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“Sit down while I pour you a drink,” her father said. “You look like you could use one.”
Sheree glanced around the room, trying to imagine Derek in her mother’s immaculate parlor, with its pristine white carpets, taupe walls, and Louis XV furniture. There wasn’t a spot of dust to be found. Fresh flowers graced the tables. A trio of magazines was set, just so, on the ornate coffee table in front of the high-backed sofa. The drapes were tightly closed against the afternoon sun.
“Here you go, ducky.” Handing her a glass of chardonnay, her father joined her on the sofa. “Now, tell me all about it.”
Sheree told him what she could, how she had met Derek in a nightclub and quickly fallen in love with him, how he had secrets he couldn’t share, and that his life might be in danger.
Brian Westerbrooke listened attentively, nodding now and then.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Sheree said, “so I came home.”
“Well, that was exactly the right thing to do,” Brian said. “We’re expected at the Somersets’ tonight to celebrate Neil’s promotion. I think a party and several glasses of champagne are just what you need to take your mind off your troubles.”
Sheree groaned softly as she imagined spending the evening with Neil at the Somersets’. No doubt the Uptons would also be there.
Why had she ever thought coming home would be a good idea?
The Somersets’ house was ablaze with lights when Sheree and her parents arrived. Her mother looked elegant in a gown by Dior, her father as handsome as always in Armani. Sheree had chosen a black, off-the-shoulder frock because the color reminded her of Derek and suited her mood at the same time.
She smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Somerset, tried not to grimace when Neil bowed over her hand and kissed it.
“How lovely you look,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Murmuring, “Thank you,” she tried to free her hand from his, but he seemed determined to hold it. And then she saw Ralph striding toward them, and she knew why Neil wouldn’t let go.
“Sheree!” Ralph gushed. Ignoring Neil, Ralph kissed her on both cheeks. “You look good enough to eat!”
Ralph rescued her hand from Neil’s. “The orchestra is tuning up. I believe the first dance should be mine.”
“And all the rest are mine,” Neil said, smirking.
Resigned, Sheree followed Ralph into the ballroom. Holding her too close, he said, “I knew you’d come back.”
“Did you?”
“How could you stay away, babe?” he said with an arrogant smile. “I knew there was something between us when we danced together at Leonardo’s wedding.”
All too soon, Neil came to claim her. Holding her even closer than her previous partner, he spent the entire time bragging about his promotion, hinting that all he needed was a good woman, like her, to make his life complete.
As soon as the song ended, Ralph claimed her again.
By the end of the evening, Sheree felt like a piece of taffy, having been constantly pulled back and forth.
Glad that the evening at the Somersets’ was over, Sheree kicked off her heels, hung up her dress, and fell back on her bed. Her feet were killing her.
Lying there, staring up at the ceiling of her old room, she fervently wished she had stayed in California. By night’s end, she had danced with every eligible man at the party, and foolishly compared them all to Derek, which explained why none of them had appealed to her. None of the men she knew measured up to her vampire. Her vampire, she thought, and wondered if she would ever see him again.
Slamming her fist against the mattress, Sheree chided herself for being such a coward. Vampire or werewolf, what difference did it make? She loved the man inside. And yet . . . how many times had Derek warned her that she would always be prey? Maybe it was time to pay attention. Then again, which would be worse, risking her life to be with the man she loved, or spending the rest of her life without him?
There was really no choice.
Her anger faded as she pictured him in her mind—tall, broad shouldered, as handsome as the devil, as sexy as sin.
Still, she thought, it might be wise to wait until after the full moon before returning to California. And, in the meantime, she could get her parents used to the idea that she intended to marry a California boy.
Assuming he would have her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“McDonald is here!” Pearl couldn’t keep a tremor of fear out of her voice.
“Lou McDonald?” Edna glanced around Drac’s Dive. The dance floor was crowded; the bar was packed with couples, and with singles hoping to score. “Where? I don’t see her.”
“There, at the far end of the bar. The woman in the long black coat.”
Edna sent a nonchalant glance over her shoulder. Lou McDonald didn’t look very intimidating. She was no more than five feet tall, with light blond hair and skin almost as pale as that of the vampires she hunted. But her eyes, ah, there was death in her cold blue eyes.
“We should leave,” Pearl said. “She’s not looking this way. If we hurry, we can sneak out before she sees us.”
Grabbing Edna’s hand, Pearl edged toward the door. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped outside, with Edna close on her heels, only to come to an abrupt halt when a woman stepped in front of them. Pearl had never seen her before, but she recognized the stink of a hunter.
Before she could dissolve into mist, the hunter slapped a handcuff around Pearl’s wrist. The silver sizzled against her skin.
Before Edna could react, Lou McDonald had come up behind her with a pair of handcuffs, which she quickly locked in place. With an evil grin, the hunter jabbed Edna in the arm with a needle.
Edna exclaimed, “Oh, shit, we’re dead!” as McDonald’s accomplice jabbed Pearl’s arm.
Feeling suddenly light-headed, Pearl watched Edna collapse on the sidewalk moments before everything went black.
Pearl woke abruptly, instantly aware that thick silver chains bound her to a chair. Wide eyed, she glanced around. A small gray room. No windows. A single door.
There was no sign of Edna.
Lou McDonald stood before her wielding a slender, long-bladed dagger. “I want answers,” McDonald said. “And I want them now.”
“Where’s Edna?”
“I’m asking the questions here. I want to know Mara’s whereabouts.”
“Mara?”
“Answer me!”
Pearl hissed as the silver blade opened a thin gash in her left arm. Blood flowed in the wake of the blade.
