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“All’s well that ends well,” Derek said, chuckling. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yours or mine?”
He ran his hand along her thigh. “Mine is closer,” he purred, “and we are on our honeymoon.”
It was hard to remember she was angry with him when he was so near, when his scent, the mere touch of his hand, stirred her desire. Not willing to let that anger go, she thought about all she had lost when he turned her into a vampire. His being a vampire hadn’t been a problem. She had been willing to make adjustments in her own lifestyle to accommodate his. He preferred the night. He drank blood. She could accept those things. But, even though she was perfectly happy to have a husband who was a vampire, that didn’t mean she wanted to be one, too.
Jerking his hand from her thigh, he growled, “Would you rather I had let you die?”
“Stop reading my mind! And for your information, I wanted to find a vampire. I never wanted to be one!”
When he braked for a red light, she jumped out of the car and dashed into the darkness, running away from a decision she hadn’t made. Like a petulant child, she blamed Derek for her unhappiness, for turning her without asking her permission. She was being irrational and she knew it; even if he had asked her, she had been incapable of a response. What would her answer have been?
Derek swore a vile oath as Sheree disappeared from sight. He swerved in front of the car beside him, pulled over to the curb, killed the engine, and went after her.
Sheree ran effortlessly, jumping over block walls without even thinking about it. And all the while, in the back of her mind, she heard his voice asking if she would rather be dead.
She vaulted over a parked car. Of course she didn’t want to be dead, but she didn’t want to be a vampire, either. All she wanted was her old life back, and she would have it in two weeks.
Slowing, she glanced around. She had no idea where she was. Old buildings hemmed her in on both sides. Most had boarded-up windows. Many were spray painted with gang signs and symbols.
She stopped at the sound of voices. Drunken voices. Coming from the building across the street.
With her preternatural vision, she could see three young men crouched in the doorway, passing a bottle back and forth between them.
One of the men looked up, his eyes widening when he saw her.
Muttering, “Oh, crap!” Sheree tried to dissolve into mist, and when that failed, she whirled around and ran back the way she’d come.
And slammed into Derek.
His arms went around her. “Where the hell did you think you were going?”
“Away from you.” She glanced over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, they’re too drunk to come after you.”
“Just take me home.”
“Dammit, Sheree, I’m sorry you’re so unhappy, but I’m not sorry for what I did.”
She stared up at him, mute.
Blowing out a sigh, he transported the two of them back to his car, drove her to his house. And left her there without a word.
Alone in his bed, she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had never left Philadelphia.
Chapter Forty-Four
The next two weeks were the most miserable of Sheree’s life. She never saw Derek, though she sometimes sensed his presence. She thought about going to her own house, but something kept her in Sacramento.
She slept through the days, hunted in the evening, and tried not to think about Pearl, afraid that Derek would read her thoughts and try to stop her.
Where was Derek staying? Was he spending his days at Mara’s? Would he come back here if she left? She glanced at the gaily wrapped gifts stacked in the corner. They hadn’t opened the presents the night of the wedding; at some point, Derek had dropped them off at the house. She had no interest in any of them.
She had no interest in anything except being human again.
She was curled up on the sofa, trying to watch one of the old Iron Man movies, when someone knocked on the door.
When she opened it, a young man dressed all in black stood on the porch.
“Are you Sheree Blackwood?” he asked.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“Here.” He thrust an envelope into her hand, and disappeared from sight.
After closing the door, Sheree opened the envelope and removed a sheet of paper. All it said was, “Meet me tomorrow night at Maxie’s Dress Shop in the mall on 7th Street. 8 P.M. Tell no one.”
After reading the note, she burned it in the fireplace.
Sheree took a cab to the mall, glancing over her shoulder all the way, but there was no sign of Derek. She checked again before entering the mall, then hurried up to the second floor. It took her a moment to find Pearl. Instead of her usual flamboyant attire, the woman was wearing blue jeans, a gray windbreaker, and a blond wig.
Talk about cloak-and-dagger, Sheree thought.
“Here it is.” Pearl glanced around, assuring herself they were alone before pressing a small bottle filled with dark red liquid into Sheree’s hand. “Drink it before you go to bed tonight. When you wake up tomorrow night, you should be mortal again.”
“Should be?”
“There’s no guarantee. Edna and I tested it on three newly made vampires. All reverted back to their humanity.”
“That’s great!”
“So it would seem. But Edna and I turned the three, and our blood isn’t as powerful as Derek’s. And they hadn’t been vampires for more than a few days. And, well, there are lots of variables in something like this. I just want you to be aware of the danger, and of the fact that it might not work.”
Sheree nodded. “I understand. What do I owe you for this?”
“Nothing, dear. I just hope it works,” Pearl said, and vanished from sight.
Tucking the bottle inside her handbag, Sheree strolled through the mall, her heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If she had the nerve to take Pearl’s formula, she might wake up her old self tomorrow. Did she have the courage?
She paused in front of a candy store and inhaled the myriad scents emanating from inside. It was unfair that she could now detect even the most delectable smells and could no longer enjoy the taste of her favorite chocolates. She could smell fresh popcorn wafting up from the first floor, and pizza, and pretzels.
She felt a sharp pang when she saw a mother and child emerge from one of the shops. She would never have a child of her own. She told herself that lots of women were unable to bear children, that there was always adoption, though she didn’t see how that could possibly work, given her circumstances.
