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“Hmm. I never thought of that.”
His knuckles stroked the side of her neck. “You’ve obviously never considered the danger, either.”
She shivered at his touch. “What do you mean?”
“Vampires are born predators.”
“Even the good ones?”
“Even the good ones.”
“But you don’t believe they really exist, do you?”
He was about to say he knew they did when a familiar scent wafted through the air. Looking toward the entrance, he swore under his breath, then led Sheree back to their table.
“Is something wrong?” Sheree asked, sliding into the booth.
“Oh, yeah,” Derek said, still standing. “My sister is here.” The lie rolled easily off his lips. After all, he couldn’t very well introduce Mara as his mother, not when she looked younger than he did.
Sheree glanced past Derek to see a slender woman gliding toward them. “She’s lovely,” Sheree murmured, although lovely didn’t really do the young woman justice. Her skin was smooth and clear, her figure slim and perfect. Hair as black as ebony fell down to her hips.
The woman smiled as she approached. “Derek, how nice to see you.”
“Sister, dear.” He didn’t ask what she was doing there, but the question was implied in the tone of his voice.
“You must be Sheree. I’m Mara.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. Won’t you join us?”
“No, thank you.” Mara laughed softly. “I just stopped by for a drink.”
“Do you come here often?” Sheree asked.
“Now and then, when I’m thirsty. I don’t want to intrude on your evening, but it was lovely meeting you, Sheree.”
Rising on her tiptoes, Mara kissed Derek on the cheek, then melted into the crowd.
“You two seem very close,” Sheree remarked. “I always wanted a sister, or an older brother.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Derek slid into the booth, his gaze following his mother’s progress toward the bar. What the hell was she doing here? As if he didn’t know. “Do you want another drink?”
“I don’t think so.” Sheree frowned. “Mara. That name sounds familiar somehow.”
“Does it?”
She leaned forward, one elbow propped on the table, her chin resting on her hand. “I overheard a couple of men mention it one night. But they were talking about vampires, so I’m sure it was another Mara.”
“Of course. What were they saying about her?”
“Something about her being the oldest, most powerful vampire in existence.” Sitting back, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “They claimed she knew Cleopatra.”
It was nearing one A.M. when Derek walked Sheree to her car. After kissing her good night, he returned to the Den and ordered a real vampire martini: a glass of red wine laced with blood. Sipping it slowly, he thought about what she had said. People—other vampires? hunters?—were talking about Mara. He had to wonder who they were and what, exactly, they had been saying. His mother had kept a pretty low profile for the past twenty-six years. Few outside their family knew she had somehow evolved from vampire to human, a mystery no one could explain, or that she had willingly given up her humanity because of him.
At Mara’s urging, his stepfather had bestowed the Dark Gift upon her. Her preternatural powers had returned stronger than ever, perhaps because Blackwood’s blood was Mara’s blood. She had always been a force to be reckoned with, but never more so than now. If those talking about her were humans hoping to do her harm, they were in for a hell of a surprise, one that was likely to be their last.
Like the rest of his family, Derek was in awe of his mother. Although she looked younger than he did, she had been born in Egypt in the time of the pharaohs.
His mother. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her eyes a deep emerald green, her hair thick and long and as black as night. Not only was she the most beautiful, but she was the most powerful creature in existence. He had grown up on stories of her life—how she had been raised as a slave in the house of Chuma, one of Pharaoh’s trusted advisers, and how, just a month shy of her fifteenth birthday, her master had given her to Shakir, a wealthy ally, as a gift. There had been no male slaves in Shakir’s household, no eunuchs. Mara had skimmed over the years she’d spent in Shakir’s palace, but it had been easy for Derek to imagine what she had suffered there. She had run away so many times that her master had finally locked her in a cell, releasing her only when he desired her to warm his bed.
Had it not been for Dendar, the vampire who had come to her in the dark of night, Mara likely would have perished in that foul prison. Dendar had turned her and deserted her, leaving Mara to discover for herself what she had become and how to survive. Fueled by rage infused with preternatural power, she had avenged herself on the men who had used and abused her, and then destroyed the vampire who had made her.
She had confessed once that she regretted killing her sire. Had I known how wonderful it is to be a vampire, she had said with a sigh, I might have kissed him instead. Knowing his mother would blow off his concern, Derek made a quick call to Logan, advising his stepfather that Sheree had overheard some men talking about Mara.
He might be worrying for nothing, Derek mused when he ended the call, but why take chances?
Chapter Five
Sheree drove home slowly, her thoughts on Derek. And his sister, who was as beautiful as her brother was handsome.
While getting ready for bed, Sheree tried to remember exactly what the men she had heard talking about Mara had said. Of course, it couldn’t be the same Mara, just an odd coincidence.
She tried to imagine what it would be like to have lived since the time of Cleopatra, to have watched the world change so drastically. Every new invention must seem like a miracle to someone born back then.
How did you adjust to such radical changes in your life? But then, modern man had to adjust to changes, too. Horses replaced by cars, candles replaced by gas lights and then electricity. Paperback books going the way of the dinosaur. Landlines being swallowed up by cell phones that grew increasingly more powerful and did practically everything but the laundry. Not that people did much laundry these days, what with disposable clothing and material that shed dirt the way ducks shed water.
She grinned, thinking about the new iPad Z12, and cars that talked to you and were capable of driving themselves if you didn’t want to be bothered holding the wheel, or if you wanted to take a nap during a long journey.
