As she leaned against Conall’s shoulder and closed her eyes, she thought of Maximilian Cronin. He’d sent his people after Max, her mother, and her sister. God only knew what he’d already done to Evelyn and Cassie. She shuddered against Conall and his arm tightened around her.
The voices in her head, the ones she’d come to accept as part of her druid, whispered to her. Why should she wait for him to come to her?
Stepping back from Conall, she opened her eyes. He inhaled sharply, and Vivienne knew why. She was seeing red once more. No doubt, her eye color had shifted to it.
“Where is his covenant?” Even her voice sounded different. She didn’t care at the moment. She had to find her mother and her sister. Outside of her father, and now Conall, they were the only family she had. She would not let Maximilian Cronin hurt them. Not if she could prevent it.
***
Kyros stared at the young warlock as he tried unsuccessfully to heal the human. She was beyond healing. He could even smell the onset of death. It wafted around the sheet-wrapped body like an ominous cologne. The woman had at least ten bone fractures, an assortment of internal tears, and many bruises. It was a miracle she was still alive.
Over an hour ago, he’d projected them to one of his safe houses in the city. It was a tiny apartment, with barely two small bedrooms, an equally tiny living room/kitchen, and a bathroom. For all its lackluster components, it was the safe house with the most spells and charms. Maximilian would not be able to find them here, at least, not for a few days, maybe even weeks, and by that time, he intended to be far from New York. When Maximilian had imprisoned him, what he now knew to be six months ago, he’d only been in New York because he’d heard of a hidden warlock community in the city. They were said to be a group of refugees, in a sense, who’d found a way to each other. It reminded him of an old fashioned warlock covenant, something he’d hadn’t seen in existence since the witches began mass-murdering his people, and he’d been curious.
Unfortunately, the same time he’d been researching the community, Cronin’s trackers had been doing the same, and unlike him, they were prepared to go up against warlocks. Their numbers had been large, their weapons specifically designed to hold warlocks. He and another had been captured, but most of the community had managed to escape. For that, he’d been grateful. At least some warlocks had escaped the clutches of these bloodthirsty witches!
Max suddenly pushed himself away from the bed on which the dying woman lay, and turned haunted eyes to him.
“Help her,” he said in a voice that was so low Kyros barely heard it.
“Max, she’s dying. If she were a warlock, we would be able to help.”
“She will not die,” Max said in a calm and firm voice. “I won’t let her die.” The young warlock turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, beside the woman. Kyros watched as he reached into a bowl filled with a soft towel and water. He wrung out the towel and lightly pulled it across the human’s face. He knew Max couldn’t remember her. Whatever had been done to his memory seemed permanent. Max remembered the most basic of things, especially if he did them again, but his memory was deeply fragmented. Still, the warlock was acting like the woman on the bed before him was his lover.
In all the centuries Kyros had been alive, he’d never seen anyone care for another to such an extent. Especially between the species. Even as a hybrid, Max would not be expected to take up with a human.
“There is something that can be done,” he heard himself say before he could think better of it.
Max turned to him quickly, and nodded.
“It will call for great sacrifice, Max.”
“Will she live?”
Kyros lowered his eyes, contemplating telling Max to forget about it, that it shouldn’t even be considered, but when he lifted his eyes, and saw the hope shining in Max’s, he nodded once.
“Then do it,” Max said, standing quickly. “Whatever it is, do it. Please.”
“I can’t do it,” Kyros began slowly. He told Max what would have to be done. Max’s face blanched but he looked at the woman, who’d all but stopped breathing, and nodded once.
Kyros looked to the clock on his wall. It was just after six in the evening. Moving into the living room, he picked up the phone and dialed a number that had not changed in many years.
“Hello?” The voice was deep, smooth and compelling. It spoke of a cultured upbringing, fine wine, designer apparel, and luxury toys, a world to which Kyros had only briefly been exposed.
“I’m calling in my favor.”
There was a whisper of movement, a quick intake of breath. “Kyros Theopolis? I thought you’d gone back to Greece.”
“The truth is far worse.” And it was. Not that he would ever tell where he’d actually been. “Will you receive me tonight?”
There was a pause, and then the voice answered good-naturedly, “When have I not received you, cousin?”
***
“You are a beauty, aren’t you?”
Cassie closed her eyes and tried once more to project herself out of this dark, creepy place, away from the equally dark and creepy man before her. It didn’t work.
Maximilian laughed. “Nothing short of death will allow you to escape those chains, Cassandre. They were created especially for the druids, to punish them for their misbehaviors.” He fingered one of the golden bindings. “Chains of Hera. A gift from a goddess jealous of her lover’s fornication with man. Only three currently exist, and I have them all.”
Cassie resisted the urge to spit at him. She didn’t care about stupid chains, and jealous goddesses.
“Where is my mother?”
“Ah. Evelyn and I have…unfinished business,” he replied with an evil gleam in his eyes.
She went cold at those words. Cassie could sense the aura around Maximilian Cronin, and it was mostly evil. Greed. Power. Deviance. They all clung to him like second skins.
“If you hurt my mother….”
His brow lifted, and a mocking smile touched his lips. “What will you do, Cassandre? If I hurt your mother, what exactly can you do?”
He paused as if waiting for her answer, and Cassie focused hard and tried to call her powers once more. Nothing. She felt as she had before she’d discovered her druid heritage, before she’d been taught to use her powers: human.
“I already warned you of that, Cassandre. Those chains are powerful. They render druids powerless. Hera was particularly vicious when it came to your people. I guess she didn’t like the reminder that her husband was unfaithful. Hell hath no fury like a goddess scorned, eh? I believe she was the reason for the saying, or was it one of her daughters?”
As he languidly contemplated that, Cassie hissed, “What do you want?”
Maximilian chuckled. “I want you to resurrect your people, but you already knew that.”
Yes, she did. What she didn’t know was how the hell he’d found them. The attack had been completely unanticipated. Trackers, dozens of them, entered her room through a bolt hole, with Cronin leading the way. Cassandre had screamed for Evelyn, who’d immediately begun attacking them. Cassie had called on her powers as well, effectively holding them off until her mother arrived and started blasting trackers, and screamed for Cassie to run. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but Evelyn had been adamant. So adamant that somehow her mother had projected Cassie into the hallway. From there, she’d followed her mother’s command, and run.
“How did you find us?”
“An old friend came to me in my hour of need. He, too, is anxious for the druids to be resurrected.”
Cassie swallowed. An old friend? Anxious for the druids to be resurrected? A light shiver ran over her body.
“Who?”
Maximilian’s eyes narrowed, before he smiled as if he were having the most wonderful time sharing information with her. “Not that it matters, Cassandre, but you’ll soon find out anyway. His name is Alexander—Lord Alexander—” The grand wizard broke off at her look of pain before he clucked h
is tongue and laughed. “So you are acquainted with Alexander? Was that how he knew exactly where you lived? Of course.”
Cassie schooled her features, but she was hurt. She’d trusted a druid she’d been warned against, and now not only she, but Evelyn would suffer for it. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she bit the inside of her cheek. Her mother had been right. Why hadn’t she listened? Because she was stupid! Graduating with honors didn’t mean one had common sense. When had she become one of those girls, fooled by a pretty face?
“Release my mother.” Her voice was lackluster. She just wanted her mother freed. Evelyn had tried to warn her. She shouldn’t be punished.
Maximilian lifted a brow. “And why would I want to do that?”
“Release my mother, and I’ll willingly do whatever you say.”
Lifting his free hand to his chin, Maximilian appeared to contemplate that. “That is an appealing thought, but I think I’ll keep Evelyn, at least, until your sister arrives.”
Cassie immediately began struggling against the chains. Not Vivienne. “You don’t need her, just me.”
“Only you?” Maximilian shook his head. “No, Cassandre, I need you both.”
“No, you don’t need her. If you don’t believe me, ask Alexander. You only need me to resurrect the druids. I have the power. You don’t need her.”
“So, that’s it? You’re a druid of creation, and as your twin—of course: a druid of destruction. Balance must always be maintained.”
Eyes narrowing, Cassandre watched him, saw his eyes churn with the knowledge. Had he not known that before?
“Look, I’ll make a deal with you.” Cassie tried again, desperate now. “Release my mother, and leave Vivienne out of this, and I’ll resurrect the druids willingly.”
“Leave your sister out of this?” Maximilian repeated with a raised brow. “I need your sister as much as I need you, Cassandre.”
She shook her head. “She doesn’t have the power to resurrect druids. You don’t need her.”
“Your sister will help me with something else.”
“What?”
He smiled and replied, “You’ll soon find out.”
Tired of his vague statements, Cassie was preparing to curse him out when a tracker suddenly appeared behind Maximilian.
“Everything is ready, my lord.”
“Have all of the necessary calls been made?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Very good.”
The tracker vanished into thin air, and Cassie looked back to Cronin. When she continued to stare at him without speaking he asked, “Are you curious to know what is happening?”
“Does it include you either releasing my mother or dying?”
His eyes narrowed, and the smirk faded, before he visibly calmed himself. “We’ll be taking a trip soon. Think of it as a family reunion of sorts. You know, if your grandmother had accepted me, you would be my grandchild.”
That thought seemed to fascinate him about as much as it sickened her. “Thank God she had taste, right?”
Maximilian’s lips thinned and he looked down his nose at her. Cassie held his gaze and smirked. He headed to the far corner of the cell, where a door was concealed.
“Your sister is probably searching for you as we speak. She should arrive in a few hours, at maximum a day. Until that time, make yourself comfortable, Cassandre.” He indicated the cot next to her. “You’ll find I am an accommodating man when I choose to be.”
She doubted he did anything unless he had something to gain from it. When he disappeared, she shivered. The cell was freezing, and she was wearing one layer of clothing. The long-sleeved shirt was thin, and her sweat pants provided a small modicum of warmth.
Leaning against the stone wall, she closed her eyes and prayed silently that Vivienne would not search her out. Something told her her unwitting revelation of Vivienne’s true nature had just given Maximilian a new reason for wanting her sister.
***
Max released a quick breath after Kyros flashed them from his apartment to a large, mosaic hallway outside of a cherry-wood double door. Drew was in his arms, her breath faint, her heart rate slow, but steady.
Kyros knocked rapidly, and waited. The door was pulled open by a pale man, who looked directly at Kyros before stepping aside. Max followed Kyros through a penthouse suite littered with other pale creatures, up a staircase, and then down another hall. There was another set of double doors, this one black wood with golden handles, which Kyros pushed open and entered.
He stepped in behind Kyros, tightening his grip ever so slightly on Drew. The room was large and dimly lit, with a few candles illuminating the space, and an array of dark-hued furniture. In the corner, against the wall, was a tall, wing-back chair, and in it, a book in his hand, was a man. As soon as Kyros entered, the man looked up, closed the book, and stood. He was tall, pale and lean, with long dark hair pulled back, and a welcoming look on his face.
“Kyros,” he said immediately, but paused as his vision caught Max and the woman in his arms. Dark eyes narrowed, and he demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”
“I told you on the phone, Lucian. I’ve come to call in my favor.”
“Yes, the favor that is owed to you. Why have you brought a human here?”
“She is the favor,” Kyros responded in a low voice.
Drew moaned in his arms, and Max looked down. She was fading fast.
When Max next looked up, Lucian stood before him, glaring down at both him and Drew. Instinctively, Max took a step back, which only curled the vampire’s lips up in an expression that was in no way a smile. A smirk, perhaps, or a challenge.
“Who are you?”
“Max Cronin.”
“He is a friend, Lucian.”
Recognition flashed in those dark eyes. “Of any relation to the grand wizard of the same name?”
Max thought only briefly before he answered, “No.” He would claim no relation to the man who’d done this to Drew. His mind was still fragmented when it came to her, but he knew he must have felt deeply for her. That was the only way his instincts could be so possessive, so protective, when it came to her.
Lucian’s eyebrows lifted a fraction, and he looked down at Drew. He sniffed, and his expression was of pure disgust when he turned to face Kyros. “What favor can you wish me to perform on a dying human?”
Kyros looked to Max, and Max understood the warlock was giving him one more chance to change his mind. He nodded once, and clutched Drew tighter to him.
“I want you to change her.”
Lucian’s answer was immediate. “No.”
“You gave me your word, Lucian.”
“No!” The vampire’s previously serene face was now a mask of anger. “It is against our laws, Kyros. Choose something else.”
“Since when have you cared for laws, Lucian?”
“Things have changed in the years you haven’t seen me, cousin. To change a human would be to break the sacred laws I have sworn to uphold.”
Kyros said nothing in the face of such opposition, and Max felt fear course through him. He looked to Drew. Without asking for permission, he walked over to the blood-red sofa, and gently laid her down. She didn’t even protest. The only movement of her body was the rolling of her eyes under their lids. He sat next to her, placing a hand lightly to her cheek.
“I’ve broken sacred laws too, Lucian,” Kyros returned. “Or have you forgotten? I’ve done things on your behalf that—”
“I remember, Kyros,” Lucian answered, cutting off whatever the warlock was going to say. “I remember well.”
Max felt movement next to him, and looked up to find the vampire standing there. His eyes ran the length of Drew’s body.
“If I do this, we are even, cousin. Every favor I owe you will be considered complete. Do you agree?”
He didn’t see Kyros nod but Max assumed he did, because Lucian nodded.
“It seems you’ve made a good friend, Max Cronin-of-n
o-relation-to-the-grand-wizard.”
Stooping low, Lucian easily swept Drew into his arms. Her head fell backward, exposing her neck, as her broken arm hung limply away from her body. With the bloodied sheet around her, she looked like some type of sacrificial offering.
Max jumped up immediately, and the vampire narrowed his eyes. “Be at ease, warlock.” When Max reeled himself under control, Lucian addressed Kyros. “I will change her. There are no guarantees she will survive it—” he paused and looked briefly to Max “—but I will change her.”
Lucian turned and began walking to the wall.
“When can I see her again?” Max called after the vampire, who did not stop but looked over his shoulder. A vicious little smile curved his lips.
“Kyros has apparently been lax with the information he’s given you. You will never see her again.” And with that, they both disappeared.
Max whirled on Kyros, whose hands were clasped behind his back. “What does he mean?”
“Come, Max. We have to leave.”
“No! What does he mean?”
Sighing, Kyros explained, “Whenever a human is changed to vampire, she is removed from everything familiar to her. It is to ease the transition, and create bonding into her new coven.”
Max nodded, slowly absorbing that information. “But she will live?”
“If she survives, she will live as one of them,” Kyros clarified. “Lucian is one of the most powerful of his people. Her chances of survival are greater with him.”
“That’s good.” Max’s heart hurt.
Kyros’s hand landed briefly on his shoulder. “We have both been severely weakened, Max. Come, we both need to feed.”
Nodding, he followed the warlock from the room. He could never see Drew again, never seek her out to ask her what they’d shared in the past. Somehow, he had to accept that.
Taken by Moonlight Page 38
