Night's Promise

by Amanda Ashley

  Moments later, he materialized inside the house in the Hollywood Hills. His mother was waiting for him in the living room.

  “Where’s Sheree?” Derek dropped her purse on a small table.

  “In one of the bedrooms upstairs. She’s resting comfortably. Go in the kitchen and sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Lacking the strength to argue, Derek did as he was told. He clenched his hands against pain that grew worse with every breath as he climbed onto a high stool. Tugging the bloody cloth from inside his shirt, he tossed it into the sink. The one around his leg quickly followed.

  “Do you think it was a good idea bringing Sheree here?” he asked when his mother stepped into the kitchen.

  “We’ll worry about that later,” she said, dropping a towel on his lap. “Right now, I need to get those bullets out of your stubborn hide before you bleed to death.”

  “Yeah.” Taking shallow breaths, he watched her fill a large aluminum pan with warm water, then deposit rolls of gauze and tape on the table, along with a pair of scissors and a probe that looked all too familiar.

  “This is getting to be a habit,” Mara said, easing him out of his blood-soaked shirt.

  “Yeah.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “A bad one.”

  She tossed the bloody garment in the sink. “What happened this time?”

  “Aurland and another hunter broke into Sheree’s house while I was inside. They ambushed me.”

  “What? You couldn’t take down two hunters before they shot you?”

  “They’re both dead, aren’t they?”

  “You’re supposed to kill them before they shoot you.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied his wounds. “Hold still now.”

  He sucked in a breath as she probed the wound in his shoulder, let it out in a hiss when she withdrew a misshapen silver slug and tossed it into the sink. After cutting off a length of gauze, she folded it into a square, and taped it over the wound.

  Mara looked up when Logan entered the room. “Is everything taken care of?”

  “Not to worry, my sweet. They’ll never be found.” He jerked his head at Derek. “Stings like hell, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he rasped, flinching.

  “I said hold still,” Mara admonished as she slid the probe into the ragged hole in her son’s chest.

  “This girl seems like a lot of trouble,” Logan remarked.

  “Tell me about it. Dammit, woman,” Derek hissed, “be careful!”

  “Got it!” She tossed the second slug into the sink, and after wiping the blood from Derek’s chest, she wrapped several layers of gauze around his torso, then tied off the ends. “Two down, one to go,” she said cheerfully. “Take off your pants.”

  Propping one shoulder against the doorjamb, Logan admired the sight of his wife lounging in a tub filled with frothy, scented bubbles. “So, what now?”

  “You could wash my back.” She lifted one slender leg and rested it on the edge of the tub. “Or massage my foot.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “A massage still sounds like a good idea.”

  Logan pushed away from the door, then knelt beside the tub and began to rub her foot. She had pretty feet, small, well formed. But then, she was pretty all over, and no one knew it better than he did.

  She closed her eyes, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips.

  His hand moved up her calf, his fingers gliding over her silky skin. “What are you going to do about the girl?”

  “Wipe the incident from her mind and let her go.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “What do you want to do? Make her disappear?”

  “There’s something going on.” Logan’s hand tightened on her thigh. “I don’t like it that four hunters showed up here in the last week.”

  “So, what should we do? Run away and hide?”

  He released his hold on her leg and stood up. “You know me better than that.”

  “What do you want, then?”

  Heat flared in his eyes, the hunters forgotten as the scent of her desire reached him. “Don’t you know?” he growled.

  She smiled as he stripped off his shirt, stepped out of his trousers and briefs, and slipped into the tub behind her. She leaned back as his arms went around her waist, his big hands caressing her. Thoughts of hunters fled her mind when he rose in one fluid motion, water splashing over the edge of the tub as he carried her, soaking wet, into the bedroom.

  Lowering her onto the mattress, he covered her body with his.

  “I know,” she said, her voice a low purr. “I’ve always known.”

  Derek’s nostrils flared as the scent of musk filled the air. Sitting on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom down the hall from his mother’s, he ran his knuckles lightly over Sheree’s cheek, wondering if he would ever find the kind of love his parents shared. What would Sheree’s reaction be if he told her the truth? What would his reaction be if she looked at him with revulsion? Was she strong enough, brave enough, to share her life with him? It was, he admitted, a moot point at the moment. He knew his mother intended to wipe the night’s events from Sheree’s mind, wondered if the smart thing would be to wipe his memory from her mind, as well.

  And even as he considered it, he rejected the idea. He’d told Sheree the truth when he said he needed her. He didn’t understand why he felt such a strong connection with her. Truth be told, he no longer cared. But one thing he knew for certain. He would never willingly let her go again.

  She was dreaming, but her dreams were like none she’d ever had before. She heard voices—familiar voices—coming from far away. She was aware of fingers caressing her, of someone sitting beside her. She tried to wake up, wanted to wake up, and couldn’t.

  Filled with a sudden, inexplicable panic, she tried to scream, hoping the sound would wake her, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She was aware of sunlight falling across her face. Knew that it was day, knew, somehow, that she had been asleep for hours, and yet she still couldn’t move. Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy.

  The light faded, leaving her in darkness.

  She would have wept, had she been able.

  This was death, she thought, and surrendered to the darkness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “All right,” Mara said, glancing from Logan to Derek. “We need to get our story straight before we wake her up.”

  “I already told her some men broke into her house and I scared them away, and then I brought her here because she was afraid to stay home alone.”

  “Why didn’t you just erase the whole thing from her mind?” Mara asked. “That would have been infinitely easier.”

  “I didn’t want to leave her unprotected. Besides, I wasn’t sure the suggestion I planted was strong enough.”

  “And how are you going to explain the day she lost?” Logan asked.

  Mara shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to plant some memories. I’ll tell her we all went to lunch at Spago and then we came back here and spent the day by the pool. When she wakes up, she’ll ask to go home, and Derek can take her. Agreed?”

  “Sounds all right to me,” Derek said.

  “Or you could just take her home and erase the last two days,” Logan suggested.

  “We could,” Mara agreed. “But, like Derek, I’d like to keep an eye on her, just in case she remembers something she shouldn’t.”

  Logan frowned at his wife. What wasn’t she telling them?

  “All right,” Mara said. “I’m going to wake her up.”

  Feeling as though she had missed something, Sheree glanced around, momentarily confused by her surroundings. The room was large, with plush white carpeting and dark red velvet draperies. A pair of black sofas faced each other across a rosewood coffee table. In one corner, a round black table polished to a high shine sat between a pair of overstuffed red velvet chairs. Several expensive-looking paintings of landscapes decorated the walls. A sword in a silver she
ath hung over the mantel.

  She looked at Derek, sitting on the sofa beside her. Mara sat on the sofa across from them, holding hands with a handsome man. Was it her husband? Had they been introduced? If so, Sheree couldn’t remember his name.

  “Are you sure you have to leave?” Mara asked, leaning forward. “We’ve loved having you here.”

  “Thank you,” Sheree said, rising, “but I think I should get home.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Derek said.

  “I do hope you’ll come visit us again,” Mara said.

  Sheree nodded.

  “Are you ready?” Derek asked, taking her by the hand. “Your bag’s in the car.”

  “My bag. Yes.” She smiled faintly. “Thank you for having me.”

  Derek slid a glance at Sheree as he drove down the winding road that led to the freeway. Sheree stared out the window, her purse in her lap, a slight frown puckering her brow.

  “Did you have a good time today?” he asked.

  “What? Oh, yes. Your sister and her husband are very nice. I’m afraid I don’t remember his name.”

  “Logan.”

  “Yes. Logan. They seem very happy together.”

  Derek nodded. He didn’t know any mortal couples, but the couples in his family were all very much in love. Whether it was just another perk of being a vampire or the men all had a knack for picking the right women to spend their lives with, he couldn’t say. “Are your parents happy?”

  “Not like your sister and her husband seem to be. Oh, don’t get me wrong. My folks don’t fight or anything, but, well . . .” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Maybe all couples get that way after they’ve been married a long time. I suppose eventually you run out of things to say to each other.”

  He shrugged. Mara and Logan had known each other for centuries, but they hadn’t run out of conversation yet.

  “Are you an only child?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled off the freeway, stopped at a red light. It would have been nice to have had a brother. He had always envied Rane and Rafe their closeness. “You?”

  “Yes. My mother had several miscarriages before I came along. She didn’t want to try again.”

  When they reached her house, Derek killed the engine, then draped his arm over the back of her seat. “Here we are.”

  “Thank you for bringing me home. I don’t remember . . . did I thank you for scaring away the bad guys?”

  “No thanks necessary.” She didn’t know it, he thought, stifling a grin, but the bad guy she needed to worry about was sitting across from her.

  Sheree put her hand on the door, glanced at her house, and let her hand fall back into her lap. “Would you mind walking me in?”

  “Of course not.” As he got out of the car, he grabbed her bag from the backseat, then opened her door and reached for her hand. It was trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as they walked up the porch steps. “I thought I was braver than this.”

  “Hey, we’re all afraid from time to time.”

  “Really?” She pulled her keys from her handbag and unlocked the door, then glanced over her shoulder, one brow arched. “What are you afraid of?”

  Reaching around her, he pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold, tugging her inside behind him. “There’s nobody here.”

  She turned on the lights in the living room. “How can you be so sure?”

  “The house feels empty.”

  She wasn’t a scaredy-cat, but there was something niggling at the back of her mind. Something besides the robbery that had happened last night, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It left her feeling unsettled. Why couldn’t she remember?

  “Sheree, are you all right?”

  “Not really.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Would you . . . never mind.”

  “Do you want me to stay the night?” he asked quietly.

  She stared up at him. Was she that transparent?

  “I will if you want me to.”

  “I’m just being silly. I’m sure those robbers won’t come back again, but . . .”

  Derek dropped her bag on the floor, then closed the door. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Sheree glanced at her watch. It wasn’t late but she was suddenly very tired. “I think I’ll go up to bed.”

  Derek nodded. “Get some rest. Things will look better tomorrow.”

  Impulsively, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

  He watched her pick up her bag and climb the stairs to her bedroom. She was going to remember, he mused. She was going to poke and prod the depths of her memory until she uncovered the truth of what had happened last night. And then all hell was going to break loose.

  He chuckled softly as he heeled off his boots and stretched out on the sofa. He didn’t know how she would react when she learned the truth, but it was sure to be a hell of a ride.

  In her room, Sheree locked the door. She wanted to rest in a tub of warm bubbles, but she felt funny taking a bath with a man in the house. She took a quick shower instead, slipped into a pair of comfy sweats—no cute PJs tonight—and climbed into bed.

  It was too early to go to sleep, so she picked up the book on the nightstand and began to read, but she couldn’t concentrate on the story. What was she forgetting? And why couldn’t she remember?

  Setting the book aside, she thought about the events of the last few days. First, Derek had rescued her from the two men who had accosted her at the Den. Except in movies, she had never seen anyone move as fast as he had. He had claimed he didn’t know who the men were, and she certainly had no idea.

  Sheree had no recollection of what had happened at her house last night, except for what Derek had told her: two men had broken into her home and Derek had chased them away. She frowned. She didn’t remember Derek coming to see her, didn’t really remember anyone breaking in. Had it been such a traumatic event that she had blocked it out? It was possible, but . . . she frowned as the image of a dead man flashed before her eyes, and with it, the remembered scent of blood and death. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

  Feeling a headache coming on, she turned off the lamp, and scooted under the covers. The darkness closed in on her and it took all the courage she possessed to keep from reaching for the light. Lying there, she took slow, deep breaths. There was nothing to be afraid of. Regardless of what the newspaper said, there were no vampires. Everything that had happened in the last three days could be explained rationally . . . if only she could remember.

  The bath was warm, soothing, carrying her away, until she heard a sound from downstairs. She got out of the tub, pulled on her robe, and tiptoed down the stairs. Derek was on the front porch, beckoning her. A man stepped out of the kitchen, another from the hall closet . . . shouts, shots, the sound of her own screams, the smell of gunpowder and blood. Derek’s voice, low and soothing, his dark gaze capturing hers . . . telling her lies . . . the sound of a woman’s voice, telling her to go to sleep . . .

  Mara’s voice.

  Sheree bolted upright. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she pulled on her robe and went downstairs, determined to learn the truth once and for all.

  Derek shoved his hands into his pockets when the living room light switched on. Sheree stood in the doorway, her face pale, her arms folded across her chest.

  “The truth,” she said tremulously. “I want the truth.”

  “There are all kinds of truth,” he replied easily. “What truth are you looking for?”

  “I want to know why those men were looking for you at the Den. And who broke into my house. And how you happened to be there. And how I got to your sister’s house, and . . .”

  He held up a hand, staying her words. “I get the message. I don’t know the men who were looking for me.” That much was true. He hadn’t known them, but he had known what they were. “I w
as here last night because I was worried about you. It was mere coincidence that I arrived shortly after the intruders did.”

  She nodded. “Two men broke into my house. You killed them. I remember there were gunshots and . . . and blood. Your blood.” Her eyes grew wide. “You were shot!” Her gaze flew to his shoulder. “There. And . . . and there.” She pointed at his chest.

  “Do I look like I’ve been shot?”

  “No.” She frowned. If he had been shot in the chest, he would be in the hospital. At the least, there would be bandages.

  Doubts assailed her. Had she dreamt the whole thing? “Yesterday, I was at your sister’s house. Why are my memories so cloudy?”

  He shrugged. “Probably caused by the stress of the last couple of days, I would think.” Rising, he walked slowly toward her, half expecting her to back away. When she didn’t, he drew her into his arms.

  She stood there, stiff as a board for several moments, and then, gradually, she relaxed against him, her cheek resting on his chest. “I’m so confused. I think I must be losing my mind.” She looked up at him, her expression one of bewilderment and fear. “Do you think I’m going crazy?”

  Derek stroked her hair, afraid he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. But he couldn’t stand to see the panicky look in her eyes, hear the ill-disguised alarm in her voice.

  “No, love,” he murmured, hoping his mother would forgive him. “You’re not going crazy. The truth is, you’ve found exactly what you were looking for.”

  Exactly what you were looking for. The softly spoken words sent a shiver down Sheree’s spine. “What do you mean?”

  Derek took a deep breath, well aware that he was breaking the code of his kind. “You wanted to find a vampire,” he said quietly. “You found one.”

  She blinked at him. Was he kidding? He wasn’t smiling or grinning. He looked dead serious. She felt all the blood drain from her face. The arms that had felt so strong and comforting only moments ago suddenly felt confining.