Taken by Moonlight

“Yes.” Timothy cleared away the lump in his throat and looked to the space just to the left of the Grand Wizard. “After we followed her to the hotel, Ophelia found a bag with the woman’s address book. We used it to get to her apartment. Malachi and Jared left first. I followed after but I was too late. Jared was dead and Malachi was slowly being killed by Max.” Timothy paused as the scene replayed in his head.

After trying and failing to find the girl’s essence, he’d flashed himself to the apartment, where Jared and Malachi had gone. The other two had remained in the hotel, searching for any other clues. As soon as his body materialized, he’d heard the sounds of fighting. Silently, he’d crept toward the noise, and looked on in confusion as Max and Malachi attacked each other. He’d watched in mounting horror as Malachi killed Max, and then in absolute terror as Max came back from the dead, turned into something he’d never seen before, and returned the favor. He hadn’t waited around. Instead, he’d sent word to the others that they were to return to the covenant.

“So you fled?” the Grand Wizard interrupted. Timothy focused once more on the powerful leader of his covenant, noticing that his eyes had shifted to a witch’s black. He briefly wondered if Maximilian had been in his head, watching as his mind replayed that horrifying scene. He hadn’t felt him but he doubted anyone could feel the Elder’s presence in their mind.

Shaking his head, he answered, “Well, no. Max turned into—”

“I will deal with my son later.” His eyes shifted back to their normal hazel hue and he looked to Timothy. “You fled, isn’t that so?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Since you failed to bring the girl to me, did any of you find anything useful?”

Timothy nodded. “A picture, my lord. I found it in the girl’s room.”

***

It was a black and white portrait of two identical sisters. Both were seated on stools, smiling at the photographer. As Maximilian continued to stare at the portrait, a sinister smile touched his lips.

Twins. Of course. They were twins. He thought back to that day of their birth, when every witch had felt the surge of power usually associated with the birth or death of a powerful witch or druid. Only Grand Wizards and Elders had understood the true extent of the power, and even then, they hadn’t recognized it was two druids, not one. He grimaced, feeling a twinge of anger snake up his spine at being so tricked.

That witch had hidden well the fact she’d birthed twins. His lip curled in a snarl as he thought of her.

Evelyn, Annabel’s only child.

Like a few of their kind in the eighteenth century, Annabel, a beautiful female, had been the daughter of a druid and a witch. Many had vied for her attentions, including him, but she was not interested, and with her druid mother constantly hovering, no witch had openly challenged that stance. But then, she’d betrayed them.

At that time, there had been no Council to keep the peace between the creatures and every immortal defended his own. Trackers were sent out to get justice for their races. His covenant had been tracking a werewolf responsible for the death of two witches in Paris. Annabel had been with them. They’d tracked him to a small village and split into groups to find him faster. Annabel had disappeared. Even her essence could not be found, and their covenant announced her dead. Her mother blamed them, and as an important member in the druid circle, she’d created hostility between the druids and witches. Years later, they found the wolf, Henri Dumont, in Paris. It had been a bloody fight, but against three ancient witches, he was brought to heel and defeated.

Maximilian found out later why the animal had fought so viciously, refusing to die even when it was obvious he had no choice. It was desperation. He’d been protecting his mate and child.

Annabel had mated a wolf.

He’d barely glimpsed her angry, tear-stained face and extended belly before she vanished. It had taken many more years before he found her again, and when he did, it was without the child. By that time, the druids were no more, and the curse cast upon all witches and their descendants had devastated their community. Maximilian had sacrificed Annabel, along with the half-druid witches like her he’d found over the years, hoping to resurrect the druids and plead their clemency. When that failed, he’d searched for Annabel’s daughter, but she’d grown into her powers, had learned to shield herself from him, from even the most powerful of them.

Years had passed without him feeling or sensing her and then, Maximilian remembered the day clearly. He had felt the shift in dimensions, a stifling calm, as everything stood still for long seconds, as a new druid was born. The covenants had been in uproar, wondering who had birthed a druid with them all banished, and their hybrid descendants dead, but instinctively he’d known it was her.