Blood Law Read Online Free PDF

Slayer!” he roared. “I am jager!
I will cut you down where you stand for your insolence!”
    Visions
of poor, sweet Mr. D begging for his life as these two thugs ripped him to
shreds nearly brought her to her knees in anguish. The anguish, however, made
her stronger. It fueled the rage in her. It gave her the will to see if that
small jolt of power had been real and if she could do it again. She leaned
forward, as if pressing against a great wind, when in truth it was the force of
Conan’s will she battled. Concentrating, she pulled the furious energy swirling
around her inward, until it was pulsing inside her chest like a fireball. In
one Herculean surge, Falon flung her hands forward with her last ounce of
strength, expelling the buildup. And it was enough to nudge Conan the jager
aside.
    She
bolted for the front door.
    Conan
cursed, and his mad aura took the form of a steel blade that speared her from
behind. Searing jabs of heat pierced her skin. This time, however, the pain was
more than mental.
    Her
skin split open.
    Blood
erupted from the wound. She felt the warm rivulets drip down her back.
    He
followed with another sharp slice of heat, this time cutting through the black
leather of her left boot and across her ankle. Falon howled in agony.
Stumbling, she zigzagged awkwardly through the store. The front door was only a
few feet away. If she could . . . just . . . get . . . to it—
    Another
searing shot of heat cut across the back of her ankle, severing her Achilles
tendon. She screamed again and fell face-first, sprawling onto the hard
linoleum floor. Blood, warm and slippery, pooled around her, preventing her
from getting the traction she needed to crawl to the doors.
    Hard
footsteps thudded behind her. She focused, pushing the agony from her mind, and
concentrated solely on escape.
    Deep
laughter infiltrated her focus. Large hands grabbed her by the hair and pulled
her up. “You cannot outrun your destiny, Slayer.”
    Falon
closed her eyes. With every cell in her tattered body, she channeled her rage
and mentally forced a harsh shot of pain into her captor.
    He
yelped, his hands loosening. She watched his dark eyes widen, then narrow. His
face morphed into something so disturbing she thought she’d lose control of her
bodily functions. When he opened his mouth, long sharp teeth glinted under the
fluorescent lights. “You will learn, Slayer, I am jager, and as such, I own
you.”
    He
lowered his face to her chest but kept his gaze on hers. “Now,” he hissed, “we
will become a part of the other. The next time you lash out to inflict injury
on me, you will also inflict it on yourself!”
    “No,”
she screamed, thrashing against him.
    “Don’t
fight me—” he growled just as the front doors of the small grocery slammed
open. A harsh, hot wind chaotically swirled inside, swooshing across Falon’s
face, lifting her hair in a spiraling torrent before sending items from the
surrounding shelves flying across the aisles and crashing to the floor.
    Conan’s
head jerked up, eyes narrowing as if catching sight of an enemy. “Take care of
him, Barrak,” he growled furiously to his flunky. Blondie stepped forward.
Before he took another step, he screamed and went flying across the top of
three aisles before crashing onto the floor.
    “Still
picking on little girls are you, Viktor?” a deep masculine voice sneered.
    Falon
tried to raise her head to see who was speaking, but Conan’s gaze snapped back
to hers at the same time he shoved her down. His eyes glinted with a
preternatural shine, warning her off. Despite his superior strength, she felt a
shift in his body and energy at the other’s presence. Falon forced her head up
to get a look at what caused the satanic bastard such anxiety.
    For
the brief span of several heartbeats, she could not breathe. She could not have
uttered a single syllable had her life and the fate of the free world depended
on it. Fierce gold flashes of energy snapped and popped