Taken by Moonlight

by Violette Dubrinsky

  “Brennus, you forget yourself!” Zahira chastised, straightening her back as her cold brown eyes warned him. “Brennus does not speak for the rest of us.”

  “He does not,” Verity added in a calm voice. Like Zahira, Verity’s hair was streaked with gray, and she had a cool elegance about her that spoke to her years of living as a noblewoman in various European countries.

  Conall held his breath, intent on reminding Brennus that he was alpha of the pack, that he’d been the one to establish Elders as advisors, that he did not need their acceptance to select a mate. While their approval was wanted, it was not necessary. He nodded once, feeling the retraction of claws that had sprouted after Brennus’s statement. He closed his eyes and twisted his head, first to the left, then to the right in an attempt to relieve his tension.

  “Vivienne was raised human. She recently learned of her heritage, and about the existence of other species.”

  “How do you know she won’t expose us? You say she was raised human? There is too much of a risk.” Brennus stopped when Conall’s eyes flashed yellow before bleeding to their human blue. The Elder made an angry noise in the back of his throat but held his tongue.

  “When will we meet her?” Zahira asked, swiftly changing the subject and taking Conall’s attention from Brennus. She knew Conall well enough to know that the alpha was close to losing his temper, and a lost temper meant a fight, possibly between Brennus and Conall. Since she’d been in the pack, she’d never seen a fight between an Elder and an alpha, and she didn’t care to see one in her lifetime.

  “As soon as I can guarantee her safety,” Conall replied immediately. When most of the Elders simply looked confused, he added, “Vivienne and her twin are being tracked by Maximilian Cronin’s covenant. Cronin believes that sacrificing them will bring the druids back and reinstate his immortality.” He looked at every face gathered, from Brennus, who sat farthest to his left, to Zahira, seated the farthest to his right. “Vivienne is my mate in all things but one: the ceremony. Human, druid, witch, it does not matter. She is my mate and I will protect her from any and all threats.”

  “It is only natural that you do,” Verity replied, which gained nods of approval from all but Brennus and Gresham.

  The topic shifted to the Council meeting that had been called and Conall told the Elders what Sloan had told him. He left out the part concerning Cronin’s potential involvement with the meeting, wanting to be certain of it first. By seven o’clock, most of the Elders had filed out of his office. Zahira remained where she was, staring at him with all-seeing eyes.

  “Yes?” Conall asked, rolling his shoulders. The tension was still there. “You’ve always had a temper, Conall, but never like this.”

  She earned a glare for her honesty. Zahira brushed that off with a little smile.

  “I haven’t slept,” he began gruffly, an attempt to explain his short leash to the woman he viewed with maternal affection.

  Zahira chuckled and stood. “Slept? You think your temper has something to do with sleep?” She approached his desk and he lifted his head to stare up at her. Zahira did not look a day past forty, with her smooth, golden complexion and vivid eyes. “Your wolf is uneasy because while you have staked your claim on a mate, he has not.” She paused and waited for those words to sink in. “I will begin the preparations for a mating ceremony, if only to keep the heads from rolling.”

  She smiled, which let him know she was teasing, before turning and walking from the room.

  ***

  Vivienne awoke in a new body.

  She looked the same, she’d checked her mirror to make sure, but everything just felt drastically different. When she’d placed her feet to the floor after waking up, she’d almost purred. She could feel every bumpy ridge of the soft carpet. Even the little fibers tickled her toes. And as her stomach grumbled and twisted, she’d inhaled deeply, finding that although in her bedroom, many feet away from the kitchen, she knew exactly what her mother had prepared for breakfast.

  It was then she began experimenting. She focused her attention on her other senses, finding that if she tried hard enough, she could hear random conversations, probably of the people outside her house. An image of two bouncers from Fangs entered her mind as she remembered zoning in on their conversation and hearing them. Her eyes followed suit. From her position against the opposite wall of her medium-sized bedroom, she could make out a pencil dot on the other wall. Better yet, she could see it in different sizes. Her eyes were working like magnifying glasses.

  That, along with the odd things that had happened as she was in the bathroom, would definitely take some adjusting to. She’d been hitting the bottom of the shower gel bottle, hoping that there was at least a pearl of body wash inside, and growing quite frustrated, when the bottle suddenly pitched from her hand. She didn’t throw it nor did she drop it. It just flew from her hand and spiraled into the trashcan. And then there was the matter of her dropping her plate. She’d closed her eyes, expecting the loud crash and pain of dish shards hitting her lower foot. When there was no sound, she opened her eyes to find the dish hovering inches away from the floor. After she shrieked and stepped away, the dish fell to the floor, cracking along the middle.

  “How are you feeling?” Evelyn asked later in the day.

  Vivienne shrugged her shoulders. Physically, she felt fine. Mentally, she was still getting adjusted to it all. She’d awoken with the intention of going to work today, and then she’d remembered that life as she knew it was officially over. No more normal. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d been told that she was a druid, and witches were out to get her, and then there was Conall. She knew he’d been in her bed last night. As soon as she woke up, she smelled him on her sheets. Her eyes had been closed, arms reaching for him, before she realized what she was doing. Her reaction was immediate, instinctive. She remembered him calling her his mate. He’d mentioned them belonging to each other. What did that even mean?

  She shook her head and settled for answering the questions she understood.

  “Everything is…sensitive. My ears, my eyes, my skin.” She paused and rubbed her arms through the woolen sweatshirt that she wore. “If I focus, I can hear conversations outside. Strange things have also been happening. A bottle flew from my hand, and the plate just now.” Her mother had witnessed the plate in silence.

  “This is all very normal, ma chère,” Evelyn assured her before asking curiously, “How far can you hear? Can you hear to the end of the block?”

  Their home in Scarsdale was the last house on their block. It looked up the street at all others and marked the end for those drivers thinking there was elsewhere to go.

  Vivienne closed her eyes. It was hard to mentally picture where the end of the block was, but after some seconds of concentration, she finally picked up on a conversation about two dogs. Something told her there were two women with small dogs, standing at the corner having that conversation.

  “Two women, older women, talking about their dogs.”

  She opened her eyes to find Evelyn nodding in wide-eyed fascination at her. “Mrs. Knox and her sister. They walk their dogs at this time every day. It seems as if you have the senses of a were, Vivienne,” she explained to Vivienne’s unasked question. “The druids were masters at spells and matters of the mind but the weres have always had the dominion of the senses.” She paused. “The incidents you mentioned: the bottle flying from your hand and the plate hovering above the ground, you are doing it, ma puce. Druids have always been able to circumvent spells to move things with their minds. I’m not sure but I think when you dropped the plate, your body reacted to protect you, hence the hovering.”

  When Vivienne simply stood there, stunned by this information about her newly acquired powers, Evelyn said, “There is much to teach you and little time.” She clasped her hands behind her back and looked away from Vivienne’s searching gaze. “I am sorry, Vivienne, for keeping this part of your heritage from you. I thought that perhaps you would be able
to live a human life with a human husband and never know, at least for some time. I didn’t think. I’m sorry….” She trailed off with an apologetic, uncertain smile. “Sit down, ma chère.” As Vivienne moved over to the breakfast table and took a seat, a large book suddenly materialized in Evelyn’s hands. Dark brown and worn, it looked like a relic from another time. Taking a seat opposite her, Evelyn placed the it on the table.

  “This was my mother’s book of spells, given to her by her mother.”

  Evelyn pressed a delicate hand atop the relic before opening it. It immediately went to the middle page. Vivienne stared down at the page. It was blank. Her eyebrows lifted in her mother’s direction.

  “First, I will teach you to hide your powers.” Evelyn touched a finger to the page and the neat, cursive writing slowly began to bleed into it, until it was a bold black. Vivienne tilted her head and stared from the newly appeared writing to her mother’s face.

  She was ready to learn.

  ***

  After an intense day of learning and relearning spells and incantations, Vivienne was finally able to sit on the porch steps, as she’d done countless times in the past, and relax. After a few unsuccessful tries at hiding her powers, she’d succeeded, and it was for that reason Evelyn allowed her onto the porch. Not only was the house protected, but Vivienne could shield herself. She’d also learned a spell that could take her from the porch to the living room in a matter of milliseconds, though not without a feeling of nausea.

  She sat alone, as Max and Drew had returned to the apartment to search through the mess. She hoped her mother’s jewelry was still there. Evelyn hadn’t mentioned it, but she knew how much her mother prized those pieces.

  Her legs hung down before her, encased in skinny jeans that still fit—unsurprisingly—as the cold wind whipped her hair about her face. It was a chilly day. She didn’t mind though. She was actually beginning to understand Cassie’s fascination and obsession with all things nature. It wasn’t so bad: the sounds, the smells, the feeling of the sparse sunlight on her skin.

  She’d just closed her eyes, tossed her head back, and leaned against her elbows, basking in the day, when her entire body went on the alert. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking around for—she didn’t know what.

  A black SUV was heading in her direction. Her spine stiffened, but she remained as she was. It stopped directly before their house and the window rolled down. Conall. She didn’t think it was possible to tense up and relax at the same time but that was exactly what she did.

  Beautiful.

  It was a whispered caress in her mind that sent little electric shocks across her skin. A look of horror entered her eyes as she recognized the new strength of her attraction. Yes, the man did wicked things to her body, but he was usually standing near her to instigate a reaction. One word and her body reacted as if he stroked her.

  Thank you. You’re in my head again.

  She was slowly getting the hang of being a druid, but she didn’t think she’d grow accustomed to him or anyone just popping up in her thoughts.

  Would you like me to stop? It had to be his voice, because that statement was in no way erotic, yet the tell tale signs of her growing warm were beginning to start within her body.

  Y-yes. Thank you. Even Vivienne acknowledged that this seemed too formal a conversation to be having with the man who’d done wickedly delicious things to her not two nights ago.

  There was no reply. He continued to stare at her. Vivienne zoned in on his face. She almost gasped by what she saw in his eyes. Want, need, desire. Conall was staring at her like she was a particularly tasty treat, and he wanted to eat her all up. Pronto.

  She heard a slight growl in her mind that served to confirm what she was thinking, and shuddered. Blinking rapidly, she swallowed and crossed her legs, before uncrossing them. She’d been out here for a while; her mother was probably ready to teach her something else.

  Are you going to run?

  The window went back up and the door opened. Conall stepped down. He’d changed his clothing and now wore a black leather jacket that stopped at his waist, loose navy jeans, and dark boots. He leaned back against the truck as a devilish smile touched his lips.

  Vivienne slowly came to her feet.

  I’m not running from anyone, especially you. That was the defiant part of her speaking but instinct told her to turn around and sprint back inside. So what, the sun had not yet gone down, so what the neighbors could see them…something in his stance, in the way he looked at her, told her he didn’t give a damn.

  Really? Pity…I want you to.

  Before she could fully think through her decision, her body turned and sprinted for the door. A rush of adrenaline she’d never felt poured through her veins and triumph soared through her when her fingers grazed the doorknob. That was all they did. Graze it. As soon as she tasted victory, she felt him behind her. She was still moving forward, intent on pushing the door in, when he spun her around and pulled her against him.

  “You’re fast.” His breath caressed her lips and she found herself licking them as she struggled to control her breathing. His eyes were drawn to her tongue as it snaked out, and remained on her lips when she was finished. “Very fast. But not as fast as me.”

  Captured as she was, at his mercy, only an impish devil could have made her say, while snaking her hands up his chest to grab his jacket, “Not yet.”

  His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her flush up against his heat. Conall’s eyes flashed yellow and Vivienne was reminded of the creature she’d seen him morph into. Hours ago, that might have freaked her out enough to push away from him, but something had changed. She was being driven purely by instinct, and she found herself entranced by the color.

  She licked her lips again, and Conall’s head swept down. As soon as his lips touched hers, she moaned and gave him further access. His tongue was heaven, caressing, possessing. She shuddered, holding on the lapels of his jacket as her body began to burn. Thousands of flames danced across her skin as her blood boiled. Her hands snaked around his neck to pull him closer—as close as they could get through layers of clothing.

  His hands moved down to her buttocks as he pressed her firmly against his stiff erection. Vivienne whimpered then, rubbing against him in frustration, before opening her eyes and noticing, with her heightened vision, that a few of the neighbors were staring directly at them.

  “Is that the judge’s daughter?” Someone was saying.

  “Probably the tree-hugging one—what was her name again? She’s always been the wilder of the two. I wonder if her father knows….”

  Mortification made her put space between their bodies, but she was too far gone to stop. She looked into his eyes, found herself lost in them. Grabbing his hand, she pushed the door open and pulled him through.

  Her eyes and ears did a quick scan of the foyer before she shoved him against the door, and launched at him. Her tongue dueled his, she gyrated with uncontrollable need, until he spun them so that she was against the door and he was the aggressor. She released a frustrated growl as he nipped at her lips while maneuvering his hands under her layers of clothing to caress her sensitive skin. His hands suddenly disappeared and she whined briefly until she recognized he was tugging the zipper of her jacket down. She wore a long sleeved NYU-Track and Field shirt and a sports bra underneath. His hands were under the shirt and had settled over the elastic material covering her breasts when the doorbell sounded.

  They might have been able to ignore that, as caught up as they were, but what followed was a barrage of desperate thumps to the door that had Vivienne shrieking and Conall pivoting them away. As she stood behind him, rearranging her clothes, he approached the peephole and looked through.

  “Mom! Dad!” Cassie’s slightly hysterical voice came through the door.

  Vivienne immediately stepped in front of Conall and pulled the door open. Cassie stood there, her hair pulled away from her pinched face. “Cassie?”

 
; “Viv, what are you doing here?”

  Reaching forward, Vivienne hugged her close, glad her sister was safe. Although her mother hadn’t mentioned anything about Cassie today, Vivienne knew that Evelyn had gone upstairs to use whatever powers she could to locate Cassie.

  Cassie sighed and placed her chin against Vivienne’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I might as well tell you, too.”

  “Tell me what?” Vivienne asked in confusion, stepping back so that Cassie could enter the house. As soon as she stepped through, she closed the door behind her and braced her against it.

  “Where’s Mom? Dad? I think they’ll want to be here to hear this,” she muttered, shaking her head and rolling eyes that, on closer inspection, looked bloodshot.

  “Mom’s upstairs. Dad’s in Maryland.” When she’d asked her mother about her father being incommunicado, she’d found out that her great-aunt was ill.

  Cassie’s eyes narrowed, and her brows pinched. “Maryland?”

  “Aunt Sophie is ill. Did something happen to you? Are you sick?” Vivienne interrupted, staring at her sister for any tell tale signs of a problem. She thought that perhaps the people chasing her had gotten to Cassie but her twin was acting too normal, although still in the strange category of normal, to have encountered trackers.

  “Cassandre!” Evelyn came down the staircase quickly, rushing over to Cassie and pulling her into her arms. She clasped both hands to Cassie’s cheeks and said, “Ma chère, you must answer your phone. That is why I purchased it for you.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I was busy, and then I was—I—” She broke off suddenly as her gaze lifted and landed on something behind Vivienne. “Who are you?”

  “Conall,” he replied, obviously unaffected by the bluntness of the question.

  Vivienne felt her face flush. He was her, oh God, how to describe him. Conall was…Conall. He’d called her his mate, and she didn’t really know what the word meant, although just moments before, she’d almost ripped off his clothing and satisfied both of their hungers. She forced a smile, hoping her sister would leave it alone, but Cassie did no such thing.