Taken by Moonlight (15 page)

Eyes
peeling open, he saw Max standing directly before him and for the first time in
many years, he felt a twitching of fear.

“What are
you?” He tried to keep the tremor from his voice. Did not succeed. “What the
fuck are you?”

“I’m a
half-breed.” The voice was demonic, haunting. Max suddenly placed a hand right
over the tracker’s heart and the coldness swirling around the room seemed to
lodge directly in his chest. Max drew in a deep breath, one that seemed to last
forever, and the tracker felt his body grow weaker.

What’s
happening?
His eyes
closed. His limbs went limp. Disbelief settled in when he felt his life force slipping
out of him and going directly into the halfling….

Drew
released a high-pitched scream as she watched the scene unfold in Max’s
bedroom. Her baseball bat forgotten, she watched in dread as some type of
creature straight out of a Sci-Fi movie sucked the life out of a man! She knew
it was impossible, but that was what was happening. The thing inhaled deeply,
and something like white mist was being sucked through his mouth and nose. She
wanted to run but couldn’t. Her legs felt like stone pillars.

Where was
Max? What the hell was this thing?

Upon
hearing her scream, the creature dropped the man, who was probably dead, and
turned to face her. As she stared into a frightening yet beautiful face, Drew
was transfixed. The baseball bat slipped from numb fingers as the creature
reached out a hand to her. Shaking her head, she willed her legs to move
backward. Pulling her gaze away from it, she searched the room for Max. With
fear in her heart, she called his name. Once. Twice. Max did not appear. Didn’t
call out to her. Where was he? She began to tremble. Had this thing killed him?

She backed
away further. The creature moved. Drew turned and was about to run when she
heard Max’s voice call to her, “Drew….”

Turning
immediately, her eyes bypassed the thing as she searched him out. “Max! Max,
where are you?”

“Drew,” the
voice came again, and it took her the span of seconds to recognize that Max’s
voice was coming
from the thing
.

She gulped,
but found that her feet were glued when he took another step forward.

“Max?” Her
own voice was quiet, disbelievingly so.

The blue
man stopped before her. Drew blinked, and found herself looking directly at
Max. He was pale, extremely so, and sweat beaded his forehead. His lip seemed
curled in pain, but it was Max.

“You—you’re
the…thing?”

He looked
away. Drew shook her head. Stepped back. He followed.

“Drew,
wait.”

“No! What
the hell is going on here? What are you?”

“Drew,” his
voice sounded pained, and he clutched his stomach. “Just calm down, okay?”

She
released a hysterical laugh, which turned into more hysterics when she looked
beyond Max to find that the man on the floor had vanished! Tears pooled in her
eyes, but still she laughed.

Max was
suddenly holding her. She struggled, lashing out at him as she tried to escape.
He was a monster. Max was some sort of blue monster. He whispered something in
another language, and pulled her closer to him. She fought him. His voice was
stronger when he spoke again. Drew tried to pull back and found she couldn’t.
Her legs gave out under her and his arm at her back was the only thing keeping
her upright. The voice came again. This time it was soothing and gentle. She
slumped against him, her mind screaming even as she slipped from conscious
thought.

Vivienne
was surprised to find her clothes had been washed and ironed. A slight,
dark-spice aroma that reminded her of Conall touched her nostrils as she
slipped into them. The woman who’d brought her clothing and bag had been very
quiet, watching her, mostly, during her brief stay in Conall’s bedroom.
Vivienne had felt red creep into her cheeks at being so scrutinized by his
maid, whom she suspected the woman was, especially as the maid seemed to know
exactly why she was still there. Feeling gauche, Vivienne had thanked the woman
but she’d simply stood there, staring at her with raised eyebrows. It wasn’t
until she told her, in very nice words, to leave, that the woman had moved,
telling her blandly she’d wait outside to take her to Conall.

Dressed,
and armed with her bag, Vivienne had stepped from the bedroom to find the maid
waiting for her. They did not speak as Vivienne followed her down a carpeted
hallway, filled with large to life-sized portraits that Conall had probably
purchased from museums or art shops for a pretty penny—the burdens of the
rich—and then down another hallway, this one as bland as the other was opulent,
and finally down a carpeted staircase. No wonder the man had maids. It would
take an army to keep this place clean.

They
traversed even more hallways, and Vivienne was just beginning to think of the
place as a structured maze, when the woman finally stopped and turned to her.

“Through
there.” She pointed with a toned arm toward a door at the end of one of the
hallways.

“Thanks,”
Vivienne said. The woman didn’t reply. Lifting her brows in confusion, Vivienne
ignored that slight and headed in the direction the woman pointed.

The sight
she walked in on definitely made her pause, and gave pause to everyone in the
kitchen. Vivienne immediately recognized Conall and Eli, who were standing
before the huge, six-burner stove, but there were also two other men she’d
never seen before. They were the ones staring at her in slack-jawed shock. Both
were handsome, one dreamily so. He looked like something right out of a movie,
wild blond hair that touched the tops of his shoulders, hazel-green eyes,
beautiful mouth—lips like that on a man should be banned—and the tight muscle
shirt he wore revealed the print of abs body-builders would kill for. The man
was damned near perfect. The other wasn’t far behind, with his short-cropped
military-styled black hair and gunmetal gray eyes, but his beauty was
ruined—perhaps enhanced to some—by the harsh slash of his lips. Even now, they
seemed to be curling downward as he stared at her.

Vivienne’s
gaze snapped to Conall, who was staring at her with those intense blues in a
way that shouldn’t make her want him, but she did. Even though the blond could
easily win Mr. World or beat Brad Pitt, Matthew McConaughey, and God knows who
else for the title of Sexiest Man Alive, she wanted Conall. Not only was he
gorgeous, he exuded confidence and sex appeal, and was extremely good in bed.
Not that she had anyone to compare him to, but it had been
that
good for
her. His lips suddenly lifted in a catlike smile, and Vivienne blushed, tugging
at the collar of her shirt.

Why didn’t
they open a window? It was hot in the kitchen!

“Hi!” Eli
came toward her, a kitchen towel flipped over one shoulder and a large, almost
childlike smile on his face. Although uncomfortable, she smiled back. He
reached forward and grabbed her arm. “Sit down.”

Eli
released her just as suddenly and looked guiltily to Conall. She did the same.
The man who made her blood heat was glaring at his nephew. Eli’s smile
disappeared momentarily before he shrugged and pointed to a table on the other
side of the kitchen. Vivienne was about to speak when the man with the buzz cut
spoke. She didn’t know what was said, as he had not used English, but from his
tone of voice, he didn’t sound pleased.

Conall
responded, his voice matching that of the man. Eli’s eyes widened as he looked
between the two of them. The blond was still staring at her.

Clearing
her throat, Vivienne looked directly at Conall. “I’m calling a cab. I just need
the address.”

Both men
stopped their foreign argument and looked at her. Conall answered, “I’ll take
you home, after you eat.”

Vivienne
shook her head once.
Right.
She was not about to eat. It was too awkward
and it was obvious that some people didn’t want her there. She looked pointedly
at the one with the close-cropped hair. He crossed a hand over his chest and
glared at her, as if he knew her thoughts and couldn’t care less.

“It’s okay.
I’m not that hungry.” As if to spite her, her stomach protested rather loudly.
The smell of eggs, bacon, something cheesy and no doubt delicious, all made her
really hungry.

Eli
laughed. “Sounds like you are.”

Vivienne
gave him a little grin.

Conall
suddenly turned his back to her. She recognized he was cooking eggs. Her brain
zoned in on just how good he looked holding that spatula. He paused and then
said, “Sloan, Raoul, meet Vivienne.” He turned the stove off and faced her.
“Vivienne, Sloan….” He pointed the spatula in the direction of the angry one,
“and Raoul.” He pointed to the beautiful one.

She didn’t
know why he was introducing her to them. It wasn’t likely that she’d ever seen
them, or him for that matter, again. She waved, mouthed a quick, “hi.” Raoul
smiled, a slow lifting of perfect lips to reveal straight, white teeth, as he
sauntered forward. A soft growl left Conall’s lips, shocking Vivienne, and
Raoul stopped a good foot from her.

“Pleasure
to meet you.” He actually bowed. Vivienne’s brows shot up. Was he serious? She
laughed softly. He was both beautiful and charming, a deadly combination.

Raoul rose
with a smile, and headed over to the table and pulled out her chair.

Oh, what
the hell?
Vivienne
thought. She’d already slept with Conall. All he was asking her to do was eat
breakfast before she left. This was one weird one-night stand.

She sat,
and Raoul proceeded to sit directly in front of her.

“Raoul,”
Conall’s voice was harsh. Blinking innocently, Raoul turned to him, and placed
both hands under his chin. “Yes?”

“Move.”

Vivienne
glared at his rude behavior.

“Why? I
always sit here—”

Conall took
a step forward and Raoul grinned and winked at her before jumping from the
seat. “Whatever you say.”

He moved to
one of the chairs at the head of the table instead. “
So,
Vivienne, how
did you meet Conall?”

“Raoul!”
That was Conall’s voice.

Vivienne
blushed and was spared from answering when Eli placed a plate of steaming eggs,
bacon, and two slices of buttered wheat toast before her. She thanked him and
he smiled.

“What would
you like to drink?” He paused and continued on when she didn’t immediately
respond. “We have orange juice, apple juice, fruit punch, milk, coffee, green
tea, black tea, jasmine tea—”

“I’m sure
she’ll answer if you let her,” Conall called from his position at the stove.
She noticed he was the one dishing out the food. Vivienne found it odd he
didn’t have a cook, or someone else to do that for him. He had maids, so she’d
assumed he’d have other help.

“Tea’s
fine,” Vivienne told Eli, who nodded and went about heating the water.

A few
minutes passed, with Sloan taking a seat opposite Raoul, his mountain of food
before him. Eli asked her questions about her tea. What kind? Milk? Sugar? She
found herself smiling at him. He was a sweet boy—erm…sweet…teen? She had to
keep reminding herself that despite his sweetness, this boy before her was
practically a man, a darn good-looking one, too. He was the type to have
teenage girls chasing after him, though she got the feeling he might not quite
know what to do with them.

By the time
everyone was seated, Vivienne was a great deal more relaxed. Conall sat
opposite and Eli next to him. Raoul kept his comments light and frivolous,
asking her where she worked, went to school, while Sloan said nothing. He
seemed only interested in glaring at her.

They ate.
Well, she ate heartily, and Conall seemed to enjoy watching her do so. When she
was finished, she patted her now swollen belly and spoke honestly. “This was
really good. Thank you.”

“I always
strive to please beautiful wom—” Raoul grunted before he could get anything
else out, and then coughed to cover it. She turned to Conall to find him
glaring at Raoul. She looked between the two men. They didn’t look like
brothers, but perhaps they were?

Eli’s voice
interrupted the standoff. “Did you like the tea?”

She smiled
and nodded. “Best tea I’ve had in years.”

He beamed.
Conall relaxed. He stood, and all of the men around the table did the same.
They began clearing away the dishes. Sloan approached Conall, and spoke in a
low voice. Whatever he said made Conall tense. Passing her a long glance, Sloan
nodded once and walked from the kitchen. Raoul was the next to leave. He was
gallant as ever. This time he took her hand, bowed over it and placed a
circumspect air kiss to the back. He beat a hasty retreat after that, and she
looked up to find Conall standing directly before her. He’d moved so quickly
she’d barely heard him.