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“And how do you know someone from his covenant will mess up?” Raoul countered from his space behind Conall.
Eirik turned his attention to the Spaniard, and smiled, revealing gleaming canines. He’d just opened his mouth to answer when a firm, feminine voice chimed, “Because they always do when they first come to London. They think it’s like the cities in the States, where a scent can be lost almost instantly. Especially the amateurs. If we patrol tonight we’re bound to find one of them. With the right amount of persuasion, he’ll tell us everything he knows.”
“That’s leaving it up to chance. This is my mate’s life we’re talking about.” Conall growled. He didn’t like this plan. He didn’t like this plan one bit.
Astrid turned to face him. She was the only female pack alpha in the UK, one of three in total, and she was by far the most beautiful. The daughter of an Amazon and a Viking, Astrid looked otherworldly even among immortals. Although she had pale features, from her skin to her pale green eyes, her lips were thick, her cheeks high, traits from her mother’s people. Even her flaxen hair was curly, loose ringlets she usually kept bound and piled atop her head.
“We understand, Athelwulf. You are naturally afraid for your mate. But this is our territory, and we have seen it before. Before the day is over, we will know the location of your mate.” She approached him slowly, before dipping her head and placing a small but strong hand on his shoulder. “On my honor.”
He nodded once. There weren’t many options. He was in unfamiliar territory. He’d tried his bond with Vivienne to pinpoint a location, but it was as if she never existed. Had they completed the mating ceremony, he might have been able to pick up a faint trail. Conall couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive…. But she must be alive, if only because Cronin needed her and her sister to resurrect the druids.
Conall felt helpless. If Eirik and Astrid were both endorsing this plan, he’d go with it. Once they helped him find his mate and locate the bastard who’d taken her, he’d go along with anything.
***
“Learn it.”
Vivienne stared down at the spell book before glaring up at the man in distaste. Her mother had always told her to respect her elders, but if not for these chains, she would have kicked his ass somewhere far. Her druid might have retreated but her rage was still there.
“Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill your mother.”
She scoffed, and Cronin lifted a brow. “Learn it.”
“No.”
His lip curled slightly, and then he called for someone. Moments later, Evelyn was brought in by two trackers. An involuntary scream left Vivienne’s lips at her mother’s state. She was still dressed in the same clothes she’d been taken in, but they were ragged and bloodied, as if something or someone had attacked her. She wasn’t walking either, but being dragged. When the trackers finally stopped, Evelyn’s head continued to hang forward as if the effort required to lift it was simply too much. Black hair curtained her head, blocking her face from view.
“Learn. It.” Maximilian pummeled his cane against the page in the spell book.
Vivienne wasn’t listening to him. She stood, rattling the chains that held her, and whispered, “Mom?”
Evelyn’s only response was jerk of her head.
“What have you done to her?”
He smiled and replied, “Nothing she won’t survive.” The smile faded and he looked down to the book. “Pick it up.”
When Vivienne didn’t move quickly enough, he nodded to one of the trackers, who retrieved a shiny dagger. The other tracker dragged her mother up, exposing her dirtied and bloodied face, as well as her neck.
Evelyn barely opened her eyes, squinting against the light. Her gaze locked on Vivienne and her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Still, a little smile curled them up.
“What will it be, Vivienne? Learn the spell or lose your mother.”
Swallowing, Vivienne turned to him. Her body was shaking as she said, “You are an evil bastard.”
“Actually, according to my birth records, I’m quite legitimate,” he responded coolly. “What choice will you make?”
She reached down for the spell book, and quickly scanned the Latin words. It wasn’t a long spell, barely five lines, with the word, “reddo” at the end. Repeat.
“It won’t work while I wear these chains,” she said softly.
Cronin laughed. “And you would like me to remove them so that you can destroy me, and possibly my entire covenant? How stupid you think me.” The laughter disappeared. “I’ll return in a few hours, and you’ll repeat that spell to me verbatim. If not, your mother dies.”
