Night's Promise (24 page)

Throwing back his head, he howled in pain as he fought against the change.

The heart-wrenching howl, the sight of Derek caught between human and werewolf, sent chills racing down Sheree’s spine.

“Up there!” A man’s shout cut through the night. “I see him!”

No, Sheree thought, her blood turning to ice. Oh, no, please no!

Caught in the throes of the change, the werewolf snarled at the three heavily armed men closing in on him.

In fear for Derek’s life, Sheree sprang to her feet. Waving her arms, she ran forward, shouting, “Don’t shoot!”

The men hesitated at her unexpected appearance.

“What the hell!” exclaimed one of the hunters.

And then time warped and everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

The werewolf sprang toward the nearest hunter. The man cried out as the werewolf’s jaws clamped around his throat. Shaking the man as if he were a rag doll, the wolf hurled him into the shadows.

At the hunter’s scream, the other two men opened fire, shooting blindly.

Sheree reeled backward as something slammed into her with the force of a sledge hammer. She stared in horror at the dark stain spreading across her middle. Had she been shot? Why didn’t it hurt, she wondered, as, fighting a wave of nausea, she sank to the ground.

Moments later, Logan and Mara appeared.

Mara jerked the weapon from one hunter. Logan disarmed the other. Not wanting to see the fate of the two men, Sheree closed her eyes.

Voices. Low. Worried. Frantic.

The sound of bones popping.

Derek’s voice, calling her name.

Why did he sound so far away? Why couldn’t she open her eyes?

“Sheree! Sheree! Dammit, Logan, she’s dying.”

Dying? Was he talking about her?

“Sheree, love, don’t leave me!”

It took every ounce of what little strength she had left to open her eyes. Derek was leaning over her, his beautiful dark eyes wet with tears. Mara and Logan stood behind him, faces grave.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered hoarsely. “I never should have asked you to come out here.”

She tried to say that it was all right, that she loved him, but she couldn’t form the words. She whimpered, her hands clutching at her stomach as the numbness wore off. Darkness hovered around her, beckoning her, promising peace, an end to pain. Her eyelids fluttered down.

“Sheree! Dammit, don’t leave me!”

“She’s almost gone.” Mara’s voice, tinged with regret.

“No!” Derek’s tears dripped onto Sheree’s cheeks. “No! I won’t lose her. I can’t.”

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Logan asked. “Have you ever discussed it?”

“Would she want this?” Mara asked dubiously.

“I don’t know. I don’t care!” Choking back a sob, Derek whispered, “Forgive me, love,” and sank his fangs into her throat.

He drank deeply. Torn by guilt, he drank it all—her thoughts, her memories, her hopes and fears. Her love for him.

When she was but a heartbeat away from death, he tore into his own wrist. Pressed the bleeding wound to her mouth. And pleaded with her to drink.

At first, there was no response. And then she swallowed.

Weak with relief, he closed his eyes and prayed.

Prayed that she would find it in her heart to forgive him for stealing her mortality and replacing it with endless night.

Darkness surrounded Sheree, deeper and blacker than anything she had ever known. Her body felt light, alien, as if she could, merely by thinking it, float toward the ceiling. Sounds assaulted her ears—familiar sounds, yet magnified until they were almost painful. Her hand moved restlessly over the blanket that covered her; without thinking, she counted each individual stitch while a distant part of her mind wondered how she could do such a thing.

There was someone nearby. His scent was all around her, comforting in a way she couldn’t explain.

“Sheree?”

“Derek? Where are you?”

“I’m right here. Open your eyes, love.”

She did as he asked, and quickly closed them against the candle’s brilliant light. “Hurts.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so strange?”

“You were badly wounded last night. Do you remember?”

“There were hunters. . . .”

“Yes. What else do you remember?”

“You were shot. You called me to you.”

“That’s right. I was wounded. Hurting. I . . .” He swore under his breath. “I needed blood. I didn’t realize the hunters were so close, or I never would have called you.”

“It’s all right.” She smiled weakly. “I’m fine.”

“Open your eyes, love.”

Squinting, she glanced around the room. It was the bedroom she shared with Derek, yet it looked different somehow. She saw details she had never noticed before—the hairline crack in the ceiling above the bed, the individual threads in the hangings, each brushstroke in the whitewashed walls. Derek stood beside the bed, darkly handsome in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.

She sat up, her gaze fixed on Derek’s face. Even he looked different. “What’s wrong with me? Am I on drugs?”

He laughed softly. “In a way.”

Her gaze darted toward the door. “Your mother’s coming,” she said, and frowned. How did she know that? Mara walked without making a sound.

A moment later, Mara stepped into the room. “How are you feeling, Sheree?”

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with me, and Derek won’t tell me what it is. Will you?”

Mara glanced at her son.

He shook his head.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to it.”

Sheree’s eyes widened as Mara left the room. Never before had she been able to see the vampire vanish, but she saw it now. It wasn’t that she disappeared; it was merely that she moved too swiftly for human eyes to follow. Human eyes?

Feeling as though something had sucked all the air out of the room, Sheree looked at Derek. “What have you done?”

He clenched his hands. “I couldn’t lose you.”

“What have you done?” she asked again, her voice rising.

“You took a bullet meant for me. You were dying. I couldn’t let that happen. Hate me if you will. Destroy me if it will make you feel better, but I didn’t want to exist in a world without you in it.”

“You turned me.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded.

“Go away.”

“Sheree . . .”

“Get out!” She pounded her fists on the mattress. “Get out, get out, get out!”

Pivoting on his heel, he left the room.

Sheree stared after him. It couldn’t be true. She didn’t want to be a vampire. No matter how wonderful it might be to wish herself across the country or dissolve into mist or live forever, she didn’t want to be one of the undead. She wanted to spend summers at the beach working on her tan, and winters skiing in the mountains. She wanted a family, and . . . oh, Lord, what would her mother and father think? How could she tell them? They would be horrified.

It couldn’t be true. She was letting her imagination run away with her. The vampires were playing a cruel trick on her, that’s all it was.

Tears of relief rained down her cheeks. Grabbing a corner of the sheet, she wiped her eyes—and stared in horror at the bloody streaks left by her tears.

It was true.

She was a vampire.
Undead. Nosferatu
.

Her wordless cry of denial rang throughout the castle, echoing off the cold gray walls and vaulted ceilings.

 

 

Downstairs, Derek buried his face in his hands as Sheree’s hoarse cry of pain pierced the very depths of his soul.

“Pearl, did you feel that?” Edna shook her head as if coming out of a trance.

Pearl looked up from her crossword puzzle. “Feel what, dear?”

“Derek made a new vampire last night. She just took her first breath as a fledgling.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Derek’s blood runs in my veins. And hers.”

“The girl!” Pearl’s eyes widened. “He turned the girl? Are you sure?”

“Yes. During the full moon.”

“He didn’t shift?”

“He did, but Sheree got hurt and he shifted back to human form to save her. Don’t you see what that means? He was in control.”

“How can you possibly know all that? I mean, I’ve never known a blood link to be that strong.”

Edna shrugged. “I don’t know, but it was as if I could see it all happening. It was . . .” She smiled. “Amazing.”

“Well, then, I guess Mara won’t be needing us for anything else,” Pearl remarked. “I’m thinking we should get back to Texas, where we belong, and I’m thinking we should have left yesterday.”

“You’re probably right. But I’d sure like to stick around and see how Sheree reacts to being a vampire. Just think about it. She was made by Mara’s son. That means she has ancient blood running through her veins. She’ll be almost as powerful as Derek.”

“A force to be reckoned with, to be sure,” Pearl agreed. “Now, let’s pack.”

 

 

Sheree felt numb and drained of tears when Mara entered the room. “Hello, daughter.”

Daughter
. That was funny, Sheree thought bitterly. “I want to go home.”

“Then go.”

Sheree frowned. Was it as simple as that?

“You’re a vampire now. A thought will take you anywhere you wish to be.”

Curious to see if that was true, Sheree tossed the covers aside, surprised when they flew across the room and landed in a heap against the wall.

“You also have a vampire’s strength,” Mara remarked. “I understand your anger, your wish to leave us. No one will stop you. But, like it or not, you are family now. If you need us, you have only to call.”

“I won’t.”

Mara nodded. “Vampires are not only possessive about territory, but about those we love. There is a bond between you and Derek now that can never be broken. It runs deeper than the sharing of blood, deeper even than the wedding vows you exchanged.”

“I don’t care. He had no right to do what he did without asking me. I can never forgive him for that.”

“Never is a long time for vampires. You’re a fledgling now. But my blood runs in your veins. You will be stronger than most new vampires, but not invincible. Remember to stay out of the sun.” Moving toward the door, she murmured, “Farewell, daughter.”

Determined not to shed any more tears, Sheree faced the window. The sky was lowering and gray. Lightning split the heavens. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Feeling like Dorothy, she closed her eyes, clicked her heels together, and wished for home.

A mighty rushing filled her ears.

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in her living room in California.

It was seven o’clock in the morning and the sun was up.

Overcome with a sudden lethargy, Sheree dropped to her hands and knees. Grateful that the drapes were closed, she managed to crawl into the hall closet and shut the door.

It was her last conscious thought before sinking into an ebony sea of oblivion.

Sheree woke with the setting of the sun. One minute the world was black, the next, sensory information flooded her mind. She knew where she was and what time it was. She heard an argument coming from the house next door, traffic noise, a faint sound that eluded her at first, and then, with a laugh, she realized it was the sound of a moth fluttering near the ceiling.

But all that faded into insignificance compared to the horrible thirst that plagued her, an all-consuming thirst unlike anything she had ever known.

Because she was a vampire.

Pain knifed through her whole body. She knew instinctively what it meant. She needed to feed. She needed blood. She had watched Derek call his prey to him. Could she do that? Could she summon a stranger to her and drink from him? Just the thought filled her with revulsion, but another part—the ravenous vampire part—demanded to be fed by whatever means necessary.

Where was the best place to find blood?

She knew the answer almost before she asked the question. Hurrying into the bathroom, she came to an abrupt halt when she passed in front of the mirror. She knew a moment of horror with the realization that she cast no reflection. Good thing she didn’t need a mirror to apply her lipstick, she thought, and smothered a burst of hysterical laughter as she stepped into the shower. She was amazed at how wonderful it felt. She could feel each drop of water splashing against her skin.

She washed quickly, avoided looking at the mirror as she went into the bedroom and dressed in her favorite Goth gown, boots, and wig.

Moments later, a thought took her to Drac’s Dive. It was like being there for the first time. Colors were sharper, brighter, the music was louder, the notes were more distinct, and the smell—people, booze, sweat, fear, desire, lust. And, over all that, the beating of dozens of hearts, the rich, coppery scent of blood.

She stood inside the door, trying to absorb everything at once even as she wondered how to shut out the constant barrage of sounds and smells.

“It takes practice,” said a familiar voice. “In time, you’ll learn to shut it out.”

“Logan! What are you doing here?”

“Derek sent me.”

Derek. Something twisted deep inside her at the sound of his name.

“He should be here, not me. He sired you. Teaching you how to adjust to your new lifestyle is his responsibility, but he said you didn’t want to see him. Is that right?”

“Yes. I never want to see him again.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have no desire to talk about Derek. Just tell me what I need to know.”

Taking her by the arm, Logan led her to a booth in the far corner. He gestured for her to sit, then slid in beside her. “I think you already know most of it. All you’re lacking is confidence in your abilities. You need to forget all your preconceived notions about drinking blood. Your mind will tell you it’s repulsive. Don’t listen. Open yourself to your new nature.”

“I don’t want to be a vampire.” She glanced at all the wannabe vampires milling around the club and wondered if they would still wish for someone to bring them across if they knew what it was really like.

“Sheree?”

“I don’t want to be a vampire,” she said again. And then she smiled. She didn’t have to be a vampire. All she had to do was find Pearl and Edna and ask them to whip up a new batch of their serum. It had worked on newly turned vampires in the past. Why not on her?

She groaned as pain knifed through her again.

“Come on,” Logan said, “you need blood.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t.” Taking her by the arm, he led her out of the club and into the shadows at the end of the street. Biting into his wrist, he held it out to her. “Vampires don’t usually drink from others of their kind, but tonight we’ll make an exception.”

Sheree’s mouth watered at the sight of the dark red blood slowly oozing from the wound. Shutting her mind to everything else, she grasped his forearm.

“No!”

Startled by Derek’s voice, Sheree dropped Logan’s arm.

Derek shoved his stepfather away, then stepped between Logan and Sheree. “If you’re going to drink vampire blood, Sheree Blackwood, it’s going to be mine.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking after my wife.”

“Leave me alone. I hate you.”

“I don’t care. Logan’s right. Teaching you how to be a vampire is my responsibility, and I’m taking over, right now.” Derek glanced at Logan. “You got a problem with that?”

“She’s all yours.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Logan strolled back to the club.

“Do you want to feed from me, or learn how to hunt?” Derek asked.

Sheree started to tell him to go to hell when the pain doubled her over. She wrapped her arms around her waist, certain she was dying, and hurting too badly to care.

Stifling a curse, Derek bit into his wrist. “Drink.”

She wanted to refuse, but the scent of his blood enflamed her senses. Grasping his arm in both hands, she lowered her head and took what she so desperately craved.

Later, she was embarrassed by what she had done.

“No reason to be self-conscious about it,” Derek said. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t need you to take me.”

“Don’t argue with me, wife,” he warned, taking her hand in his. “I’m bigger. I’m older. I’m stronger.”

“You’re nothing but a bully!” Eyes flashing defiance, she tried to wrest her hand from his, but he was right. He was definitely stronger.

“You must have questions,” Derek said. “What do you want to know?”

“Nothing. I don’t intend to be a vampire very long.”

“Right. Pearl’s formula. The one you wouldn’t let me drink.”

“Maybe I should have.”

“Well, I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. I’m not letting you drink it, either.”

“You can’t stop me!”

“Can’t I?” He jerked her to a stop, then cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

She had felt touches of his preternatural power before, but never anything like this. It crashed over her like a wave, stealing the breath from her body, the strength from her limbs.

“I made you,” he said. “If I want, I can control your every thought, your every move. Do we understand each other?”

“I hate you.”

“So you said. Hate me all you want, love. But you’re not taking that formula.”

He transported the two of them to her house, stood behind her while she unlocked the door.

She crossed the threshold, then turned, blocking his way. “I rescind your invitation,” she said, her voice thick with triumph.

He snorted softly as he stepped across the threshold. After closing the door, he leaned against it. “Lesson number one. I’m your sire. You can’t keep me out.” Following her into the living room, he said, “Lesson number two. You need to feed every night for the first year or so. I will teach you how it’s done.”

Sheree flopped onto the sofa, her arms folded across her chest.

“Lesson number three. Holy water and silver will burn you. Fire will destroy you. A stake in the heart will kill you. Lesson number four. Other vampires are your enemy.” He dropped into the chair across from the sofa. “We do not share territory willingly. Master vampires, like Mara, will fight to the death to defend what is theirs.”

“What about your family?” She didn’t want to ask him anything, but she had to know. “They all get along.”

Derek stretched his legs out in front of him, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, fingers interlocked. “The Cordova family seems to be the exception to the rule. I think it has to do with the fact that they truly are family.”

“Like you and Mara.”

He nodded. “Exactly. And you’re part of our family, whether you like it or not.”

“Am I going to meet them?”

“I think that might be a good idea.”

“I still hate you,” she said.

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Is it okay if I go to my room now, master?”

“It’s your house.”

She glowered at him, then flounced up the stairs.

“I can live with your hatred, heart of mine,” he murmured. “But I can’t live without you.”

 

 

Derek took Sheree hunting at Nosferatu’s Den the next night. She had expected to hate it, to be clumsy. Embarrassed. But it came all too easily.

She chose a single man at the bar, one who was attractive and smelled clean. She called to him with her mind and as simple as that, he was hers.

Derek followed the two of them outside, stood behind her as she bent over the man’s neck. She hesitated a moment, but the temptation of his blood could not be denied.

“Careful,” Derek said. “You don’t have to bite hard. Your fangs are razor sharp.”

A gentle nip was all it took.

“Not too much,” Derek warned. “If you drink your fill, you’ll kill him.”

She fed from three different men.

“They all taste different,” she mused as they left the Den. “Why is that?”

Derek shrugged. “Different blood types, different diets.”

“What if they’re sick? How will I know?”

“You’d know, but you needn’t worry about catching anything. You’re immune to human disease.”

When they reached her house, she bid him a frosty good night and went to her room. It was like being a prisoner in her own home, she thought irritably, knowing he was downstairs. She was a big, bad vampire now. She didn’t need a keeper.

She was trying to read when Derek opened the door and poked his head into the room. “Tomorrow night,” he said.

“Tomorrow night, what?”

“I’m taking you to Mara’s to meet the rest of the family.”

Before she could say yes or no, he dissolved into mist and was gone.

She couldn’t help feeling a little nervous at the prospect of meeting Derek’s vampire family. What if they didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them?

In an effort to put her fears out of her mind, she tried to dissolve into mist. Derek seemed to do it without any effort at all. Why couldn’t she? She had tried on several occasions when she was alone in her room, but, try as she might, nothing happened. Had her sire done something to prevent it?

 

 

The following evening, Sheree insisted on calling her parents before she did anything else. She was glad when her father answered the phone.

“I was about to send the police looking for you,” her father said. “Where have you been?”

“I guess you could say we were on a short honeymoon,” she replied.

“I tried calling several times, but wherever you were, there was no service.”

“We were in Romania, in the mountains.”

“Romania!”

“Derek’s mother has a . . . a summer home there. She let us use it for a few days. How are you, Dad?”

“Ready to walk you down the aisle. You know your mom. She says you’re not really married until you exchange your vows in a church.”

“What? Oh, of course. We haven’t decided on a date yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as we do. I’ve got to go now. I’m on my way to meet Derek’s extended family.”

“You sound a little nervous.”

“Well, I guess I am.”

“I’m sure they’ll love you,” Brian said. “I know your mom would love to say hello but she’s out.”

“That’s okay. Tell her hi for me. I love you.”

“I love you, too, pumpkin. Good night.”

“Are you ready now?” Derek asked.

“I’m hungry.”

“You can stall as long as you want, but we’re doing this tonight. Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Are you always going to be this bossy?”

“Probably. Let’s go. Mara hates to be kept waiting.”

 

 

Mara’s house in the Hollywood Hills was lit up like a Christmas tree. Sheree peered out the window as Derek parked the car in the driveway. It looked like every light in the place was on.

Sheree was a bundle of nerves by the time they arrived. She had taken her time choosing her prey, fed as slowly as possible, insisted she needed to feed again.

Derek had indulged her, a knowing gleam in his eye. And now he was opening the front door, escorting her inside. She had no idea what to expect as she stepped into the living room.

All conversation came to a stop, all eyes swung in her direction.

Sheree’s gaze swept over them in a glance. All the men were dark haired and handsome, the women lovely.

Mara smiled as she came forward to embrace the two of them. “Derek,” she said, “why don’t you make the introductions?”

“Sure, Ma. Sheree, this is Roshan DeLongpre and his wife, Brenna. Brenna is the family’s only practicing witch.”

Brenna was lovely, with waist-length red hair and eyes almost as green as Mara’s. A necklace of amber and jet circled her neck.

“This is Vince and Cara, their twin sons, Rafe and Rane, their wives Kathy and Savannah.”

Sheree smiled at each one in turn, although she doubted she would be able to tell the twins apart. She noted all the men and women seemed to be in their mid-twenties except for Savannah, who appeared to be in her early forties.

“And this,” Derek said, smiling at a lovely young woman with pale blond hair and blue eyes, “is Abbey Marie, Savannah’s daughter. She’s the only mortal left in the family.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Sheree said. The girl looked like a younger version of her mother. Was it strange for her to be the only human among so many vampires?

“How are things going in New York, Abs?” Derek asked.

She shrugged. “Not as well as I’d hoped. I think I’m going to give up my aspirations of being an actress.”

Rane put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Never give up, sweetie.”

“Maybe you’d have better luck here in Hollywood,” Vince suggested. “I’ll bet Logan could put in a good word for you.”