He drew her closer, inhaling the fragrance of her hair and skin, the faint coppery scent of the warm red tide that flowed silently through her veins. “I imagine vampires are like people in most ways. Some good, some bad. Some brave, some not. Some happy with their nocturnal lifestyle, some wishing for relief.”
“Hmm. I never thought of that.”
His knuckles stroked the side of her neck. “You’ve obviously never considered the danger, either.”
She shivered at his touch. “What do you mean?”
“Vampires are born predators.”
“Even the good ones?”
“Even the good ones.”
“But you don’t believe they really exist, do you?”
He was about to say he knew they did when a familiar scent wafted through the air. Looking toward the entrance, he swore under his breath, then led Sheree back to their table.
“Is something wrong?” Sheree asked, sliding into the booth.
“Oh, yeah,” Derek said, still standing. “My sister is here.” The lie rolled easily off his lips. After all, he couldn’t very well introduce Mara as his mother, not when she looked younger than he did.
Sheree glanced past Derek to see a slender woman gliding toward them. “She’s lovely,” Sheree murmured, although lovely didn’t really do the young woman justice. Her skin was smooth and clear, her figure slim and perfect. Hair as black as ebony fell down to her hips.
The woman smiled as she approached. “Derek, how nice to see you.”
“Sister, dear.” He didn’t ask what she was doing there, but the question was implied in the tone of his voice.
“You must be Sheree. I’m Mara.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. Won’t you join us?”
“No, thank you.” Mara laughed softly. “I just stopped by for a drink.”
“Do you come here often?” Sheree asked.
“Now and then, when I’m thirsty. I don’t want to intrude on your evening, but it was lovely meeting you, Sheree.”
Rising on her tiptoes, Mara kissed Derek on the cheek, then melted into the crowd.
“You two seem very close,” Sheree remarked. “I always wanted a sister, or an older brother.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Derek slid into the booth, his gaze following his mother’s progress toward the bar. What the hell was she doing here? As if he didn’t know. “Do you want another drink?”
“I don’t think so.” Sheree frowned. “Mara. That name sounds familiar somehow.”
“Does it?”
She leaned forward, one elbow propped on the table, her chin resting on her hand. “I overheard a couple of men mention it one night. But they were talking about vampires, so I’m sure it was another Mara.”
“Of course. What were they saying about her?”
“Something about her being the oldest, most powerful vampire in existence.” Sitting back, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “They claimed she knew Cleopatra.”
It was nearing one A.M. when Derek walked Sheree to her car. After kissing her good night, he returned to the Den and ordered a real vampire martini: a glass of red wine laced with blood. Sipping it slowly, he thought about what she had said. People—other vampires? hunters?—were talking about Mara. He had to wonder who they were and what, exactly, they had been saying. His mother had kept a pretty low profile for the past twenty-six years. Few outside their family knew she had somehow evolved from vampire to human, a mystery no one could explain, or that she had willingly given up her humanity because of him.
At Mara’s urging, his stepfather had bestowed the Dark Gift upon her. Her preternatural powers had returned stronger than ever, perhaps because Blackwood’s blood was Mara’s blood. She had always been a force to be reckoned with, but never more so than now. If those talking about her were humans hoping to do her harm, they were in for a hell of a surprise, one that was likely to be their last.
Like the rest of his family, Derek was in awe of his mother. Although she looked younger than he did, she had been born in Egypt in the time of the pharaohs.