Taken by Moonlight (41 page)

“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?”