Taken by Moonlight (52 page)

Her voice
was familiar. He didn’t know how, but he felt like he’d heard it countless
times before. He gently turned her face up, silently willing her to open her
eyes. She did just that, blinking slowly in the darkness, to reveal dark brown
irises framed with long and currently matted lashes. He knew she couldn’t see
him, but he could see her clearly.
Laughter
.
Sunshine
.

“Max,” she
murmured, and he released her as if burned. He knew her. This was the woman,
the image he couldn’t get out of his head.

He touched
his fingers to her damp, clammy cheek once more. “Who are you?”

She blinked
and tried hard to see him in the dark.

“Max?” she
asked cautiously, tugging futilely at the chains that held her. A hoarse cry
left her lips, and she sucked in air frantically. “Max, is that you?”

“Who are
you?” he demanded, angry at himself for not knowing her. He recognized her,
yes, but he did not know her.

“Drew,” she
said softly. “Max, I didn’t tell them anything. I swear.” She swallowed audibly
and whimpered. “You’ve got to warn Vivienne.”

Drew.
Vivienne. Max. Yes, something about that fit. But weren’t Vivienne and
Cassandre the ones who’d tortured him? Kyros had called his father evil. Had
Maximilian lied to him? He was so confused.

The lights
suddenly went on and a loud alarm blared through the speakers.
Shit
. He
looked around the room, and found a little black ball staring back at him. A
camera. What kind of sick and twisted shit was this?

“Max,
you’re alive,” Drew said with a sigh, her eyes tracing his face as if he were
an apparition.

He moved
quickly, pulling the chains out from their holdings in the weak wood. He was
surprised at how easily they gave way. When he lifted her into his arms, she
screamed, and Max watched as her right arm fell limply away from her body,
broken.

“Shh,” he
whispered, gently placing her arm onto her body. With each movement of the
broken appendage she gave a cry. “Close your eyes, Drew.”

He flashed
them back into Kyros’s cell and gently placed her on the ground. The warlock
took one look at her, and shook his head.

“It’s not
worth it, Max. She’s dying.”

Kyros found
himself tossed carelessly back into the wall, a raging-mad Max standing inches
away from him.

“I’m taking
her out of here, understand? You can either come or wait for my father to
finish you off.”

Blinking,
Kyros watched as Max looked around for something to break the silver chain
around his foot. Finding nothing, he tried yanking it out of the wall, but that
proved futile. It was much stronger than the bindings needed to hold a human,
and the metal burned the hell out of his hand. He heard the sound of people
running toward the cell next door. Pulling off his shirt, he wrapped it around
his hand, braced his foot against the wall, grabbed the chain, and pulled with
all of his strength. Seeing what he was doing, Kyros tore a strip from the
shirt covering his body, and grabbed the chain as well. There was an audible
crack, and then the links gave away. The two men tumbled backward, but were on
their feet in an instant.

“Can you
get us out of here?” Max demanded of Kyros, breathing heavily. The warlock
nodded once. Reaching down, Max picked Drew up, and her cry of pain was much
hoarser this time.

The
footsteps hurried over to their cell, and Max heard the jingling of keys.

Merge
with me,
Kyros
commanded as he placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. Max asked no questions, just
did as he was told.

The door
swung inward and Max saw what looked like an entire army of trackers surge into
the room—moments before they disappeared.

The
werewolves were a bloodthirsty lot. Vivienne didn’t know why that shocked her,
but it did. Not only was there a massive amount of adults gathered beside the
stream that marked the westward end of the estate, young children milled about
as well, playfully tackling each other in, she guessed, a mimicking of what was
destined to happen. A few of the children had shifted to their wolves and were
chasing each other around the circle. They were all there to witness the blood
rite. As she’d approached the circle, she’d caught sight of glowing yellow eyes
and elongated canines. All were anticipating the fight, as much as if they were
the ones fighting.

Her manner
belied the torrent of emotions running through her. She was nervous, but the
thought of Samia, and what she’d said about her relationship with Conall, made
Vivienne so angry she immediately felt her powers under her skin. She was
confident, too, for in the past weeks she’d come to recognize something. She
wanted to stay with Conall, whether as his mate, his wife, or his girlfriend.
Yes, their ceremonies and rituals terrified her but the more she stayed with
Conall, the more attached she grew to him. So if beating the living hell out of
Samia was going to get the woman to back off and leave her and Conall alone,
she’d gladly do it, or die trying.

The crowd
parted as she moved to the front, Conall, Sloan, and Raoul walking behind her.
Zahira, Verity, and Latriel were already there, standing off to the side with
the rest of the Elders.

Alainn
,
if you want to call this off—

Since the
moment they’d set out from his house, Conall had been giving her an out.

No.

And she mentally
closed their connection. She needed to concentrate.

When she
reached front of the crowd, Latriel moved forward and continued until he stood
in the middle of the circle.

Holding up
his hands, he waited for the noise to die down, and then said in a clear and
even voice, “A blood rite has been called, and in turn, it has been answered.”

The silence
was deafening and Vivienne felt Conall step closer to her back. His warmth was
reassuring.

“Who calls
this blood rite?”

“I do.”
Vivienne watched as the crowd parted on the opposite side and Samia stepped
through. Rafael was behind her, and winked when Vivienne caught his eye.
Ignoring him, she returned her attention to Samia. The werewolf was wearing a
white tank top, and knee-length tights. Vivienne almost snorted. She’d expected
the woman to come naked, in a robe or something.

“And who
answers this blood rite?”

Latriel
looked directly at Vivienne, and she said clearly, “I do.”

The Elder
nodded, and dipped his head to Vivienne and then to Samia.

“Whenever
you are both ready,” he declared, and then promptly headed back to where the
Elders stood.

Vivienne
shrugged out of her jacket. It was frigidly cold despite the fact that the
werewolves acted like it was eighty degrees out. Before the fabric could hit
the ground, Eli took it and blended back into the crowd. Like Samia, she too
had dressed comfortably. Instead of a tank, she wore a fitted long-sleeved
black tee, and instead of tights, gray sweats and sneakers.

She’d taken
a step forward when Conall tugged her back and bit down against the place where
her neck and shoulder met. Vivienne caught a cry in the back of her throat,
relaxing more when Conall licked at the bite, easing the nip of pain. When he
released her, she tossed him a look over her shoulder, wondering what that was
about, but Sloan and Raoul had stepped forward, and were now forming a sort of
wall
before him.
Strange.

She turned
and headed to the center, watching Samia all the while. She hadn’t moved and
was glaring at Vivienne, possibly for the display Conall had just put on. Samia
slowly approached, and instead of walking directly to her, began a sort of
half-circling, in which she would move slowly in one direction around Vivienne
before switching and moving in the other direction.

A large
grin touched the woman’s lips, and her eyes flashed yellow. Moments later, she
launched herself at Vivienne, who quickly moved out of the way, turning as she
did so, to face a recovering Samia. Samia landed in a crouch, and had only to
turn herself around before re-launching once more. Vivienne sidestepped her
again, and Samia released an angry growl. She popped up, cracking her neck left
and right, and strode to Vivienne. Briefly caught off guard by this change in
tactic, Vivienne didn’t notice her arms were coming up until Samia was shoving
her back. She flew through the air before coming to a jarring landing on the
hard-mud ground. Before she could recover, Samia was on top of her, tearing at
her face with lengthened claws.

“I’m going
to rearrange that pretty face of yours,” Samia growled.

Vivienne
heard a vicious snarl from somewhere in the background as she reached up,
caught Samia by the throat, and tossed her off. Popping up, Vivienne ran a hand
over her cheek, feeling the deep indentations where Samia had ripped out flesh.
Her hands came away blood-red, and she blinked down at them.

Her face
throbbed, but as she lifted her eyes to Samia, who’d begun circling her once
more, her body began to hum. There was a slight whispering in her head, as if something
were speaking to her. She looked around the circle of werewolves, at sight of
Sloan and Raoul with their backs facing her…at Zahira and Verity, who seemed
concerned.

Samia
launched at her again, but Vivienne met her mid-air this time, flipping the
woman so she would go down first. The colors faded out to red, and she saw a
look of confusion pass Samia’s eyes moments before she drew her nails across
Samia’s unmarked cheek. As four red lines appeared, Vivienne grunted her
approval. Tit for tat.

“He doesn’t
want you, bitch.” And then she began choking her. Samia clawed at her hands,
opening her skin with her sharp claws. Despite the pain, Vivienne shook her
head, and smiled. There was something delightful about watching a person
struggle to take in air, knowing they wouldn’t be able to get it. Shaking her
head, Vivienne tried to retain control. Something was trying to take over. The
darkness.

She stood
and dragged Samia up by the throat, lifting her until her feet were off the
ground. The woman continued to scratch at her hand, but Vivienne only tightened
her hold on her neck.

“Give up,”
she heard herself say in a dark voice.

Samia
stopped struggling, and when Vivienne thought the
were
would do exactly
that, she lifted her feet, and kicked Vivienne in her belly.

Vivienne
released her, and doubled over. Her midriff hurt and she imagined Samia might
have broken a rib as well, but the pain only refueled her. When she
straightened, it was to find a partially naked Samia, tugging at the rest of
her clothing.

A ripple
went up around the crowd as Samia stripped naked, sneakers and shirt flying
every which way. A bright light exploded, and the red wolf charged her.

Vivienne
waited until the last possible moment, and then she lifted her hands, allowed
the power inside of her to come forth, and blasted the wolf back. There was a
sharp whine as Samia landed hard on her back. Another ripple of excitement went
around the circle like a pulsing wave.

The red
wolf slowly got up, stretching her limbs, and stared at Vivienne. She was
breathing hard, panting actually. Samia circled her once more, and Vivienne
knew she was trying to find a weak spot. She allowed the wolf to circle her,
barely turning her head to see where she was, before she felt the shift in the
air as Samia went for the back of her neck. She twisted at the last possible
moment, and blasted her again.

The wolf
came up once more, shaking her fur as if to shake off the latest attack, and
padded lightly around Vivienne. She suddenly stopped and approached her slowly,
cautiously.

In her
eyes, Vivienne saw a grudging type of respect. She tamped down the darkness as
Samia fell to her side. Sloan had said something about the wolf having to show
her belly, and Vivienne assumed that was what Samia was doing.

She assumed
wrong. Before she could blink, Samia shot up, going directly for her throat.
Vivienne threw her hands up, and then cried out as the wolf’s massive jaws
closed around her arm. Under the pain and weight of the wolf, she was thrown
off balance. She fell forward and found herself eye level with Samia.

Vivienne
read victory in the wolf’s eyes and knew that in a second, she would move in
for the kill. Something in her answered, and her mind was suddenly filled with
the image of the white wolf.

Her body
grew warm. Maybe it was the delirium setting in from that bite, and Vivienne
felt the urge to close her eyes and relax. Considering she was moments aware
from being mauled by a wolf, it was a very stupid urge.

A sharp
pain rushed her, and she snapped her eyes open, wondering if Samia had attacked
her again, but she quickly recognized that the red wolf had backed up and was
watching her.

She heard a
scream, followed by another. It was then she recognized those screams belonged
to her. The pain. Oh God, the pain. Her bones felt like they were breaking, her
muscles were stretching.
What is happening?