“But Derek wasn’t made.”
“No. He carries his father’s goodness, and his mother’s evil.”
Sheree blinked at Mara. “Evil?”
“I’ve done terrible things in my time.” Mara stared into the distance. “I killed people who didn’t deserve it and took pleasure in it. I forced the Dark Gift on those who didn’t want it and went blissfully on my way. Some, like Logan, survived. Others destroyed themselves.”
“You made Logan a vampire?”
Mara nodded. “He should have hated me for it.”
“But he doesn’t.”
“No. But others did. And they’re not all dead.”
“Did you want to be a vampire?”
“No. I was turned against my will.” She slid a glance at Sheree. “I know what you’re thinking. If I was turned against my will, why did I do it to others? I have no answer except that I was angry. My sire turned me and abandoned me, and I often did the same. I have no excuse for my callous behavior except that, mortal or vampire, I was selfish and thoughtless.”
“Did you turn Pearl and Edna?”
“No. I would have killed them. Back then, they were trying to find a serum to cure the vampires and the werewolves and the shape-shifters. . . .”
“Shape-shifters?”
“Yes. People who are two-natured—animal and human. Not like werewolves, who are compelled to change. Anyway, Rafe and his wife were caught up in Pearl and Edna’s experiments. I was all for killing the old bats, but Rafe was too softhearted. He turned them instead. And now, if Pearl’s serum works, I will be forever in her debt. And Edna’s, too.”
“Who’s Rafe? I think Derek mentioned him once.”
“I turned Rafe’s father, Vince Cordova, on a whim. Such a handsome young man. He married a mortal girl, Cara, and fathered twins, Rane and Rafe. To my knowledge, his twins and Derek are the only vampires ever born to our kind.”
“Does Vince hate you?”
“No. We’re family now. Rane and Rafe are both married. Rane has a daughter, Abbey. She’s in New York, studying to be an actress. Perhaps you’ll meet her one day.”
Nodding, Sheree squeezed Mara’s hand. “Thank you for taking my mind off our troubles for a little while.”
“I’m glad I could help. You’ve been good for Derek. If there’s ever anything you want, anything you need, you have only to ask.”
“I just want him to be happy.”
“No more than I,” Mara murmured. “No more than I.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Derek stood out of sight in the hallway, hands tightly clenched at his sides as he eavesdropped on the conversation between his mother and his wife. He hated being the cause of their concern, but dammit, it wasn’t his fault that his mother was a vampire or that she had married a werewolf! He didn’t know why the hell he felt guilty, but he did.
Guilty and hungry as hell.
A thought took him outside. The air was cool and crisp, the sky awash with stars. Standing there, he opened his senses, inhaling the fragrance of damp earth and trees. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he strolled around the perimeter of the castle before heading down the mountain.
He hadn’t gone far when he sensed other predators nearby. Pausing, he searched the darkness. Three gray wolves stared back at him, their eyes glowing yellow in the moon’s light.
Hackles raised, the bigger of the three growled a warning.
Baring his fangs, Derek took a step forward, an answering growl rising in his own throat.
For a moment, he thought they would challenge him and he relished the idea of a fight, hoping it would release some of the tension building in him.
The big male growled again, then, as one, the three wolves turned tail and disappeared into the darkness.
Was it the vampire they feared, he wondered as he continued down the mountainside, or did they sense the werewolf trapped inside, struggling to get out?
He found his prey in a smoke-filled bar on a quiet street. Only the thought of Sheree kept him from tearing into the woman’s jugular and draining her dry.
Filled but not satisfied, he sent the woman away and returned home.
The castle was dark. Mara and Logan were in bed, but not asleep.
Edna and Pearl weren’t in the castle. Out hunting, perhaps?
Sheree was sleeping, but not in their room.
Frowning, Derek followed her scent up the stairs. He uttered a vile oath when he found her sleeping on a pile of blankets on the floor in one of the unfurnished bedrooms.
He picked her up, blankets and all, and carried her to his bedroom. Still half asleep, she murmured his name as she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled against him.
Something melted inside him when she whispered, “Don’t go,” as he lowered her onto the mattress.
After tucking her under the covers, he tossed the other blankets aside.
“Derek?”
“I’m here.”
“Stay with me.”
He dragged his hand across his jaw; then, before he could talk himself out of it, he undressed and slid in beside her.
She scooted closer, one arm stretching over his belly, her head resting on his shoulder. She smelled of soap and shampoo. And woman. His woman.
Whispering, “I’m sorry,” into the wealth of her hair, he wrapped her in his arms. “Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” She smiled at him in the darkness. “How could I be angry with you for being afraid you’ll hurt me?” She stroked his cheek. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Why were you sleeping on the floor in the other room?”
“This is where you take your rest. You didn’t seem to want to be with me. . . .”
“Sheree, love, I can rest anywhere. And I always want you with me, even when I should know better.”
“Are you thirsty?”
“I fed.”
“Was it enough?”
He closed his eyes, trying to resist the urge to drink from her. His need made him feel weak, helpless. Hardly the way a man wanted to appear in the eyes of the woman he loved. He was a vampire, top of the food chain, almost indestructible, yet he was humbled by her love for him, and his need for her.
“It wasn’t enough, was it? You’re still thirsty.”
“Are you reading my mind now?” he muttered darkly.
“I don’t know, but I can feel your hunger.”
With a low groan, he took what she offered. The warmth of her life’s blood flowed through him, the sweetness of it soothing the raging beast inside.
Derek woke the next afternoon to find Sheree asleep, pressed close to his side. Frowning, he glanced at the window, surprised to find that he was awake and the sun was shining. He had always been able to be active when the sun was up, if necessary, but he rarely woke before the setting of the sun.
Lightly stroking Sheree’s hair, he wondered if it was yet another symptom of the changes taking place inside him.
Sheree stirred, yawned, and then rolled over, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw he was awake. “Is something wrong?”
“Not that I know of.”
“But . . .”
“How do you feel about making love in the daytime, wife?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”
He trailed his fingertips down her arm. “Would you like to give it a try?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Oh, just kiss me, you idiot!”
Muttering, “Don’t ask me twice,” he turned onto his side and pulled her body against his.
Before she knew it, her nightgown was on the floor.
“What fast hands you have, Mr. Blackwood.”
“The fastest.”
Tossing the covers aside, Sheree straddled his hips. She had never seen him fully naked in broad daylight. His skin was cool and smooth beneath her curious fingers, his muscles were well-defined, his chest lightly furred with soft, curly black hai
r.
He watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, content to let her explore to her heart’s content.
He opened his senses and invited her inside, letting her feel what he felt, hear what he was thinking as she aroused him. And then, in the blink of an eye, he turned the tables on her. She welcomed the weight of his body on hers, lifted her hips to receive him, all the while knowing his thoughts, his desires. It was an amazing experience, feeling his passion mingle with her own, the way he held back his own release until, crying his name, she shuddered with pleasure.
He rolled onto his side, his body still a part of hers as her body cooled and their breathing returned to normal.
He whispered that he loved her, and in his mind, she read his regret that the words were inadequate to express how much she meant to him, how desperately he needed her.
“I don’t need the words,” she murmured, kissing his cheek. “But it’s nice to know.”
Later, while Derek slept, Sheree bathed and dressed, then went in search of Mara. She found her in the castle’s great hall, playing chess with Logan. Since there was no sign of Edna and Pearl, Sheree assumed they were at rest somewhere below.
Mara glanced up when Sheree entered the room. The knowing look in her eyes made Sheree blush clear down to her toes.
“Is it time to go see your father?” Mara asked.
“If you don’t mind taking me.”
“Of course not.” Rising, she pointed a finger at Logan. “Don’t be moving any of those pieces while I’m gone.”
“Who, me?” He blinked up at her, his expression one of total innocence.
“We won’t be long.” Leaning down, Mara kissed her husband, then took Sheree’s hand. “Ready? Here we go.”
When they arrived at the hospital, they found her father dressed and ready to go home.
He smiled warmly when he saw her. “Hey, pumpkin!” he exclaimed, folding her in his arms. “You’re just in time to get me out of this place.”
“Where’s Mother?”
“Oh, she had a meeting with the mayor this morning. I was just about to call her. The doctor decided to let me go home a day early. This way we can surprise her.” He nodded at Mara, standing in the doorway. “Miss Blackwood, how nice to see you again.”
“Thank you. You’re looking much better.”
Just then, a nurse bustled into the room pushing a wheelchair. “All set, Mr. Westerbrooke?”
“Yes, indeed, Jeannie.” He settled himself in the chair. “Let’s go. Grab my suitcase, will you, pumpkin?”
“Sure, Dad.”
Sheree and Mara trailed her father and the nurse into the elevator and down to the lobby.
“If you bring your car around to the front of the hospital, we’ll meet you there,” the nurse said.
Sheree glanced at Mara. They hadn’t come by car.
“I’ll get it,” Mara said. “Just give me a few minutes.”
Sheree smiled reassuringly at her father, even as she wondered what car Mara intended to get.
The vampire returned a few minutes later. Keeping her curiosity in check, Sheree followed Mara and her father out of the hospital, felt her eyes widen when Mara opened the passenger door of a late-model sedan.
After settling her father in the front seat and stowing his suitcase in the trunk, Sheree climbed into the backseat.
Mara engaged Brian in small talk on the short ride to the Westerbrooke house.
“I’m not sure I should go in,” Sheree said when Mara pulled into the driveway.
“Of course you’re coming in,” her father said.
“I’m sure Mother doesn’t want to see me right now any more than I want to see her.”
“Sheree, that’s not true!”
“Yes, it is. She’s never going to forgive me for marrying Derek.”
Brian sighed. “Just give her some time,” he urged, getting out of the car.
Sheree joined him on the sidewalk, waited while he got his suitcase out of the trunk. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Dad. I’ll call you when I can.”
“I love you, pumpkin.”
“I love you, too. Take care of yourself.”
“You, too.”
Blinking back her tears, Sheree slid into the front seat. She waved at her dad as Mara pulled away from the curb.
“I take it your mother’s not happy with your choice of a mate,” Mara remarked.
“No. She had a husband and a life all picked out for me.”
“Well, at least she didn’t abandon you in an alley when you were a child.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“It was a long time ago,” Mara said. “And yet it still stings.”
“I’m sorry,” Sheree murmured, though it seemed odd to offer sympathy for something that had happened so long ago. She was curious to know how Mara had survived. Surely someone had adopted her.
“Perhaps I’ll tell you the story one of these days.”
Sheree nodded, thinking she would love to hear it. But there was something else she was curious about. “Where did you get this car?”
“I . . . uh, borrowed it from a parking lot. And right now, we’re going to return it before someone misses it. And then we’re going home.”
Home, Sheree thought. Nothing had ever sounded so good.
It was dark when Sheree and Mara returned to the castle. Logan, Derek, Edna, and Pearl were seated in the great hall. Sheree noted they all looked well fed. It was easy to see once you knew what to look for.
Sheree hugged Derek and exchanged greetings with the other three vampires, but her attention was fixed on the large brown case on one of the side tables. She shivered as Edna lifted the lid and rummaged inside. For better or worse, Sheree thought, her future lay inside that ugly brown box.
“So,” Pearl said, lifting a small bottle from the case, “tomorrow night we’ll administer this and then . . .” She shook the vial, causing the dark red liquid to slosh back and forth.
“And then what?” Sheree asked, her voice sharper than she intended. Her blood was in the mix, after all.
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Edna answered.
“Am I supposed to drink it?” Derek asked, eying the bottle’s contents.
“Yes, dear. It should be quite tasty, if a little tart.”
“The original serum was given by injection,” Mara said.
Edna nodded. “But Pearl thinks, in this case, drinking it will be more effective and faster acting.”
“What’s the gun for?” Sheree asked.
“For you, dear,” Pearl said. “It’s loaded with silver.”
“Why do I need a gun?” Sheree asked, and immediately felt as if she had just asked the stupidest question in the world as all eyes swung in her direction. “Oh.”
Derek slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It was my idea. Silver isn’t just effective against vampires,” he said flatly. “But werewolves, too.”
“You don’t expect me to shoot you?”
“Damn right! If I come after you, it’s the only thing that will stop me.”
Logan glanced at Mara. “So, what’s the plan? We lock Derek in the dungeon, slip him the serum, and hope for the best?”
“It doesn’t sound like much when you put it that way,” Derek said.
“Have you got a better plan?” Mara asked.
“After you lock me up, don’t let Sheree out of your sight. I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time, if I can help it.”
“I want to stay with you,” Sheree said.
“No! Not this time. No one knows how this stuff will affect me. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” He held up one hand, staying the argument he saw coming. “This isn’t open for discussion, wife.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. “I’ve put your life in danger too many times already. I won’t knowingly do it again.”
Pearl cleared her throat. “I think you should feed again tonight,” she said, placing the vial back in the c
ase. “Drink as much as you can hold. It will strengthen your resistance. And whatever you do, don’t eat any meat.”
“All right. Anything else?”
“If Sheree’s willing, you should drink from her, as well.”
“Of course,” Sheree said, “as much as he needs.”
“Anything else?” Derek asked gruffly.
“I think that about covers it,” Pearl said. “Edna?”
“Nothing comes to mind.”
“If we’re done here,” Derek said, taking Sheree by the hand, “I’m going to go make love to my wife.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Later that night, Sheree lay curled against Derek’s side. He had made love to her with such exquisite tenderness, it had brought tears to her eyes because every kiss, every caress, had felt like good-bye.
He ran his fingertips along her lower lip. “Don’t be sad, love.”
“Is it possible to be happy and sad at the same time?”
His knuckles slid ever so lightly down her chin to the curve of her throat. “I can’t be sad while you’re with me.” His gaze moved over her face, as if to memorize every line. “However this turns out, always remember I love you.”
Sheree blinked back her tears. “Everything will be all right. I have to believe that. You have to believe that. I don’t want to go on without you. No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”
“All right, wife,” he said with a wry smile.
She placed her hand on his chest, her fingers curling in his hair. “Are you tired?”
He snorted softly. “Hardly.” His gaze moved to her throat.
“Pearl said you need to feed again.”
“Yeah.”
“Can I go with you?”
“What?” Sitting up, he raked his fingers through his hair, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed, putting his back toward her. “No way.”
“Why not? You watch me eat.”
He swung around to face her, eyes blazing. “Dammit, Sheree, it’s hardly the same thing!”
“It’s not like I don’t know what you do.”
“Some things are best done in private,” he muttered.
“What are you afraid of?”