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Muttering, “Stop it,” she poured herself a glass of orange juice. She wasn’t afraid of Derek or his family, so why was she entertaining such morbid thoughts? Maybe, deep down, she was more afraid than she wanted to admit. Well, who could blame her? Mara was the oldest vampire on the planet. As Derek had said, none of the rules applied to her, although Sheree had no idea what rules vampires adhered to, if any.
And then there was Derek. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t begin to imagine the stress he must be under, or how he would react if he couldn’t resist the call of the full moon.
Her nerves grew taut as darkness fell. Where were they?
She whirled around when she realized she was no longer alone. “Derek . . . oh.” She glanced from Logan to Mara. “Where is he?”
“He asked us to lock him in the dungeon.”
“The dungeon! Why? The moon won’t be full until tomorrow night.”
Mara didn’t answer, just stood there, her expression one of unutterable sorrow.
“He’s afraid, isn’t he?” Sheree asked. “Afraid he might hurt me.”
Logan nodded. “That’s part of it.”
“Did something happen?”
“He killed a deer last night.”
“Oh.” It was sad, Sheree thought, but surely it didn’t warrant such concern.
“He ripped out its throat and drained it of blood,” Logan explained. “He was completely out of control.”
Out of control. Sheree could easily imagine the carnage if that had happened in the city, among unsuspecting men and women. “Can I see him?”
“Of course,” Mara said.
“Just be careful,” Logan added.
The dungeon was located at the bottom of a long flight of narrow stone steps. There were no electric lights, only a few lanterns that cast flickering shadows on the gray stone walls and floor.
A number of small cells lined both sides of the cavernous room. A larger, square cell stood at the end of the corridor. Barefoot and shirtless, Derek paced the confines of his prison. A long silver chain linked his left ankle to a heavy bolt in the floor.
His head came up, his eyes zeroing in on her as she approached. “Go away,” he growled.
“No. I don’t want you to be alone. Why are you chained to the floor?”
“The silver grounds me so I can’t use my preternatural powers to escape.”
“Oh.” She filed that bit of knowledge away, wondering if she would ever know all there was to know about vampires and werewolves.
“Sheree, I’m sorry I got you involved in all this.”
The droop of his shoulders, the regret in his voice, tugged at her heart. Forcing a smile, she said, “It hasn’t been all bad.”
“Just most of it,” he muttered darkly. “Stay there!” he hissed when she moved closer to the bars.
“I want to help.” She closed the remaining distance between them, then thrust her arm between two of the bars. “Take what you need.”
He recoiled from her as if she was offering him a cup of hemlock. “I can’t, love. Not now.”
“Now is when you need it the most.”
He couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t trust himself to stop after a sip or two.
He was still at war with himself when Logan appeared, carrying one of the easy chairs from the living room.
Logan smiled at Sheree. “You might as well be comfortable if you’re going to stay down here,” he remarked, positioning the chair close to the cell. “Oh, and Mara sent you this.” He pulled a candy bar from his pocket and handed it to Sheree. “It used to be her favorite.”
“Thank her for me, please.”
“Sure. Can I bring you anything else?”
“Not now, thanks.”
Logan’s gaze moved over Derek. “You doing all right, son?”
Derek nodded, his jaw clenched.
“Well, holler if you need anything,” Logan said, and vanished from their sight.
Sheree sank down in the chair, her fingers tracing the logo on the candy wrapper.
After a moment, Derek sat on the floor, his arms resting on his bent knees. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Tell me about you. What kind of a little girl were you? Dirty face and pigtails?”
“That was rarely allowed,” Sheree said, pretending to be shocked by the mere idea, and then grinned. “I was an only child and my parents spoiled me shamelessly. I’m afraid I took advantage of them, but they never complained. I had enough dresses and dolls for a dozen girls. And horseback riding lessons and ballet lessons. And my very own TV. Of course, what I really wanted most of all was a little sister, because my best friend had one. Did you ever miss having brothers and sisters?”
“Not really. But after I turned thirteen, I missed having friends. I couldn’t play outdoors after that and gradually I stopped hanging out with them because it was too hard to explain why I couldn’t go outside, and why I couldn’t grab a hamburger on a Saturday afternoon, or spend the day surfing.”
“What about girls?”
He snorted softly. He had never had any trouble in that department. “Dating was easier in some ways. There wasn’t anything unusual about taking in a late movie or going for a walk along the beach after sunset. Things like that. But I never saw the same girl more than two or three times. It was just too hard to hide what I was, to keep coming up with excuses for why I couldn’t take them out for an afternoon at the beach or come over for Sunday dinner, or take in a matinee.”
Sheree shifted in the chair, thinking he must have had a lonely childhood. How awful, to have to hide who you were, to always be on your guard.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Derek remarked. “My family spoiled me, too, in their way. I got to do most of the things boys like to do, like hunting and fishing, only we did our hunting and fishing after dark. Logan taught me to wrestle and play baseball, and he took me rock climbing and hiking. . . .” His voice trailed off as his hands clenched at his sides.
“What is it?” Sheree asked. “What’s happening?”
“I can feel the werewolf in me trying to get out.”
“That’s not supposed to happen until tomorrow night, is it?”
“Who the hell knows?” He raked his fingers through his hair, then stood and began pacing the floor, the thick chain rattling with every step.
Rising, Sheree folded her hands around the bars. “Derek, drink from me. Maybe it will help.”
