Blood Vow (Blood Moon Rising) (8 page)

But how could they, she asked herself. She was asking for two dominant males, each who had marked her and who she in turn had marked, to be cordial to each other when they both wanted to be the one she turned to for all of her needs.

She was being selfish. Even if there were no power of three, she wanted Lucien and Rafael for herself because
she
wanted them both. Swallowing hard as she thought of her father and the repercussions of it, she laid back against the headboard.

Dear God, if they knew about her parentage they would not only never be hers, but they would despise her for eternity if they didn’t kill her first. It was not fair! She had no control over who created her. Why should she pay for their sins? As angry as she was over her parentage, guilt rode her harder. Rafa and Luca deserved the truth, but no matter how terrible the truth was, she could never reveal it. She deserved to live, but more than her life, she would not risk her child’s life. And she could not bear to see the pain, hatred, and disgust in either one of their eyes when she told them.

She had no choice but to keep her secret. That resignation eased some of her tension.

Slipping out of bed, Falon got a whiff of herself. Ugh. She needed a bath but her stomach gurgled for food. She found a pale yellow, strappy housedress lying at the foot of the bed. She slipped it on and looked down. The thin linen material was sheer, her nipples clearly outlined. Great. She brought her hair around to the front, and looked down again. Covered. Not that hiding behind her hair and a thin piece of fabric would curb either one of her alpha’s sexual appetites. They were insatiable and voracious. She was counting on that hunger to wrangle them to her way of seeing things. A different hunger had her attention at the moment. Her mouth watered as she headed down the hall toward the kitchen sounds and the delicious scent of food.

For long moments, Falon watched the brothers from where she stood at the end of the hallway. Rafael cooking, Lucien setting the table. A half a dozen empty beer bottles sat neatly lined up on the counter. It made for quite a hunky domestic scene. Her blood warmed. Was it remotely possible they could work this crazy idea she had out? Time would tell, but she didn’t have a lot of that commodity. By the next full moon, just around the corner they needed to be united in every way possible to prepare for the rising the following month. The thought of all that they could accomplish boggled her mind. But she swallowed hard when she thought of her father. And what it meant to the two men she loved.

If they loved her as much as they professed, would it matter? Could love trump nearly a thousand years of persecution? The death of their parents? Her belly soured and suddenly she was no longer hungry. She would not survive being abandoned by either Lucien or Rafael for something over which she had no control. Nor could she survive being despised by them with every fiber of their being.

It mattered. Their hatred for Thomas Corbet was part of who they were, what they were, and what drove them each day. Falon forced herself to calm her nervous stomach. She needed to focus on how she was going to get herself out of this damn mess. Kill her father of course. And in doing so, destroy all doubt in Lucien’s and Rafael’s minds that she was a part of him.

Turning her attention back to what gave her pleasure, Falon stared at the brothers. It was good to see them so comfortable with each other. They had an unspoken easiness about them. It was uncanny how much alike they were yet how different—Rafael, controlled, methodical; Lucien, out of control but so passionate about what he did, it made up for his lack of self-control.

Falon smiled as her thoughts shifted to more primal things—like the night in the pond. It had been perfect. Her primordial soul craved it again. It had been the sexiest most amazing moment in her life. Could it be again in their real world? Here, in the huge bed she woke up in? Was it even possible to convince these two proud men that they both belonged to her? She wanted it so badly. She would find a way to make them want it, too.

She caught her breath, and in that instant Rafael and Lucien became aware of her. And the minute they sensed her presence their entire demeanor changed. They bristled possessively, and made straight for her.

She shook her head, raising her hands to stop them.

“Stop, both of you now.” They did as she commanded.
Wow, would miracles never cease?
Letting out a long breath, she moved between them and as Lucien who was closest to her pulled out a chair, she sat down at the table.

“I haven’t eaten in days. I’m still exhausted. So right now, I’d like to eat in peace, then get a bath and then, maybe talk.”

“I cooked some venison,” Rafe said.

“That I hunted,” Lucien added.

Falon mentally snickered. “You’re both amazing.” She didn’t dare look at either one of them for fear one would get jealous she didn’t look at him first. So instead she looked around the spacious great room/kitchen, and asked, “Where are we?”

“A cabin just south of the Washington border,” Lucien said.

“What about the owners?”

“When we were scoping out the area, we heard them talking about their plans to head out to Spokane last night,” Rafe explained. “For a week. That should be time enough for you to—do what you need to do.”

That was one anxiety she didn’t have to deal with. Wondering if the owners were going to come home to the wolf version of the
The Three Bears
.

“I think I should be okay in a day or two. I just feel completely depleted.”

Rafe served her up a huge plate of rare venison. “This should help.”

She devoured it in minutes and when she licked her fork wanting more, she looked up to find both alphas’ eyes on her. Lucien’s lips quirked at the corner, and Rafael’s eyes danced in amusement.

“Excuse me, but I was hungry,” she said delicately.

Rafe slid his untouched plate across the table to her. “Have mine, Falon.”

Shaking her head, she pushed it back toward him. “You need to eat, too.”

“There’s an entire deer left, Falon.” He slid the plate back under her nose. The delicious scent wafted temptingly up to her. She dug in and ate, this time slower as she savored the seasoned meat.

Rafe and Lucien ate heartily and as she watched them under an appreciative eye, she smiled to herself. There were no vegetables or bread, just meat. Typical guy fare.

“So tell me about this sword,” she said in between bites.

“Gilda said—” Lucien started.

“Whoa, slow down, cowboy. Who’s Gilda?”

“She’s the druid witch that originally gave Fenrir his power,” Rafael explained.

“In exchange for twin souls every century,” Lucien continued.

“I don’t understand, how does she play in to this crazy scenario?” It was getting weirder and more complicated by the minute.

“I was desperate to save you, Falon,” Rafael said, his voice cracking. “I would have done anything to that end. When the gods did not answer me, I called upon that maniacal wolf. I knew he could save you, and he did. For that I am eternally grateful but when he materialized, so did Gilda, and she wanted her souls.”

“Fenrir was eyeing us,” Lucien said. “As payment, but she didn’t want just one century’s worth of souls, she wanted three centuries worth. Fenrir was having none of that, he zapped her and she was gone.”

“Then he restored your life and took off with you. While we were trying to reconcile the shock of it all—” Rafael held up his hand with the Eye on Fenrir. “The ring started to go hot on me again. When I asked myself why, she showed up in the form of a spirit and told me I still held the power. She was pissed Fenrir killed her, and she told us if we go to where the persecution began, which we think is in Wales or close to the Welsh border, we’ll find the Cross of Caus, the only sword that can kill Fenrir. If we kill him, cut out his heart and hand it over to her, she’ll give us a pass by not taking our souls.”

“So all of that to get a witch off your back?”

“Not just any witch, a druid witch with power we cannot fathom. But more than that, by agreeing to her terms, she gave us what we needed most. The means to destroy Fenrir once and for all. He goes, the Slayers lose their magic, and finishing them off will be a cinch.”

Falon saw the exchange between brothers as if asking if they should tell her everything. “What else happened?”

“Thomas Corbet is alive,” Lucien said.

She gasped, nearly toppling her glass of water. It
was
true!

“He showed up at the dock, Falon. The bastard!” Lucien cursed. Abruptly throwing his napkin on the table, he stood. “He’s as arrogant today as the day he killed my parents. I cannot wait to get my hands on that bastard.”

Rafe nodded. “I will not sleep peacefully until his entire bloodline is dead.”

If she had been mule-kicked in the chest it would have hurt less. Struggling to remain calm was proving impossible.

Lucien stopped his pacing and pulled out the chair he had been sitting in. Turning it around, he straddled it facing Falon. Taking her cold trembling hands into his big warm ones, he said, “He spoke of raising the dead. Slayers, angel face, like our ghost walkers.”

“How will he do that?” she asked, not liking how terrible she felt. She knew she should tell them about her relation to Corbet, but if she did that now, she would lose them both forever. She could not bear it

“I don’t know,” Lucien answered. “But it made me realize that they are real, not a legend.”

Exhaling, Falon squeezed Lucien’s reassuring hands, and let go. She rubbed her head, the sudden ache behind her eyes pounding like an anvil in her forehead. “They spoke to me again, when Fenrir was running with me. They said something about spilling the two bloods where Lycan were born.”

“That would be the northern battleground,” Rafe said.

“Which two bloods?” Lucien asked.

Falon swallowed. Was it her blood specifically? Or would any old Slayer and Lycan blood do?

“I’m not sure.”

“Could it be you, Falon? You possess both bloods,” Lucien speculated.

The heat blanched from her cheeks.

“Mondragon and Vulkasin,” he elaborated.

She nearly passed out with relief. Under no circumstance could she find a way to tell these two men that she loved so desperately that the man who viciously killed their parents was her father. She wanted to deny it to herself. Knowing that Thomas Corbet and her mother had sex and
loved
each other? Dear God, how could Layla lay with him?
Love
him? After what he did? And Corbet? A man like him was not capable of love. Her mother had to hide her from him! He would have kidnapped her or killed her.

“Earth to Falon,” Lucien said softly, lightly shaking her.

She blinked and mentally shook herself. “I—was just shocked to hear about Corbet. Oh, my God. What if he goes after my mother again?” The vision that Fenrir cast of her mother, alone, in the woods flared in her memory banks. Did she know that Falon knew? Is that why she was running away again?

And at that moment Falon hoped she never came back. How could she face her mother? How could she even look at herself in the mirror knowing what she knew now?

She exhaled loudly. And, dear Lord, how fair was it not to tell Lucien and Rafe?

Falon started as the front door slowly opened.

Anja.

“I’ll get my bath now,” Falon said as she slipped from the room grateful for the interruption.

Eight

“YOU COULD HAVE told me you were backtracking, Rafael,” Anja complained sourly as she entered the kitchen. Immediately, her crystal-colored eyes scanned the room. Raising her nose, she sniffed. “She’s here,” she stated unhappily.

“You should be grateful we got her away from Fenrir. Without Falon, we stand no chance of surviving the rising,” Rafael chastised.

Anja imperiously waved her hand as if shooing away a fly. “You give her too much credit, Rafael.”

“You don’t give her enough,” Lucien said from behind her.

Anja turned and smiled at him. “Maybe.”

Rafe took the leather pack with their belongings from her and tossed it onto the granite countertop. “I want you to return to your pack.”

Anja whipped around to face Rafe. “Vulkasin is my pack, and as their alpha’s chosen one I go where he goes.”

Rafe swiped his hand across his face and looked past her to his brother, who stood staring at something that had captured his interest on the ceiling.

I could use a little help here, Lucien,
Rafe said.

Lucien’s gaze lazily dropped from the ceiling to his brother.
And make it easier for you to make a case for Falon? No, Brother, you can count me out on that one.

Anja cannot travel with us!

Why not?

Aside from the fact I don’t want her near Falon, she will slow us down.

Lucien nodded.
True.

“You’re talking about me aren’t you?” Anja accused.

Rafe nodded, and explained, “Where we’re going, you can’t go, Anja. The three of us can travel much faster if we don’t have to continually wait for you.”

“Oh, bullshit, Rafe!” she exclaimed. “It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with
her
! You two want that selfish bitch just like you had her in the pond!”

When Rafael neither claimed nor denied her accusation, she insisted, “I saw it, Rafe! I saw how you and your brother made love to her at the same time! And, Rafael, I watched you watch your brother and her after.”

Rafe ignored Anja and looked at Lucien. He’d had guilt about it then, but he didn’t now. Not when he knew Falon had been and still was rightfully his. His brother’s eyes sparked furiously.

“Lucien, I—”

“Shut up, Rafael. Shut up before I break my promise to Falon, and mop this floor with you.”

Lucien stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Rafe turned back to Anja. He was done arguing with her. “There’s plenty of food—eat, then I want you to meet up with your pack and go north with them.”

Anja moved into him. Her essence was strong; she was fertile and if he took her now, his seed would bear fruit. “Please, Rafael, give me a chance. I’m strong. My line is strong.” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly. “My time is ripe. Make love to me, and tonight our dynasty will begin.”