Dissolving into mist, he drifted down the staircase. The front door was ajar. Two men holding pistols stood with their backs toward him. One of them had a fat white bandage wrapped around his forehead. Aurland, the scar-faced man from the Den. The other hunter was a stranger.
Aurland waved his gun toward the second floor. “She must be up there.”
The second man had one hand on the banister when Derek heard Sheree’s footsteps in the hallway upstairs.
“Get out of sight,” Aurland hissed. “She’s coming down.”
Derek glanced at the landing, and sure enough, Sheree was on her way down the stairs, wrapped in a bathrobe, her slippers flip-flapping on the steps.
Shit! He couldn’t materialize in front of her. Darting out the door, Derek resumed his own shape again, then stood just inside the threshold.
At the foot of the stairs, Sheree came to an abrupt halt when she saw him. “Oh, Derek, you startled me!”
“Sorry.” He glanced around, nostrils flaring. Aurland was hiding behind the kitchen door. The other man was in the hall closet.
Stepping out onto the porch, Derek gestured for Sheree to follow him.
She frowned at him instead. “What are you doing here?”
“Come outside,” he said softly.
“I’m not dressed.”
“Dammit, woman . . .”
“Louis! Now!” Aurland shouted as he emerged from the kitchen. The second hunter sprang out of the closet, both firing when they saw Derek. The first bullet took him in the shoulder, the second burying itself in his right leg. The silver burned through skin and muscle like acid.
The sound of Sheree’s high-pitched scream galvanized Derek into action. His fist a blur, he punched the hunter nearest him in the throat, killing him instantly.
Aurland fired a second time.
The force of the bullet slammed into Derek’s chest, just missing his heart. Before the hunter could fire again, Derek grabbed the man’s head between his hands and with a quick twist broke his neck and tossed the body aside.
A strangled sob reminded him he wasn’t alone. He turned in time to see Sheree sink to her knees, her eyes wide as she stared at the fallen hunters.
When he took a step toward her, she thrust her hands out to ward him off. “What are you?”
Damn! Capturing her gaze with his, he said, “Sheree, look at me. A couple of men tried to break into your house while we were talking. I scared the intruders away. You didn’t see anything unusual. There are no bodies in your house. But you didn’t want to stay here alone, so I took you home with me. Do you understand?”
When she nodded, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and punched in his mother’s number.
She answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come get me.” Glancing at the blood leaking from his wounds, he added, “Hurry.”
Wise woman that she was, his mother didn’t waste time asking questions.
Three minutes later, Logan and Mara were standing on the front porch. Logan took a quick glance around and stated the obvious. “We’ve got to get those bodies out of here.”
Mara nodded. Unfortunately, they couldn’t go inside without an invitation from the owner, which meant, wounded or not, Derek would have to clean up the mess. “Derek, bring the bodies out here and then bring Sheree to me. I’ll take her to our place. Meet us there when you can. Oh, you might want to find a nightgown and a change of clothes for her.”
With a nod, Derek dragged the two men out onto the porch, then went back into the house for Sheree.
She stared at him blankly. “What are you doing?” she asked when he scooped her into his arms.
“Just relax,” he said as he carried her outside and lowered her into his mother’s waiting arms.
“Everything is just fine,” Mara said, her voice low and soothing. “Close your eyes, Sheree. That’s right. You’re going to go to sleep for a while, and you won’t wake up until I call you.”
Derek waited until Logan and his mother were gone; then he closed the front door and began setting things to right. Grabbing a dish towel from the kitchen he started mopping up his blood, no easy task since it continued to drip onto the floor with every step he took. Muttering an oath, he grabbed two more towels. He stuffed one inside his shirt and wrapped the other around his leg.
When he finished cleaning up, he went upstairs to find a change of clothes for Sheree. Downstairs again, he took one last look around, tucked her handbag under his arm, turned off the lights, and locked the door.
Moments later, he materialized inside the house in the Hollywood Hills. His mother was waiting for him in the living room.