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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