“Is that right?” He still wasn’t sure it had been a good idea for Sheree to invite his mother inside; then again, Sheree was probably safer with Mara than with him.
Still holding his hand, Sheree sat on the sofa, tugging him down beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, why?”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
He shook his head. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
“More secrets?”
“Not exactly. I learned something new tonight and I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
Worry furrowed her brow. “Is it something that affects us?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to. So, how did you spend your day?”
She pouted a moment because he wouldn’t confide in her, then blew it off. There was no point in being angry. He had warned her there were things about himself he couldn’t share. “I didn’t really do very much. I called my parents and told them I wouldn’t be coming home right away, after all. My mother got a little upset with me. It seems as soon as I told her I might be coming home, she went into party mode. She seems to think I should be welcomed back as if I’ve been away for years.”
“She probably misses you.”
“Maybe. And then I had a phone call from this guy she’s trying to set me up with. Neil Somerset.” She shook her head. “I could tell my mother put him up to it. Neil and I have nothing to say to each other. It was very awkward.”
A muscle twitched in Derek’s jaw at the mention of another man, even one thousands of miles away.
“Your mother and I spent the rest of the day giving each other manicures,” Sheree went on, “and watching old movies on TV. She’s quite the movie buff.”
“Yeah, well, she’s probably seen them all.”
“I can’t imagine living as long as she has.” Sheree looked at him, her expression thoughtful. “You could live that long, too, couldn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks.” He clenched his hands, fighting the urge to take her in his arms and drink from her.
She must have seen the hunger in his eyes, he thought, because she grew very still. In the sudden silence, the sharp intake of her breath was unusually loud. With his preternatural senses, he heard the sudden pounding of her heart, smelled the fear on her skin.
“I should go,” he said, his voice thick.
“You need to feed, don’t you?”
He didn’t deny it.
“You can . . . I mean, if you need to . . . um . . .” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Just don’t take too much.”
He knew he should refuse, should get the hell out of there before it was too late. But the remembered taste of her, the sweetness of it, lingered in his mind.
He cursed under his breath as he took her in his arms.
“Will it hurt?”
“No, love.” He claimed her lips with his in a long, slow kiss, held her until the tension went out of her and she was kissing him back, her fingers tunneling into his hair, her body yearning toward his. His hands moved over her, lightly, gently, learning every curve.
He kissed his way along the length of her neck until he found the soft vulnerable place just beneath her ear. His tongue laved the skin, and then, keeping a tight hold on his control, he bit her. She pressed herself closer as sensual warmth spread through her.
It took all of his self-control to hold back, to keep from savaging her throat and taking it all. But then a strange thing happened. One taste, two, and his hunger receded.
She moaned a soft protest when he lifted his head.
He gazed down at her, amazed that his voracious thirst had been satisfied with so little.
Sheree looked up at him, her gaze slightly unfocused. “Are you finished already?”
“Are you sorry?”
She nodded, a faint flush staining her cheeks. “It was—I don’t know—amazing.”
His life had been full of surprises, Derek thought, giving her a hug. But Sheree was the best one of all.
Chapter Twenty
Pearl filled two water glasses to the brim with red wine, handed one to Edna, then collapsed in a chair, heedless of the liquid that splashed into her lap. “I thought we were dead for sure!”
“Me, too!” Edna took a long swallow, then shook her head. “This isn’t going to cut it. I need something warm to drink.”
“In a minute, dear. Let me catch my breath.” Pearl drained her glass, though it wasn’t easy, her hands were shaking so. “Why didn’t she kill us?”
“She must have decided we could be of use later. After all, no one knows more about werewolves than we do.”
“That’s true.” Rising, Pearl refilled her glass. She and Edna had conducted numerous tests on the creatures in the past. “Who do you think the hunters in town are after? Mara? Or Derek?”
“I don’t know. Two hunters have disappeared. One was reported dead. One seems to have lost her memory.”
“If we’re not careful, we could be next,” Pearl said, resuming her seat.
“Funny, all those hunters showing up here at the same time.”
“Almost as if someone’s put out a hit,” Pearl remarked, then frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense, dear. Hunting vampires is what hunters do. It’s in their blood.”
“True,” Edna said, “but maybe one of Mara’s old enemies wants her dead and doesn’t have the cojones to do the job himself.”
“It’s a possibility,” Pearl agreed.
“If they’re afraid to go after Mara, killing Derek would be the best revenge they could take. If anything happened to him, she would never get over it.”
Pearl nodded, and then sighed. “Remember when we were hunters?”
“Yes, indeed,” Edna said, grinning. “And we’re still hunters.”
“Yes, dear. Only the prey has changed.”
Setting her glass on the table beside her chair, Edna stood. “Speaking of change, it’s time to get out of these dreary outfits and into something a little more comfortable.”
“Like a nice warm neck or two?” Pearl remarked.
“Girlfriend, you must be reading my mind.”
Derek waited until Sheree was asleep before slipping outside to where Mara waited.
“What’s up?” He glanced up and down the street, but all was quiet, the houses dark. A faint breeze carried the scent of skunk. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, a steady yapping that spoke of boredom.