Taken by Moonlight (64 page)

“Your hand
will heal, Grand Wizard, as will the other injuries you sustain in my domain.”
He grinned. “But that won’t make them any less painful.” The smile vanished.
“You have been tried, judged, and found guilty of crimes against the goddess Artemis.
For that, your punishment is an eternity of suffering in Tartarus, under the
supervision of yours truly. Me.”

He looked
around the dark hovel in which Maximilian had woken, and clapped his hands
together once. Two men appeared immediately, both seeming to walk from clouds
of black smoke. One was dressed similarly to the man who’d broken his hand, in
the hooded black robe, but the other, from his rumpled state of dress,
bloodshot eyes, and the large scowl upon his face, looked as if he’d been sleeping.

“What is
your wish, Hades?” the cloaked one asked, and Maximilian’s fear was confirmed.
He was in Hell, at the whim of the lord of the underworld himself. Nicolette
had somehow brought him to Hell.

“I have
summoned both you, Erebos, and your son, Thanatos, to make you aware of a very
special guest.”

Maximilian’s
jaw dropped as he stared at the two gods before him. Like all of the witches,
he too had endured classes on ancient mythology. Erebos was Darkness, and
Thanatos was Death. Both were members of the only family of gods to have
sustained the transition from the Titans to Olympians. He in no way wanted to
be their special guest.

“For how
long, Hades?” the one called Erebos asked calmly.

“Eternity.”

“Wait—
wait
!
You have to allow me to argue my case.” He remembered that bit from the classes
he’d taken centuries ago. He could not be punished without arguing his case, or
having his case argued for him.

Hades
laughed and quirked an amused brow.

“What was
his crime?” Thanatos asked, ignoring him completely. He’d cloaked himself
similarly to his father now, but had refrained from placing the hood atop his
head.

“Mass
murder of the descendants of gods.”

“No! Wait,
you don’t understand.”

“What
punishment shall he be given?”

“Twenty-three
hours of torture.”

Thanatos
scoffed, but a sinister smile curved his lips. “What’s to prevent him from
dying?”

Hades
returned the smile. “I left him with his immortality.”

“Very
well,” Erebos responded. His expression never changed. “Thanatos will take him
first, and I will see him after.”

“Make him
wish for death,” Hades said softly, and then he disappeared. Erebos disappeared
as well, leaving him alone with the evil-looking Thanatos. It wasn’t that he
was scarred or in any way ugly, there was just something cruel lurking in those
gray eyes.

“Wait—there’s
been a mistake. Please. I’m a grand wizard—I—”

He was
lifted and slammed against the wall. The god approached him slowly, and laid an
almost gentle hand against his cheek.

“They call
me Death. I will be unable to give you the death you will soon seek, but you
will not find my torture lacking. I promise you.”

And then he
was burning up. His eyes widened as the god stepped away, and Maximilian looked
down. He was on fire. The flames were at his feet and climbing up his body. He
could feel his flesh peeling away, could smell the acrid odor of singeing
hairs, of frying skin. Maximilian tried to use his powers to put it out, but
nothing happened. It was as if his powers were dormant again. He could feel
them, but he couldn’t use them.

“Stop! Oh
God! Stop!” he cried. The flames only traveled to his hands. He screamed, and
screamed, and screamed some more. He screamed until he no longer had a voice,
until he passed out from the pain of his wounds.

When he
awoke next, he felt like he’d been burned to death. Large blisters littered his
body, and Maximilian wanted to scream from the pain of them, but his voice had
long since given out. Thanatos stood over him.

“We’ve only
just begun,” the god said softly, and then he was somewhere else, with people
clawing at him, biting at him. He was pulled this way, pushed that way, their
nails and teeth puncturing at his already hurting flesh.

“STOP!” he
screamed, his voice grating and raw. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Don’t, no! Please!
Help me! Someone help me!”

His screams
were lost in the Underworld, caught up and overshadowed by those of others in
similar, or worse, positions.

Vivienne
tore her eyes away from the jubilant scene ahead of her and scanned the ruins
around Stonehenge. Most of the witches had vanished. The creatures who remained
were mostly
weres
and the recently resurrected druids. Conall refused to
leave her or change, so he sat stoically before her, looking every inch alpha
werewolf as he warily watched the druids. Raoul and the rest of the pack had
joined him only moments before, and they too mimicked their leader. She
searched the faces of the others who remained and almost screamed to see the
familiar face on the other side of the plain.

Max! It was
Max. He was blue once more, with that long, black hair, but she knew it was
him.

Pushing to
her feet, she made to head in that direction. Conall came to his feet as well,
his big wolf body rippling, and issued a low warning growl that both irritated
and warmed her. He cared. She knew he did, but did he have to growl at her like
that?

Where
are you going, Vivienne?

Her
irritation vanished at hearing his voice in her head. She’d missed it, the
sweet caress of having him so intimately connected.

I saw
Max.
She turned to
look in the direction where she’d last seen her friend. He was still there,
rapidly speaking to another man. A man who was like him.

Conall
looked in the direction she indicated. She was right. It was Max. He surveyed
the path between Vivienne and her friend. The druids were still a few yards
away, but the grass was littered with other
weres
from various packs.
That didn’t particularly pacify him. Vivienne was still, for most purposes,
unmated, and although his scent was still on her, it was drastically faded,
something he intended to right as soon as possible. He sent a quick message to
Raoul before addressing his mate.

Follow
me.

Turning, he
led the way to Max, baring his teeth at any animal who looked past him to
Vivienne with anything more than a curious glance. Raoul did the same from
behind her.

Max was
engrossed in conversation with Kyros. The older warlock tried to help him
understand what had just happened. Although he felt as if he should know
something about these druids, he couldn’t remember anything. He’d come here to
kill his father, but had only succeeded in draining a vital portion of his soul
before the druid had stopped him. She’d been powerful, more so than he, and it
would have been suicidal to fight her over the right to kill his father. Still,
she’d promised Maximilian would suffer, and Max had seen the terror on his
father’s face as he recognized the woman. He was satisfied that wherever it was
Maximilian Cronin had gone, he would wish, instead, for death.

“Max!”

Hearing his
name, he turned in the direction of the voice. A druid approached him and her
face was familiar. He had known her before. She grinned and surged forward, but
retreated when a big, black wolf with feral yellow eyes and gleaming teeth
stepped into her path, blocking her body with his. Something clicked, but the
pieces were still missing.

The black
wolf and the druid…Drew…the druid had a twin, didn’t she? Yes, the one who’d
resurrected the banished druids.

“Damn it,
Conall,” she hissed under her breath, glaring down at the black wolf as she
tried to maintain her balance.

Conall.
Yes, he knew that name as well.

The wolf
took a step closer to him, before taking a seat directly between him and the
druid. He was protecting her.

“Max! We’ve
been so worried about you.”

His eyes
went back to the druid. She was beautiful, with smooth, brown skin and
honey-colored eyes. There was also something in her expression that told him of
the genuineness of the statement.

“Why?”

When her
face fell and Conall’s eyes narrowed, Max amended easily, “Why have you missed
me?”

Vivienne’s
brows raised but she answered, “Because you were captured by….” Her voice
trailed off and Max knew she meant to say his father. “We didn’t know what to
think. I’m just grateful you’re okay.” She smiled and then her eyes lit up.
“Drew! She’s been so worried about you, Max. I know you probably don’t believe
it, but she has. Drew is going to be thrilled to hear this.”

His body
grew cold instantly. Drew would never hear of any of this.

“What’s
your name?” he asked instead. Although she was familiar to him, he couldn’t
find her name anywhere in his memory.

“Max, it’s
me, Vivienne.” Her voice had grown small, her eyes pitying. She clutched her
hands together as she looked up at him, searching his eyes for answers. “What
did they do to you?”

“Enough,”
he responded vaguely, sending a brief look to Kyros, who hung back.

Her eyes
misted and she said in low voice, “I’m sorry, Max.”

So was he.
Sorry for things she’d never know.
Drew
….

He shoved
the thought away. There had been a fair exchange. Her life, and he would never
see her again.

Vivienne
seemed on the brink of saying something else when the wind, which had calmed to
a mere breeze, picked up once more. “Hear me, brothers and sisters of immortality.
We come in peace. To prove it, we would have words before we leave this place,
so that all may know ours is a just and honest cause.”

Max turned
in the direction of loud and booming voice. The druids remained where they’d
once been, but standing at the head of the group was a tall woman with her arms
outstretched. The one who’d taken his father.

A few
growls went up from the wolves, but a select few began walking forward. Conall
moved forward as well, another wolf taking his place between Max and Vivienne.

Come,
Max. She’s calling for a member from each of the species.

Max stared
at Kyros’s back in confusion.
You’re already going.

Yes, I
will represent the warlocks. You can represent the witches.

I won’t
be a good representative
.
It was true. What did he know of any of the communities anymore? And was he
still even a witch? By birth perhaps, but the part of him that was most
dominant was his warlock.

At least
you’re still here. That in itself will speak volumes.

When they
stood before her, the representatives of each of their communities, Nicolette
lifted her head and peered through the darkness to the creatures she knew
lurked therein.

“Will you
insult us with your lack of presence, vampires?” she asked with a tilt of her
head and a lift of her brow.

There was a
slight shifting in the air, and then about twenty vampires walked out of the
darkness. She immediately recognized their leader. Verenus Riddelin. Unchanged
by time in the way unique to immortals, he still looked the part of a handsome
Frenchman, except his clothing and hair were more modern. He was perhaps older
than she.

As Verenus
stepped forward, dipping his head at her and lifting a blond brow, she
addressed them all. Her voice was soft, but it carried on the wind. “We are a small,
but powerful race. We are also a peaceful race. We have no intention of waging
war against any community. War has taken much from us already, and we work to
rebuild. We would prefer to embrace you as allies, rather than enemies. You
have nothing to fear from us, and we in turn hope we have nothing to fear from
you. I, Nicolette Selene DeGaul of the House of Selene, do solemnly swear that
the druids will launch no attack on any community unless it is in the defense
of our own. This is my word, freely given.”

“
Is est
nostrum vox
,
libere vexamen
,” the druids called out after her.
This is our word, freely upheld.

After her
speech, Nicolette, along with two male druids, moved to where Cassie sat with
Alexander. Leaning down, she gently laid a hand against Cassie’s cheek, smiling
as she did so. The men carefully lifted Alexander between them, and Cassie
watched as they disappeared into the crowd of waiting druids.

“Will you
come with us, Cassandre?” Nicolette asked softly.