“The witches?” Conall asked softly. Something Evelyn had mentioned was replaying in his mind. She’d said that Maximilian Cronin had killed both of her parents, and had been hunting her family for years. Since his arrival in New York, Cronin had been on the Council. Could it be Cronin?
“That’s my guess. It’s definitely not our people. We would have heard something before now, and Hastings would have heard if anything was happening with the vampires.”
There was no need to mention the fact that they had no contacts with the witches. Centuries of deserved suspicion on the parts of the weres and the vampires made it hard to give trust to any witch. Even now.
Conall sighed. “The compound’s secure?”
“Yea. Patrol started about three hours ago. Everyone’s accounted for. Raoul’s at Fangs.” Sloan paused and Conall knew from the silence that his beta was trying to figure out how to tell him something. No doubt something he wouldn’t like. “Some of the Elders aren’t happy about your human.”
Conall resisted the urge to snarl. “Who?”
“Gresham and Brennus are the most vocal about it. I’m not sure who else.”
He felt his body relax slightly. Their opposition was understandable, expected even. Samia was Brennus’s youngest, and the only of his children still with him. He also had the tendency to oppose everything that Conall did. Gresham was a loyal supporter of Brennus. Because they were usually the only two opposing him, he found it easy to ignore them. This was no exception.
He tugged against the collar of the T-shirt he’d borrowed from Max. The thing was tight on him, and he felt stifled. “I’ll be back tomorrow to smooth everything over with the Elders. Do you have this number?”
“The caller ID picked it up. Where are you and what happened to your phone? It goes straight to voicemail.”
“I’m in Scarsdale. My phone was incinerated. Trackers tried to take Vivienne.”
“What? The witches attacked you?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Call me here if anything happens.”
***
Drew had watched Conall gently lift Vivienne into his arms and follow Evelyn from the room. Prior to their leaving, the conversation had revolved around druids, and Max’s father. Like many other things she hadn’t known before today, she hadn’t known druids were real. She was finding it much easier to accept that surreal things were happening when they were spoken about in a normalized setting. Drew was contemplating that when she recognized she was now alone with Max.
A distinct chill crawled up her spine, and she scooted farther into the sofa. She wasn’t afraid he’d hurt her. She still trusted that Max never would. She just had no idea what to expect from him, which was damn scary.
He remained in the same position he’d maintained during the conversation with Conall and Evelyn. His upper body was pushed forward, his elbows against his thighs, chin resting against his hands, eyes downcast. Her feeling of agitation dimmed as she tried to read him. She’d never seen Max look like this before. Ever. Max was usually the life of everything, smiling, teasing, goading, even annoying, but she’d never seen him look…like his world had caved in around him? Then she remembered bits and pieces of the conversation about his father. From what she’d gathered, Max’s father was evil with a capital “E.” And she got the feeling that Max was taking it pretty hard.
As if sensing her stare, Max lifted his head. A lock of blond hair fell into his eyes as they each tried to figure out what the other was thinking. Max broke eye contact first by standing and walking over to the window. It was steadily growing dark outside, and she wondered if he was looking at anything in particular.
With his back to her, he said in a low voice, “Maybe you should go check on Vivienne.”
Drew was almost to the door when she paused. Instead of heading through the door and up the stairs, she walked over to him. The living room looked out on the large back yard, which Drew could barely see due to the oncoming darkness.
She looked up at him, taking in the strong jaw and straight nose and said the first thing that came to her mind. “I can’t believe you gagged me and tied me to your bed.”
His gaze never wavered from whatever it was that held his attention but he snorted softly. “Why not?”
“B-b-because,” she sputtered, glaring at him and shaking her head. “You just don’t tie people up and gag them, Max! What century are you living in?” She paused. “You were born in the twentieth century, right?”