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“Vivienne,” he began, relaxing his foot on the gas pedal. He was doing sixty-five in a forty mile-per-hour zone. That was probably scaring her as well. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” she replied quickly, too quickly. “Oh. Thanks for driving me home.”
Conall nodded. He wasn’t exactly driving her home. He was taking her home to see if he could find any clues as to exactly what his mate was, but he had no intention of leaving her there alone. Either he was staying or she would be returning to Cedar Creek with him. Whatever had been searching for her last night was no doubt still out there. As he’d told Samia, he always protected what was his. And Vivienne was definitely his.
The silence stretched between them until she finally asked, “It’s none of my business, but are you in a cult?”
Brows lifting, he shook his head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
A smile played around his lips. Many of the members of his pack would take offense to that. “Very sure.”
“What’s a blood rite, then?”
The smile faded. He could wipe that memory from her mind, but he didn’t want to. Plus, with her shields blocking him out, he’d have to break those down, hurt her in the process, and then pull that memory.
“It’s nothing.”
She snorted and murmured under her breath, “Sure you’re not in a cult.”
“I’m not.” And then he paused as he thought of the similarities between a cult and a pack. They lived together, kept to themselves, fought for each other, had weird behavior. She was right. He was in a cult, just not the one she was imagining.
“So tell me what a blood rite is,” she persisted. Conall quickly looked over at her. Her body was turned to him, her honey eyes open, trusting and curious.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.” She nodded to emphasize her answer.
“A blood rite is an act of vengeance between two wolves,” he said plainly.
“Okay,” she said, nodding as if she understood. Seconds later she shook her head, narrowed her eyes, and said, “Wait. I don’t understand. An act of vengeance?”
“Yes.”
“Between two wolves?”
“Yes.”
“So, why would Samia call for a blood rite against me?”
“Because she’s a wolf.”
That was met with a loud guffaw of laughter. Conall relaxed. At least she wasn’t throwing a hysterical fit and demanding that he stop the car. He could deal with her refusing to believe him. He couldn’t deal with her trying to run from him.
“I know she’s a bitch, but a wolf? That’s a stretch.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He smiled at her humor. Samia was a bitch, in both senses of the known word.
“Are you going to tell me you’re also a wolf?” she asked, relaxing in the seat and reaching into her bag.
“Yes.”
She chuckled. “Oh, I get it. You’re telling me you and Samia are werewolves?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve probably got some vampire pals as well?”
Conall wouldn’t call them “pals” but they had their uses. He nodded, knowing she wasn’t taking him seriously, but glad that he could talk freely.
“I’m forgetting something. Oh, yes. Demons? I’m guessing you have demon drinking buddies as well?”
“No, no demon friends.” Because demons didn’t actually exist. Humans had created that term for any creature unlike them. At different times in history, vampires, werewolves, witches, and other creatures had all been demons to them.
“Hmm, witches? What about witches? And warlocks? They’re your friends too, I’m guessing.”
“No.”
She nodded in an exaggerated way, a little smile lifting her lips. “So you don’t like demons, witches, or warlocks? Isn’t that some form of discrimina—?”
She was cut off by the ringing of her phone. He looked over as she pulled the object from her purse and placed it to her ear.
“Hey, Max. I’m sorry that I didn’t call—wait, slow down. What? Are you serious? We’ve been what?” Her voice had gone from calm to hysterical in the span of seconds. Conall’s ears perked up as he listened in to the conversation.
“Robbed, Vivienne. Someone broke in and trashed the apartment. The cops are there right now—”
“You’re serious? Oh my God. Was anyone there? Were you hurt? Where’s Drew?”
“We’re both fine. We’re staying at a friend’s place—”
“Where? Where are you?” He gave her the address and she jotted it down on a piece of paper she took from her bag.
