Taken by Moonlight (19 page)

“Vivienne?”

“Max?”

“Vivienne,
I’ll buzz you—Are you alone?”

Conall
glared at the grungy white voice box. Vivienne turned to him. “No. I have a
friend with me. Is it okay if he comes up?”

He felt a
surge of pride. His hand at her back looped around her tiny waist, pulling her
against his side.

“I’ll meet
you downstairs.” Max’s voice was curt and Conall fought the urge to slam his
fist against the intercom.

Vivienne
suddenly turned to face him and the look on her face told him she was about to
say something that he wouldn’t like. “Thanks for bringing me here. Maybe it
would be best if I went upstairs alone. You don’t have to feel obligated to
come upstairs with me.”

“I don’t. I
want to,” he interrupted smoothly.

She
released a sigh and Conall pulled her tighter against his body. “I can’t
believe someone robbed my apartment.”

He was just
about to reply when a young woman suddenly pulled open the door, smiled, and
held it for them. Vivienne murmured her thanks and Conall held the door as she
stepped into the lobby. It was gray, gray tiles and a dirty wall that might
have been white or cream at some point. A white light flickered above them and
Vivienne hugged herself. Conall stepped closer to her.

The sound
of an elevator arriving touched his ears moments before a door at the end of
the lobby opened. A man stepped through, approaching them slowly. It took
Conall seconds to recognize him. Max was the same friend who’d ripped Vivienne
away from him at the club.

“Vivienne,”
Max began, heading in their direction, but then he slowed and came to a direct
stop when his gaze landed on Conall. He waited for recognition to hit the
human’s eyes, barely concealing his need to walk over to and the man and give
him a solid right to the face. He needed Vivienne to trust him, and knocking
her friend out, no matter how much he wanted to, wasn’t going to make that
happen.

That was
his train of thought until Vivienne moved quickly, throwing herself against her
friend, and Max, hugging her quickly, proceeded to push her behind his body.

“Max, what
are you doing?” Vivienne began in confusion. Conall twisted his head slightly,
relaxing the tension there, and took a step in the friend’s direction. Most
humans had a sixth sense, but this one obviously didn’t, and he was going to
take pleasure in knocking some into him. He was just about to reach forward and
haul Vivienne from her stupid friend, when he froze. The air had suddenly
thickened, and with his heightened senses, Conall could feel the barely
concealed power coming from Max.
Witch.

His lip
curled upward, and his body tensed for an attack. Vivienne’s friend was a
witch, one who could disguise himself as human. He doubted she knew that, but
the friend certainly did. And then he remembered the phone call, that a witch
had been tracking Vivienne last night. That, and the fact that a witch was
standing between him and his mate, the same witch who’d dragged his mate away
from him days ago, propelled him into action.

Vivienne
was getting sick of the men in her life pushing her around like a rag doll.
First Conall at Cedar Creek and now Max. She was just about to let her feelings
be known when Max was thrown clear of her. It took her brain a few seconds to
realize that Max, who’d been standing inches before her, was now crumpled
against the wall at the opposite side of the lobby, and Conall had been the one
to throw him. Her mouth opened on a scream, knowing her friend had to have
broken bones, but snapped shut when Max pushed himself up so quickly her eyes
could barely catch it, and tackled Conall. They went crashing to the floor
amidst grunts and curses.

She dropped
her bag to the floor as she watched her best friend and Conall pummel each
other. The fight was so fast it looked an action movie on fast-forward. Max
caught Conall with a hard punch to the face and Vivienne was certain she heard
bones cracking before Conall recovered and delivered a stunning kick to Max’s
stomach. Max barely doubled over before they launched at each other once more.
Vivienne’s horrified gaze followed them as they moved from wall to wall, from
the ground to standing up, and then finally, she found her voice and screamed.

“STOP!”

There was
no glance in her direction, no grunt of acknowledgement from either of the two
men. They continued on, punching, kicking, and slamming, beating the living
hell out of each other. Vivienne looked from one to the other, noticing no one
was yet bleeding, but in a few a seconds that would likely change. Every
instinct in her body told her neither would stop until the other was badly injured
or worse. She knew Max was deadly in martial arts, as she’d taken a class with
him, but Conall was large and muscular, using his towering body to slam Max
into walls. His fists reigned down on her friend.

“Conall,
Max. Stop it!” she yelled, lifting her hand to her face and wincing at the
sickening sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Once more, she was ignored. Vivienne
looked around, trying to find anything that would aid her in getting these two
apart. Nothing. She couldn’t even find a fire extinguisher, though she doubted
that would work. Her palms grew sweaty as her heart thumped painfully in her
chest. She didn’t have a choice.

Running
over to them, she waited for an opening. She had to get them apart. Why were
they fighting anyway? It wasn’t as if they knew each other! The opening came
when Conall shoved Max clear of him. Max reeled back and Vivienne caught sight
of the bleeding cut at his brow before he righted himself. Almost as if in slow
motion, Conall straightened to his full height, his nostrils flaring, and his
eyes seemed to glow a brilliant color, so bright it was almost yellow. His
fists uncurled slowly at his sides.

Max’s hazel
eyes, which were usually relaxed and smiling, were watchful and alert. There
was a distinct silence in the air, so quiet she could hear the rapid thump of
her heart, the slight flutter of Conall’s jacket when he shifted slightly.
Vivienne could now say she understood the meaning of the calm before the storm.
This was it. And one hell of a storm was coming. She didn’t know how else to
put it, but she could sense it.

Conall
lowered his head and took a deliberate step in Max’s direction. Something
flashed in his eyes and Vivienne panicked. They were going to kill each other
if she didn’t do something. A taunting grin appeared on Max’s lips, and Conall
snarled, moments before both each headed for the other. A wave of fear,
frustration, and anger settled over her. A sharp pain touched her temples,
quickly moving to her forehead, then the back of her head. It felt like the beginning
of a migraine. Shaking her head, she lifted her voice and projected, “Stop.
Just…stop.”

Even the
migraine listened. As quickly as it had started, the headache vanished, leaving
Vivienne clear-headed and slightly disoriented. She quickly opened her eyes to
scan what damage Max and Conall had done to each other but they were both
focused on her. Max’s eyes were wide. He blinked rapidly in her direction,
while Conall had cocked his head to the side in an inquisitive manner that for
some reason reminded her of a wolf.

Why are
they staring at me like that
?
Vivienne’s gaze moved from one to the other.

With that
command, Vivienne had unlocked a hidden part of herself, and both men could
both feel waves of raw power flowing unhindered from her body. To add to that,
a hazy yellow glow surrounded her, making her appear more goddess than any
creature of earth.

“What?” She
said it as if it were the only reasonable question to ask of the two macho-men
who had just halted their fight-night simply to stare at her.

At her
voice, Max sprung into action, turning his body to face Conall, who in turn
glared at him. “We have to get out of here. Now. With a signal like that,
trackers will be here in a minutes.”

“Trackers?”
Conall asked tersely, his body tensing once more. “Why are trackers after
Vivienne and how do I know you’re not one of them?”

“What are
you two talking about? What are trackers?” Max turned to Conall and kept his
reply short. “I’m not one of them, and I don’t have time to prove that to you
now. You either trust me or risk your mate’s life!” He paused and let that sink
in. He could tell Conall had mated Vivienne. The scent was high on her skin,
and though he was unsure how, as the joining of a witch and
were
was
strictly forbidden in his covenant, Max was willing to stake his life on the
fact that Conall would kill himself before allowing anything to happen to
Vivienne. He didn’t like the guy, especially as he hadn’t recognized his animal
nature when the human part of him had been intoxicated that night at Fangs, but
he had to figure out a way to bind her powers, and then they had to get out of
there.

Conall
relaxed slightly, though the severity of his glare did not change. Satisfied
that he was listening, Max continued, “We have to leave now.”

The
werewolf nodded, and Max realized they’d come to an interim decision. Good.

Vivienne
felt once more like a fly on the wall. They weren’t even listening to her, and
although irritated, a feeling of absolute contentment had settled across her
body. She felt refreshed, alive, as one did after a five-mile run or a dip in a
cold lake.

Conall
approached her, obstructing her view of Max with his towering body, and his
hand came up to touch the side of her face. She leaned into his touch, and
barely repressed the urge to sigh in contentment. She wondered if he could
sense that, for his eyes heated, and his gaze briefly fell to her lips before
he spoke. “You won’t understand any of this now, but we need to leave. I’ll
take you back to Cedar Creek.”

She lifted
her brows and shook her head, feeling his hand move against her cheek as she
did so. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vivienne turned to
Max. It was impossible to see him with Conall’s broad shoulders blocking her.
“You two were just fighting, beating the hell out of each other for some
unknown reason and now—now you’re best friends? I’m confused. Really confused.
Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Conall’s
lips parted, and Vivienne prepared to hear something that would make sense. She
heard an elevator ding. His lips merged together once more.

“Let’s go.
This way.” That was Max’s voice and Conall shifted his body slightly to look at
Max. Vivienne caught a glimpse of Drew, standing wide-eyed in one of her long
T-shirts, and staring at Max with an expression of shock on her face. Drew must
have come down recently, when Conall’s body was blocking her view of
everything.

Seeing Drew
standing beside Max, perfectly all right, reminded Vivienne of the robbery, and
how it could have turned out much worse. She sidestepped Conall to throw her
arms around her friend. Drew tensed at first, but after recognition kicked in,
her arms closed tightly around Vivienne’s shoulders. As Drew’s body shook,
Vivienne rubbed her back, telling her that it would be all right, that
everything was replaceable, figuring that Drew was still in shock over the
robbery.

“Oh my God,
Viv,” Drew began, only to have Max pull her back.

“Later,” he
told Drew, his gaze steady. He looked to Conall, then Vivienne. “We’re running
out of time. Let’s go.”

Conall’s
hand closed over her arm, and he practically dragged her toward the exit,
because her half-walk, half-tug at his arm, could not be considered following.
The door was a yet few feet away when a loud, staticky noise, reminiscent of
nails being dragged across the blackboard combined with a scrambled television
channel, touched her ear. Both Vivienne and Drew watched in fascination, then
disbelief, and finally horror as a black hole appeared directly before them.
The wall had disappeared, the dark pit all that remained. What was even crazier
was that people started walking out of it, one after the other, men dressed
from head to toe in black garb. Immediately, Conall pushed her behind him and
began to move back. Max did the same with Drew, who whimpered at the sight.

“Oh my
God,” Drew began to incant. Vivienne noticed her friend was shaking her head
and peeking out from behind Max to look at the spectacle. Vivienne did the
same, and gasped at the number of men that now stood where the hole had been.
She counted five before she stopped and stared at the man standing slightly
forward, in the center. Dressed like the others but for the face mask, he
seemed to be thirty or forty, and with his thin, pointed features, looked more
accountant than ninja.

Information
sometimes has a way of bypassing the brain as it goes through the eyes. It was
in that moment that the shock of what she’d just seen hit Vivienne. She
couldn’t have seen what she’d just seen, she reasoned, and then took another
peek from behind Conall to prove herself right.
Wrong.
The men were
still there, looking ominous and staring at Conall and Max. Her eyes traveled
down their bodies, widening when she recognized weapons. Swords, long, thin
blades, hung at their sides.