“Help me? That you have.”
“And I don’t intend to stop.” Pulling his head down, she kissed him, hoping he was reading her mind so he would know how much she loved him, not only because he was as sexy as sin, but because he treated her like an equal. And because he trusted her with the truth.
“With my life,” he said, raining feather-light kisses over her cheeks, her brow, the tip of her nose. His hands cupped her hips, drawing her closer, as his tongue slid along the side of her neck. “Let me?”
“Always.” Her eyelids fluttered down as his fangs scraped lightly over her skin. His earlier words whispered through her mind. When I drink from someone, I absorb their memories, their thoughts. Their life. It was disconcerting knowing he was privy to her every thought, her every wish, past and present. Are you reading my mind now? If you are, kiss me.
She had barely formed the thought when his mouth covered hers, hot and hungry. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her into the living room. Flames leaped in the hearth. Never taking his lips from hers, he lowered her to the floor, then gathered her into his arms, his back to the fire. His hands played over her body, sending shivers of sensual delight through every nerve and fiber of her being.
At last, she thought. At last . . .
When her cell phone rang, she let the call go to voice mail. But then it rang again. Dimly, she realized the ring was her mother’s.
After the third call, Derek drew back. “I think you’d better answer that.”
Dazed by his kisses, she fumbled inside her pocket for her phone. “Mom?”
“Sheree, it’s your dad. He . . .”
“What?” She sat up, the first shivery chill of fear chasing everything else from her mind. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s his heart. He’s in Presbyterian, in ICU.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can book a flight.”
“No need for that,” Derek said after she disconnected the call. “I can have you there in no time at all.”
She stared at him a moment, then smiled faintly. “Vampire Airlines?”
“Best in the world. Is there anything you need to take with you?”
“Just my purse and my phone.”
Rising, he helped her to her feet. A look extinguished the fire and turned off the lights. “Ready?”
When she nodded, he wrapped her in his arms.
Clutching her handbag to her chest, she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they were in the lobby of Presbyterian Hospital.
“You go on up,” Derek said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’ll wait for you down here.”
“No. Come with me.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. Too much blood.”
“Oh, of course. You won’t leave?”
“No. I’ll be here.”
With a nod, she hurried toward the elevators.
Sheree had always hated hospitals. She didn’t like the smell, or the insipid color of the walls, or the ugly floors. But, most of all, she didn’t trust doctors.
She found her mother at her father’s bedside, his hand clasped in hers. “Mom, what happened?”
Meredith looked up, her eyes red and swollen. “We were at dinner . . . at the Nortons’. . . . He just . . .” She blinked rapidly. “. . . just collapsed.”
“What does the doctor say?”
Meredith swallowed hard. “It’s not good. He said . . . that I should . . . prepare myself.”
Sheree bit down on her lower lip in an effort to keep from crying. Her mother needed her to be strong. She could fall apart later. But looking at her father, at how pale he was, at all the tubes and monitors, it was impossible to hold back her tears.
Nurses came and went. At midnight, Sheree went downstairs on the pretense of getting some coffee.
She found Derek in the lobby, sitting in a chair near the door. He rose as soon as he saw her and she ran into his arms. There was no need to say anything.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said, lightly stroking her hair.
She looked up at him through tear-swollen eyes. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Do you want me to make him a vampire?”
“Of course not, but . . . can’t you work some kind of vampire voodoo and save him?”
“I don’t know.” He had heard stories of humans who had been cured of any number of different maladies by an infusion of vampire blood, but he had no idea if such stories were true, or merely wishful thinking.
He looked down into Sheree’s eyes. How could he destroy the hope shining there?
“Go get that coffee,” he said. “I need to talk to Mara.”
Leaving the hospital, he found a quiet place and opened the link between himself and his mother. He had no idea if he could send her his thoughts from such a great distance. If it didn’t work, he’d go home and ask her.
What is it, Derek? Where are you?
Philadelphia. Sheree’s dad had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. Doesn’t look good. Is there anything I can do?
A little of your blood might save him.
So, the stories are true?
Some of them. I don’t know if your blood will cure him, but it might strengthen him long enough for the doctors to save him.
Thanks, Ma.
In his mind, he saw her bristle at his use of the word Ma, which she thought was demeaning, but which he used with affection.
Let me know what happens. And be careful.
When he returned, Sheree was waiting for him in the lobby, a cup of coffee in each hand. “What did she say?”
“She said giving him a little of my blood might help. It’s up to you.”
“It’s worth a try! Hurry!”
“Wait. You need to get your mother out of the room.”
“All right. How long will it take?”
Following her into the elevator, he said, “No more than a few minutes.” When they exited the elevator at the intensive care ward, he said, “I’ll wait here. When you get her out, I’ll go in.”
“Okay.”
A short time later, Sheree and her mother left the room.
As soon as they were out of sight, he dissolved into mist, then resumed his shape at her father’s bedside. Derek forced the man’s mouth open, bit into his own wrist, and let a dozen or so drops of his blood drip down the man’s throat.
At a sound from the hallway, Derek dissolved into mist once more and left the ICU. In the corridor, the scent of blood and pain and death was overpowering. A thought took him outside, where he took several deep breaths.