Night's Promise (15 page)

Mara stood at the window, scarcely aware of Logan’s arm around her waist. She didn’t have to see what had happened to know what Derek had done. She had sensed his overpowering need to kill, the deer’s panic, her son’s remorse. Ever since he was a child, Derek had loved the deer, the squirrels, and the rabbits that roamed the countryside around her home in the Hollywood Hills. He had once nursed a wounded fawn back to life. He had occasionally fed on animals, but never any of the deer.

“He’ll be all right,” Logan said, his voice pitched above the noise of the sudden downpour and the thunder that accompanied it as the storm broke.

“Do you really believe that?” She leaned against him, grateful for his strength, his unwavering devotion. “Because I don’t.”

“Maybe it’s time to pay a call on those two old broads,” he suggested.

He ducked out of the way when she whirled around. But instead of hitting him, playfully or otherwise, as he expected, she threw her arms around him.

“Logan, I could kiss you!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Sheree knew a moment of disappointment when she woke alone in bed the following evening. She had hoped Derek would spend the day at her side; now, she wondered where he was.

There was an odd feeling to the house as she tiptoed down the hall, thinking she might spend some time in Derek’s bed, in Derek’s arms. There was only one more night until the full moon. She knew he was worried about what he might become, what he might do. Perhaps her presence would offer him some comfort.

But his room was empty.

She paused in front of the bedroom Mara and Logan shared but lacked the nerve to knock on their door.

In the kitchen, she tried to determine what was causing her uneasiness. And then she knew. She was feeling the same tension the vampires in the house were feeling.

Sitting at the table, nibbling on a slice of bread and jelly, she was struck by the realization that she was sharing a house with three vampires. And that no one knew where she was, or who she was with. And that her cell phone was dead, and even if it was working,
she
could be dead before help arrived, should she need it. It was a sobering thought.

Muttering, “Stop it,” she poured herself a glass of orange juice. She wasn’t afraid of Derek or his family, so why was she entertaining such morbid thoughts? Maybe, deep down, she was more afraid than she wanted to admit. Well, who could blame her? Mara was the oldest vampire on the planet. As Derek had said, none of the rules applied to her, although Sheree had no idea what rules vampires adhered to, if any.

And then there was Derek. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t begin to imagine the stress he must be under, or how he would react if he couldn’t resist the call of the full moon.

Her nerves grew taut as darkness fell. Where were they?

She whirled around when she realized she was no longer alone. “Derek . . . oh.” She glanced from Logan to Mara. “Where is he?”

“He asked us to lock him in the dungeon.”

“The dungeon! Why? The moon won’t be full until tomorrow night.”

Mara didn’t answer, just stood there, her expression one of unutterable sorrow.

“He’s afraid, isn’t he?” Sheree asked. “Afraid he might hurt me.”

Logan nodded. “That’s part of it.”

“Did something happen?”

“He killed a deer last night.”

“Oh.” It was sad, Sheree thought, but surely it didn’t warrant such concern.

“He ripped out its throat and drained it of blood,” Logan explained. “He was completely out of control.”

Out of control. Sheree could easily imagine the carnage if that had happened in the city, among unsuspecting men and women. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” Mara said.

“Just be careful,” Logan added.

The dungeon was located at the bottom of a long flight of narrow stone steps. There were no electric lights, only a few lanterns that cast flickering shadows on the gray stone walls and floor.

A number of small cells lined both sides of the cavernous room. A larger, square cell stood at the end of the corridor. Barefoot and shirtless, Derek paced the confines of his prison. A long silver chain linked his left ankle to a heavy bolt in the floor.

His head came up, his eyes zeroing in on her as she approached. “Go away,” he growled.

“No. I don’t want you to be alone. Why are you chained to the floor?”

“The silver grounds me so I can’t use my preternatural powers to escape.”

“Oh.” She filed that bit of knowledge away, wondering if she would ever know all there was to know about vampires and werewolves.

“Sheree, I’m sorry I got you involved in all this.”

The droop of his shoulders, the regret in his voice, tugged at her heart. Forcing a smile, she said, “It hasn’t been all bad.”

“Just most of it,” he muttered darkly. “Stay there!” he hissed when she moved closer to the bars.

“I want to help.” She closed the remaining distance between them, then thrust her arm between two of the bars. “Take what you need.”

He recoiled from her as if she was offering him a cup of hemlock. “I can’t, love. Not now.”

“Now is when you need it the most.”

He couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t trust himself to stop after a sip or two.

He was still at war with himself when Logan appeared, carrying one of the easy chairs from the living room.

Logan smiled at Sheree. “You might as well be comfortable if you’re going to stay down here,” he remarked, positioning the chair close to the cell. “Oh, and Mara sent you this.” He pulled a candy bar from his pocket and handed it to Sheree. “It used to be her favorite.”

“Thank her for me, please.”

“Sure. Can I bring you anything else?”

“Not now, thanks.”

Logan’s gaze moved over Derek. “You doing all right, son?”

Derek nodded, his jaw clenched.

“Well, holler if you need anything,” Logan said, and vanished from their sight.

Sheree sank down in the chair, her fingers tracing the logo on the candy wrapper.

After a moment, Derek sat on the floor, his arms resting on his bent knees. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Tell me about you. What kind of a little girl were you? Dirty face and pigtails?”

“That was rarely allowed,” Sheree said, pretending to be shocked by the mere idea, and then grinned. “I was an only child and my parents spoiled me shamelessly. I’m afraid I took advantage of them, but they never complained. I had enough dresses and dolls for a dozen girls. And horseback riding lessons and ballet lessons. And my very own TV. Of course, what I really wanted most of all was a little sister, because my best friend had one. Did you ever miss having brothers and sisters?”

“Not really. But after I turned thirteen, I missed having friends. I couldn’t play outdoors after that and gradually I stopped hanging out with them because it was too hard to explain why I couldn’t go outside, and why I couldn’t grab a hamburger on a Saturday afternoon, or spend the day surfing.”

“What about girls?”

He snorted softly. He had never had any trouble in that department. “Dating was easier in some ways. There wasn’t anything unusual about taking in a late movie or going for a walk along the beach after sunset. Things like that. But I never saw the same girl more than two or three times. It was just too hard to hide what I was, to keep coming up with excuses for why I couldn’t take them out for an afternoon at the beach or come over for Sunday dinner, or take in a matinee.”

Sheree shifted in the chair, thinking he must have had a lonely childhood. How awful, to have to hide who you were, to always be on your guard.

“It wasn’t all bad,” Derek remarked. “My family spoiled me, too, in their way. I got to do most of the things boys like to do, like hunting and fishing, only we did our hunting and fishing after dark. Logan taught me to wrestle and play baseball, and he took me rock climbing and hiking. . . .” His voice trailed off as his hands clenched at his sides.

“What is it?” Sheree asked. “What’s happening?”

“I can feel the werewolf in me trying to get out.”

“That’s not supposed to happen until tomorrow night, is it?”

“Who the hell knows?” He raked his fingers through his hair, then stood and began pacing the floor, the thick chain rattling with every step.

Rising, Sheree folded her hands around the bars. “Derek, drink from me. Maybe it will help.”

He growled deep in his throat, and then, in a blur of movement, he was standing in front of her, one of her arms clutched in his hand, his head bent over her wrist.

As his fangs pierced her flesh, she gasped, surprised by the pain. It had never hurt before.

A low purr filled the air as he drank.

And drank.

Sheree closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Mara was at her side.

“Derek,” his mother said sharply. “Let her go!”

He looked up, his eyes blood red. And then he snarled at her.

Mara dissolved into mist, then rematerialized inside the cell. Gripping her son’s arm, she stared into his eyes. “Let her go. Now.”

He obeyed instantly, then backed away from her.

A moment later, Mara was again at Sheree’s side. Eyes narrowed, she asked, “Are you all right?”

Sheree nodded, too afraid to answer lest she burst into tears. Once she recovered, she asked, “What’s going to happen to him?”

“I wish I knew. I brought you here because I thought your blood would soothe him, as it has in the past, but I was wrong. He’s losing control of himself, just as he feared he would. I think it might be better if you come upstairs.”

“Let her stay,” Derek said, his voice filled with guilt. “I need her.”

“Don’t be a fool. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“Sheree,” he whispered. “Please stay.”

“I don’t advise it,” Mara said, “but the choice is yours. If you decide to stay, you have only to call me if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

With a last warning glance at her son, Mara left the dungeon.

Sheree sat in the chair again, watching as the red slowly faded from Derek’s eyes. He sank down on the floor, his back braced against the wall. She bit down on her lower lip, searching for something to say, some words of comfort, but nothing came to mind. She had clung to the hope that the full moon would come and go without incident, but it seemed a foolish hope, given what had just happened.

Sheree kept Derek company until the rising sun coaxed him to sleep. Exhausted, she went upstairs to bed, only to lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the night would bring. It seemed a given that he would shift into a werewolf. She wished she knew more about such creatures, but the only information she had came from horror movies. They were compelled to change when the moon was full. They terrorized humans, often killing them in hideous ways. She had never believed in werewolves the way she believed in vampires. Now, it seemed werewolves were also real. If vampires and werewolves existed, why not all the monsters of myth and legend? Fairies and trolls, giants and elves, zombies and leprechauns and the invisible man!

Derek had said little last night, his thoughts obviously turned inward. She could only imagine what he was thinking, feeling. Being a vampire was bad enough, but at least that was something he knew, something he could control, at least most of the time. She knew what he feared was being out of control, that when he was a werewolf he would be a beast with no conscience, no memory of his humanity. That he would savage anything that crossed his path.

Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes, and prayed that the things Derek feared the most would never come to pass.

One way or another, things would come to a head when the moon rose tonight.

“I win!” Pearl exclaimed, tossing her cards onto the table. “That’s three games in a row.”

“You always were lucky at cards,” Edna remarked. “I think you cheat.”

“Well, of course I cheat,” Pearl said. “Are you just now realizing that?”

“What? You mean to sit there and admit that all these years you’ve been cheating me, your best and only friend?”

“It’s more fun than losing, dear.”

Edna had worked herself up into a fine lather when there was a knock on the door of their hotel room.

Pearl met Edna’s wide-eyed gaze. “What is she doing here?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

Gathering her courage, Pearl opened the door. “Mara,” she said, “how nice to see you again.”

“Spare me your fake hospitality. I need your help.”

Pearl glanced at Edna. “You need
our
help?”

“The serum you were working on during the war. Do you have any left?”

“No.”

“Can you cook up another batch?”

“Are you thinking of trying it on Derek?” Edna looked at Pearl with an I-told-you-so expression.

“I don’t know what else to do. This, this . . . whatever it is, is tearing him up inside. I know I should have come to you sooner.” Instead, her pride and distrust had cost them valuable time.

“I have the formula memorized,” Pearl said. “Of course, there’s no guarantee it will work.”

“It killed two of the werewolves when you tried it before,” Mara said.

“True, and that’s what you want to happen now, isn’t it?”

“Only if you’re sure it will destroy the werewolf gene without killing my son in the process.”

“The results with the vampires was mixed,” Edna remarked. “It cured two of them, but had no effect on Rafe. Of course, those vampires were very young, as I recall. Isn’t that right, Pearl?”

“Yes, dear. With a few modifications, I think we can adjust the formula so it will kill the werewolf gene without hurting the host.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “What kinds of modifications?”

Pearl tapped her forefinger against her lips. “Well, for starters, I think we need to add a bit of wolf’s bane for added killing power, and a few drops of your blood.”

“My blood? Why? It’s already running in his veins.”

“A little fresh vampire blood couldn’t hurt.”

“Can you have the serum ready in time?”

“Goodness, no,” Pearl exclaimed. “We have to collect the ingredients and prepare them properly. That will take several days. And it has to cook for at least forty-eight hours.”

“We don’t have forty-eight hours!” Mara snapped.

Pearl squared her shoulders. “Then you were right. You should have come to us sooner.” She cringed when the ancient vampire’s eyes went red.
I’m dead
, she thought, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Mara glared at her, then nodded. “Just do what you have to do.” With a wave of her hand, she was gone.

Pearl collapsed in Edna’s arms. “I thought I was a goner for sure,” she exclaimed.

“I thought we both were.”

“We’d better pray this batch works,” Pearl murmured, then grabbed Edna by the hand. “Come on, we need to get to work.”

“All right,” Edna said, “but I want to be near Derek when the moon rises.”

“Edna . . .”

“Don’t you ‘Edna’ me. I want to see him change. It’s the reason we came here, after all!”