Night's Promise (14 page)

Deciding on a glass of milk and a muffin for breakfast, she carried them into the great hall and sat on one of the sofas.

“I’ll take you out to dinner later,” Derek promised, sitting beside her.

“I’d like that. Have you ever been here before?”

He shook his head. “First time. Mara’s got places all over the world.”

“Really?”

“Most vampires who have a few hundred years under their belt keep multiple lairs. They can’t stay in one place too long, you know. People start to wonder why they don’t age, why they don’t have children or visitors. So they keep several places for when it’s time to move on.”

“Do you have more than one . . . lair?”

“Not yet. I’m still young. I’ve got a little place in Sacramento. I thought I’d start looking for another one, assuming I’m still a vampire after the full moon.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, then asked casually, “Any place you’d like to live?”

The question, which implied a lasting relationship, filled her with warmth. “A few years ago, my parents took me to Italy on vacation. I’ve always wanted to go back.”

She ate the last of the muffin, drained the glass and set it aside.

When Derek slipped his arm around her shoulders, she snuggled against him. “Do you need to rest?”

“No, I’m good.” Which was odd, he mused. He usually wasn’t able to be awake this long during the day. Another perk of Sheree’s blood, he wondered? Or an unexpected side effect of the werewolf gene? There was no way of knowing. But it didn’t matter. He was content to stay where he was, with Sheree beside him.

Of course, he couldn’t sit there without touching her, kissing her. Before long, they were stretched out on the sofa, arms and legs entwined. Slowly at first, he explored her body, as she explored his, each caress longer, bolder, more intimate than the last.

And that was how Mara and Logan found them.

At the sound of amused laughter, Sheree bolted upright, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

“Ah, young love,” Logan remarked, waggling his eyebrows. “Ain’t it grand?”

“I doubt if you can remember what it was like, old man.” Derek sat up, his arm wrapping around Sheree in an unmistakably male gesture of protection.

“Old man!” Logan looked at Mara. “Are you going to let your son talk to me like that?”

“Do you remember?” Mara asked with a beguiling smile.

Logan’s eyes turned smoky with desire. “Want me to show you?”

“Later.” She cuffed him on the arm, then looked at Derek. “How do you feel?”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

“No cravings?” Mara glanced at Sheree, her brow furrowed.

“No.” Derek rubbed his jaw, his expression thoughtful, and then, he, too, glanced at Sheree.

She fidgeted under their combined scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

“I told you so,” Mara said with a smug grin.

Sheree looked at Derek. “Told you what? What’s going on?”

Derek gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Nothing to worry about. Mara brought you here because I told her that being with you calms me. . . .” He hesitated before adding, “And because your blood satisfies my hunger like nothing else.”

“Why would my blood be different from anyone else’s?” Sheree asked anxiously. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“Your blood is fine,” Mara assured her. “Some believe that certain bloodlines or types have that effect on certain vampires. It’s very rare that the vampire and the mortal find each other.”

“And you wanted me here because you think my blood will somehow help Derek during the full moon?”

Mara nodded. “Exactly. Now that we’ve settled that, I’m hungry. Are you coming, Logan?”

“Of course.”

“Excuse me,” Sheree said, “but can I ask you something?”

“Only if you think you can handle the answer,” Mara replied somewhat acerbically.

“Do you . . . I’m not sure what you call it . . . need blood every day?”

“We call it hunting or feeding,” Mara replied. “And no, I don’t need to feed every day. But I enjoy the hunt. And to answer your next question, I rarely kill my prey these days.”

“The same goes for me,” Logan said. “Enjoy yourselves, you two. We’ll be gone for quite a while.”

Clasping hands, the two vampires vanished from sight.

“I hope I didn’t make her angry,” Sheree said.

“No. It’s natural for you to be curious about us.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Do you have to . . . to feed . . . every day?”

“No, but I’m a predator, and like most vampires, I also enjoy the hunt.”

Sheree shivered as she imagined him stalking helpless humans, throwing them on the ground, burying his fangs in their throats.

Derek snorted softly. “I use a little more finesse than that, love.”

“If people knew how wonderful it felt, you wouldn’t have to hunt them down. They’d come to you.”

His easy laughter filled the air as he pulled her into a bear hug. “Sheree, my love, how did I ever live without you?”

 

 

As promised, Derek took Sheree out to dinner that night. Deciding to try the house specialty, she ordered Csirke-paprikás, a chicken stew flavored with paprika, cumin, and chilis. The waitress suggested Sheree add a side of buttered potatoes, which she did. Sheree hadn’t expected Derek to order anything, but he asked for a steak, seared on the outside, and a bottle of wine.

“It’s almost the full moon,” he said, noting her curious gaze. “The week before it’s full, I crave meat.” He took a deep breath. “Raw meat.”

“Oh. Well, that’s . . . interesting.”

“No, it’s not.”

Reaching across the table, Sheree took his hand in hers. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

“I wish I could be sure.”

“What are you really afraid is going to happen?”

His hand tightened on hers. “I’m afraid that I’ll become a killing machine with no conscience.”

Sheree shook her head. “I don’t believe that’s possible. You’re a good man, Derek. I know it in every fiber of my being. I wouldn’t be here with you if you weren’t.”

When the waitress arrived with their dinner, Sheree tried not to stare at Derek’s plate. The steak, barely cooked, swam in a sea of blood-red juice.

“I shouldn’t have ordered anything,” he said, noting the thinly veiled revulsion in her eyes.

“No. Lots of people like their steak rare. I’m told it tastes better that way.”

Derek shook his head as he cut the steak into pieces and took a bite. It was remarkably satisfying.

Later, they strolled through the town. It was like stepping back in time, Sheree thought, walking along the cobblestone streets.

“This is where legend says vampires were born,” she mused, thinking about Bram Stoker’s
Dracula
, and how strange it was to be walking in Transylvania with a real vampire at her side.

Derek shook his head. “No one really knows where the first one came from, or how we came to be. Some believe that it was a curse set upon a man who lusted after another man’s wife. Others believe that we’re demon spawn, and that vampires cast no reflection in a mirror because we have no soul. There’s a small group that believes we are a separate species, and that we evolved along with mankind.”

“I’ve never heard any of those theories before, but I definitely like the last one the best. It’s an intriguing idea.” She glanced around, admiring the quaint shops, the distant mountains, some capped with snow. “It’s a beautiful country.”

“So they say. You should ask Mara to take you sightseeing before we leave.” He slid a glance in her direction. “You should at least visit Castle Dracula while you’re here.”

“I’d love to. I read a lot about it online.”

He lifted one brow. “Researching the undead?”

“Of course. It was a passion of mine.”

“Was?”

She punched him on the arm. “You know what I mean.”

“How do I know you’re not just using me for research?” he asked, eyes glinting with humor.

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Would you mind if I was?”

“You can research me all you want,” he said, laughing. “I admit I did quite a bit of it myself growing up.”

“You did? Why? I mean, didn’t you already know everything there was to know about vampires?”

“More or less, but being one myself, I was naturally curious about what people thought of us. I read everything I could get my hands on about Romania and vampires and Vlad Dracula. To this day, his people regard him as a hero.”

“Some hero! I read that he killed over forty thousand people.”

“From what I read, it was more like eighty thousand,” Derek said. “And that’s not counting the number of villages he burned to the ground.”

When they reached a narrow alley between two buildings, Derek pulled her into it, then took her in his arms and kissed her hungrily. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he said, his voice husky. And then he kissed her again.

She would have protested but with his arms wrapped around her and his mouth ravaging hers, it was impossible to think of anything but the desire that flamed between them. He backed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers, letting her feel the growing evidence of his desire.

She moaned softly, her hands delving under his shirt, moving restlessly up and down his back and shoulders. His skin was cool beneath her fingertips, the muscles well-defined.

“Derek . . .” She breathed his name, pouring all her yearning into it.

“I know.” He could smell the musk on her skin, hear the uptick in the beat of her heart, the scent of her blood as it flowed hot and sweet beneath her skin.

A rush of desire swamped his senses as his arms tightened around her. With a low growl, he lowered his head to her neck.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

A flash of light penetrated the darkness. Derek wheeled around, his eyes blazing red, his lips pulled back to reveal his fangs.

A cop stared back at him. “What the hell?”

Sheree hollered, “Derek, don’t!” as he sprang forward, his hands closing around the police officer’s neck. “Derek!”

He froze, his whole being focused on the mortal quivering in his grasp. Every instinct urged him to attack. The man was a threat and needed to be eliminated.

“Derek?”

He stiffened at the gentle touch of her hand on his back. “Get away from me!”

“Derek, you don’t want to do this,” she said quietly. “He hasn’t done anything. Please, turn him loose so we can go home.”

He growled again.

“If you hurt him, you know you’ll regret it later. This isn’t who you are.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, then trapped the officer’s gaze with his own. “You will not remember this,” he said, his voice low, hypnotic. “You will not remember me.”

“I will not remember,” the officer said.

After sending the man on his way, Derek wrapped Sheree in his arms and willed the two of them back to the castle.

They materialized in the great hall.

After releasing Sheree, Derek went to stand in front of the hearth, his hands braced on the mantel.

Now that the danger was past, Sheree felt suddenly weak. Trembling as with a chill, she made her way to the sofa. Sitting, she scrubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“I wanted to kill him,” Derek said, his voice thick with self-reproach.

“But you didn’t.”

He turned to look at her. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have ripped out his heart and eaten it.”

It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep her horror at his words from showing in her eyes.

But he knew what she was thinking.

He always knew.

“Transylvania!” Pearl exclaimed. “As in Romania? Home of vampire hunters and werewolves?”

“For goodness’ sake, lower your voice.” Edna glanced around the crowded nightclub, nostrils flaring as she searched the room for vampires.

Pearl shook her head. “Why on earth do you want to go haring off to Romania all of a sudden?”

“Because that’s where Derek is.”

“Why would he be there, dear?”

“I can’t read his mind,” Edna said. “But the reason is obvious. He’s gone to wait for the full moon. So we need to go, too. After all, we can’t very well watch him shift from here.”

Pearl frowned thoughtfully. It made perfect sense, of course, in a twisted, vampire-obsessed sort of way. “I suppose Mara is with him.”

“I should think so. Did you ever write that formula down?”

“No. It’s still in my head. Why?”

“An idea about the formula’s been percolating in my mind the last few days.”

“I don’t know why, dear. The stuff didn’t work.”

“I know, but with a bit of recalculating, and the addition of a few new ingredients, I think it might be effective.”

Pearl regarded her friend curiously for a moment, then exclaimed, “You don’t think Mara’s going to come to us for help, do you?”

“Why not? She’s got nowhere else to turn,” Edna said confidently. “What do you think the weather is like in Transylvania this time of year?”

“How the heck should I know? I’ve never been there.”

“We really are living dangerously these days, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are, dear.” Grinning, Pearl lifted her glass. “And it’s about damn time!”

Sheree was surprised to wake the next evening and find Derek sleeping beside her. After bringing her home the night before, he had left her in the great hall. She had no idea where he had gone, or why, though she suspected he had just needed some time alone.

Mara had come home shortly after Derek left. “What happened?” she asked, her nostrils flaring. “Where’s Derek?”

“I don’t know.” As briefly as possible, Sheree had told his mother what had happened in the alley.

“That man owes you his life,” Mara remarked. Her gaze moved swiftly over Sheree. “You’re unhurt?”

“Of course.”

Mara snorted softly. “Derek loves you. I have no doubt of that. But you should be prepared to protect yourself at all times. He is still a predator, and in his current condition, there’s no telling what he might do. I know you brought a wooden stake with you. You should keep it handy.”

Now, lying in bed beside Derek, Mara’s warning came back to her. And yet, looking at Derek while he slept, she found it hard to imagine that he would ever harm her, or anyone else. In sleep, his face was relaxed, all the worry lines gone.

Did Mara know Derek was in her bed? Silly question. Of course she did. Sheree felt a flush warm her cheeks. It was one thing to share a bed with him in her own house; quite another under his mother’s roof.

When had he come to her? And why? Sheree recalled his remark about her nearness soothing him, though she didn’t understand how her mere presence could suppress either his hunger or his anxiety.

Sheree turned onto her side, studying him as she had the day before. His breathing was slow and shallow. It was a marvel that such an amazing and complex creature loved her. Almost, she could wish to be a vampire just so she could think herself to another country, or dissolve into sparkling mist, or run faster than the human eye could follow.

“I can arrange it, if you like.”

“No, thank you.”

He opened his eyes, his expression somber. “I should be thanking you.”

“Why?”

“You know why. I would have killed that man if you hadn’t been there.”

“If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have been in that alley in the first place, and the man’s life would never have been in any danger.”

“I’m still in your debt. How can I repay you?”

“A kiss will suffice.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently, then said, with a teasing grin, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to bring you across?”

She swatted him on the arm, then sat up, intrigued and repulsed by the idea at the same time. “Have you ever made another vampire?”

He winked at her. “Not yet.”

“Do you know how?”

“In theory.”

“Is it done the way they do it in the movies?”

“Pretty much. I’d drain you to the point of death, then give you my blood. When you woke the next night, you’d be one of us.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I don’t know. No one ever turned me.”

“You said you’d have to drain me to the point of death. What if you took too much?”

“You would die. None of us, not even Mara, can raise the dead.”

It was a sobering thought and quickly obliterated Sheree’s curiosity.

Derek traced her lower lip with his forefinger. “You would make a beautiful vampire.”

“What do you mean?”

“All vampires have a sort of glamour that enhances their natural appearance. Haven’t you noticed?”

Sheree started to say no, but then she thought about Mara and Logan. There was something indefinable about them, an allure she had been unable to put a name to.

Troubled by his words, she looked at Derek. Had she been drawn to him because of some vampiric magnetism she couldn’t resist?

“Perhaps, in the beginning,” he admitted with a wry grin. “But the attraction between us is very real. Otherwise your blood wouldn’t have such a powerful effect on me.”

He tugged her down beside him, his arm slipping around her waist to draw her body closer to his. Sheree snuggled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, one hand resting on his chest. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the touch of his lips moving in her hair.

“Sheree, I can’t believe you’re here. Or that you’ve accepted all this . . .” He made a broad gesture with his hand meant to encompass the castle and everything in it. “I can’t help thinking that you were meant to be mine.” He kissed her cheek. “That you will always be mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She raised herself on one elbow so she could see his face. “Don’t you know I’ll be yours for as long as you want me?”

“Then you’ll be mine forever.”

Sheree smiled. It was a wonderful sentiment, but she doubted he’d feel the same when she was old and gray and he was still young and vibrant.

“I will want you until the day death takes you from me.”

“I’d like to believe that,” Sheree said. “I really would. But, honestly, Derek, can you really see yourself making love to some wrinkled old woman?”

“No.” He caressed her cheek. “But I can see myself taking care of you until you draw your last breath.”

It wasn’t fair, she thought bitterly. Why did she have to fall in love with a vampire? Maybe he meant what he said, maybe he would still love her when she was in her eighties, if she lived that long. But how would she feel about him? Would she love him until her dying breath? Or hate him because he didn’t grow old, because she was going to die while he would go on loving and living without her?

“Damn, girl,” Derek muttered. “Talk about looking on the dark side of things!”

“If you’d stay out of my mind, you wouldn’t know what I was thinking!”

“You’re young, love. You’ve got lots of time to change your mind before you turn into that wrinkled old crone.”

“Oh!” Grabbing her pillow, she hit him over the head with it. His laughter only made her angrier and she hit him again and again, her anger gradually turning to laughter until he rolled her onto her back and rose over her. He wasn’t laughing now, and neither was she. His dark gray eyes were smoky with desire as he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his.

Wrapping her arms around his back, she pulled him down until his body covered hers. With a shock, she realized he was naked save for a pair of black briefs that did nothing to disguise his gender or his burgeoning desire.

“Sheree . . .” His eyes flashed red and he groaned, the sound torn from the very depths of his being. “Tell me to stop before it’s too late.”

“Drink, my love,” she urged. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

He went still, his fingers tangled in her hair. She could feel the struggle within him as he fought to control his hunger and his desire. As much as he needed her blood, as satisfying as it might be, she knew that he regretted the necessity—that he was afraid she would think he saw her only as prey.

He whispered words of love in her ear but they weren’t needed. Lost in a blissful haze, she had no thought to deny him, didn’t care what he took as long as he didn’t leave her. After a moment, she felt the warmth of his tongue against her skin, followed by the touch of his fangs at her throat. She arched against him as pleasure flowed from his bite to the very center of her being.

She clutched his shoulders, heard his voice whisper, “Forgive me,” and then all thought was swept away in a tidal wave of such sensual pleasure she thought she might die of it.

For a terrifying moment, the world went crimson. And then black.

“Sheree! Sheree! Dammit!”

Derek’s voice, laced with terror, called her from the abyss. With an effort, she swam back through layers of blackness to find him hovering over her, his brow furrowed, eyes shadowed with worry.

He hissed a sigh of relief when she opened her eyes. “I thought . . .” He pulled her into his embrace, his face buried in her hair.

A moment later, Mara and Logan burst into the room.

“Derek, what have you done?” Mara demanded.

With a low growl, Derek grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Sheree. “You know damn well what I did.” He stroked Sheree’s face. She was pale, so pale.

“Yes, I know. A little more and she would be dead now.”

Logan grabbed Mara’s hand and tugged her toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly. “We’re not needed here.”

Muttering, “She might not be so lucky next time,” Mara followed Logan into the hallway and closed the door.

“Why is your mother so upset?” Sheree asked.

Derek smoothed her hair away from her face. She was almost as white as the pillowcase. “I nearly took too much.”

Sheree blinked at him. Was that why she felt so light-headed? “I feel so strange, as if I could close my eyes and fly away.”

“You need nourishment. Come on.” Taking her by the hand, he helped her stand, then swept her into his arms and quickly carried her down the stairs.

In the kitchen, he set her on a chair, then reached into one of the ice chests and withdrew a chilled bottle of orange juice. After filling a glass, he handed it to her. “Drink,” he commanded. “All of it.”

When she drained it in only a few swallows, he filled it again. And then again.

“No more.” Shaking her head, Sheree put the glass on the table.

Derek’s gaze moved over her face, noting her color had returned. Another few minutes, he thought bleakly, and he would have killed her.

“I’m fine,” she said, seeing the worry in his eyes.

“Are you? I could have drained you dry!”

“I trust you,” she murmured, cupping his cheek in her palm.

“I only hope that trust doesn’t get you killed.”

 

 

Derek carried Sheree back to bed, stayed with her until she fell asleep, then went into the living room. Logan was stretched out on one of the sofas, ankles crossed, arms folded behind his head.

Mara paced the floor in front of the fireplace, her quickened steps the first clue that something was bothering her.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, sitting on the other sofa.

“Edna and Pearl,” Logan answered.

Derek arched one brow. “What about them?”

“They’re here!” Mara said. “Why the devil are they following us?”

Logan snorted. “Why do you think? The full moon is only two nights away. I’m guessing they don’t want to miss the show.”

Derek glared at his stepfather. “It’s not a show, dammit! It’s my life, and it’s hell not knowing what to expect! Do you have any idea what it’s like waiting for whatever the hell is going to happen?” He sprang to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “I can feel it building inside me, waiting to explode.”

“Derek,” Logan said, “I didn’t mean—”

“What if it turns me into a beast I can’t control? Dammit, it’s hard enough to control what I am now!”

Mara laid her hand on his arm but he shook it off.

Moving to the fireplace, Derek braced his hands on the mantel, staring down at the ashes in the hearth.

“I’m afraid,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “Afraid of what I might do to her in a moment of weakness.” He picked up the fireplace poker, his hands tightening around it until his knuckles were white with the strain. “Afraid I’ll lose control.”

“Derek, listen to me—”

“No!” He rounded on his mother. “You never should have brought her here!” The poker bent in his hands. “If I hurt her . . .”

“Derek,” Mara said quietly, “I think she’s the answer. You care for her. You’ve protected her. . . .”

“Sure, when I’m myself.” He shoved the poker into his mother’s hands. “I want you to lock me up tomorrow before dark.”

“You need to drink from her the night before the full moon.”

He wanted to refuse but his mother was right. Sheree’s blood satisfied him like nothing else. Perhaps if he drank from her before he turned into a werewolf, her blood would suppress the urge to kill.

Moving to the window, he stared out at the darkness. He breathed in and his nostrils filled with the scent of rain. A storm was coming. In the distance, a deer rested in a thicket, while an owl hunted the night for prey.

Prey.
It was all around him. Outside, the deer stirred. Before he realized what he was doing, Derek was at the deer’s side, his fangs buried deep in the animal’s throat. The blood was thick and rich and hot and he drank it all, drank until he was sated with the taste and the smell.

When sanity returned, he rocked back on his heels, horrified by what he had done. He glanced at the moon, barely visible behind the gathering clouds. But he didn’t have to see it to know it was there. He could feel its pull on his preternatural senses, feel it calling to the beast lurking inside him.

If he was capable of this when the moon was not yet full, what would he do when its pull was at its strongest, and he at his most vulnerable?

Would animal blood be enough to satisfy him then?