Taken by Moonlight (38 page)

“That is
enough, brother,” he said slowly, reverting to his native language. The man’s
lids lifted, and silver-blue gazes clashed, before Kyros felt the grip loosen.

He licked
the cut, watching as the skin closed beneath the deep red of his blood. The
healing agent in their saliva was one helpful trait from vampire ancestors.

“Is he
restored?” Maximilian asked from behind him.

Kyros
resisted the urge to snarl, and shook his head. “Not yet.”

A howl of
pain erupted from the man on the bed and he bared his teeth. The tendons in his
neck stuck out, and Maximilian rushed forward, pushing Kyros out of the way.

“What’s
happening?”

Seeing the
concern on the Grand Wizard’s face, Kryos smiled and said heartlessly, “His
body is dying.”

A
full-blooded warlock could survive a blood transfusion from another, due to
their relation to vampires, but a mixed breed, a hybrid, had about as much chance
of living after ingesting the blood as he had of dying.

“Take him
back to his cell!” Maximilian roared, watching as Max gasped for air. His son’s
hands came up and scratched at his throat. Minutes passed before he fell
backward, his body going lax before a pale blue tinge began creeping over his
skin. “If he dies, so will you.”

Kyros
laughed. Death would be a blessing compared to chains.

“And if he
lives, I will go free?” he taunted back at the grand wizard. He hadn’t believed
him for one second. Cronin was a consummate liar. If the mixed-breed boy died,
he hoped Cronin went through with his promise to kill him. If he didn’t, Kyros
vowed he would kill himself, but not before he killed the grand wizard who’d
enslaved him.

Vivienne
blinked once, twice, her eyes finally fixing on the dark ceiling above. There
was a slight throb at the base of her skull but even as she felt it, it faded.
She shifted slightly, finding her movements obstructed by the thick duvet
covering her.
Where am I?

Recognition
dawned as she looked around, finding the objects and furniture that marked
Conall’s bedroom.
How had she gotten here?
She remembered Samia, and
Sloan…and darkness.

She heard a
sound to her right and turned her head. A huge, black wolf was pacing back and forth,
his head bent, his concentration obvious. Pushing onto her elbows, she blinked
and peered closer. Conall.

Vivienne
had just opened her mouth to speak when he stealthily paced over to the door.
He eyed it, growled, and turned, intent on pacing back to her side.

“What are
you doing?” she asked, startling him enough that he stopped, lifted his yellow
gaze to hers, and stared.

Thinking he
hadn’t understood her, she spoke directly into his mind.

Conall,
what are you doing?

Holding
herself up was becoming daunting so she allowed her body to fall backward.
Light exploded in the dimly lit room, and moments later, Conall in his human
form hovered over her. He touched her temples and lifted her head to run his
fingers over the back. The concern she read in his eyes both startled and
comforted her.

“How do you
feel?” His voice was both gruff and gentle.

“Like it’s
freshman year of college, and I just pulled my first all-nighter,” she quipped
easily, wanting to put a smile on his face. It didn’t work. He looked even more
confused, so she chuckled and said, “Good. I feel good.”

He nodded.
“Do you remember what happened?”

Sighing,
Vivienne related what she remembered. Her fight with Samia, which served to
make Conall angrier, being led back to the house with Sloan, and the darkness.

“Darkness?”
he asked slowly, brows lifting as his fingers stroked her cheek.

“I don’t
know how to describe it. I felt something dark cloud my mind right before I
pushed Samia away, and I felt the same thing when I was trying to get away from
Sloan.”

A scary
expression descended on Conall’s face as he asked lowly, “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she
said quickly, sensing that one affirmative answer would lead to Conall rushing
from the room to do only God knew what to Sloan. When he looked doubtful, she
forced a smile and said, “Maybe just my pride.”

He nodded,
and continued to stare at her.

When long
seconds trickled by, Vivienne asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you
feel anything else except darkness?”

She nodded,
and told him about how her body had felt electrified when she’d faced Samia.

He nodded
once more, but remained silent.

“Well, are
you going to tell me why I fainted?” she teased, moving her arms from beneath
the duvet to stretch them above her head. As she did so, her eyes caught sight
of the window, and the darkness outside.

She pushed
herself up immediately. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.”
The reply was nonchalant and he continued to stare at her like some great
puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“Oh my God,
I’ve been asleep for most of the day?”

A nod
confirmed her suspicions. And her stomach seconded it with a loud growl. She
clutched her belly and looked up at him through lowered lids. A little smile
was now on his lips, and he was staring at her with a raised brow.

“Well, what
do you expect?” Vivienne finally said, shaking her head even as she pushed the
duvet from her body and stepped onto the carpeted floor. “I’ve been asleep for
over twelve hours. I’m starving.”

She walked
over to the door, intent on pulling it open and heading to the kitchen.
Normally, there was a copious amount of food stacked in the refrigerator, which
was a good thing, as the men in the house, Conall, Sloan, Raoul, and Eli, were
like trash disposers when it came to food. They ate, stopped long enough to
breathe, ate some more, and then kept eating. A woman came in every few days to
restock the fridge and cook, but she wasn’t one for conversation.

Vivienne’s
hand closed around the doorknob, and she turned it. It refused to budge.
Blinking, she turned it again, and then shook it.
What the hell
?

“Are you
still in a mad rage?” a bored and very familiar voice asked from the other side
of the door.

Vivienne
was just about to tell whoever it was to either open the door or bring her some
food, when Conall gently lifted her out of the way.

He tugged
at the doorknob once more, and said in his obey-me-or-pay voice, “Raoul, I’m
giving you two choices. You can open the door now, or I can break the door down
and deal with you.”

There was a
pause, and Vivienne heard shifting from the other side.

“Conall, I
don’t think it’s a good idea—”

Clutching
her growling stomach, Vivienne cut him off. “I don’t know why you’ve locked us
in this room Raoul, but I’m hungry, so either open the door or bring me
something to eat.”

“Either way
you’ll have to open the door.” The warning didn’t go over anyone’s head.

Vivienne
looked up at him. Why were they looked in the bedroom? She might have asked for
an answer had she not heard the jingling of keys. Moments later, she faced
Raoul, who gave her a sheepish grin, but kept his eyes on Conall.

“Where’s
Sloan?”

On her way
to the staircase, Vivienne stopped and looked over her shoulder. Conall sounded
so menacing, and he certainly looked the part, naked as he was. Oh sweet Jesus,
the man was bare-as-the-day-he-was-born naked! And she hadn’t even recognized.
Well, of course she had, but she was accustomed to seeing him like that, and
why was he walking out of the room naked? Right! Werewolf. They were regular
nudists.

Her stomach
cramped viciously, and she rubbed it. A lot of food. Please God let the
refrigerator have a ton of food. “Conall, aren’t you hungry?”

He tore his
eyes from Raoul, saw the strain on her face, and nodded once. Conall gave Raoul
a look that said he wasn’t finished talking to him. Only then did he move
toward her.

Sighing and
completely forgetting about his clothes, or lack thereof, Vivienne rushed down
the stairs.

Conall
looked on in admiration and amazement as Vivienne polished off two bowls worth
of spaghetti and meatballs, two tall glasses of fruit punch, two Twinkies—Eli
bought those things like they would run out at the supermarkets—and an apple,
all in the span of an hour. Although tall, she weighed little to nothing, and
the amount of eating she’d just done was impressive, even for one of his kind.
A little burp escaped her and she excused herself, placing a hand to her lips
as she sat back in the chair and rubbed her slightly extended belly.

Satisfied,
she lifted her gaze to his and smiled. The smile faded when her eyes lowered to
his barely touched plate.

“I thought
you were hungry.”

He blinked.
Of course he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten for as many hours as she, because
Raoul and Zahira had schemed to get him into Vivienne’s bedroom, only to lock
him inside. It was however, more fascinating to watch her eat, than to focus on
his own food. Plus, he’d been trained to keep hunger at bay centuries ago. Half
a day without food was nothing compared to the weeks of starvation he’d faced
in the past.

“Are you
sure that’s all you want?” he asked softly, indicating the empty bowls and
Twinkie wrappers on the table. The sarcasm didn’t go over her head.

A smile
split her lips, and she patted her belly. “For now.”

When shock
registered on his face, Vivienne chuckled, then sobered. “Do you know why I
fainted?”

His eyes
held hers for long seconds before he answered, “No.” He paused, fixing her with
an intense stare. “It may have something to do with your powers.”

She nodded,
taking it all in stride. In cases like these, where things couldn’t be
explained, she looked to the one person who would more than likely have the
answer. Her mother. From the moment that she’d arrived at Cedar Creek, she’d
been calling her mother about any and everything “new” that her body did. Every
feeling, great or small, was followed by a phone call to Evelyn. Being that it
was after midnight, she’d wait until the morning to make said call.

Conall
grabbed the glass of water next to his plate and drank. She watched his throat
work, fascinated in a way that slightly embarrassed her because all he was
doing was drinking! He shouldn’t be able to make drinking water look sexy.

The glass
lowered and she blinked, swallowing to relieve the sudden dryness in her
throat. It wasn’t her fault! He was naked, she reminded herself. Yes, and a
naked man drinking water, a
very
attractive naked man drinking water,
was a sexy thing to behold.

When she
refocused on his face, his dark brow was lifted, and his eyes were switching to
that intense midnight blue color that always came before he pounced on her.

“What’s a
blood rite?” she rushed out, feeling heat assault her face as she looked
anywhere but his. “Samia wants a blood rite, and I think it’s about time I knew
what that meant.”

He blinked
and she saw his eyes switch back to their original color: brilliant blue.

“She won’t
get it.” His voice was final, and from the set of his lips, she knew he didn’t
feel like elaborating.

“Conall,”
she began, irritated at her lack of knowledge about things that concerned her.
“You told me once what it meant, but I thought you were in a cult, remember?
Please explain it to me again.”

The man
stared at her long and hard, as if willing her to drop the topic, but Vivienne
only crossed her arms before her chest, and returned his stare steadily. He
blew out a breath, and finally said, “A blood rite is a refereed fight. If a
were
feels wronged by another, he may seek justice by blood. Essentially, he calls
out his opponent, a date and time are set, and the two fight to first blood, or
depending on the severity of the offense, to the death.”

“First
blood?” she queried softly.

“Yes.
Whoever draws blood first claims victory. With most blood rites, first blood is
claimed easily, and the fight is quick.”

“And Samia
wants a blood rite against me to claim first blood?”

His eyes
narrowed, and she felt him probing around in her mind. She purposely cleared
it, a trick she’d mastered only recently.

Conall
pulled away from her with a fierce scowl. “Samia wants a blood rite, but not to
first blood.”

“To the
death.” Although that sent a jolt of fear through her, she grew angrier. All of
this because Samia couldn’t take a little rejection? What else had Vivienne
ever done to the bitch except take Conall? Each time she’d lashed out had been
because Samia had provoked her.