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He growled deep in his throat, and then, in a blur of movement, he was standing in front of her, one of her arms clutched in his hand, his head bent over her wrist.
As his fangs pierced her flesh, she gasped, surprised by the pain. It had never hurt before.
A low purr filled the air as he drank.
And drank.
Sheree closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Mara was at her side.
“Derek,” his mother said sharply. “Let her go!”
He looked up, his eyes blood red. And then he snarled at her.
Mara dissolved into mist, then rematerialized inside the cell. Gripping her son’s arm, she stared into his eyes. “Let her go. Now.”
He obeyed instantly, then backed away from her.
A moment later, Mara was again at Sheree’s side. Eyes narrowed, she asked, “Are you all right?”
Sheree nodded, too afraid to answer lest she burst into tears. Once she recovered, she asked, “What’s going to happen to him?”
“I wish I knew. I brought you here because I thought your blood would soothe him, as it has in the past, but I was wrong. He’s losing control of himself, just as he feared he would. I think it might be better if you come upstairs.”
“Let her stay,” Derek said, his voice filled with guilt. “I need her.”
“Don’t be a fool. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t stopped you?”
“Sheree,” he whispered. “Please stay.”
“I don’t advise it,” Mara said, “but the choice is yours. If you decide to stay, you have only to call me if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
With a last warning glance at her son, Mara left the dungeon.
Sheree sat in the chair again, watching as the red slowly faded from Derek’s eyes. He sank down on the floor, his back braced against the wall. She bit down on her lower lip, searching for something to say, some words of comfort, but nothing came to mind. She had clung to the hope that the full moon would come and go without incident, but it seemed a foolish hope, given what had just happened.
Sheree kept Derek company until the rising sun coaxed him to sleep. Exhausted, she went upstairs to bed, only to lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the night would bring. It seemed a given that he would shift into a werewolf. She wished she knew more about such creatures, but the only information she had came from horror movies. They were compelled to change when the moon was full. They terrorized humans, often killing them in hideous ways. She had never believed in werewolves the way she believed in vampires. Now, it seemed werewolves were also real. If vampires and werewolves existed, why not all the monsters of myth and legend? Fairies and trolls, giants and elves, zombies and leprechauns and the invisible man!
Derek had said little last night, his thoughts obviously turned inward. She could only imagine what he was thinking, feeling. Being a vampire was bad enough, but at least that was something he knew, something he could control, at least most of the time. She knew what he feared was being out of control, that when he was a werewolf he would be a beast with no conscience, no memory of his humanity. That he would savage anything that crossed his path.
Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes, and prayed that the things Derek feared the most would never come to pass.
One way or another, things would come to a head when the moon rose tonight.
Chapter Thirty
“I win!” Pearl exclaimed, tossing her cards onto the table. “That’s three games in a row.”
“You always were lucky at cards,” Edna remarked. “I think you cheat.”
“Well, of course I cheat,” Pearl said. “Are you just now realizing that?”
“What? You mean to sit there and admit that all these years you’ve been cheating me, your best and only friend?”
“It’s more fun than losing, dear.”
Edna had worked herself up into a fine lather when there was a knock on the door of their hotel room.
Pearl met Edna’s wide-eyed gaze. “What is she doing here?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.
“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”
Gathering her courage, Pearl opened the door. “Mara,” she said, “how nice to see you again.”
“Spare me your fake hospitality. I need your help.”
Pearl glanced at Edna. “You need our help?”
“The serum you were working on during the war. Do you have any left?”
“No.”
“Can you cook up another batch?”
“Are you thinking of trying it on Derek?” Edna looked at Pearl with an I-told-you-so expression.
“I don’t know what else to do. This, this . . . whatever it is, is tearing him up inside. I know I should have come to you sooner.” Instead, her pride and distrust had cost them valuable time.
“I have the formula memorized,” Pearl said. “Of course, there’s no guarantee it will work.”
“It killed two of the werewolves when you tried it before,” Mara said.
“True, and that’s what you want to happen now, isn’t it?”
“Only if you’re sure it will destroy the werewolf gene without killing my son in the process.”
“The results with the vampires was mixed,” Edna remarked. “It cured two of them, but had no effect on Rafe. Of course, those vampires were very young, as I recall. Isn’t that right, Pearl?”
“Yes, dear. With a few modifications, I think we can adjust the formula so it will kill the werewolf gene without hurting the host.”
Mara’s eyes narrowed. “What kinds of modifications?”
Pearl tapped her forefinger against her lips. “Well, for starters, I think we need to add a bit of wolf’s bane for added killing power, and a few drops of your blood.”
“My blood? Why? It’s already running in his veins.”
“A little fresh vampire blood couldn’t hurt.”
“Can you have the serum ready in time?”
“Goodness, no,” Pearl exclaimed. “We have to collect the ingredients and prepare them properly. That will take several days. And it has to cook for at least forty-eight hours.”
“We don’t have forty-eight hours!” Mara snapped.
Pearl squared her shoulders. “Then you were right. You should have come to us sooner.” She cringed when the ancient vampire’s eyes went red. I’m dead, she thought, and clapped her hand over her mouth.
Mara glared at her, then nodded. “Just do what you have to do.” With a wave of her hand, she was gone.
