Night's Promise

by Amanda Ashley

  “Great,” Derek muttered. “I’ll fit right in.”

  “I’ll go tomorrow morning and prepare our rooms,” Mara decided. “You and Logan follow me as soon as the sun sets tomorrow night.”

  Derek nodded. What would he be when he saw Sheree again? Vampire or werewolf?

  Or both?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sheree spent a restless night. It took her hours to get to sleep, and when she did, her dreams were filled with frightful images of werewolves and vampires ripping each other to shreds or attacking everything in sight, including her.

  The sound of someone knocking on the door woke her just after seven A.M. After slipping into her robe, Sheree hurried downstairs. She wished fleetingly that it was Derek, but, of course, at this time of the morning, it wasn’t likely.

  Wondering who would come calling at this hour, she unlocked the door but left the security chain in place. “Mara!”

  “Have I come too early?”

  “Oh, no, not at all,” she said, removing the security chain. “Please, come in.”

  Mara swept into the room like a queen granting favors.

  “Is something wrong? Is Derek all right?”

  “Everything’s fine. I was wondering if you’d like to take a trip with me.”

  “A trip?” Sheree toyed with the collar of her robe. “Where are you going?”

  “Romania.”

  Just the word conjured images of ancient castles and brooding vampires.

  “You’ll love it. It’s a beautiful place.”

  “I . . .” Sheree blinked. Romania! “I don’t know.”

  Mara’s gaze met hers. “Please say you’ll come.”

  Remembering Derek’s warning not to stare into a vampire’s eyes, Sheree quickly looked away. “Will Derek be there?”

  “Of course. He’s the reason we’re going. You’ve nothing to fear,” Mara assured her. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

  “My passport’s in Philadelphia.”

  Mara laughed softly. “You won’t need it.”

  An hour later, Sheree had showered, dressed, and packed a bag. Her wooden stake was at the bottom, under her nightgown.

  “Are you ready?” Mara asked, her tone impatient.

  Sheree glanced around, making sure everything was closed and locked. “Yes, I guess so.”

  “Then take my hand and we’ll be off.”

  “Why?” Sheree asked, suddenly reluctant to touch the vampire.

  Mara caught Sheree’s hand in hers. “Because we’re traveling by Air Vampire.”

  Before Sheree could ask what that meant, she felt herself being lifted from the ground. She closed her eyes as a strange buzzing filled her ears, along with the sense of traveling through space at inhuman speed. Nausea roiled in the pit of her stomach.

  Just when she thought she might pass out, the world righted itself. Opening her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of a large room.

  Mara smiled at her. “Welcome to Transylvania. Feel free to look around while I prepare our rooms. Here, let me take your bag. You’ll be in the first room on the left at the top of the stairs.”

  Feeling disoriented and a little dizzy, Sheree handed over her suitcase; then, standing in the middle of the great hall, she did a slow turn. The walls were made of gray stone. The leaded windows, set high, were mere slits. She was surprised to see that it was dark outside and wondered briefly what the time difference was between California and Romania.

  A fireplace that would comfortably hold a horse and rider took up most of one wall. The mantel was so high, she couldn’t reach it. A number of medieval weapons hung above the fireplace. The furniture, scattered in groups around the room, was made of dark, heavy wood; the chairs and sofas were covered in dark red damask. A suit of armor stood in one corner. Large rugs covered the floor; tapestries hung from the walls.

  Several doors led to other rooms. Some were vacant; one was a kitchen outfitted with another large fireplace, probably used for cooking in times past. A high wooden table stood in the middle of the floor. Judging by the stains on it, she guessed it had been used for cutting and chopping rather than dining. A rack near the fireplace held a variety of odd-looking utensils and several large iron pots.

  A narrow, winding staircase led to the upper floors.

  She was debating whether to go up or not when Mara descended the stairs.

  “The beds are made,” she said, brushing her hands on her skirt. “Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, a little.”

  “There’s a village at the foot of the mountain. We can get you something to eat there. Logan will stop for provisions before he leaves home.”

  “When will Derek get here?”

  “It will be a few hours yet,” Mara said, reaching for her hand. “Ready?”

  The village looked like something out of the distant past. It was quaint and charming, as was the restaurant Mara chose. Sheree ordered ham and eggs; Mara asked for a glass of wine.

  “Do they know . . .” Lowering her voice, Sheree glanced around. “Do they know what you are?”

  “Their ancestors knew. I have not been here in over a century. If the villagers learn the castle is occupied, they may suspect, but they will do nothing.”

  Feeling uncomfortable, Sheree ate quickly.

  When they returned to the castle, Mara told Sheree she was going out for a while and to make herself at home. And then the vampire vanished from the room.

  Sheree stared at the place where Mara had been only moments before. What would it be like to be able to just wave your hand and disappear? To cross hundreds of miles like magic? To live forever? While she pondered that, she felt her eyes widen with the realization that Mara had probably gone hunting.

  What kind of prey did she prefer? Human? Or animal?

  Did she kill when she fed?

  Feeling suddenly sick to her stomach, Sheree made her way cautiously up the narrow stone stairs to her room. Inside, she closed the door, then rested her back against it while she surveyed her surroundings.

  The room, large and square, was dominated by a bed with red velvet hangings. A rosewood wardrobe—another antique—stood against one wall. A matching four-drawer chest flanked the bed. Sheree shook her head, thinking the castle held a small fortune in antiques.

  After leaving the bedchamber, Sheree explored the rest of the second floor in hopes of finding a bathroom. She found five other bedrooms and a storage closet, but no lavatory.

  When she returned to her own room, she spied a chamber pot under the bed. Had she not seen one in an antique store, she would never have known what it was.

  Lack of sleep the night before, combined with Mara’s mode of transportation, had left Sheree feeling sleepy and disoriented—rather like a princess who had been taken from her own world and dropped into an unknown realm. Stretching out on the bed, she closed her eyes and hoped her own Prince Charming would arrive soon.

  Derek glared at his mother. “Why in the hell did you bring Sheree here?” He had detected her unique scent the minute he set foot in the castle. “You know it’s dangerous for her to be near me right now. Putting some distance between us is one of the reasons I agreed to come here in the first place.”

  “You told me yourself that she calms you, and that a few sips of her blood satisfies your thirst. I’m thinking a bit of her blood the night before the full moon will ease whatever transition takes place.”

  Derek paced in front of the hearth. Maybe his mother was right. But what if she was wrong?

  Logan cleared his throat, then pointed at the ice chests at his feet. “Where do you want this stuff?”

  “In the kitchen,” Mara said, smiling. “Humans are a lot of trouble, aren’t they?”

  Logan snorted. “At least she’s not pregnant!”

  Mara sent him a look that could curdle milk. “Very funny.”

  “I thought so.” Lifting a chest in each hand, he headed for the kitchen.


  Frowning, Derek stared after Logan, his mind suddenly filling with images of Sheree holding his child. It was impossible, of course, something he had never contemplated. But for the first time in his existence, he regretted the fact that he would never sire a child.

  “Now might be a good time for you to go out and get the lay of the land,” Mara suggested. “Mark your territory, so to speak.”

  Nodding, Derek left the house.

  The castle stood atop a mountain above the tree line. Standing in the lee of the building, he swept his gaze over the land below. It took only minutes to locate and identify every living creature within miles: wolves, foxes, wild boar, deer. Farther down the mountain, near the village, he identified sheep, goats, cows, and horses.

  Flexing his muscles, he began to run along an old deer trail lined with trees and shrubs. Now and then, he heard a rustle in the underbrush as animals scurried out of his path. And suddenly he was in predator mode, his nostrils sifting through the myriad scents in the night for prey, human or otherwise.

  When a wild boar broke from cover, Derek let out a shout and gave chase. Moments later, his thirst satisfied, Derek jogged back up the mountain.

  He made it inside just as the sun broke through the clouds.

  His last thought before he tumbled into oblivion was that he would see Sheree when he woke.

  Sheree woke with a start. Jackknifing into a sitting position, she glanced around the room, momentarily disoriented. Where was she? Grabbing her robe, she hurried toward the door, then blew out a sigh as memory returned. She was in a castle in Transylvania.

  Mara’s castle.

  Sheree moved into the hallway, then paused. The house was deathly quiet, she thought, and grinned. Of course it was. She was the only living creature in the place.

  She glanced up and down the narrow corridor. Did the vampires trust her enough to take their rest behind those closed doors? Or were they tucked in their coffins down in the dungeon?

  The thought made her laugh. She doubted if she could destroy Mara even if she wanted to.

  Belting her robe around her waist, she started down the stairs, wondering if Derek had arrived. And even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew he was there, sleeping in one of the rooms above.

  Turning on her heels, she ran up the staircase, some inner GPS guiding her down the hallway to the last room on the left. She paused, one hand on the door. Was it locked? But no, it swung open at her touch and she tiptoed inside.

  Heavy draperies shut out the morning light. Derek slept on his back, one arm above his head, the other across his waist. His hair was like a splash of black ink across the white pillowcase. A sheet covered him from the waist down.

  He was amazingly gorgeous in repose.

  Would he wake if she stretched out beside him? Would he be glad to see her, or angry that she had invaded his privacy while he slept?

  “I’ll be angry if you go away,” he murmured, his voice whiskey smooth.

  “Oh! You’re awake!”

  He held out his hand, gesturing for her to join him. She did so gladly, felt a sense of homecoming as his arm curled around her waist.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t mind.” His hand caressed her back, slid around to the curve of her breast. Unable to resist, he kissed her cheek, the smooth skin of her neck. “Sheree . . . ?”

  She tilted her head back, offering him access to her throat, closed her eyes when he turned onto his side, aligning his body with hers. She felt the gentle pressure of his fangs, sighed with pleasure as he drank from her.

  Caught up in the sheer pleasure of his touch, she let her hands drift restlessly along his back and shoulders, tangle in his hair to hold him close. She pressed against him, hating the clothing between them, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

  Like magic, her robe and nightgown vanished.

  Derek chuckled when she gasped in surprise. “Be careful what you wish for,” he murmured, nuzzling her breast.

  He kissed her then, a long searing kiss that left no doubt as to what he wanted. His lips moved over hers, coaxing, demanding, as his hands played over her body, learning every hollow, every curve, until she writhed beneath him, desperate with longing, and yet afraid to surrender to him completely.

  Drawing back a little, he gazed into her eyes. “You’ve never been with a man?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed to admit she was still a virgin. She had made out with boyfriends in the past, but something had always kept her from going all the way.

  He cursed softly, then buried his face in the warm hollow between her neck and her shoulder.

  Sheree went still. “Derek?”

  “It’s all right, love.” Lifting his head, he ran his knuckles across her cheek. “It’s probably best that we wait.”

  “But . . . I don’t want to wait.”

  He lifted one brow. “That’s not the message you were sending.”

  “Just because I’m afraid doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “Well, I’ve never done it before and . . . and you’re a vampire and I don’t know if vampires make love like everyone else . . . and . . .” She looked up at him, her gaze searching his as her arms twined around his neck. “I love you.”

  “And I love you. Enough to wait until you’re ready. And FYI, vampires make love like everybody else. Only better.” He laughed softly as her stomach growled. “Maybe we should see about getting you something to eat.”

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “I’m not a horny teenager. I can wait.” He ran his tongue along the curve of her throat. “You fed me. It’s only fair that I feed you.”

  Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he grabbed his pants.

  Feeling suddenly shy, Sheree slipped her nightgown over her head, pulled on her robe, then ran her fingers through her hair.

  “You’re beautiful, love.”

  “So are you. Love.”

  Hand in hand, they made their way down to the kitchen.

  Derek gestured at the ice chests. “We stocked them with everything we could think of that wouldn’t spoil right away.”

  “Thank you.” Lifting the lid of the first one, she found a quart of milk, butter, cheese, a package of roast beef, mayonnaise, and mustard. The second one held paper plates, bowls, cups, glasses, and utensils, as well as a loaf of bread, a box of cereal, packets of sugar and cream, several candy bars, apples, bananas, oranges, peanut butter, jelly, and a package of blueberry muffins. And, thankfully, toilet paper.

  Deciding on a glass of milk and a muffin for breakfast, she carried them into the great hall and sat on one of the sofas.

  “I’ll take you out to dinner later,” Derek promised, sitting beside her.

  “I’d like that. Have you ever been here before?”

  He shook his head. “First time. Mara’s got places all over the world.”

  “Really?”

  “Most vampires who have a few hundred years under their belt keep multiple lairs. They can’t stay in one place too long, you know. People start to wonder why they don’t age, why they don’t have children or visitors. So they keep several places for when it’s time to move on.”

  “Do you have more than one . . . lair?”

  “Not yet. I’m still young. I’ve got a little place in Sacramento. I thought I’d start looking for another one, assuming I’m still a vampire after the full moon.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, then asked casually, “Any place you’d like to live?”

  The question, which implied a lasting relationship, filled her with warmth. “A few years ago, my parents took me to Italy on vacation. I’ve always wanted to go back.”

  She ate the last of the muffin, drained the glass and set it aside.

  When Derek slipped his arm around her shoulders, she snuggled against him. “Do you need to rest?”

  “No, I’m good.”
Which was odd, he mused. He usually wasn’t able to be awake this long during the day. Another perk of Sheree’s blood, he wondered? Or an unexpected side effect of the werewolf gene? There was no way of knowing. But it didn’t matter. He was content to stay where he was, with Sheree beside him.

  Of course, he couldn’t sit there without touching her, kissing her. Before long, they were stretched out on the sofa, arms and legs entwined. Slowly at first, he explored her body, as she explored his, each caress longer, bolder, more intimate than the last.

  And that was how Mara and Logan found them.

  At the sound of amused laughter, Sheree bolted upright, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

  “Ah, young love,” Logan remarked, waggling his eyebrows. “Ain’t it grand?”

  “I doubt if you can remember what it was like, old man.” Derek sat up, his arm wrapping around Sheree in an unmistakably male gesture of protection.

  “Old man!” Logan looked at Mara. “Are you going to let your son talk to me like that?”

  “Do you remember?” Mara asked with a beguiling smile.

  Logan’s eyes turned smoky with desire. “Want me to show you?”

  “Later.” She cuffed him on the arm, then looked at Derek. “How do you feel?”

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  “No cravings?” Mara glanced at Sheree, her brow furrowed.

  “No.” Derek rubbed his jaw, his expression thoughtful, and then, he, too, glanced at Sheree.

  She fidgeted under their combined scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

  “I told you so,” Mara said with a smug grin.

  Sheree looked at Derek. “Told you what? What’s going on?”

  Derek gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Nothing to worry about. Mara brought you here because I told her that being with you calms me. . . .” He hesitated before adding, “And because your blood satisfies my hunger like nothing else.”

  “Why would my blood be different from anyone else’s?” Sheree asked anxiously. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  “Your blood is fine,” Mara assured her. “Some believe that certain bloodlines or types have that effect on certain vampires. It’s very rare that the vampire and the mortal find each other.”