Astrid gave him a wintery smile, which he returned.
“Men will give up even the most precious of secrets when you hold a pair of shears to their balls.”
Santiago’s smile faded, and he squirmed slightly in his chair. Astrid’s smile only grew larger.
“I find it curious they’re going to Stonehenge tomorrow night,” Eirik began slowly, turning to face Conall. “You told us you’re here for your mate, but you haven’t yet told us why she’s being held by two grand wizards.”
It had been subconscious, his reluctance to tell them exactly what his mate was, but he’d kept the secret anyway.
“My mate is one of the last two druids in the world,” Conall began, careful to read the expressions on the faces of Eirik and Astrid. They both wore looks of curiosity. “The other is her twin sister. Only a druid can resurrect the banished druids, and Cronin wants to use them to do that.”
Eirik arched a brow while Astrid stared at him as if he’d grown another head.
“He wants to resurrect the druids that his people banished?” Astrid finally asked.
Santiago released a dry laugh. “Yeah, we already established that he’s not the smartest fucker.”
“This is more serious than we thought,” Eirik began slowly. “The resurrection of the druids will affect every creature on this earth. Many of our brothers and sisters were killed in the crossfire of that war. If Cronin succeeds, we’ll likely have another war on our hands.”
“And we can’t take that risk.” Astrid looked between Conall and Santiago. “You each flew here with about a dozen of your hunters. I pledge mine to support your cause.”
“And I mine,” Eirik added.
Conall nodded once. He’d expected support from the two of them, and if they ever needed his support in the future, it would be offered just as freely.
“But as I’ve said, Wentworth’s covenant is quite large and if he’s seeing to it that Cronin resurrects the druids, he’ll be bringing them out in force tomorrow night.”
“So in other words, we’re going to be outnumbered,” Santiago said dryly. He sat forward and rolled his head around, cracking a few bones in the process. “Won’t be the first time.”
Astrid speared him with a look before pulling her cell phone from her leather jacket. She hit a button and held the phone to her ear. Her lip half curled as she replied, “Close, de Luca, but not quite.”
***
New York, New York
She awoke to darkness, her body feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Her attempt to move was halted by the warm duvet into which she was wrapped. She was thirsty. Her throat felt parched, dry. Swallowing didn’t help.
A cough left her lips and she yawned, wishing she had enough strength to lift her arms above her head and stretch. Her lids felt heavy once more so she lowered them and sighed.
She was falling back into a lulling sleep when something vicious twisted in the pit of her stomach, dragging a low cry of pain from her lips. The pain left almost as suddenly as it came, and her breathing grew labored as she struggled to bring herself under control. She’d just regained some semblance of control when the pain returned, a distinct wrench at her insides that propelled tears from her eyes, and a pitiful groan from her lips.
A door opened somewhere in the distance and then a man was leaning over her. Her vision was blurred by tears; the pain in the pit of her belly intensified.
“Drink.”
His voice was urgent, compelling, and he pressed something wet to her lips. She latched onto it, swallowing in great gulps, and feeling the dryness of her throat disappear, the fire in the fit of her belly retreat. Her hand managed to find the strength to push out of the duvet and grasp the lifeline that fed her. Her eyes were closed, cheeks wet with tears, but none of that mattered but the rich, sweet liquid flowing into her mouth, down her throat, nourishing her, healing her.
A cool hand touched her cheek. That is enough, little one.
She shook her head and continued to drink. It was good, so good, and she was hungry. A few more deep swallows later, and the lifeline was forcefully removed. She fought, but it was futile against his strength.
Opening her eyes, she stared up into the beautiful face of a dark-haired stranger and smiled her thanks. He slipped his hand under her head and positioned her against the downy pillows once more. She closed her eyes.
Sleep, Drusilla.
The voice that touched her mind was soothing. Her body immediately grew warm, preparing to enter the unconscious world once more. Before sleep took her, her last thought was of the name he’d called her. Drusilla. Was that her name? A little smile touched her lips. If it was, it was a very nice name.