Night's Promise

  Shaking the horrific images from her mind, she went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.

  She wasn’t in the mood for breakfast, so she drank a glass of orange juice and washed it down with a cup of coffee.

  Needing to be busy, she spent the next three hours cleaning the house from top to bottom. She did two loads of laundry and while waiting for the clothes to dry, she threw everything out of the refrigerator and washed it inside and out.

  When that was done, she went upstairs to shower, then changed into a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, put on a pair of sneakers, and went for a long walk. She smiled at the people she passed, thinking how good it was to be alive on such a beautiful evening. It would have been perfect, she thought, if only Derek was there beside her.

  It was after seven when she returned home. Grabbing her handbag, she drove to the store.

  She was trying to decide between chocolate fudge brownie ice cream or mint and chip when she felt a sudden warmth along the side of her neck, as if someone had kissed her.

  She smiled with the realization that someone had. Murmuring his name, she glanced over her shoulder to find Derek standing behind her.

  “Too bad you don’t eat,” she said, containing the urge to throw her arms around him. “You could help me decide which kind to buy.”

  “I’d rather kiss you again.”

  Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes in silent invitation, sighed when his lips claimed hers.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat made Sheree take a step back. Opening her eyes, she saw a middle-aged woman glaring at them over a tub of vanilla ice cream, while the two young girls at her side giggled.

  With a shake of her head, the woman pushed her cart past them, muttering, “Get a room, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Good idea.” Derek gestured at the contents in Sheree’s basket. “Do you really need all that stuff?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He fell into step beside her as she made her way to the checkout line, then loaded her groceries into the trunk of her car. He held her door for her before sliding into the passenger seat.

  When he was settled, Sheree started the car and drove home, acutely aware of the man sitting beside her. Just looking at him made her smile. His very presence filled her with a sense of warmth and light, which was odd, since vampires were creatures of darkness.

  “It must be love,” she mused with a glance in his direction.

  He looked at her, one brow raised.

  “You know very well what I’m talking about, so don’t give me that innocent look.”

  He didn’t deny it, only laughed softly. “You’ve got it backward, love. You’re the light to my darkness.”

  It was, she thought, the nicest compliment she had ever received.

  At home, he carried the groceries inside, then stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her stow them away.

  “Do you ever miss eating?” Sheree asked as she put a loaf of bread in the cupboard.

  “Sometimes.”

  “What do you miss the most?”

  “Cheeseburgers. And French fries. And apple pie.”

  “Some of my favorites, too,” Sheree said, smiling. “What happens when you eat?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “You can eat steak,” she mused. “Have you tried eating any other kind of meat?”

  “No. Well, just hamburger, but that’s really the same thing.”

  “And the blood?” She put the last of the groceries away. “Isn’t it . . . ?”

  “Gross? Disgusting? Revolting? No, it isn’t.”

  Turning to face him, she leaned against the counter, her head tilted to the side. “Does it taste the same to you as it does to me when I lick the blood from a cut?”

  “Not even close. You know what Dracula said, that the blood is the life? When I drink from someone, I absorb their memories, their thoughts. Their life. As for the taste, it’s indescribable. And irresistible.”

  “I can’t even imagine that.”

  “This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a woman,” Derek remarked.

  “Surely some of your other lady friends have been curious.”

  “I never trusted any of them, few as there have been, to know what I was.” Heat flared in the depths of his eyes. “Come here.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “No, love. Merely a request.”

  Sheree moved readily into his arms, lifted her face for his kiss, sighed when his mouth found hers. It must be love, she mused again. Because everything she learned about him—no matter how bizarre—only made her want him more. Want to help him more.

  “Help me? That you have.”

  “And I don’t intend to stop.” Pulling his head down, she kissed him, hoping he was reading her mind so he would know how much she loved him, not only because he was as sexy as sin, but because he treated her like an equal. And because he trusted her with the truth.

  “With my life,” he said, raining feather-light kisses over her cheeks, her brow, the tip of her nose. His hands cupped her hips, drawing her closer, as his tongue slid along the side of her neck. “Let me?”

  “Always.” Her eyelids fluttered down as his fangs scraped lightly over her skin. His earlier words whispered through her mind. When I drink from someone, I absorb their memories, their thoughts. Their life. It was disconcerting knowing he was privy to her every thought, her every wish, past and present. Are you reading my mind now? If you are, kiss me.

  She had barely formed the thought when his mouth covered hers, hot and hungry. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her into the living room. Flames leaped in the hearth. Never taking his lips from hers, he lowered her to the floor, then gathered her into his arms, his back to the fire. His hands played over her body, sending shivers of sensual delight through every nerve and fiber of her being.

  At last, she thought. At last . . .

  When her cell phone rang, she let the call go to voice mail. But then it rang again. Dimly, she realized the ring was her mother’s.

  After the third call, Derek drew back. “I think you’d better answer that.”

  Dazed by his kisses, she fumbled inside her pocket for her phone. “Mom?”

  “Sheree, it’s your dad. He . . .”

  “What?” She sat up, the first shivery chill of fear chasing everything else from her mind. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s his heart. He’s in Presbyterian, in ICU.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can book a flight.”

  “No need for that,” Derek said after she disconnected the call. “I can have you there in no time at all.”

  She stared at him a moment, then smiled faintly. “Vampire Airlines?”

  “Best in the world. Is there anything you need to take with you?”

  “Just my purse and my phone.”

  Rising, he helped her to her feet. A look extinguished the fire and turned off the lights. “Ready?”

  When she nodded, he wrapped her in his arms.

  Clutching her handbag to her chest, she closed her eyes.

  When she opened them again, they were in the lobby of Presbyterian Hospital.

  “You go on up,” Derek said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’ll wait for you down here.”

  “No. Come with me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Too much blood.”

  “Oh, of course. You won’t leave?”

  “No. I’ll be here.”

  With a nod, she hurried toward the elevators.

  Sheree had always hated hospitals. She didn’t like the smell, or the insipid color of the walls, or the ugly floors. But, most of all, she didn’t trust doctors.

  She found her mother at her father’s bedside, his hand clasped in hers. “Mom, what happened?”

  Meredith looked up, her eyes red and swollen. “We were at dinner . . . at the Nortons’. . . . He just . . .” She blinked rapidly. “. . . just collapsed.” r />
  “What does the doctor say?”

  Meredith swallowed hard. “It’s not good. He said . . . that I should . . . prepare myself.”

  Sheree bit down on her lower lip in an effort to keep from crying. Her mother needed her to be strong. She could fall apart later. But looking at her father, at how pale he was, at all the tubes and monitors, it was impossible to hold back her tears.

  Nurses came and went. At midnight, Sheree went downstairs on the pretense of getting some coffee.

  She found Derek in the lobby, sitting in a chair near the door. He rose as soon as he saw her and she ran into his arms. There was no need to say anything.

  “I’m sorry, love,” he said, lightly stroking her hair.

  She looked up at him through tear-swollen eyes. “Is there anything you can do?”

  “Do you want me to make him a vampire?”

  “Of course not, but . . . can’t you work some kind of vampire voodoo and save him?”

  “I don’t know.” He had heard stories of humans who had been cured of any number of different maladies by an infusion of vampire blood, but he had no idea if such stories were true, or merely wishful thinking.

  He looked down into Sheree’s eyes. How could he destroy the hope shining there?

  “Go get that coffee,” he said. “I need to talk to Mara.”

  Leaving the hospital, he found a quiet place and opened the link between himself and his mother. He had no idea if he could send her his thoughts from such a great distance. If it didn’t work, he’d go home and ask her.

  What is it, Derek? Where are you?

  Philadelphia. Sheree’s dad had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. Doesn’t look good. Is there anything I can do?

  A little of your blood might save him.

  So, the stories are true?

  Some of them. I don’t know if your blood will cure him, but it might strengthen him long enough for the doctors to save him.

  Thanks, Ma.

  In his mind, he saw her bristle at his use of the word Ma, which she thought was demeaning, but which he used with affection.

  Let me know what happens. And be careful.

  When he returned, Sheree was waiting for him in the lobby, a cup of coffee in each hand. “What did she say?”

  “She said giving him a little of my blood might help. It’s up to you.”

  “It’s worth a try! Hurry!”

  “Wait. You need to get your mother out of the room.”

  “All right. How long will it take?”

  Following her into the elevator, he said, “No more than a few minutes.” When they exited the elevator at the intensive care ward, he said, “I’ll wait here. When you get her out, I’ll go in.”

  “Okay.”

  A short time later, Sheree and her mother left the room.

  As soon as they were out of sight, he dissolved into mist, then resumed his shape at her father’s bedside. Derek forced the man’s mouth open, bit into his own wrist, and let a dozen or so drops of his blood drip down the man’s throat.

  At a sound from the hallway, Derek dissolved into mist once more and left the ICU. In the corridor, the scent of blood and pain and death was overpowering. A thought took him outside, where he took several deep breaths.

  Sheree found him there an hour later. The smile on her face said it all. “You did it! The doctor is calling it a miracle.” She threw her arms around him, tears of joy trailing down her cheeks. “Thank you!”

  Derek held her close. For the first time in his life, he felt truly grateful to be a vampire.

  It was after three A.M. when Sheree persuaded her mother to leave the hospital. “You need to get some sleep,” she said as they took the elevator to the lobby. “You don’t want Dad to see those dark shadows under your eyes.”

  “We could have lost him,” Meredith said, her voice thick.

  “You heard the doctor. Dad’s going to be fine.”

  Meredith nodded.

  Sheree looked at her mother, a little surprised to realize that her mother’s distress had been sincere. Maybe she had been wrong about her parents. Maybe, in their own way, they really did love each other.

  “How did you get here so soon?” Meredith pulled a lace hanky from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

  The question caught Sheree off guard. She couldn’t tell her mother the truth, of course. Mind scrambling, Sheree opted for a part of the truth. “I had decided to come home for a visit. A friend of mine has a private plane and offered to save me the price of a ticket. We were on our way to see you when I got your call. Look, there he is now,” she said, before her mother could ask any more questions she couldn’t answer.

  “Thank you for bringing my daughter home,” Meredith said after Sheree introduced Derek.

  “I was happy to do it, Mrs. Westerbrooke.” He gestured at the cab waiting at the curb. “I took the liberty of calling for a taxi.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you. You’ll stay with us, of course,” Meredith insisted as Derek opened the car door.

  “Thank you, but it isn’t necessary.” He winked at Sheree as she climbed into the backseat. “I have a place of my own.” He was grateful when she didn’t argue.

  They arrived at the Westerbrooke home a short time later. Sheree’s mother bid them good night and immediately retired to her room, leaving Sheree to look after Derek.

  “Thank you again,” Sheree said. “If it wasn’t for you . . .”

  He drew her into his embrace as tears of gratitude flooded her eyes. He held her until her tears subsided, then wiped the last of them away with the pads of his thumbs.

  “You’d better get some sleep, love. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Do you really have a place here, in the city?”

  “No.”

  “Then where are you going to spend the day?”

  “At Mara’s place.”

  “You heard my mother. You’re welcome to stay with us.”

  “It isn’t safe, love. Your mother is here and there are servants in the house. It’s best if I leave. Don’t worry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You promise?”

  “I’ll be here as soon as the sun goes down.” Derek shook his head as her thoughts invaded his. Sometimes, as now, being able to read minds was as much a curse as a blessing. “Come on, love, I’ll get you tucked in.”

  “And stay until I fall asleep?”

  Nodding, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the long, winding staircase to her room, tucked her into bed after she changed into her nightgown.

  “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

  “Thank you again,” she murmured, and tumbled into sleep’s waiting arms.

  Derek brushed a lock of hair from her brow, then left the house. He had just enough time to hunt and make it back to California before the sun came up.

  Early the next morning, Sheree and her mother were back at the hospital. Sheree was relieved to see that some of the color had returned to her father’s cheeks and that he was resting comfortably.

  Sitting beside her mother on one of the hospital’s hard plastic chairs, Sheree offered a silent prayer of gratitude that she had met Derek. Without him, she was certain her father would have passed away during the night.

  For a time, neither of them spoke, both focused on watching her father’s every breath, tracking the lines on the monitors.

  After a while, Meredith took a deep breath and turned toward her daughter. “Tell me about the young man who brought you home. Who are his people? Where is he from? What does he do for a living?”

  Sheree shifted in her chair as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Derek’s from California. His parents have a lovely home in the Hollywood Hills. Old money,” she said. Then, hoping to impress her mother, she added, “They also own a castle in Romania.”

  “Royalty?” Meredith queried, her eyes suddenly alight with interest.

  Sheree nodded, remembering that Derek had called his mother the Queen of the Vampir
es.

  “Neil was upset when you left without saying good-bye.”

  “Oh, Mom, stop matchmaking. I wouldn’t marry Neil Somerset for a million dollars in gold. Or Ralph Upton, either. I’m in love with Derek, and nothing you can say is going to change that.”

  The argument Sheree saw coming died on her mother’s lips when Dr. Carlson entered the room. He nodded at Sheree and her mother, then checked his patient’s vital signs.

  “How is he?” Meredith asked anxiously.

  “Much better.” He smiled at the two of them. “Someone must have prayed up a miracle.”

  Sheree grinned inwardly. A miracle, indeed, she mused, and his name was Derek.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  During the next two weeks, Sheree’s father made a remarkable recovery. She spent her days and early evenings at the hospital, but her nights were spent with Derek. He had never been to Philadelphia, so she took him sight-seeing. Of course, going with a vampire meant they went touring when most of the places were closed. Being whisked into museums when they were no longer open added a bit of excitement to viewing the Rodin and the Woodmere, or touring Independence Hall and the quaint home of Betsy Ross.

  Sheree supposed it was inevitable that her mother would continue to delve into Derek’s family, since Meredith was enthusiastic about genealogy and had spent considerable time and money tracing the Westerbrooke line.

  Derek sidestepped her questions as best he could, claiming, truthfully, that he had no idea who his grandparents were, or where his mother and father had been born.

  “Maybe I should just tell her the truth,” Derek suggested one night as he and Sheree left the hospital.

  “Oh, there’s a good idea,” Sheree retorted.

  “Well, it would certainly keep her busy, trying to trace Mara’s ancestry back to the time of the pharaohs.”