infuriated him. But he kept his cool and said, “That’s because I am the only one of
my kind
that understands the power I hold.”

“I don’t give a shit what you think. I’m here to relay a message: Corbet wants to meet and discuss an arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement?”

“Something to do with positioning you as the leader of all the packs.”

Lucien snorted his contempt. “I don’t need Corbet for that.”

“Why not hear him out?” Falon’s husky voice said from behind him.

Lucien stiffened and slowly turned around. His eyes widened, then narrowed as his blood pressure shot up one hundred points. He swiped his hand across his chin. Jesus Christ! The woman had bigger balls than he did.

Lucien glanced at Sledge and his temper spiked dangerously. He could deal with Falon butting in on a subject she had no understanding of, but what he refused to accept was the reason for the biker’s hungry, slack-jawed look. Fury exploded inside of Lucien, not for Sledge’s reaction but because of Falon brazenly calling his bluff. If he challenged her here and now, he would look the fool. If he—Lucien’s blood shot straight to his dick. Holy mother of Jesus, she was going to pay for this.

Butt-ass naked, Falon strode past Lucien to the fridge. She tossed her long hair over her shoulders and yanked open the door. He watched helplessly as the frosty air swirled around her nipples and the way they pebbled in reaction. Sledge choked back a strangled sound. The rutting sounds of Vipers spurred Lucien’s pack into action. They growled low, pressing closer around the bikers.

Lucien knew his pack smelled his mark. But more potent than that was the sex scent clinging like a heady aphrodisiac to Falon. Tonight would be a wild lusty orgy the pack had not seen in over fifteen years. When—not
if
, he told himself—Falon marked him, her womb would be ripe for his seed and then, his line would be born. His cock thickened at the thought. She was a magnificent specimen of woman and Lycan. Their children would be strong, lusty hybrids, capable of leading the pack into the next millennia.

The cloying scent of their lust swirled around the room. The urge to push her to the floor on all fours and take her from behind as his pack witnessed his dominance over her was overpowering. But Lucien tempered it with his promise that he would not touch her again. He also tempered it with his silent vow to respect her wishes that he not eviscerate any man who looked at her like Sledge and his dirty pack of jackals did at that moment. It took every ounce of self-control Lucien possessed not to rip out the biker’s throat.

Lucien’s face tightened. How had she turned this around on him? He had vowed not to touch her when touching her was all he wanted. He swore to kill any man who looked at her with lust. And yet, there Sledge stood drooling onto the floor like a starving dog over a bone, and Lucien did nothing to stop it.

He realized in the unlikely circumstances that he could seduce Falon without touching her, without her even knowing what he was about. But it would be an empty victory because fucking her was easy. Winning her trust and respect was the true challenge. In another place and another time, he would woo her relentlessly.

He sneered. And would that not be the ultimate revenge? More than possessing Falon’s body, but possessing her heart? That victory would be worth all of his defeats combined.

Lucien shook his head. Falon had cast some kind of spell on him, because he was thinking crazy. What did he care about love? He cared about two things: destroying Slayers and rubbing salt into his brother’s wounded heart.

His eyes narrowed to slits. She was a witch. She’d tempted and beguiled his brother to distraction, and now she was doing her damnedest to do the same to him. He opened his mouth to tell her to return to his room but when Falon grabbed a beer and twisted the top off, Lucien’s vigilant gaze raked her from the top of her dark head to her face, then down the long graceful column of her neck. She stood straight and proud, her tits sitting up firm and high. The pebbled pink tips strained toward him. She put her lips to the bottle and tipped her head back and drank. In silent awe, every man in the room stood rooted to the floor and beheld the spectacular sight. His hot gaze swept the long length of her. Yeah, she was worthy of any alpha. Of a king. And she was his. In body only, but that was enough—for now.

“Fuck me,” Sledge whispered, taking a step toward Falon.

Lucien flung his fist backward into the biker’s chest, the force sending him crashing to the floor. His patience gone, Lucien grabbed Falon by the arms, her beer flying out of her hand as he flung her over his shoulder and stormed upstairs to his room. Angrily he tossed her onto the bed. She popped up snarling, tossing her wild mane over her shoulders ready to fight.

“Do not ever interfere in my business,” he commanded.

Falon threw her head back and laughed. Then narrowed her eyes at him and demanded, “Am I not your chosen one? As such, I demand to stand beside my almighty alpha.” She bowed to him as if he were King Shit. “By rights, I am entitled to not only interfere in pack business but to be a part of the process.”

Lucien refused to answer her. As his chosen one, she was entitled to everything he had. And by agreeing to the council’s terms, she was in every way his chosen one. But that was not what spurned his anger. Her wanton behavior in front of the biker disrespected not only his pack but Lucien personally. “I warned you what would happen if you tempted another man!” Lucien knew how ridiculous he sounded, but jealousy gnawed viciously at him.

Falon slid from the bed and sauntered toward him. “Did the big bad wolf get burned by his own huffing and puffing?” She traced a fingertip along the width of his chest and up and over his shoulder. As she rounded behind him, she traced her fingertip along the rigid line of his shoulders. “Perhaps you should rescind your spiteful orders.” She rose up on her toes and whispered against his ear. “Be careful what you ask for, Lucien, you might get it.” She strode past him into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

He stood for long, furious minutes fighting down the violent reaction she evoked from him. Never had a female infuriated him the way this one did. Never had he wanted to bend one to his will as he did this one. Never had he wanted to sink to his knees and beg a female to let him in as he did this one.

And never had he lost control and composure with one as he did Falon.

Be careful what you wish for, indeed. She would be the death of him!

In slow, measured steps, Lucien returned to the common room. Sledge had not moved from where he hit the floor. Lucien waved him away. “Go. We have no business.”

“Will you meet with Corbet?” the biker asked, slowly standing up.

“No.”

“Not even hear him out?”

Lucien growled. Humans were the most insipid beings on earth. “Leave here!”

When the heavy metal doors closed soundly behind the Viper leader and his ragtag men, Lucien looked at the haggard faces of his pack. There were less than seventy of them now. Each and every one deserved more than what they had endured these last sixteen years.

“Our time is at hand, Mondragon. I have marked my mate. Soon she will return the mark and then—” Emotion filled Lucien’s chest. “Then there will be such a rise of the Lycan nation, no man, Slayer, or beast will deny our right to live freely and without persecution!”

Three

FOR THE FIRST time in nearly sixteen years, Lucien watched hope spring into the eyes of his pack. It warmed his heart to see them smile. And for the first time since he was ten years old, he felt that same warmth swell inside himself. Not even when he was about to mark his first chosen one had he felt such optimism for the future. Perhaps it was because he never actually marked her. Perhaps had he, he would have felt the same sense of euphoria he now felt having marked Falon.

He smiled and gathered them close. “We are on the precipice of something great, Mondragon,” he said softly, as if saying it too loud would jinx it. As they huddled around him, their excited anticipation for the coming night was palpable. It was good, their lust. As was customary when an alpha marked his mate, the pack celebrated by playing the field to narrow down their chosen ones for the day the mark was reciprocated. By the time Falon marked him, his pack would have decided on mating pairs and when Falon became pregnant, it would signal a wild tidal wave of fertility for the pack. Within the year, an entire generation would be born and for as many years as he and Falon were together, his pack would regenerate their bloodlines.

And, gods willing, he and Falon would set the bar high and have more than a single child. A profound sense of what he must do swelled within Lucien. For the first time in his life, Lucien looked ahead and saw the faces of his children before him. Strong, lusty children full of fire like their mother and passion like their sire.

He wanted that. Strength, power, a family bound not only by blood but by love. It was the family his mother and father had built for their children. It was a family, though imperfect, he had thrived in.

But before he could begin, there was the rising. To destroy the Slayers, every pack must focus solely on that end and be proactive.

“In less than two months’ time, the Blood Moon will rise. Between now and then, it is imperative we hunt daily. Each Slayer we destroy now is one less to rise against us later.”

Cheers rose up around him. Lucien waited for his pack to settle down. “I have met with each California pack leader over the last month, even those who do not approve of Mondragon, and all have agreed we must be proactive now. To that end, at first light tomorrow, we will hunt daily.” Aggressive growls of approval rose around him. “My promise to you is that before the next full moon, I will cut Balor Corbet down, strip him bare, and—” Lucien caught Falon’s scent. He raised his head and looked past his gathered pack to see her standing on the last step of the metal stairway. She stood tall and proud, and shock of shocks, clothed in one of his black T-shirts and a pair of black sweats. Collectively his pack turned and followed his eyes. He felt their anxiety rise. They were unsure how to feel about this female they were supposed to accept as their alpha when she made it clear she did not want to be a part of Mondragon. Lucien understood. But he was determined to change both Falon’s and his pack’s feelings toward the other.