Taken by Moonlight (27 page)

Cassandre
blew out a frustrated breath, tugged the thin sheet farther up her body, and
stared ahead.

“Why am I
still having this dream?” she muttered under her breath. “Better yet, why are
you in it?”

Alexander’s
laughter, like everything else that came from that man, was beautiful. It
started out with a deep rumble, and erupted gracefully from his lips.

“Because
you need me as much as I need you.”

If that had
been said with any type of sexual reference, she would have jumped from the
bed, and begun pinching herself—or so she told herself. But it was said
pointedly, as if that were the only possible answer.

“And again,
this is not a dream.”

Cassie
sighed. She was going to wake up soon and when she did, she was calling her
mother and asking her what repetitive dreams meant.
Strange.
Why did she
think to call her mother over the dream? It wasn’t as if Evelyn was
particularly superstitious. She’d probably tell Cassandre to stop being
paranoid. Her mother, the practical one.

She turned
to look at Alexander, “Yeah, okay. If this is not a dream, what is it?”

“This.” The
word rolled off of his tongue as he lifted his hands to indicate everything
around them. “This is my prison.”

Cassie
couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and tossed the thin
sheet from her body. Her toes were buried in the warm sand when she looked over
her shoulder at him. “Some prison.”

She lifted
her gaze skyward, hoping she would perhaps catch a glimpse of some exotic,
extinct creature.

“Just
because a place is beautiful does not make it any less of a prison.”

“Right,”
she dragged that word out and shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you
know, just so that I can tell my future shrink about this: I’m not dreaming,
I’m in your home, which happens to be your prison, and your name is Alexander.”

“Yes.” The
bed shifted. “What do you know of the druids?”

“Ah, shit,”
Cassie murmured, shaking her head and running a hand across her face. And now
the dream was beginning to make sense. Years after college, and she was still
being tortured by her Classics course. It had been called “Celtic Lore” and
she’d been bored, and because of said boredom, curious. She’d ended up taking
the class, hating the professor who rushed through everything and didn’t seem
to know much about anything, and had ended up with an A minus in the class. It
wasn’t a bad grade, necessarily, but for the neurotic girl who got straight As
in everything, it was unacceptable. “If this is my new way of coping with a
grade that doesn’t even matter anymore, I seriously need help.”

He didn’t
say anything for a long time and Cassie thought that perhaps he’d disappeared.
She looked over her shoulder, viewing the perfectly formed feet of the man next
to her. She ended up glaring at his feet. Which guy had perfect feet? Only in
dreams!

“So you’re
like the new, better looking version of Professor Khan, right?”

“No.” He
didn’t elaborate beyond that before repeating, “What do you know about the
druids?”

“They’re
dead?” she scoffed, and then stood. Stretching her body, she eyed the water.
Maybe tomorrow night she’d fall asleep in her bathing suit, and then she could
just swim and ignore everything—
everyone
—else.

She began
walking toward the water, deciding she was going to hike her sweats up and walk
in the shallow part. Cassie had successfully managed to forget that Alexander
was in her dream when he appeared in front of her.

“Shit!” she
screeched, backing away so quickly she almost toppled over. His hands steadied
her, even as she let loose a stream of profanities that would make her mother
blush. Her gaze flew to the now empty bed, and then back to him. It was a
dream. Things weren’t supposed to make sense.

“Did your
mother tell you about the druids?”

Cassie
sighed and shook her head. “And now you’re mentioning my mother…because I
haven’t spoken to her in a while, huh?” She looked away from him, feeling
guilty as she thought of the days, maybe weeks, that she hadn’t called home.
“I’ll call her when I wake up.”

His hands
tightened against her arms and she glared at him. His eyes were serious now and
she thought that in that moment they were definitely green. An extremely pale
green.

“The druids
are not dead.” He paused as if expecting her to interrupt. When she didn’t, he
continued on. “They were banished, sent to a dismal existence at the pinnacle
of death, but not quite there.” When she simply stared up at him stupidly,
Alexander asked, “Have you ever heard of limbo?”

Her eyes
grew hooded. “Limbo?”
As in edge of Hell, Catholic-fearing, limbo?

“It is very
similar to that limbo.” His arms slowly fell to his sides and Cassie felt a chill
snake through her body. She dismissed it as being as result of her standing in
the water, even though it was very warm. “They exist on different planes,
waiting, watching, unable to choose life and yearning for death.” His voice had
dropped an octave and those pale of eyes seemed to glow.

Cassie
swallowed. This dream was seriously beginning to unnerve the hell out of her.

“Right.
What does this have to do with me?”

“For
centuries, the druids have searched for a way back.”

“Way back?”

“To the
living,” he clarified. “You are the key to their return.”

Cassie’s
head bobbed. It was becoming an automatic reaction in this dream. “Uh huh. So I
can bring these druids back to life?”

“Yes.” He
lifted his eyes to the sky before returning them to her face. “When the time
comes, you’ll have to ask yourself if you want to.”

Cassie
couldn’t have looked more confused if she tried.

She blinked
then gasped when she opened her eyes and found herself back on the bed. Her
feet were dry, the thin sheet was pooled at her waist, and Alexander was next
to her. His hands were under his head and one leg was bent at the knee as he
stared up at the clear sky.

“I know
you’re confused now, but you will understand everything soon.” He suddenly
pushed his body up, so that he was braced against the headboard, as she was.

“Before you
can make that decision, you must know their story.” Alexander murmured so
softly that Cassie had to lean closer to hear him.

“Centuries
ago….” When he spoke, it was as if everything listened. The sounds of the beach
faded and his voice took their place. She found herself drawn to that voice,
hearing the softest syllable roll off his tongue like liquid mercury. Closing
her eyes, she witnessed the range of images painted by his voice. As he
continued with the story of things that shouldn’t—
couldn’t
—exist, Cassie
found herself deeply interested in what he was telling her.

Conall
returned to Cedar Creek early the next morning.

He hadn’t
slept the night before. Instead, he’d taken to doing hourly sweeps of the
house, before stretching out atop the covers next to Vivienne. By the time dawn
arrived, the muscles in his back and neck were tense, and he could feel the
beginnings of a serious headache. Most
weres
weren’t particularly
friendly after sleepless days and nights. He left Vivienne, still sleeping,
only after assuring himself that currently this was the safest place for her at
the moment. He would return soon.

The first
thing he did upon returning to his house was activate one of the countless
Verizon phones he had. Most of his pack had at least one spare phone, in case
of emergencies. He’d just plugged the cell phone up to its charger when there
was a slight knock. Sloan entered the office. It was sometime after six in the
morning but he wasn’t surprised to find his beta awake. He’d found out
centuries ago that Sloan disliked sleeping. He was probably the one
were
Conall had ever met who disliked sleep.

Sloan
closed the door and stood before it. When seconds passed with Sloan simply
staring at him, Conall snapped, “What?”

The calm
expression on his friend’s face never faltered. “The Elders are here. They’re
demanding to see you now.”

Conall
glared at the clock on the wall. It was six thirty five, to be exact. How did
they even know he was here?

“They saw
your truck,” Sloan replied, anticipating the question.

He drew in
a deep, steadying breath. The headache was growing in intensity and both the
human and animal part of him were irritable. Sighing, he sat down in the
burgundy leather chair before his desk and tried to calm himself. He would have
to face the Elders sometime, and despite the ridiculously early hour, now was
as good a time as ever.

“Send them
up.” He closed his eyes, feeling Vivienne despite being miles away.

“Are you
sure?” Sloan asked quietly. An emotion flickered quickly in those metal-gray
eyes before it vanished. Conall recognized concern.

He nodded.
“I’ll have to speak with them at some point.”

Sloan
nodded and left. By the time the Elders arrived, Conall had managed to grab hold
of his temper. He’d leashed it, so to speak, but still it lurked.

“Gentlemen.
Ladies,” he acknowledged in greeting, staring at the five ancients who looked
for the most part like casually dressed, middle-aged humans, approaching him.
Brennus led the way, followed by Gresham, Latriel, Zahira, and Verity. Two had
scowls on their faces; the rest wore masked expressions.

“What do
you think you’re doing?” That question came directly from Brennus, who glared
at him as if he’d done him a personal wrong.

“Please…sit.”
Conall waved his hand in the direction of the chairs and sofas that the Elders
had bypassed.

Brennus and
Greshman ignored him as Latriel, Zahira, and Verity moved to take seats.

“There are
laws,
ancient laws
, that govern us! No one is above the law.” Brennus
might have well said “You are not above the law” because the pointed stare he
gave Conall after stating it told the alpha all he needed to know.

“
Weres
do
not mate humans! And it is common courtesy to seek the blessing of your Elders
when you decide to mate! Our law—”

Latriel
made a slight sound that brought Conall’s attention to him. He was glaring at
Brennus’s back. He hadn’t had a meeting with the Elders in years, and had
forgotten that Latriel was Brennus’s biggest heckler, and vice versa. That
thought leashed the temper that was already threatening to come forth.

“It has
been done before,” Latriel interjected easily, earning a glare from Brennus.
Latriel, who was a few hundred years Brennus’s senior, continued in his droll
voice. “Perhaps we should let our alpha speak?”

Brennus
looked ready to object, but he eventually took a seat and lifted an arrogant
brow at Conall. Gresham followed suit.

“There is
no written law against the joining of two different species—”

“Most of
our laws are not written, but passed down,” Gresham interrupted.

“That rule
was passed down to prevent the unnecessary death of innocent humans.”

“And is
your
human
not innocent?” Brennus challenged snidely.

Conall felt
his patience give. The amiable expression fell from his face and his voice was
like a whiplash when he said, “Her name is Vivienne.” He paused, waiting to see
if Brennus or Greshman would say something—anything—to set him off. They
didn’t.

Tearing his
eyes away from Brennus, he looked to the other Elders. Zahira, one of the two
females, the other being Verity, were staring curiously at him. No one was
certain of Zahira’s age as she remembered little of her life before being
rescued by her mate’s pack, but one thing was certain: she was strong. She’d
been the alpha bitch to her own pack before an attack killed her mate. After,
she’d walked alone until she stumbled upon his pack, at that time led by his
brother. She’d been staying with them when a larger pack had attacked. Conall
had been strong, Gregory had trained him personally, but he’d been young and
lacked the stamina of a seasoned warrior. Exhaustion had almost gotten him
killed, before Zahira stepped in and viciously killed a wolf twice her size.
Gregory repaid her loyalty by offering her a home with them. Since then, she’d
never left his side.

“She isn’t
human.”

Brennus and
Gresham began speaking once more, their voices overlapping each other as they
both sought to condemn him for lying to the Elders.

“Do you
think we’re fools—”

“—we’ve
seen her—”

“She
certainly smells human.”

Conall’s
fists clenched as his wolf demanded release. His canines lengthened, piercing
his tongue, even as he struggled to rein in the beast. What was happening to
his control? He’d done meetings like this countless times, with Brennus being
the key agitator, Gresham his cheerleader, but his wolf was always peaceful,
bored even.