Night's Promise(8)

His mother. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her eyes a deep emerald green, her hair thick and long and as black as night. Not only was she the most beautiful, but she was the most powerful creature in existence. He had grown up on stories of her life—how she had been raised as a slave in the house of Chuma, one of Pharaoh’s trusted advisers, and how, just a month shy of her fifteenth birthday, her master had given her to Shakir, a wealthy ally, as a gift. There had been no male slaves in Shakir’s household, no eunuchs. Mara had skimmed over the years she’d spent in Shakir’s palace, but it had been easy for Derek to imagine what she had suffered there. She had run away so many times that her master had finally locked her in a cell, releasing her only when he desired her to warm his bed.

Had it not been for Dendar, the vampire who had come to her in the dark of night, Mara likely would have perished in that foul prison. Dendar had turned her and deserted her, leaving Mara to discover for herself what she had become and how to survive. Fueled by rage infused with preternatural power, she had avenged herself on the men who had used and abused her, and then destroyed the vampire who had made her.

She had confessed once that she regretted killing her sire. Had I known how wonderful it is to be a vampire, she had said with a sigh, I might have kissed him instead. Knowing his mother would blow off his concern, Derek made a quick call to Logan, advising his stepfather that Sheree had overheard some men talking about Mara.

He might be worrying for nothing, Derek mused when he ended the call, but why take chances?

Chapter Five

Sheree drove home slowly, her thoughts on Derek. And his sister, who was as beautiful as her brother was handsome.

While getting ready for bed, Sheree tried to remember exactly what the men she had heard talking about Mara had said. Of course, it couldn’t be the same Mara, just an odd coincidence.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to have lived since the time of Cleopatra, to have watched the world change so drastically. Every new invention must seem like a miracle to someone born back then.

How did you adjust to such radical changes in your life? But then, modern man had to adjust to changes, too. Horses replaced by cars, candles replaced by gas lights and then electricity. Paperback books going the way of the dinosaur. Landlines being swallowed up by cell phones that grew increasingly more powerful and did practically everything but the laundry. Not that people did much laundry these days, what with disposable clothing and material that shed dirt the way ducks shed water.

She grinned, thinking about the new iPad Z12, and cars that talked to you and were capable of driving themselves if you didn’t want to be bothered holding the wheel, or if you wanted to take a nap during a long journey.

After brushing her teeth, Sheree slipped under the covers and closed her eyes, all thoughts of vampires and technology fading away as Derek’s image rose in her mind and followed her to sleep. . . .

And he was there, so real she knew she couldn’t be dreaming. He whispered her name as he drew her into his arms, his hands sliding up and down her back, his palms skimming the sides of her breasts, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that sent a shaft of heat straight to her core. His tongue tangled with hers in a provocative duel that had her clinging to him as the only solid thing in a world rapidly spinning out of control.

Sheree closed her eyes, gasping with pleasure as he kissed his way to her throat, his tongue like lightning as he laved the tender place beneath her ear. In a distant part of her mind, she realized he was biting her, but it felt so good, she didn’t care. Pleasure spiraled deep within her, spinning outward to every fiber of her being, more sensual and satisfying than anything she had ever imagined.

She smiled when he kissed her good night. At his word, she sank into oblivion.

Sheree was sweet, Derek thought as he drove home from her house. Far sweeter than anyone he had ever known. Or tasted. Slipping inside her mind had been all too easy.

He smiled with the memory, thinking just one taste would never be enough, although he would have to wait a day or two before drinking from her again.

Taking from her too often would leave her weak, listless.

Taking too much could leave her dead.

He had been tempted to seduce her while she was in thrall, but while it might have been physically satisfying, he preferred his partners to be awake and willing.

Pulling into the driveway of his mother’s house, he noted that the lights were on. No doubt she was waiting up for him again. Derek slammed the door as he got out of the car. Dammit, he was twenty-five years old and a vampire. What was she worried about?

As expected, Mara was waiting for him in the living room, a vision in a long white velvet robe, her hair like a black nimbus around her shoulders. His vampire senses told him the rest of the family had gone.

She lifted her head when he entered the room, her nostrils flaring, a knowing look in the depths of her deep green eyes.

Derek dropped onto the sofa across from her, folded his arms across his chest, stretched his legs out in front of him. And waited.

“How was your evening?” she asked.

Derek clenched his hands in an effort to hold on to his temper. “I’ve told you before. I don’t need a keeper.”

She dismissed his objections with an airy wave of her hand. “I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry.”

“What, exactly, are you worrying about?”

“I still have enemies. Not all of them are dead, you know. None of them would hesitate to avenge themselves on me by destroying you.”

He nodded, wondering if two of those enemies had been in the Den tonight, talking about her. “I’m a big boy. I think I can take care of myself.”

“Perhaps.” She rose in a smooth, sinuous motion. “But you can’t blame me for worrying. After all, you are my only son.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “And I’m not likely to have another. Good night.”