Conall immediately recognized the name, though his confusion must have shown on his face, for Evelyn clarified, “Maximilian Cronin the son, not the father.”
***
Max winced when he heard that name, sensing the tension from different sources in the room. “I am not my father. I mean Vivienne no harm.”
“Why should I believe you? You’ve been to this house numerous times in the past years as my daughter’s human friend, Max Carter,” Evelyn retorted and even though her voice never lifted, the anger behind it was palpable. “How can I be sure you haven’t given your father the address? How can I be sure your Grand Wizard isn’t planning an attack on my family as we speak?”
“Everything I’ve done was out of protection for Vivienne. I swear it.” He turned to look from Evelyn to Conall, whose eyes had narrowed and were following his every move. The eyes of a predator. “I didn’t know she was a witch when I first met her. By the time I found out, she was my friend and I’ve done everything since to keep her safe.” Max paused and decided to use another strategy. Logic. “If I wasn’t protecting her, I would have turned her over to the covenant when I learned her identity. I didn’t. If I wasn’t protecting her, I wouldn’t have fought against my own people to keep her safe.”
Conall shifted slightly, and Max noticed he had relaxed. Evelyn’s eyes were still frost-like as she looked at him.
“You still seem human,” she murmured after seconds of silence had passed. “But I know you’re not. What are you?”
Max explained as he’d explained to Drew and to Conall. Evelyn’s brows rose as if she didn’t believe him but then she nodded, as if pieces of the puzzle had suddenly come together in her head.
“If this is another trap concocted by your father to capture my daughters, I will find you, and I promise you, it will not be pleasant.” Though Evelyn’s voice was low, it seemed almost cordial. She pushed herself forward and placed her hands against her jean-clad knees, looking between Max and Conall. “I’ve been a poor hostess. By the way, Conall, my name is Evelyn Bordeaux. You can call me Evelyn, not Mrs. Bordeaux. It makes me sound old.” Conall blinked at the woman sitting before him. She continued on. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water? Coffee? I’ll bring tea. It’s a bit chilly in here.”
***
Vivienne could hear their voices, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She’d been sitting on the top stair since her mother, Conall, and Max entered the living room together. Although curious to know what they were discussing, she was also intent on keeping her sanity, and she was sure her brain was on overload at the moment.
She was just about to head back to her room to attempt to sleep away most of the day, when someone suddenly plopped down beside her. Vivienne jumped before she recognized Drew.
Her friend’s eyes were puffy, her face full from sleep.
“I had the weirdest dream,” Drew began, her voice scratchy. She cleared her throat and stared down the staircase. “I dreamed our apartment was robbed by witches who were after Max, who then attacked us at Max’s other apartment and oh, yes, the guy from the club that you kissed—he was in my dream too—he was some wolf creature….” Her voice trailed off as she looked around, her brows lifting in confusion. “In my dream your mother appeared and brought us back to her house.” She ran her hand over her braids and then pressed it against her eyes. “It was a dream, right?”
When Vivienne didn’t immediately answer, Drew’s eyes widened to the point of falling from her head and she pushed herself to her feet. Vivienne stood immediately, afraid her friend was about to do something rash, but Drew simply stared down at her T-shirt in horror.
“I was wearing this exact shirt in my dream.” She paused and looked at Vivienne’s clothing, the white blouse and the black slacks. “And you—you were wearing that as well.” Her gaze lifted to Vivienne’s. “Please tell me I’m still dreaming.”
Vivienne shook her head slowly. She was beginning to wish she were.
“And Max is really a combination of witch, warlock, and human?” Drew asked inquisitively.
“Is that what he is?” Vivienne wondered, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. I just know that he changed into something blue.”
“So the guy from the club—”
“Conall,” Vivienne automatically corrected.
“—what’s he supposed to be?”