food. She had dismissed it as some sort of hormone thing when he was a teenager, some crazy aberration because he was half human. But she couldn’t ignore it now.
Troubled, she followed him up the stairs.
Logan was waiting for her in their room. After closing the door, he took her in his arms. “What do you think’s wrong with him?”
“I wish I knew!”
“Could he be reverting?”
Shrugging, she laid her cheek against his chest. “If anything happens to him . . .” She let out a long, shuddering sigh. She loved Derek more than her own life. The thought of him in pain, the thought of losing him . . . Tears stung her eyes. She had killed the man who’d kidnapped her son when he was a baby, killed Thomas Ramsden without a qualm, as she would kill anyone who hurt what was hers. But this . . . there was no one to fight.
Lifting her head, she sniffed away her tears, then shook her head. “I don’t believe he’s reverting. Except for me, I know of no other vampire who has ever reverted.” She shook her head again. “He wasn’t made a vampire. He was born a vampire.” She grinned ruefully. “It’s in his blood. He can’t change what he was born to be.”
“Then what is it?”
“His father was mortal. Maybe as Derek grows older, he’ll be able to consume mortal food.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not going to worry about it until I know there’s a problem. What are you grinning at?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I know you, darlin’. You’re gonna worry over this like a dog with a bone until you figure it out.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do!”
“Darlin’,” he said, wrapping her in his arms, “I know you better than you know yourself.”
Closing her eyes, Mara surrendered to his kiss. Though she would never admit it out loud, Logan was right. In all her long existence, no man had understood her, or loved her, as he did.
She sighed when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed.
“I know just the thing to take your mind off your worries,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Yes.” She grinned when he stretched out beside her. “And a wonderful thing it is.”
Chapter Thirteen
Derek rose with the setting of the sun. Still troubled by his need for more than blood and not wanting to talk to his mother about it, or see the worry in her eyes, he dissolved into mist and materialized outside, in his car.
Once he was out of the hills, he hit the freeway. Putting everything out of his mind, he stomped on the gas and lost himself in the thrill of barreling down the road at 140 miles an hour. Not surprisingly, he soon had a cop on his tail.
Slowing, he pulled off the road, put the car in park, and waited.
“I guess you know why I pulled you over,” the cop said.
Derek nodded. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
The cop flipped open his ticket book. “You’re under arrest. I’ll need to see your license and proof of insurance.”
Looking up, Derek trapped the officer’s gaze with his own. “You don’t want to arrest me, officer, or give me a ticket. A warning will do.”
“A warning, yes, of course.”
“Thank you, officer.”
Looking slightly confused, the cop closed his ticket book and returned to his car.
Derek tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the patrol car pull into traffic. He would have been happy to give the guy his driver’s license, only the one he carried was fake. He didn’t have insurance, or a birth certificate, either. As far as humanity was concerned, Derek Blackwood didn’t exist. Usually, he didn’t give it a thought, but sometimes, like tonight, it made him feel like the invisible man. It was a lonely feeling.
Swearing a pithy oath, he put the car in gear and drove back toward Hollywood.
Without conscious thought, he found himself in front of Nosferatu’s Den.
Sheree sat at the end of the bar, listening to the music and wondering what insanity had brought
Troubled, she followed him up the stairs.
Logan was waiting for her in their room. After closing the door, he took her in his arms. “What do you think’s wrong with him?”
“I wish I knew!”
“Could he be reverting?”
Shrugging, she laid her cheek against his chest. “If anything happens to him . . .” She let out a long, shuddering sigh. She loved Derek more than her own life. The thought of him in pain, the thought of losing him . . . Tears stung her eyes. She had killed the man who’d kidnapped her son when he was a baby, killed Thomas Ramsden without a qualm, as she would kill anyone who hurt what was hers. But this . . . there was no one to fight.
Lifting her head, she sniffed away her tears, then shook her head. “I don’t believe he’s reverting. Except for me, I know of no other vampire who has ever reverted.” She shook her head again. “He wasn’t made a vampire. He was born a vampire.” She grinned ruefully. “It’s in his blood. He can’t change what he was born to be.”
“Then what is it?”
“His father was mortal. Maybe as Derek grows older, he’ll be able to consume mortal food.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not going to worry about it until I know there’s a problem. What are you grinning at?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I know you, darlin’. You’re gonna worry over this like a dog with a bone until you figure it out.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do!”
“Darlin’,” he said, wrapping her in his arms, “I know you better than you know yourself.”
Closing her eyes, Mara surrendered to his kiss. Though she would never admit it out loud, Logan was right. In all her long existence, no man had understood her, or loved her, as he did.
She sighed when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed.
“I know just the thing to take your mind off your worries,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Yes.” She grinned when he stretched out beside her. “And a wonderful thing it is.”
Chapter Thirteen
Derek rose with the setting of the sun. Still troubled by his need for more than blood and not wanting to talk to his mother about it, or see the worry in her eyes, he dissolved into mist and materialized outside, in his car.
Once he was out of the hills, he hit the freeway. Putting everything out of his mind, he stomped on the gas and lost himself in the thrill of barreling down the road at 140 miles an hour. Not surprisingly, he soon had a cop on his tail.
Slowing, he pulled off the road, put the car in park, and waited.
“I guess you know why I pulled you over,” the cop said.
Derek nodded. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
The cop flipped open his ticket book. “You’re under arrest. I’ll need to see your license and proof of insurance.”
Looking up, Derek trapped the officer’s gaze with his own. “You don’t want to arrest me, officer, or give me a ticket. A warning will do.”
“A warning, yes, of course.”
“Thank you, officer.”
Looking slightly confused, the cop closed his ticket book and returned to his car.
Derek tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the patrol car pull into traffic. He would have been happy to give the guy his driver’s license, only the one he carried was fake. He didn’t have insurance, or a birth certificate, either. As far as humanity was concerned, Derek Blackwood didn’t exist. Usually, he didn’t give it a thought, but sometimes, like tonight, it made him feel like the invisible man. It was a lonely feeling.
Swearing a pithy oath, he put the car in gear and drove back toward Hollywood.
Without conscious thought, he found himself in front of Nosferatu’s Den.
Sheree sat at the end of the bar, listening to the music and wondering what insanity had brought
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