“What’s your relationship to Cronin?”
The smile faded and her eyes hardened. “Relationship?” she asked in a calm, quiet voice. “The only relationship I have to Maximilian Cronin is the grudge I hold against him for murdering my parents and threatening my family.”
“Were you a part of his covenant?”
Evelyn scoffed at that. “Never. If I were, one of us would be dead.” She paused and moved back over the stove, where the cover of a pot was bouncing as the contents began to boil. She tilted the lid ever so slightly before turning to face him once more. “What’s your interest in our relationship?”
Conall leaned against the island. He wasn’t certain, but he’d learned centuries ago to trust where his instincts led.
“Someone called a Council Meeting for Saturday. It might be one of the witches.”
Evelyn’s nostrils flared. “Cronin? Over my daughters?”
He nodded. From what Sloan had told him, he was almost certain that one of the witches had called the meeting, and with the events that had taken place, instinct was telling him this meeting was somehow related. His mind swirled with the range of possible things that Cronin could claim in an attempt to get Vivienne. One thing stood out above all others. Kinship. It was one of the laws that every race agreed to abide by.
“So you were never in his covenant?”
She shook her head fiercely. “I was never in his covenant.” She stopped abruptly before rattling off a few French curses under her breath. A brief look of disbelief touched her face before her teeth snapped together. Conall’s ears perked up, knowing she’d recalled something important.
Her teeth were still clenched tightly together, her accent much more pronounced, when she said, “I was never in his covenant but my mother was.”
***
Cassandre groaned when she opened her eyes and found herself staring once more at the blue-green waters of the beach.
After the dream, she’d awoken, late of course, and gone to the lab. It had been a slow day, and by six o’clock, she was leaving for her small, though eco-friendly, SoHo apartment. Despite the ridiculous number of hours she’d slept the night before, she barely managed to drag herself to her bed at nine o’clock and was certain it hadn’t taken more than a few seconds for her to fall asleep. The only question she now had was why was she dreaming about the beach…again?
“Because you’ve yet to learn what I have to teach you.”
She wasn’t one to be scared easily, that was Vivienne, but at that moment, Cassandre understood the meaning of “jumping out of one’s skin.” Her hand flew to her rapidly beating heart as her head turned to the sound of the voice.
Pale eyes and a perfectly formed face stared back at her. She blew out a relieved breath before cutting her eyes at him.
“Don’t do that again.”
He shifted ever so slightly on the bed, removing one hand from behind his blond head, and replied in an even tone, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me. You surprised me.”
Thin lips curled upward and he corrected, “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
She shook her head and allowed her eyes to travel down his body. He was dressed differently this time. Instead of those fitted swim trunks, which she of course hadn’t minded, he wore loose pants that hung a bit low on his hips. His chest was still bare, though she didn’t quite mind that either. Her eyes flew to his face, and she could tell from the raised eyebrows that he knew what she was thinking.
Cassandre blew out a frustrated breath, tugged the thin sheet farther up her body, and stared ahead.
“Why am I still having this dream?” she muttered under her breath. “Better yet, why are you in it?”
Alexander’s laughter, like everything else that came from that man, was beautiful. It started out with a deep rumble, and erupted gracefully from his lips.
“Because you need me as much as I need you.”
If that had been said with any type of sexual reference, she would have jumped from the bed, and begun pinching herself—or so she told herself. But it was said pointedly, as if that were the only possible answer.
“And again, this is not a dream.”
Cassie sighed. She was going to wake up soon and when she did, she was calling her mother and asking her what repetitive dreams meant. Strange. Why did she think to call her mother over the dream? It wasn’t as if Evelyn was particularly superstitious. She’d probably tell Cassandre to stop being paranoid. Her mother, the practical one.
She turned to look at Alexander, “Yeah, okay. If this is not a dream, what is it?”
“This.” The word rolled off of his tongue as he lifted his hands to indicate everything around them. “This is my prison.”
Cassie couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and tossed the thin sheet from her body. Her toes were buried in the warm sand when she looked over her shoulder at him. “Some prison.”
She lifted her gaze skyward, hoping she would perhaps catch a glimpse of some exotic, extinct creature.
“Just because a place is beautiful does not make it any less of a prison.”
“Right,” she dragged that word out and shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you know, just so that I can tell my future shrink about this: I’m not dreaming, I’m in your home, which happens to be your prison, and your name is Alexander.”
“Yes.” The bed shifted. “What do you know of the druids?”
“Ah, shit,” Cassie murmured, shaking her head and running a hand across her face. And now the dream was beginning to make sense. Years after college, and she was still being tortured by her Classics course. It had been called “Celtic Lore” and she’d been bored, and because of said boredom, curious. She’d ended up taking the class, hating the professor who rushed through everything and didn’t seem to know much about anything, and had ended up with an A minus in the class. It wasn’t a bad grade, necessarily, but for the neurotic girl who got straight As in everything, it was unacceptable. “If this is my new way of coping with a grade that doesn’t even matter anymore, I seriously need help.”
He didn’t say anything for a long time and Cassie thought that perhaps he’d disappeared. She looked over her shoulder, viewing the perfectly formed feet of the man next to her. She ended up glaring at his feet. Which guy had perfect feet? Only in dreams!
“So you’re like the new, better looking version of Professor Khan, right?”
“No.” He didn’t elaborate beyond that before repeating, “What do you know about the druids?”
“They’re dead?” she scoffed, and then stood. Stretching her body, she eyed the water. Maybe tomorrow night she’d fall asleep in her bathing suit, and then she could just swim and ignore everything—everyone—else.
She began walking toward the water, deciding she was going to hike her sweats up and walk in the shallow part. Cassie had successfully managed to forget that Alexander was in her dream when he appeared in front of her.
“Shit!” she screeched, backing away so quickly she almost toppled over. His hands steadied her, even as she let loose a stream of profanities that would make her mother blush. Her gaze flew to the now empty bed, and then back to him. It was a dream. Things weren’t supposed to make sense.
“Did your mother tell you about the druids?”
Cassie sighed and shook her head. “And now you’re mentioning my mother…because I haven’t spoken to her in a while, huh?” She looked away from him, feeling guilty as she thought of the days, maybe weeks, that she hadn’t called home. “I’ll call her when I wake up.”
His hands tightened against her arms and she glared at him. His eyes were serious now and she thought that in that moment they were definitely green. An extremely pale green.
“The druids are not dead.” He paused as if expecting her to interrupt. When she didn’t, he continued on. “They were banished, sent to a dismal existence at the pinnacle of death, but not quite there.” When she si
mply stared up at him stupidly, Alexander asked, “Have you ever heard of limbo?”
Her eyes grew hooded. “Limbo?” As in edge of Hell, Catholic-fearing, limbo?
“It is very similar to that limbo.” His arms slowly fell to his sides and Cassie felt a chill snake through her body. She dismissed it as being as result of her standing in the water, even though it was very warm. “They exist on different planes, waiting, watching, unable to choose life and yearning for death.” His voice had dropped an octave and those pale of eyes seemed to glow.
Cassie swallowed. This dream was seriously beginning to unnerve the hell out of her.
“Right. What does this have to do with me?”
“For centuries, the druids have searched for a way back.”
“Way back?”
“To the living,” he clarified. “You are the key to their return.”
Cassie’s head bobbed. It was becoming an automatic reaction in this dream. “Uh huh. So I can bring these druids back to life?”
“Yes.” He lifted his eyes to the sky before returning them to her face. “When the time comes, you’ll have to ask yourself if you want to.”
Cassie couldn’t have looked more confused if she tried.
She blinked then gasped when she opened her eyes and found herself back on the bed. Her feet were dry, the thin sheet was pooled at her waist, and Alexander was next to her. His hands were under his head and one leg was bent at the knee as he stared up at the clear sky.
“I know you’re confused now, but you will understand everything soon.” He suddenly pushed his body up, so that he was braced against the headboard, as she was.
“Before you can make that decision, you must know their story.” Alexander murmured so softly that Cassie had to lean closer to hear him.
“Centuries ago….” When he spoke, it was as if everything listened. The sounds of the beach faded and his voice took their place. She found herself drawn to that voice, hearing the softest syllable roll off his tongue like liquid mercury. Closing her eyes, she witnessed the range of images painted by his voice. As he continued with the story of things that shouldn’t—couldn’t—exist, Cassie found herself deeply interested in what he was telling her.
***
Conall returned to Cedar Creek early the next morning.
He hadn’t slept the night before. Instead, he’d taken to doing hourly sweeps of the house, before stretching out atop the covers next to Vivienne. By the time dawn arrived, the muscles in his back and neck were tense, and he could feel the beginnings of a serious headache. Most weres weren’t particularly friendly after sleepless days and nights. He left Vivienne, still sleeping, only after assuring himself that currently this was the safest place for her at the moment. He would return soon.
The first thing he did upon returning to his house was activate one of the countless Verizon phones he had. Most of his pack had at least one spare phone, in case of emergencies. He’d just plugged the cell phone up to its charger when there was a slight knock. Sloan entered the office. It was sometime after six in the morning but he wasn’t surprised to find his beta awake. He’d found out centuries ago that Sloan disliked sleeping. He was probably the one were Conall had ever met who disliked sleep.
Sloan closed the door and stood before it. When seconds passed with Sloan simply staring at him, Conall snapped, “What?”
The calm expression on his friend’s face never faltered. “The Elders are here. They’re demanding to see you now.”
Conall glared at the clock on the wall. It was six thirty five, to be exact. How did they even know he was here?
“They saw your truck,” Sloan replied, anticipating the question.
He drew in a deep, steadying breath. The headache was growing in intensity and both the human and animal part of him were irritable. Sighing, he sat down in the burgundy leather chair before his desk and tried to calm himself. He would have to face the Elders sometime, and despite the ridiculously early hour, now was as good a time as ever.
“Send them up.” He closed his eyes, feeling Vivienne despite being miles away.
“Are you sure?” Sloan asked quietly. An emotion flickered quickly in those metal-gray eyes before it vanished. Conall recognized concern.
He nodded. “I’ll have to speak with them at some point.”
Sloan nodded and left. By the time the Elders arrived, Conall had managed to grab hold of his temper. He’d leashed it, so to speak, but still it lurked.
“Gentlemen. Ladies,” he acknowledged in greeting, staring at the five ancients who looked for the most part like casually dressed, middle-aged humans, approaching him. Brennus led the way, followed by Gresham, Latriel, Zahira, and Verity. Two had scowls on their faces; the rest wore masked expressions.
“What do you think you’re doing?” That question came directly from Brennus, who glared at him as if he’d done him a personal wrong.
“Please…sit.” Conall waved his hand in the direction of the chairs and sofas that the Elders had bypassed.
Brennus and Greshman ignored him as Latriel, Zahira, and Verity moved to take seats.
“There are laws, ancient laws, that govern us! No one is above the law.” Brennus might have well said “You are not above the law” because the pointed stare he gave Conall after stating it told the alpha all he needed to know.
“Weres do not mate humans! And it is common courtesy to seek the blessing of your Elders when you decide to mate! Our law—”
Latriel made a slight sound that brought Conall’s attention to him. He was glaring at Brennus’s back. He hadn’t had a meeting with the Elders in years, and had forgotten that Latriel was Brennus’s biggest heckler, and vice versa. That thought leashed the temper that was already threatening to come forth.
“It has been done before,” Latriel interjected easily, earning a glare from Brennus. Latriel, who was a few hundred years Brennus’s senior, continued in his droll voice. “Perhaps we should let our alpha speak?”
Brennus looked ready to object, but he eventually took a seat and lifted an arrogant brow at Conall. Gresham followed suit.
“There is no written law against the joining of two different species—”
“Most of our laws are not written, but passed down,” Gresham interrupted.
“That rule was passed down to prevent the unnecessary death of innocent humans.”
“And is your human not innocent?” Brennus challenged snidely.
Conall felt his patience give. The amiable expression fell from his face and his voice was like a whiplash when he said, “Her name is Vivienne.” He paused, waiting to see if Brennus or Greshman would say something—anything—to set him off. They didn’t.
Tearing his eyes away from Brennus, he looked to the other Elders. Zahira, one of the two females, the other being Verity, were staring curiously at him. No one was certain of Zahira’s age as she remembered little of her life before being rescued by her mate’s pack, but one thing was certain: she was strong. She’d been the alpha bitch to her own pack before an attack killed her mate. After, she’d walked alone until she stumbled upon his pack, at that time led by his brother. She’d been staying with them when a larger pack had attacked. Conall had been strong, Gregory had trained him personally, but he’d been young and lacked the stamina of a seasoned warrior. Exhaustion had almost gotten him killed, before Zahira stepped in and viciously killed a wolf twice her size. Gregory repaid her loyalty by offering her a home with them. Since then, she’d never left his side.
“She isn’t human.”
Brennus and Gresham began speaking once more, their voices overlapping each other as they both sought to condemn him for lying to the Elders.
“Do you think we’re fools—”
“—we’ve seen her—”
“She certainly smells human.”
Conall’s fists clenched as his wolf demanded release. His canines lengthened, piercing his tongue, even as he struggled to rein in the beast. What was happening to his control? He
’d done meetings like this countless times, with Brennus being the key agitator, Gresham his cheerleader, but his wolf was always peaceful, bored even.
“Be silent, both of you!” Zahira’s voice was loud and clear. Centuries of living in Europe, and then in the Americas, had wiped out most traces of an Egyptian accent. “He’s still our alpha. Let him speak.” She glared at both Brennus and Gresham before turning to stare expectantly at Conall.
He contemplated what to tell them about Vivienne. While he and the Elders did not always agree, he trusted them.
“My mate,” he purposely used the term while staring at Brennus and then Gresham, “is a druid.”
Silence.
Brennus lifted a questioning brow and Latriel voiced the opinion of the group, “What do you mean, Conall?”
“The druids were banished….” Verity began softly only to trail off and stare at him with the question in her eyes.
“Vivienne was born after the druids were banished. She is one of two existing druids. The other is her twin sister.” From the expressions on their faces, Conall could see the Elders still didn’t understand. Like he had when Evelyn had told him, they were still trying to make sense of his words. To further explain, he added, “Her mother is the descendant of a druid.”
“So…she is a druid?” Brennus questioned, looking doubtful.
Conall nodded.
“Witches,” Gresham muttered in disgust. His eyes were filled with anger, and his hand shook as he lifted it to point at Conall. “You would tie us to the witches?”
“Apparently he would tie us to the druids,” Latriel corrected dryly, earning a look of derision from Gresham and a scowl from Brennus.
He was about to speak when Brennus interjected, “Druids? Witches? It doesn’t matter. They have always been viewed as the same by our people!” He paused and snapped his teeth together. “There was a better chance of us accepting a human than witch!”
“Your acceptance—” Conall began angrily.
Taken by Moonlight Page 19
