Taken by Moonlight

by Violette Dubrinsky

  “And if I won this blood rite? She’d have to keep away from me, right?”

  Sloan’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded once. “If you won, Samia would have to show you her belly, and at that time you can do whatever it is you wish to her.”

  Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “Show me her belly?” She didn’t want to see any naked part of Samia, least of all her belly.

  “A sign of submission,” he clarified.

  “Oh…right,” Vivienne muttered, taking another bite of the toast. As she chewed, she had a vague memory about watching a special on wolves with Cassie. That had been when Animal Planet was Cassie’s god. Vivienne made sure she’d swallowed the mouthful before speaking again. Her mother had raised her in true ladylike fashion. Well, her mother had raised both her and Cassie in that fashion, but she had more of it. “Any more pack laws I should be aware of, Sloan?”

  He seemed to contemplate that and then finally said, “As the situations arise, we will explain them to you.”

  “So there’s nothing I’m absolutely not allowed to do?”

  Sloan began shaking his head. “Yes. You should stay at least ten feet away from every unattached male until the mating ceremony.”

  Vivienne’s brows furrowed. The pack certainly had some strange rules.

  “Is that because their mamas will come after me, fangs bared?” she joked, trying to figure out the logical reason for that rule.

  He shook his head and took a few steps away from her. “No, it’s for their protection.”

  “Their protection?”

  “Yes. You may not recognize it because he would never hurt you, but until the ceremony is completed, Conall will be…feral.”

  “Oh,” was all that she could say. She remembered Conall’s voice when he’d asked about Sloan last night. “Oh.”

  Sloan’s eyes seemed to warm in amusement when he heard the recognition in her voice.

  “Is there anything else you want to know?”

  Vivienne decided then that she liked Sloan. He wasn’t as outgoing or outrageous as Raoul but something told her Sloan was a protector at heart. He’d treated her as he had yesterday because he’d known Samia was going to demand a blood rite. Plus, for a man who didn’t like to speak, he’d just told her more about pack law than anyone else since her arrival.

  “No, that’s all for now. Thanks.”

  Sloan nodded and walked out, and Vivienne turned her attention to the other piece of toast. She’d just polished that one off, and was placing two more slices into the toaster, thinking her sex-marathons with Conall were definitely great for her appetite, when her cell phone began vibrating in her jean pocket. She pushed the lid for the toaster and reached for the phone. It was her mother.

  Vivienne smiled as she flipped the phone open. It was possible Evelyn had instinctive psychic abilities. The woman seemed to always know when her daughter wanted to speak with her.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Have you been having dreams?”

  Vivienne blinked and stared at her phone. That wasn’t how her mother usually greeted her. It was usually, “Hello, ma chère” or “Hello, ma puce” or some other endearment starting with “Hello.”

  “What?”

  “Listen to me, Vivienne. Have you been having dreams? Or have you seen any apparitions lately? Has anything happened that was out of the ordinary?” Her mother’s voice was urgent, and her French accent seemed a bit more prominent.

  “No, I’m not having dreams or seeing ghosts,” she told Evelyn, deciding this was the best time to bring up what had occurred with Samia. “Although, something different…happened yesterday.”

  Evelyn’s breath hitched through the phone and Vivienne rethought telling her mother.

  “Vivienne Henriette Annabel Bordeaux, you tell me everything that happened yesterday!” She might have smiled at the use of her full name if her usually calm mother didn’t sound borderline frantic.

  Vivienne did exactly as her mother demanded, relating the circumstances surrounding her blackout, and waited for her mother to speak.

  “Darkness? That’s all you felt?” He mother paused and Vivienne was about to agree when Evelyn continued in a question-answer way that made her daughter’s brows furrow as she struggled to understand.

  “And you saw red? Anger. And you also felt…powerful? In the face of a threat, those could just be your druid powers coming to your defense. I don’t know about this blackout though. That sounds strange.”

  “Mom, you sounded a bit…erm—?”

  “Distraught?” Evelyn chuckled but it was hollow, and lacked any mirth. “Vivienne, I need you to be aware of your surroundings, always. If you have a dream that seems too real, I want you to project yourself out. Do you remember how to project yourself somewhere else?”

  “Yes, I remember. I didn’t know you could project out of a dream. Wait, what dream are you talking about?”

  “Cassandre has been seeing a druid in her dreams. He’s very powerful, and he’s also evil. His name is Alexander Petraeus and you can recognize him by his pale eyes and blond hair. If he appears to you, you project yourself out of the dream, and if you can’t, force yourself to wake up.”

  Huh? That was literally what went through her mind as Evelyn told her about the dream druid.

  “What? How do I force myself to wake up?”

  Vivienne heard shuffling on the other end, and then her mother said, “Do you remember how to call the spell book?” When she answered in the affirmative, her mother continued, “Call the spell book immediately after you hang up, and memorize the spell that the book opens to.”

  “Why is he so evil?” Curiosity made her ask that question. She knew the druids had been banished for the havoc they wreaked, but her mother made this Alexander guy sound like Satan. Worse than Satan.

  “Because he’s powerful, Vivienne, and he was one of the leaders of the druids. If he can contact Cassandre through her dreams, then he still has control of some of his powers. Learn the spell, ma chère, and be watchful for anything strange around you.”

  It wasn’t the appropriate time for a joke, but as Vivienne heard the last sentence, she vaguely contemplated asking, “How strange?” Everything in Cedar Creek was strange in some way or the other, from the werewolves to the blood rites to the mating ceremonies. Yes, all strange. But she would heed her mother, and be watchful, and if anyone tried to come to her in her dreams, she’d know that spell well enough to get out.

  ***

  Max awoke to pain so intense he grit his teeth together and slammed his fists against the bed. A tortured groan escaped his lips and he rolled to his side, heaving uncontrollably. He tried to open his eyes, but was unsuccessful. When his stomach felt stable enough, he rolled onto his back, grimacing in pain.

  There was a sound somewhere next to him, and he parted his lips, and managed one word: “Water.” Even though his entire body ached, his throat was so dry it felt as if someone had blow-torched it.

  A hand reached under his head and lifted moments before he felt the press of a cool glass to his lips. He drank deeply. Too deeply. He sputtered and ended up choking before he was finally able to better drink the liquid. The glass was removed and he heard a voice, as if far away, ask if he wanted anything else. His stomach griped, clutching in on itself, but the thought of food nauseated him.

  Within moments, he’d fallen back into a deep sleep.

  ***

  Vivienne’s conversation with her mother did little to calm or reassure her of her powers, which were mostly unknown and now seemed to be going haywire, so half an hour later, she marched down the stairs in her running shoes. Eli hadn’t shown up for their morning run, or maybe he had and she’d been sleeping, but there were too many things passing through her head and no one, not even her own mother, seemed able to understand it. A run was just what she needed to, if not clear her head, control it.

  She’d just stepped into the dark wood foyer, and was heading down the hallway that would lead to the makeshift
forest at the back of the house, when she heard the front door open. Vivienne turned immediately, and was shocked to find Zahira smiling and approaching her. She’d met Zahira, and the rest of the Elders, when Conall had first brought her to Cedar Creek. Although she and the other female Elder had been nice, Vivienne hadn’t conversed with woman since then. She’d seen her regularly as she toured the estate, but there had been no one-on-one contact like this.

  “Are you going for a run?” the older woman inquired after a quick appraisal of Vivienne’s clothing.

  She nodded mutely, lifting dark brows. Zahira was dressed for the cold winter weather, in denim blue jeans, a thick turtleneck cashmere sweater, and brown cowgirl boots. As Vivienne examined her face, with all of her regal features, even down to her white hair, and then her clashing outfit, she giggled.

  One of Zahira’s brows lifted, as if she knew exactly what Vivienne was thinking, before she beamed. “Good, I thought I’d join you…if you wouldn’t mind.”

  She was shaking her head to tell Zahira she wouldn’t when she remembered the woman’s clothing. Even werewolves couldn’t be comfortable running in clothing—

  “I’ve watched you running with the pup,” Zahira said, and Vivienne sensed the affection the woman had for Eli. “So I take it you are not against running with a wolf at your side?”

  “No. I don’t mind.”

  “Good.” Zahira continued to stare at her for long seconds, and Vivienne grew slightly self-conscious until the Elder said, “I know that up until recently you’ve lived a very human life, Vivienne, so I will spare you the embarrassment of undressing before you by asking you to turn around.”

  The minute the meaning sank in, she whipped around, and felt like her entire face was on fire. Of course she’d seen loads of nude bodies walking around Cedar Creek, but she’d come to think of them as regular ‘nudies.’ No one, except Conall, however, had ever stripped before her. Even Eli usually came to her already in wolfen form, and if he didn’t, he usually found some dark corner to undress and change.

  After a great deal of rustling and a bright flash signifying that the nude woman was gone and in her place a magnificent creature, Vivienne turned around.

  A salt-and-pepper wolf sat gracefully on its haunches, staring at her. Vivienne looked for traces of Zahira in the sleekly built creature, and found one. Her eyes. They were the same color, a vivid brown that glowed amber with the change.

  Zahira suddenly stood and stretched, extending her front and hind legs. Vivienne got the message loud and clear.

  “Well, let’s go,” she murmured, lifting her hand to her hair and tightening the elastic band she’d put around it. She would pay for that later, when she tried to get it out of her naturally curly hair.

  When she opened the back door, Zahira rushed out, turning her head and grinning over her shoulder as she continued on. They weren’t racing so it couldn’t be called cheating, but the competitor in Vivienne rose to the challenge as she tore off behind the retreating wolf.

  She’d just started, and already her mind was clearing up.

  ***

  “Is everyone here?”

  “Yes, my lord. They are.”

  “Good. Leave.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Maximilian looked around the room at the faces of the grand wizards he’d assembled. They’d flown in from various states, some from other countries, for this briefing. In all, approximately twenty witches occupied the conference room of his New York home.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Thank you for flying in on such short notice.”

  Many nodded while some stared at him impatiently.

  “As you know, our race has been cursed with mortality for the past centuries. I have found a way to restore us to our former glory.”

  Murmurs went up around the room, and then the grand wizard from Connecticut, who looked to be older than Maximilian, spoke up in a brittle voice, “We have tried for years to restore our immortality. No one has succeeded. Why should we believe that you have succeeded where others have failed?”

  “Because my plan involves doing what no other witch has done.” He paused and cast a smile around the table. “I want to resurrect the druids.”

  There was an outraged uproar at his declaration and Maximilian pushed to his feet. His knees cracked, and he once more cursed the very druids he wished to resurrect.

  “Hear me, Grand Wizards!” he called over the array of voices. “I intend to resurrect the druids only after they agree to the terms set forth by the witches! It is for that reason that I need your support on this.” That wasn’t entirely the reason. He’d thought long and hard about including them in his plans, and had decided he needed them much more than he didn’t. He needed their powers to open the portal when the resurrection spell was cast, and the more witches he had with him, the better.

  “Silence!” The voice belonged to Wilhelm, whose eyes were on Maximilian as he spoke. “How can we expect the druids to abide by our terms? Hundreds of years ago, our race banished theirs, and now we are to resurrect them? Have we forgotten the reasons for this banishment? The hundreds of witches that were slaughtered because of their existence?”

  “Of course we do not forget our fallen brothers and sisters,” Maximilian responded, deciding that once his powers were fully restored, he would see to replacing Wilhem as grand wizard. The witch was too contradictory. “But we cannot let our current brothers and sisters fall prey to this curse when we have the means to put an end to it.” He surveyed the others, noticing that a few were warming up to his idea. He could see it in their eyes, in the way they shifted closer to the table, as if to hear him better. “As grand wizards, it is our duty to protect our covenants, and yet we are unable to protect them from that which they fear most: death.” Many nodded. Wilhem, he recognized, continued to watch him with a blank expression on his face. “Like humans, our race has come to fear the burden of age. We have suffered long, hundreds of years, as Wilhem saw fit to remind us, and it is time to end this suffering.”

  There was a short silence as the grand wizards stared at him.

  “Even if you can guarantee the druids will not seek revenge for the actions of our ancestors, how do you intend to resurrect them? No witch can,” Wilhem was speaking again.

  “No,” Maximilian agreed. “But another druid can.”

  “The druids were all banished.” This from a young grand wizard from New Jersey.

  “It is true that the druids of old were all banished. Our ancestors made sure of that.” He paused, and locked eyes with the witches seated around the table. “However, twenty-three years ago, two druids were born.”

  Murmurs went up among the witches once more.

  “It is impossible. The Gods stopped reproducing with mortals centuries ago.”

  “Only a druid couple or a mortal and a god can produce a druid offspring.”

  “This is madness, Cronin! The druids have all been banished.”

  “Silence!” Maximilian hissed, taking a deep breath to control his temper. Why were they so argumentative? He’d just handed them the key to immortality and they were…bickering? They were lucky he still needed them. “If you will try to remember to twenty-years ago, when an unanticipated eclipse blocked out the sun for the span of hours….” He paused, watching as some faces blanched in recognition. “And a power unfelt in centuries whipped through the lands before it was checked. Twin girls, two druids.” He let that hang in the air, and took a seat.

  As the other grand wizards spoke amongst themselves, Maximilian turned his attention to Wilhem. The witch stared at him like he’d just pieced a part of a puzzle together. Like he knew more than he should.

  “Do you have the druids?” Someone asked, and Maximilian turned his attention from Wilhem.

  “Not yet,” he answered. “I wanted to know who will pledge their support behind this cause?”

  “And you are certain that these druids exist?”

  “Very certain, my lords. They are curre
ntly living in this state.”

  Another ripple went around the room.

  “If these girls are druids as you say, this is a chance to restore our immortality, to make us as great as we once were,” Tiberius said loudly, pushing himself to his feet. Maximilian turned to his confidant. He’d told Tiberius about the girls’ true nature a week ago after deciding that he needed at least one grand wizard who knew, if not everything, almost everything. “I pledge my support and that of my covenant.”

  “Yes, I pledge my support, and that of my covenant.” And it continued, until half of the witches gathered had pledged their support, a quarter had said they needed time to think on it, and the quarter had rejected the notion. Of course, the witch leading the rejection party was Wilhem.

  “I beg you to reconsider you decisions, my lords,” Wilhem called as he pushed back his chair and stood behind it. “The druids were once and still are our greatest enemies. To resurrect them under the belief they will restore our immortality is wishful thinking.” He strode toward the door.

  Maximilian’s voice rang out. “Because we wish the best for our covenants, we are wishful thinkers? I think not, Wilhem. If we resurrect the druids, I can assure you they will swear to restore us to our former glory.”

  Wilhem paused at the door, and looked over his shoulder. He snorted. “And that, Grand Wizard, is wishful thinking. That a druid would not renege on a promise to a witch.” He surveyed the lot of grand wizards who’d thrown their support behind Maximilian. “That, my lords, is where you will all be in for a rude awakening.” With that he left, and after a few grumbles, some of the Grand Wizards filed out after him.

  Maximilian looked around at the faces still gathered. “Well, my lords, shall we proceed with the plans for the restoration of our race?”

  ***

  When they made it back to Conall’s place, Vivienne was perspiring badly despite the cold, and could feel the burn in her thighs and calves that attested to the good workout. Zahira padded over to her clothing as Vivienne headed to the kitchen. For one, she had no intention of watching a naked Zahira, and two, she was thirsty.