A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You’re afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“I’m afraid for you,” she admitted. “But I’m not afraid of you. There’s a big difference.” Tugging on his hand, she led the way to the sofa and drew him down beside her.
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, and tucked her against his side.
Sheree snuggled against him. Was it possible to be both werewolf and vampire at the same time? What would it mean for the two of them if he changed into a werewolf and stayed that way?
“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked.
“Derek, you’ve got to stop reading my mind! It isn’t fair.”
He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
“What frightens you the most?”
“Turning into a beast with no control over my actions.”
“That would be frightening, but . . . well, you’re a vampire and you don’t go around ripping out throats and killing indiscriminately, so . . . maybe there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I guess it depends on whether or not I remember who I am.”
Sheree’s eyes widened. “I never thought of that.” With no memory of who he was, Derek would truly be a beast. “It’s only one night a month, right?”
“So they say.” But he could kill a hell of a lot of people in one night. “Sheree . . .” At times like this, he wished she could read his mind.
“What?” She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. And then she knew. “You’re worried, wondering if I’ll still love you if you become a werewolf. It doesn’t matter what you are, Derek. Werewolf or vampire, I’ll love you just the same.”
“Sheree.” Lowering his head, he claimed her lips with his, hoping she knew how much she meant to him, afraid that in spite of her brave words, he would do something to drive her away.
She moaned softly, her body molding to his. Her breasts felt warm and soft against his chest, her lips sweetly yielding. Her warmth, the scent of her desire, stirred his hunger. She let out a little gasp of pained surprise when one of his fangs nicked her tongue. The taste of her blood swamped his senses.
With a growl, he sprang to his feet and turned away from her.
“Derek, I’m okay.”
“I’m not.” When she started to rise, he barked, “Stay there!” He took several deep breaths, fighting the urge to bury his fangs in her throat. “It’s best if I go.”
“But . . .”
“There’s someone I need to talk to.”
“Will I see you tomorrow night?”
“No. Not until after the full moon.”
“But I just got here.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Reining in his hunger, he turned to face her. “It’s too dangerous, love. I can feel the wolf stirring inside. It isn’t safe for you to be near me right now. Or for me to be near you.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Heaven help us both, but I don’t think I can face this without knowing you’re here.”
“You won’t have to,” she promised, and hoped she wouldn’t live to regret it.
Edna looked up from the book she was reading. “Pearl,” she whispered hoarsely, “Derek’s here!”
Pearl glanced around as though she expected to see him in the room. “What do you think he wants?”
“I have no idea.” Edna swallowed hard. “Why don’t you answer the door and ask him.”
“You answer it!”
Edna laid her book aside and opened the door, just a crack. “What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
“You . . . need . . . my help?”
“That’s what I said. Mind if I come in?”
“Could I keep you out?”
“Probably not.”
Sighing fatalistically, Edna invited him in. “Please, sit down.” She gestured at the sofa, then resumed her seat.
Pearl smiled faintly.
“So, what do you want?”
“Mara says you know more about werewolves than anyone.”
“That’s true,” Edna said, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. “I’ve been studying them since before you were born.”
“Is there a way to tell if I’m going to turn when the moon’s full?”
Edna clucked softly. “I’m not sure. I’d need to take your blood. Pearl, get my kit, would you?”
With a nod, Pearl went into the other room. She returned a short time later carrying a large brown case. “Where do you want it, dear?”
“On the table by the window.” Edna hurried to the table and lifted the lid on the case.
Derek peered over her shoulder, staring at the contents: a number of test tubes and bottles in various sizes, cotton swabs and cotton balls, rubber tubing, and several other objects he didn’t recognize.
Edna withdrew a syringe and a glass vial. “Roll up your sleeve.”
He did as she asked, watching curiously as she filled several vials with dark red blood.
With that done, she lifted a microscope from the case, then prepared several slides. After pulling a chair up to the table, she peered into the microscope.
Hands clenched at his sides, Derek paced the floor while Edna studied one slide after another. An hour later, she blew out a sigh.
“Well?” Derek growled.
“It’s hard to be a hundred percent certain, but I’d say the werewolf gene is active, at least to some degree.”
“If I change, will I remember who I am?”
“That I can’t say.”
“Will I be able to resist it?”
“No. You’ll be compelled to change the first time. You might be able to resist in the future, but that will depend on how strong the trait is, and your ability to fight it. I do know that the pain will be excruciating if you try to resist.”
“Mara suggested locking me up.”
Edna nodded. “She will need a sturdy cage.”
“Isn’t there a drug of some kind you can give me to keep it from happening?”
“I’m afraid not.” Edna glanced at Pearl. “Years ago we concocted a serum we hoped would cure the werewolves, but it wasn’t effective. Some died. Even if it had worked, I’m not sure what its effect would be on you, since you aren’t completely vampire or werewolf.”
Derek raked a hand through his hair. “Your best guess,” he said, thinking of Susie McGee. “If I change into a werewolf, will it be permanent?”