Taken by Moonlight (40 page)

Cassandre
shook her head again, trying in vain to concentrate on the words in front of
her. Her parents were arguing…again.

Her father
had arrived early in the morning, and from that time, he and Evelyn had started
their screaming fest. She guessed her mother had broken the news to him about
him being the only human in a family of witches and druids, and he was not
taking it well. Who could blame him? Everything went silent. Picking up
Alexander’s book, which she’d decided was a spell book and therefore her dream
guy was some sort of witch, she made her way over to her locked door. Pressing
her ear against it, she listened. Silence—true silence.

She
whispered the words that would hide the book, and made her way downstairs. Her
mother sat in the living room on one of the couches, a hand thrown over her
face, while her father stared blankly ahead.

“Dad?”
Cassie whispered, thinking he was oddly fixated on the empty wall.

Evelyn
jumped, clutching a hand to her chest and offering Cassie a weak smile.

“Is
something wrong, ma chère?” Evelyn sounded tired, and she looked no better. Her
usually put-together-mother look was sweaty, and red-eyed.

Cassie
shook her head. “Just grabbing something from the kitchen.” It was a lie but
she couldn’t very well tell her mother she was spying on the two of them. “Dad,
are you okay?”

 He didn’t
answer. His expression never altered. Evelyn sighed and seemed to shrink right
before her daughter’s eyes.

“He’s
resting.” She sounded bitter. A forced smile touched her lips. “I’m sure you
heard us arguing, but everything will be fine.”

Cassie cast
a doubtful look at her catatonic father. “Can he hear me?”

Evelyn
sighed. “Not at the moment. If he continues like this, he’ll either have a
heart attack or an aneurism, and then where will we all be?” She glared at
Charles, before sighing once more. “Oh, Charles.”

Taking that
as her cue to leave, Cassie turned and headed for the kitchen. Since she was
downstairs anyway, she might as well grab some organic peanut butter, and a few
saltines.

Back in her
room, she placed the tray with her snack onto the bed and recalled the spell
book. She was nibbling on her biscuits when the temperature in the room dropped
a few degrees, and she felt a presence behind her.

Turning
quickly, she watched in mounting horror as an apparition, a woman with long
black hair and startling green eyes, reached a hand to her. Except for the
ancient aura surrounding her, the woman looked to be in her early twenties. A
wind Cassie couldn’t feel blew about the woman, sending her pale blue gown
swaying as her hair lifted off of her shoulders and flew behind her.

Cassie
grabbed the book and prepared to flash herself into the living room where her
far more powerful mother was. As she closed her eyes, the woman began to speak.
The language was old as time itself, but for some reason, Cassie understood.

“Cassandre
of the House of Selene,” she spoke slowly, her voice haunting and rich. “Help
us. Resurrect us and we will ensure there is peace and harmony among the
immortals.”

“Who are
you?” Cassie almost kicked herself. She was talking to a ghost! Here she was
talking to some
creature
who’d appeared out of thin air, as if she
didn’t know the dangers in doing so. What she should be doing was flashing
herself to the living room, or screaming for her mother.

“You are
one of us, Cassandre, and we embrace you,” the woman said in that eerie but
gentle voice. “Release us from captivity. Free us, Cassandre.”

She blinked
and shook her head, edging off the bed. The woman moved slowly, watching her.

“You’re a
druid?” she asked, waiting for the nod before she continued. “How are you here?”
If she remembered correctly, they’d been locked away in a place that was
neither accessible nor breachable.

“My time is
short.” She moved closer and Cassie shivered when her icy cold hand brushed her
cheek. “We are not the savages we are made out to be. Release us, Cassandre.”

Her image
began to fade and Cassie took a step back. “Will you seek retribution on the
witches?”

She shook
her head slowly. “No retribution will be sought. My people have been punished
thrice over for the crimes of few. Release us.” She faded until her presence
was but a dim light. “Free us, Cassandre. Only you can free us….”

Her voice
lingered even as she disappeared. Cassie erupted into movement, flashing
herself into the living room. Evelyn jumped up immediately, scanning the area
even as her powers leapt within her.

“I think I
just saw a druid,” Cassie told her. Evelyn’s eyes turned as wide as her own
before she urged her daughter to sit.

She fell to
the couch. Cassandre started at the beginning, telling her mother about Alexander
Petraeus, the book, and finally, the druid.

When she
was finished, Evelyn nodded and asked one question. “He said that his name was
Alexander Petraeus?”

Although
she found it strange that through everything she’d told her mother, that one
name had stuck with her, Cassandre nodded.

“Petraeus,”
Evelyn said once more, as if testing the word on her tongue. Almost as an
afterthought, she said, “Alexander.”

She waved a
hand, and her very own spell book appeared. “Did I tell you my grandmother
created this spell book for my mother? That my mother added her own spells and
later passed it on to me?”

Cassie
blinked. She’d just been visited by a
druid
and her mother was talking
about their family history! Straightjackets, the lot of them.

“What does
that have to do with anything?” Cassie asked, ignoring the fact that her
question was a touch rude, given she was speaking to the woman who’d birthed
her.

“My
grandmother was a druid. This is a druid spell book.”

Nodding,
Cassie continued to stare at her mother. Evelyn flipped it open to the first
few pages, using her finger to navigate the list of names. Cassie leaned over
and peered at some of the writing. Under the headline “House of Ares” were
several names. Another headline followed, followed by another, and another. All
were the names of Gods.

Her mother
flipped the pages a few times, and Cassie anxiously waited. This had something
to do with Alexander, the man from her dreams, and she wasn’t sure she was
going to like it. Finally, her mother tapped a page, and looked up at her.

Cassie’s
brows lifted. “What is it?”

“Alexander Petraeus,
House of Poseidon, known as Earthshaker, Petraeus, Neptune….”

“Uh—huh?”
Cassie was never really at a loss for words but what on earth did her mother
mean?

Evelyn
snapped the book shut, and almost immediately it vanished. She looked her
daughter directly in the eye.

“Alexander Petraeus
is the son of Poseidon, the God of the Sea. It is said that Poseidon only sired
only one son, and gave him power over every element under his control. Most
druids have one, sometimes two elements at their disposal; Alexander has many.”

So
Alexander was a druid, like her. Although the thought made her slightly uneasy,
it didn’t frighten her. He’d never tried to harm her, and he’d been the first
to explain the druids to her.

“When the
druids roamed the Earth, Alexander was known as “The Avenger.”

That didn’t
sound good. Nope, didn’t sound good at all. Cassie felt a distinct chill go
through her body. The soft hairs on her arm stood. “Why?”

“Because he
is responsible for most of the havoc wrecked by the druids. Hundreds of witches
were killed at his command.” She shuddered, as if shrugging off a memory. “It
was Alexander Petraeus who cursed the witches to mortal lives as the druids
were being banished. He was the only one powerful enough to do it.”

It was
Cassie’s turn to shudder. Alexander had been responsible for the massacre of
hundreds of witches? Her dream guy? He didn’t seem capable of doing anything so
terrible.

“Maybe
there are two—”

Evelyn
shook her head briskly. “There is only one Alexander Petraeus, Cassandre.”

A chill
went down her spine as her mother quoted Alexander’s exact words. She’d thought
him vain at the time. He’d been telling the truth.

“You will
tell me everything. When did he first appear to you? How frequently?
Everything, Cassandre. Be quick and leave nothing out.”

Vivienne
crawled out of bed slightly after ten in the morning. She was naked, a
delicious tingling at her core. After taking a quick shower, she ran down the
winding staircase and headed for the kitchen. She was hungry again, but that
was no doubt because after their two-hour session in the living room, Conall
had awoken her at five for a good morning that still made her blush to the roots
of her hair. She’d come to realize, as the days passed, that he was an early
riser. It didn’t matter what time he went to bed, he was up with the dawn, or
near it.

A large
grin dominated her face as she walked into the kitchen, but upon seeing who was
there, the grin faded. Sloan. Everything came back swiftly. Her exchange with
Samia, Sloan grabbing her, the darkness….

Sloan’s
eyes lifted from the newspaper before him and he placed his mug of coffee back
onto the table.

Vivienne
nodded once in his direction and moved to the bread basket. She’d have to speak
to Sloan at some time, preferably soon, but right now, at this particular
moment, she just wanted her breakfast. After placing two slices of raisin bread
into the toaster, she walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the cream
cheese. Her ear pricked as they recognized…silence. By now, Sloan should have
moved. A slight rustle, or even the grazing of the mug against the table, but
he hadn’t.

Curiosity
got the better of her, and she looked over her shoulder. He stared directly at
her, as if he were waiting to say something. Brows furrowing, Vivienne was
about to turn back to her breakfast when he spoke.

“If I
offended you by returning to you the house in the manner that I did, I
apologize.” He dipped his head in a formal manner. “And if I hurt you in any
way, know it was unintentional.”

Vivienne
stared at him for a long while, and then she nodded. “Apology accepted.”

Sloan bowed
his head, and pushed his chair back.

She
followed him with her gaze, wondering if he was leaving because of her. You
don’t have to leave.”

A little
smile touched his lips as he snapped the newspaper closed and picked up his
mug. “CCC” was engraved in white around the blue enamel. “I was waiting for
you, Vivienne.”

To apologize,
she knew.

The toaster
popped up, and she quickly placed the two pieces of bread on a saucer, before
turning back to Sloan. He was almost out of the kitchen.

“Wait,
please,” she called. “Why did you…treat me like that?”

 “The pack
abides by certain laws. Most are unwritten but passed down through
generations,” he began in his usual cool and level tone. She nodded, wanting
him to continue. “Although you were provoked by Samia, she will now have a
greater reason to be granted a blood rite.” When Vivienne’s brows lifted, Sloan
said, “You have drawn blood not once, but twice of the same wolf.”

Nodding,
she asked slowly, “So what you’re saying is that although she provoked me,
she’s likely to get a blood rite?”

“Yes,
especially as she’s requested it before. This latest attack will only tell the
pack you are strong enough, and able to fight Samia in a blood rite.”

Vivienne
turned back to her toast. Not wanting to eat it cold, she grabbed a knife,
stuck it into the cream cheese, and began slathering the two pieces of bread.

“Why is
everyone so afraid of me fighting Samia?” she murmured to herself, thinking
that if a blood rite was what it took to get Samia to keep her distance, she’d
gladly fight it.

Although it
was a rhetorical question, Sloan answered anyway, “Because if you lose, the
pack will never respect you as an alpha and if you fight her and lose before
the mating ceremony, some may even try to prevent it.”

As Vivienne
bit into a slice of the toast, she lifted a brow. Conall would never allow
that.

“I said
try
,”
Sloan repeated, and she could have sworn there was a slight twinkle in his eye
before it disappeared.

“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.