Night's Promise

by Amanda Ashley

  Sheree glanced at Mara for help that she knew would not be forthcoming. If she refused to willingly let them take her blood, they would just take it by force.

  With a sigh of resignation, she rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm. She turned her head, her gaze fixed on the werewolf, while the vampire siphoned her blood.

  She fought a hysterical urge to laugh as she wondered if her life could get any more bizarre.

  With the coming of dawn, the werewolf retreated. By then, everyone else had gone to bed.

  For no apparent reason, transforming from werewolf to vampire was less painful, though it left him aching from head to foot.

  Derek washed up in the kitchen sink, then went to his room and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before making his way to Sheree’s chamber.

  Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him. An indrawn breath told him she was only pretending to be asleep.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  Her excitement and trepidation were evident in the sudden quickening of her heart and the faint tinge of fear on her skin.

  He was about to leave when she scooted over, drawing back the bed covers in silent invitation.

  He hesitated a moment before sliding in beside her, though he was careful not to touch her. Tension stretched between them.

  “I want to thank you for what you did,” he said quietly. “If it wasn’t for you, that man would be dead now, and I . . .”

  Her hand, small and warm, found his. “Was it terrible?”

  “There aren’t words to describe it. I knew what I was doing but I couldn’t stop myself. I looked at that tiny infant and all I could think about was ripping it to shreds.” He choked back a sob. “If I’d killed that baby . . .” Even when he’d been a new vampire, he had never been out of control, never been tempted to do anything as vile as kill an infant or a child.

  “Derek, don’t think about it. It’s over for now. I just know the old ladies’ serum will work and . . .”

  “And I’ll still be a vampire and you’ll still be . . .”

  “The woman in love with you.”

  His anguish was palpable, her need to comfort him overpowering. Whispering his name, she drew him into her embrace, one hand stroking his hair.

  His arms went around her. Murmuring her name, he buried his face in her hair. “Hold me.”

  “I’m here.” She could feel him trembling, knew he was appalled by the events of the night.

  “Don’t let me go.”

  “I won’t. There now, everything is all right. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

  Slipping a hand behind her head, he drew her closer, his gaze searching hers.

  Her name was a groan on his lips as his mouth sought hers in a kiss filled with desire and a desperate need to blot everything from his mind but the woman in his arms.

  “Sheree . . .”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I know.” She turned her head to the side, granting him access to her neck.

  It wasn’t hunger that drove him now, but a deep-seated need to draw her essence into himself, as if he could absorb her goodness along with the sweet taste of her life’s blood.

  Sheree’s hands drifted over his body, arousing his desire and her own as her fingers explored his back, the indentation between his shoulders, the solid column of his neck, the silkiness of his hair.

  When he drew back, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with all the yearning in her heart. He was a vampire, strong, invincible, and yet he needed her in ways that no other man ever would. He aroused a keen, protective instinct within her that she had never known she possessed. In that moment, she knew she would readily defend his life with her own, if necessary.

  “My tigress,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe.

  “Reading my thoughts again, are you?” she asked with feigned anger.

  A wicked grin was her answer.

  Smiling in return, she filled her mind with images of the two of them wrapped in an erotic embrace, then purred, “What am I thinking now?”

  “Sheree?” His voice was thick with desire. And doubt.

  “Don’t you want me?”

  “You know I do, but . . .”

  “But you’re afraid you’ll hurt me.”

  He nodded, his dark eyes haunted.

  With a sigh, she kissed his cheek. If he could wait, so could she. She just hoped he wouldn’t make her wait too long.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Derek held Sheree in his arms until she fell asleep. Her love continued to astonish him. He wanted nothing more than to possess her fully, to make her his in the most primal way, but he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her. She might not be afraid, but he was scared enough for both of them. Except for that one night when he had almost taken too much, a little of her blood satisfied his hunger. Her nearness soothed him. But what if all that changed while they were making love? She was so fragile. He could break her in two without even trying. A few swallows too many and she could die in his arms. Was it just caution that was keeping him from making love to her until he was certain he had his hunger, his desire, and his werewolf under control? Or was something else holding him back? And if so, what the hell was it, except fear of hurting the woman he loved? He shook his head. Damned if he knew.

  He thought of the hours he had spent as a werewolf. He had reveled in his strength and power, in the knowledge that he was almost indestructible. Left alone, he would have felt no guilt at all had he killed the farmer and his family. Guilt and remorse were foreign to the werewolf. Only Sheree’s voice, declaring that she was waiting for him, that she would hate him if he killed the man, had kept him from tearing the farmer to pieces.

  What if that primal urge to rend human flesh overpowered him while they were making love? The werewolf might not feel guilt, but hurting Sheree would destroy the vampire.

  He thought of the serum the two old women were concocting and prayed that it would make him wholly mortal, that he would be able to share his entire life with Sheree, give her children. The thought of being susceptible to disease—and death—was far less appealing. He liked the power being a vampire gave him—the physical strength, the invincibility, the preternatural senses that allowed him to see and hear things denied to humans.

  Standing under the stars, he gazed out over the valley. If he was totally honest with himself, he didn’t want to be human, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for the woman he loved. Yet if he could persuade her to accept the Dark Gift, they could have centuries together instead of the few short years allotted to mankind.

  For one brief moment, he considered turning her while she slept, then quickly shook the thought away. Becoming a vampire would have to be her choice. All he needed to do was find a way to convince her.

  “Just turn her,” said a familiar voice from behind him.

  “The way you turned Logan?” Derek asked, swinging around to face his mother. “Did he ever hate you for it?”

  “If he did, he never said so.”

  “And if he had?”

  Mara made a gesture of dismissal. “Why worry about something that never happened? He loved me before I turned him. He loves me now. Why fret over the past?”

  “And what if I turn Sheree and she hates me for it? I’ll have ruined her life and my own.”

  “Your conscience is your one weakness, you know. You have a sense of right and wrong a priest would be proud of.” Mara smiled wistfully. “As did your father. Come,” she said, linking her arm with his, “I’m hungry and the night is still young.”

  Derek felt no need to feed, but, as always, he couldn’t refuse his mother’s invitation, or the chance to watch her hunt. Even after centuries, she found pleasure in finding and stalking her prey, sometimes with as much cunning and stealth as a lioness, sometimes striking with the quick precision of a cobra.

  They hunted the dark streets of the city until she found someone to her liking: a strong young man staggering home from the local pub.
>
  Derek watched as she worked her vampire magic on him, slowly seducing him until he would have given her anything she asked, and then she took what she needed. She fed quickly, gave him an affectionate pat on the cheek before wiping her memory from his mind, and sent him happily on his way, none the wiser.

  Derek had to admire her skill.

  “Was he not to your liking?” she asked when the man was out of sight. “If not, I’m sure we can find a pretty young thing who’s more to your taste.”

  Derek shook his head. Drinking from another woman felt wrong, like cheating on Sheree.

  Mara clucked softly. “A few drops of her blood may satisfy your craving, but it isn’t enough to sustain you indefinitely.”

  He said nothing, but he knew she was right. Sooner or later, he needed to feed, and he would have to take more than Sheree could spare. Much more.

  Walking back the way they had come, he mesmerized a young couple strolling down the street. He drank from them both before sending them on their way. Their blood was neither as satisfying nor as sweet as Sheree’s, but he felt better immediately.

  Like it or not, his mother had been right again.

  She laughed softly as they crossed the street. “I’m always right. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

  When they returned to the castle, Logan was waiting for them. Mara kissed Derek soundly on the cheek; then, with a come-hither smile to her husband, she went upstairs to get ready for bed.

  Logan would have followed, but Derek asked him to stay.

  “What do you need?” Logan asked, resuming his place on the sofa.

  “Did you ever hate my mother for turning you against your will?”

  “No. I would have done anything, given up anything I had, to be with her. Why?”

  “She thinks I should turn Sheree.”

  “It’s a terrible thing to do to someone,” Logan remarked. “You’re not only stealing their life, but everything they know, everything they love.”

  “Then why didn’t you hate my mother?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I should have, but I loved her so damn much, all I wanted was to be with her. Mortal or vampire, I didn’t care what I was, as long as we were together.”

  “But she didn’t stay with you.”

  “No, she didn’t. She turned other men after she left me. I don’t know how many. She wouldn’t tell me, said she didn’t remember. It mattered to me once, but as they say, all’s well that ends well. It was worth the centuries of misery and loneliness without her to have her with me now.”

  “And if she said she was leaving?”

  “Then I’d let her go. I didn’t beg her to stay the first time, and I sure as hell wouldn’t do it now.” Logan stared into the distance for a moment before saying, “If you bring Sheree across without asking her, there’s no telling what her reaction will be. There’s a good chance she’ll hate you for it, or hate what she’s become and destroy herself. Are you prepared to live with the consequences?”

  Derek shuddered at the visual Logan’s words planted in his mind—an image of Sheree cursing his name as she walked out into the sun’s light, screaming in agony as her body burst into flames.

  Jaw clenched, he shook his head, hoping to dispel the image, but later that night, it lingered in his mind until the Dark Sleep dragged him down into oblivion.

  The next evening, Mara decided it was time to go back home. Though she had fond memories of living in the castle in days gone by, the old place was in serious need of repair and refurbishing, neither of which she was in the mood to tackle just now.

  It took only a short time to pack the few things they had brought with them and lock up the place.

  Sheree closed her eyes and held her breath as the four of them stood in a tight circle, holding hands.

  When she opened her eyes again, they were in the middle of the living room in Mara’s house in the Hollywood Hills. “I’ll never get used to that,” Sheree remarked when the world stopped spinning. “Never.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll be able to do it on your own,” Mara said, heading toward the stairs. “Coming, Logan?”

  Sheree looked at Derek, one brow raised. “What did she mean by that?”

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s crazy. So, what now? Do you want to stay here, or go to your place?”

  “I think I should go home, see if my plants are still alive, and clean out my fridge.”

  “Whatever you want, love.”

  When they reached her house, Derek walked Sheree to the door. At her request, he followed her inside to make sure no one was hiding in the closet or under the bed.

  “All clear,” he said, returning to the living room. “If you need me, just call. On the phone, or in your mind, I’ll hear you and I’ll come.”

  “Do you have to go so soon?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Do you mind if I go change? I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Take your time.”

  Taking her bags, she went up the stairs.

  Derek tracked her movements while he made a slow circuit of her living room. He paused in front of a narrow bookshelf. Three shelves were crowded with figurines of vampires, some made out of pewter, others of glass or ceramic. The rest of the bookcase was filled with books and movies about vampires, including several different versions of the movie Dracula.

  He couldn’t help wondering if she still found vampires fascinating.

  He turned at the sound of her footsteps, thinking she got prettier every time he saw her. Her cheeks flushed under his admiring gaze.

  “It’s a little chilly in here,” she said, suddenly nervous. “I think I’ll light a fire.”

  “Let me.” A wave of his hand, and flames crackled in the hearth.

  Sheree stared at him, her eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She glared at him. “Don’t tell me that’s another secret you can’t share.”

  “No,” he said, laughing. “I really don’t know. I just think it and it happens.”

  “Can you put it out the same way?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s . . . amazing, I guess.” She curled up in a corner on the sofa. “So,” she said, counting on her fingers, “you can dissolve into mist, read minds, start fires with a thought, and vanish in a puff of smoke. What else?”

  Sitting beside her, he drew her into his arms. “I can kiss you until you stop thinking.”

  “Can you?” Sheree gazed up at him, her eyes glowing with affection.

  “Shall I prove it?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering down. “Oh, yes.”

  His kiss, when it came, was soft, a gentle wooing that warmed her heart and invaded her soul. She clung to him, her hands restlessly moving over his back, tangling in his hair to keep him close. She loved the feel of his body against her own. He was such a strong, masculine man, everything female within her responded to his touch, to his nearness. His hands caressed her and she moaned softly, wishing he would make love to her. She knew that he thought it was dangerous, that he worried about hurting her, but she wasn’t afraid.

  Frowning, she drew back so she could see his face. “Why is it I’m not afraid of you?”

  He lifted one brow. “An odd question at such a time, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so. I was a little afraid when I first realized you were actually a vampire but I wasn’t afraid of you, just of what you are. And that didn’t last very long. I wasn’t afraid when I let you drink from me. Is that normal?”

  “I don’t think so. What are you getting at?”

  “Maybe I’m not normal.”

  “Maybe you’re not.”

  “I was kidding,” she said, suddenly looking worried.

  “I know. But your blood, your nearness, soothes me in ways that nothing else does. There’s got to be a reason for it, although I can’t imagine what it would be.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. Was it that difference
that drew him to her in the first place?

  He opened his preternatural senses when he kissed her again, but he detected nothing except warm, willing woman. A woman who wanted him with every fiber of her body, who wished he would forget his fears and make love to her. Was she right? Was he worrying for nothing? As a vampire, he had never been totally out of control the way he had been as a werewolf.

  Overcome with gratitude, he drew her back into his arms, hugging her tightly. “I love you, Sheree,” he murmured fervently. “I will love you as long as you live.”

  As long as you live. The words, which should have thrilled her, filled her with a vague sense of sadness. He hadn’t said as long as he lived, she noted, which could be hundreds of years or more, but as long as she lived, a much shorter timeline.

  Sheree closed her eyes, refusing to cry. But even as she told herself to be grateful for whatever time Fate allowed her to share with Derek, she heard a quiet voice in the back of her mind.

  Derek’s voice whispering, Sheree, my love, only say the word and hundreds of years can be yours, too.

  “They’re gone!” Pearl exclaimed, staring up at the castle. “I can’t believe they would go without telling us.”

  Edna stared at her friend. “Are you serious? I think we’re lucky to still be breathing! I don’t know about you, but I’ll be perfectly happy to get back to Texas and never see Mara or any of her family again!”

  But Pearl wasn’t listening. “She needs us. We have the formula. I’ve half a mind not to make the damn stuff!”

  “Oh, there’s a good idea,” Edna said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just piss her off some more, why don’t you?”

  “Let’s go pack,” Pearl muttered. “There’s no point in staying here any longer.”

  Edna nodded as she grabbed her favorite bright yellow jacket and orange scarf. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  When Sheree woke, it was almost three in the afternoon. Stretching her arms over her head, she wondered if her internal clock would ever get back to rights. Trying to stay up late to be with Derek had been one thing, going to Transylvania quite another. The change in time had really messed her up, until she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to sleep when the sun was up or down.