Taken by Moonlight

“Max, what are you doing?” Vivienne began in confusion. Conall twisted his head slightly, relaxing the tension there, and took a step in the friend’s direction. Most humans had a sixth sense, but this one obviously didn’t, and he was going to take pleasure in knocking some into him. He was just about to reach forward and haul Vivienne from her stupid friend, when he froze. The air had suddenly thickened, and with his heightened senses, Conall could feel the barely concealed power coming from Max. Witch.

His lip curled upward, and his body tensed for an attack. Vivienne’s friend was a witch, one who could disguise himself as human. He doubted she knew that, but the friend certainly did. And then he remembered the phone call, that a witch had been tracking Vivienne last night. That, and the fact that a witch was standing between him and his mate, the same witch who’d dragged his mate away from him days ago, propelled him into action.

***

Vivienne was getting sick of the men in her life pushing her around like a rag doll. First Conall at Cedar Creek and now Max. She was just about to let her feelings be known when Max was thrown clear of her. It took her brain a few seconds to realize that Max, who’d been standing inches before her, was now crumpled against the wall at the opposite side of the lobby, and Conall had been the one to throw him. Her mouth opened on a scream, knowing her friend had to have broken bones, but snapped shut when Max pushed himself up so quickly her eyes could barely catch it, and tackled Conall. They went crashing to the floor amidst grunts and curses.

She dropped her bag to the floor as she watched her best friend and Conall pummel each other. The fight was so fast it looked an action movie on fast-forward. Max caught Conall with a hard punch to the face and Vivienne was certain she heard bones cracking before Conall recovered and delivered a stunning kick to Max’s stomach. Max barely doubled over before they launched at each other once more. Vivienne’s horrified gaze followed them as they moved from wall to wall, from the ground to standing up, and then finally, she found her voice and screamed.

“STOP!”

Chapter Seven

There was no glance in her direction, no grunt of acknowledgement from either of the two men. They continued on, punching, kicking, and slamming, beating the living hell out of each other. Vivienne looked from one to the other, noticing no one was yet bleeding, but in a few a seconds that would likely change. Every instinct in her body told her neither would stop until the other was badly injured or worse. She knew Max was deadly in martial arts, as she’d taken a class with him, but Conall was large and muscular, using his towering body to slam Max into walls. His fists reigned down on her friend.

“Conall, Max. Stop it!” she yelled, lifting her hand to her face and wincing at the sickening sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Once more, she was ignored. Vivienne looked around, trying to find anything that would aid her in getting these two apart. Nothing. She couldn’t even find a fire extinguisher, though she doubted that would work. Her palms grew sweaty as her heart thumped painfully in her chest. She didn’t have a choice.

Running over to them, she waited for an opening. She had to get them apart. Why were they fighting anyway? It wasn’t as if they knew each other! The opening came when Conall shoved Max clear of him. Max reeled back and Vivienne caught sight of the bleeding cut at his brow before he righted himself. Almost as if in slow motion, Conall straightened to his full height, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes seemed to glow a brilliant color, so bright it was almost yellow. His fists uncurled slowly at his sides.

Max’s hazel eyes, which were usually relaxed and smiling, were watchful and alert. There was a distinct silence in the air, so quiet she could hear the rapid thump of her heart, the slight flutter of Conall’s jacket when he shifted slightly. Vivienne could now say she understood the meaning of the calm before the storm. This was it. And one hell of a storm was coming. She didn’t know how else to put it, but she could sense it.

Conall lowered his head and took a deliberate step in Max’s direction. Something flashed in his eyes and Vivienne panicked. They were going to kill each other if she didn’t do something. A taunting grin appeared on Max’s lips, and Conall snarled, moments before both each headed for the other. A wave of fear, frustration, and anger settled over her. A sharp pain touched her temples, quickly moving to her forehead, then the back of her head. It felt like the beginning of a migraine. Shaking her head, she lifted her voice and projected, “Stop. Just…stop.”