Once Forbidden (6 page)

“Where
are you, Devlin?” she mused aloud. “When are you coming back?”

Much
to her surprise, she got an answer to her question, although it was inside her
head.
“When I can, love. Remember what I said. Don’t let anyone in.”

She
was so surprised she nearly dropped the coffee cup. Was he listening to her
thoughts? Were her thoughts no longer her own? “Are you spying on me?” she
asked nervously.

The
voice in her head was impatient.
“No, Sarah, but should I ignore you when
you ask me a question?”
he snapped.

Clearly,
he was out of patience with her and she winced. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and heard
his answering chuckle.

“I’ll
be back as soon as I can. Call me if you need me. Otherwise, your thoughts are
your own, I promise.”

And
just that quickly, she felt him leave her mind.
Felt it.
That was the
key. She could feel it when he was in her head. She sighed with relief. He
wasn’t spying on her. Still, she was left with all the same questions. What was
she going to do about Devlin?

Chapter Seven

Devlin
went to the Elders to see if anyone else had sensed the danger as he had. He stood
before the Council waiting for them to allow him to sit. It was silly—he was on
a first-name basis with all of them, but in the Chambers, they all expected the
formality.

“Sit,
Devlin,” the eldest, Giles, said in a deep voice. “Tell us of this danger.”

Devlin
sat in the chair in the center of the large room. He looked at each Elder,
trying to get a read, but of course, couldn’t. They were masters at keeping
feelings private. “I was in Australia, and sensed danger. I was unable to
determine where it was coming from. I thought it best to warn the Council,” he
said. There was no reason for him to mention Sarah, though he had no way of
knowing if Carina would.

Carina
spoke now. “Hunters?”

Devlin
shrugged and then answered. “I’m not sure, Carina. It was more a sense of
hatred I sensed than anything. I can not even tell you for a certainty that the
danger was human.” It was rare for a human to even be aware of vampires. Sometimes,
the Chosen could sense them, but not others. Most of the Hunters were either
Chosen—or related to Chosen.

Of
course, to exist with humans, it had become necessary over the years for there
to be interaction with them. Some were so desperate to become vampires that
they willingly allowed themselves to be fed from. It was against vampire law to
take the life of a human to feed, but there was no such law about feeding from
them. Of course, all vampires preferred the fresh blood to that of the blood
banks.

“Are
you sure it was even aimed at you?” Giles asked now, his white brows furrowed
in concern.

“I
am certain of that much, yes.”

“Devlin,
I hesitate to ask this—but what of your human?” Carina asked carefully.

“What
of her?” he asked sharply.

“Did
she tell anyone about you?”

“Of
course not,” he said quickly. Damn her, why had she said that? He didn’t want
to answer questions about Sarah.

Eleven
pairs of eyes turned to Carina. “What of this human?” Giles asked, speaking for
the rest of the council.

“It
is for Devlin to tell,” she said.

Devlin
cursed beneath his breath. “It has nothing to do with her. No one but Carina
even knows about her.”

Carina
met his angry gaze. “Are you sure, Devlin? She could have told someone. You
know the Hunters are Chosen. Perhaps she—“

“No!”
he roared. He refused to believe that Sarah had betrayed him. He hadn’t fully
read her—there had been no reason to. But he would not—could not—believe that
she’d betrayed him to his enemies. “No,” he said more calmly. “Sarah has
nothing to do with this.”

“You’ve
blended with her mind then?” Giles asked with a raised brow.

Devlin
knew it was pointless to lie. “No. But she had no chance to tell anyone.” A
small kernel of doubt formed in his mind. Was it possible? Had she contacted
someone about him? Was she one of the Chosen that could detect a vampire?

No.
It wasn’t possible. Her reactions to him had been too honest—too innocent.

“Blend
with her, Devlin. You must be sure. We will alert the others, but you must
first blend with this human,” Giles ordered.

Devlin
watched as the others at the large table nodded in agreement, though none of
them spoke. “It will be done,” he said from between clenched teeth.

He
heard Carina’s voice in his mind.
“We have to be sure, Devlin. It is possible.”

Devlin
didn’t reply. Without a word, he stalked from the room.

Devlin
transported to his home. He needed time to think about his next step. It wasn’t
that blending with her mind was going to hurt her. It wouldn’t. But it was an
invasion. Thoughts were private. He could easily read things she broadcast, but
her inner-most thoughts were her own.

He
paced in his room. He should have never gone to the Council. Hell, for that
matter, he should have never contacted Carina about Sarah in the first place. Devlin
sighed and sat on the edge of the bed tiredly. Carina was an Elder. Her first
loyalty was to the Vampire Nation. She was sworn, as were all the Elders, to
protect them from danger.

That
knowledge lessened his anger, but didn’t solve the inherent problem. He didn’t
want to invade Sarah’s mind. It wasn’t fair to her. He could ask. Hell, she
might even agree. But in her shoes—he’d be livid. He’d expect her to trust him.
How could he make her understand that there was more at stake than just the two
of them, though?

“Devlin!”

Devlin
heard her voice coming to him urgently. Something was terribly wrong. With an
oath, he willed himself to her bathroom.
“I’m here. What’s wrong?”

There
was no answer. Devlin was frantic. He couldn’t go search the apartment for her.
There was a lot of blood. He could smell it—fresh blood permeated his senses,
causing an instant hunger he ignored.

It
was still at least an hour before dusk. In all the years he’d been a vampire,
he’d never felt so helpless. “Sarah!” he yelled. Somewhere in the apartment she
was hurt.

“Devlin!”

He
said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be listening. “What’s
wrong, Sarah? Are you hurt? Come to me.”

Sarah’s
voice shook when she answered. “Devlin, I can’t,” she said, her voice growing faint.
“I’m hurt.”

Devlin’s
heartbeat, had he had one, would have raced. “Are we alone?” He didn’t think
there was anyone else in the house. He didn’t sense the presence of anyone else.
Still, he wanted to be sure. Why hadn’t she called for him if she’d been in
danger?

“Yes,”
she whispered.

Devlin
cursed fluently. “Love, are the blinds closed?” he called.

Sarah
shook her head, trying to clear it. She was getting weaker. Dying. She was
going to die. Not before she told him how she felt. It was all so clear to her
now. Funny how that worked. It had all been so simple when there had been a
madman standing before her with a knife in his hand. “I love you, Devlin.”

Devlin
willed himself to her side and lifted her. In the next instant, they were in
his home. He ignored the pain from the burns on every inch of exposed skin. They
would heal. He placed her gently on the bed. “Sarah,” he whispered, touching
her pale cheek. The front of her shirt was covered in dark read blood. Already,
it was pooling around her onto the comforter. “Wake up, Sarah.”

There
wasn’t as much as a flicker of her eyelids. She was unconscious. He felt for
her pulse. It was there—but barely. Choice was taken out of her hands now. Either
he had to change her, or he had to watch her die.

Chapter Eight

Devlin
grabbed a knife from his bedside stand and quickly sliced his arm. He lifted
her into his arms and held the dripping wound against her mouth. He prayed that
it wasn’t too little too late. He’d never changed anyone. Of course, he knew
the process. The one to be changed had to drink from the vampire.

But
could she when she was unconscious? “Sarah! Drink!” he commanded, his voice
hard. “Now!” He forced his will past her unconscious state, delving into her
mind. “Do as I say, Sarah. Drink from me,” he ordered. “Do it now, love!”

As
she drank from him, he too had to drink from her—and she had precious little
blood to spare. He lifted her wrist to his lips, kissed it and sank his
incisors into the radial artery. As always, there was the surge of power he
felt with fresh blood, but this time there was so much more.

He
didn’t want to stop—the hunger he felt was fierce. This wasn’t what he’d
expected, but he forced himself to retract his incisors, though he continued to
let her drink from him. She needed the blood—and she’d need even more when she
awoke.

Finally,
he pulled his arm away and watched dispassionately as the wound closed itself. He
could feel her blood coursing through his veins and it was intoxicating. The
urge to mate was almost overpowering—had she been conscious, he doubted he’d
have been able to control it at all.

Not
exactly sure how long she’d remain unconscious—she’d been too near death—he
hurried to get his freshest blood for her. He knew that she’d be repulsed at
the idea of drinking from a living person, although it would have been his
preference. He grabbed two bags and two wine glasses, and then went back to his
room.

The
burns were starting to hurt more now that the immediate danger to Sarah had
passed. It took burns from even filtered sun hours to heal—but they would heal.
He needed blood of his own for that to happen.

Taking
scissors from the nightstand, he snipped open the end of the bag and poured the
blood into the wine glass. He drank it slowly. When the glass was empty, he
refilled it with the remainder of the blood and sat it on the nightstand. That
would tide him over until she was awake.

He
lifted her shirt and looked at what remained of the wound on her chest. She’d
obviously been stabbed. But it would heal. Even as he watched, the scars on her
chest began to heal. She’d be alright.

Devlin’s
jaw clenched. Those that had harmed her would
not.
He would destroy them
in the most painful manner he could devise—and he could devise many. With a
sigh he pushed the thought aside for now. First, he had to take care of her. He
didn’t want her to wake up covered in blood. He stripped away the bloody shirt
and the ridiculous sweat pants and tossed them carelessly to the floor. A smile
touched his firm lips as he looked at her panties, remembering that he still
had her other pair in his pocket. He removed those, too, as they were covered
in blood as well.

Next,
he carried her to the bath and laid her carefully into the large tub. He turned
on the water and adjusted the temperature. She slept through it all, as his
hands gently washed away the physical evidence of the attack.

Devlin
smiled when her eyelids fluttered open as he washed her hair. It had grown even
and was mid-way down her back now. “You’re awake,” he said gently.

“I’m
not dead?” she said.

“What
happened, love?” he asked as he rinsed her hair. “Can you tell me?” He watched
as her eyes darkened with remembered pain and cursed beneath his breath. He
reaffirmed his determination that those responsible would pay with their lives.

Sarah
looked down at herself. “Is this another illusion?” she asked.

Devlin
shook his head. “No, not an illusion, Sarah,” he said quietly.

Sarah’s
eyes widened. “What did you do, Devlin?” She couldn’t miss the burns that were
on his face and arms, although they were healing. He’d obviously come into the
bedroom and taken her away.