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Verenus headed for the door. “And Lucian?” He looked over his shoulder at the door to the left of Lucian’s desk. It led to a hallway, which in turn led to the private bedroom where he kept Drusilla. “You may want to take your recently changed human to one of your country estates. While the members of your coven may not be able to, I can still smell residual traces of humanity in her, and if Keitaro was here, I’m sure he’d smell it, too.”
***
England
Vivienne must have fallen asleep at some point because when she next opened her eyes, Cronin stood directly before her with an expectant look on his face.
“Recite it.”
Without bothering to put up a fight, she did as he said.
“Very good.” He clapped his hands and a tracker stepped in with a tray overrun with food. “Eat. You’ll need your strength for tonight.”
He left soon after, and she sniffed at the food, trying to pinpoint anything that smelled like a drug, or poison. She was hungry. Her only relief came in knowing he wouldn’t kill her just yet. She was still needed.
Lifting the toast to her lips, she took a bite. After that, she couldn’t stop. She ate everything. The three slices of toast, the jam, the peanut butter, the eggs, and the fruit slices. And of course, she drank the cup of tea served with it.
Belly filled, she thought of Conall. There was a chance she wouldn’t see him again. If Maximilian’s plan went his way, and she would do everything possible to make sure it didn’t, there was no doubt in her mind he would attempt to kill her. Lying back on the bed, she closed her eyes and thought of her mate. She saw him standing before her right before he’d shown her his wolf, a devilish smile on his handsome face. She tried their connection once more, and wasn’t surprised when it failed. Conall Athelwulf, her mate. She would give anything to have him hold her, kiss her, touch her just once more, before….
She dragged a hand over her face and shook her head. Thoughts like those were best kept for when hope had failed. As long as she still breathed, there was hope.
***
The sun was setting, the burnt orange rays retreating slowly from her cell, when they came for her.
Cassandre’s heart beat furiously as she allowed the trackers to escort her from the place that had become her prison. Maximilian Cronin was nowhere in sight, but she knew she would see him soon. She was escorted to a black Jeep with tinted windows. It didn’t surprise her that two Jeeps of similar makes flanked the one into which she was put. Two female trackers sat on either side of her while two more sat in the front. She almost scoffed at her entourage.
It wasn’t as if she could escape even one of them, with her powers suppressed by these chains. Had the situation been different, Cassie would have smiled to think she were important enough to command an escort. But she was a prisoner about to change the course of history by resurrecting a people who were perhaps rightly banished. Even as she remembered Alexander’s “memories,” she knew they could have been staged. She wouldn’t put it past him.
Tears threatened when she thought of how selfish she was being. Even if the druids were a wicked people, she would resurrect them if it meant her family would be safe. And Cronin knew that. He exploited that fact by showing her the battered but alive body of her mother, explaining that she would see her sister when they arrived at Stonehenge. She shook her head and clenched her lids to stop the flow of tears, forcing herself to relax.
She had no plan, no nothing. Even without the chains, she didn’t think her powers were that strong. She blinked once, twice, and felt her lids grow heavy. When she opened them again, the ghostly woman with the long, flowing black hair and green eyes was standing before her again. Her eyes widened, but the woman only smiled. There was something familiar about that smile.
Help us, Cassandre. Break the curse that binds us, and you have my word that our people will seek no retaliation.
Who are you? Cassie asked, both frightened and intrigued by the woman. It was obvious she was a druid, but as the druids were all banished, except for Alexander at least, it seemed an anomaly that another druid could access her, even in sleep.
They called me Nicolette before…. The ghostly apparition smiled sadly and closed her eyes. Our people are not the murders and slayers that we are made out to be. We embrace our family above all else. Do not fear us, Cassandre. There is nothing to fear.
Not one to trust apparitions easily, Cassandre wondered if Alexander was somehow making her appear.
The black-haired woman shook her head immediately. Do not blame Alexander, Cassandre. My time is limited, else I would explain everything to you. Follow your instincts, my child, for they will never lie to you.
