A body hit the floor and he turned his head to find one of the trackers lying prone on the ground. Within seconds, he disintegrated.
“She’s in Scarsdale,” Max grunted out. His human color had returned, but his face was ashen, and a hand held tightly to his side.
“The witches took her.”
“No, that was her mother. I’ve been to her house before so I can lead the way.”
Conall’s ears perked at that information. Her mother? Of course. If Vivienne was a witch, then at least one of her parents was a witch as well.
“Give me the directions.” He stood. Scarsdale was about an hour’s ride away from Cedar Creek, so about an hour and a half from the city. He would get them there in less than forty-five minutes. “Let’s go.”
A hand landed on his arm, and Conall spun angrily. He didn’t like to be touched without permission.
“You walk outside like that, and you’ll get arrested,” Max said, his voice strained. He was referring to Conall’s nakedness as well as the blood stains that covered most of his body. “Vivienne’s safe with Evelyn. She’s a strong witch, and she’s managed to hide her for twenty-three years.”
“Hide her?” Conall asked immediately, “Hide her from what?”
Max nodded and swallowed, the hand at his side tightening. “I’ll tell you everything I know. Just give me a minute.”
Conall’s gaze fell to the younger man’s hand. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah.” He paused and his eyes closed briefly before his hand dropped. When Max next opened his eyes, they were clear, and he seemed to breathe easier. “I need to change clothes.” He gave Conall a once-over. “And you need clothes. I’m sure I have something that’ll fit you.”
Conall’s lip curled upward but he didn’t protest. Max was right. He could walk outside as he was, and get into a brawl with a cop that would expose his race to the humans, or he could put on some form of clothing—no matter how tight it would probably be—and be on his way. When he thought of it like that, it wasn’t really an option.
***
Vivienne snuggled closer to the soft, cushiony pillow and opened her eyes. She was mid-stretch when her memory surfaced. Bolting upright, she looked around, homing in on the soft green walls and bay windows. She was in her old room, in her parents’ house. Strange, but she didn’t remember coming here. But everything had happened, hadn’t it? The ninjas in black, Conall turning into the wolf-man, Max turning blue, her mother?
At that moment, the door opened and the person in question strode in, a large smile on her face and carrying a tray of tea and Swiss chocolate biscuits.
Vivienne shot from the bed and pressed herself to the wall.
“Oh, ma chère,” Evelyn said softly, placing the tray on the covers before taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “You and Cassandre are dearer to me than my own life. I know you are afraid, and how could you not be, but everything I have done was for you and your sister.” She paused and closed her eyes, and Vivienne saw the sadness in her mother’s expression before Evelyn smiled once more and patted the bed. “Come, my Vivienne, sit down and I will explain everything.” She looked up at Vivienne and smiled, before turning her attention to the silver teapot.
Vivienne watched as she poured hot tea into two cups, and lifted one in her hands. Her mother took a sip and sighed.
“It’s your favorite—orange pekoe, and I remember how much you like Swiss chocolate biscuits,” Evelyn coaxed softly.
“What are you?” Vivienne asked, her voice trembling as she braced back against the wall.
“Won’t you sit, my Vivienne?” Evelyn asked softly, and then said, “I am a witch, but if the explanation were that simple I would not need you to sit as well.”
“What happened? Why—how did I get here?”
“You fainted, Vivienne. I brought you here.”
She nodded, and her gaze left her mother briefly to look around the room. “Where’s Drew?”
“Sleeping in the guest room. Much like you, she’s had a traumatic day.”
“Conall?”
Her mother’s dark brows lifted a fraction but she said, “I am sure he and Max are on their way here as we speak.”
Evelyn smiled and patted the bed once more. Vivienne cautiously took a seat at the edge of the mattress, her body ramrod straight as she faced her mother. Evelyn indicated the tea. “Drink the tea, ma chère. It will calm you.”
As she stared at the silver cup, her eyes narrowing. Her mother huffed and Vivienne lifted her eyes to the face she’d known, yet apparently not known, for years.