Once Forbidden (The Hunted Series - 1) ((Book One))

by Hope Welsh

  He realized that she was right. It was animosity he’d felt. Hatred. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “I need to go. I’ll damn well find out,” he promised. “Don’t leave the apartment, Sarah. I want you to stay inside until I come back. Promise me.”

  She couldn’t miss the intensity in his voice. “All right. I won’t go anywhere. Do you think I’m in danger?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’m not taking chances with your safety, Sarah. I need to know you’re safe.”

  Sarah nodded. “I promise I’ll stay here. You’ll come let me know what’s going on?”

  “Yes. Don’t let anyone in, Sarah. Not until I know what’s going on.”

  “I won’t,” she said again.

  Satisfied, he nodded. He lowered his head and gave her a hard kiss. “Think of me,” he ordered, then was gone.

  Think of me. As if she had any choice, she thought a little wildly. In the last twenty-four hours, she’d been across the world and back in the blink of an eye. She’d let a vampire make love to her in the most decadent of ways.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked aloud with a groan.

  Still shaky, she left the bathroom and went out to the bedroom. She changed from the skirt into a comfortable pair of sweats—and put on a pair of underwear. Remembering that he still had hers made her flush again.

  She’d never been so wanton. She hadn’t been a virgin, certainly. She was twenty-seven, after all. There had been men in her life in the past—even ones she’d thought herself in love with.

  None of them compared on any level with Devlin.

  Although he’d assured her he wasn’t controlling her mind, how could she be sure? She’d never thought to protest any of the things he’d done with and to her. Not once. She was still tender from his lovemaking. Even now, her body wanted him.

  Just thinking of him lying over her—his penis deep inside her—made her grow hot and moist. She wanted him still. Could he control her mind from a distance? Was he hiding somewhere within the apartment?

  She looked around frantically, and then shook herself. Of course he wasn’t. It was daylight. He was somewhere dark—of that much she was reasonably sure.

  Lord, but she was tired. She padded to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. She knew she’d never be able to sleep until he came back. There were so many questions, and she needed answers to them.

  Sarah opened her refrigerator and pulled out the makings for a sandwich. She hadn’t eaten since—she couldn’t remember. Eating was necessary, she knew it, but she wasn’t really hungry. Quickly she slapped together a ham sandwich to go with the coffee and sat down at her small table.

  What was she going to do about Devlin? About her life? She couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life hiding away in her apartment, nor could she imagine never seeing the light of day again. With a sigh, she sat the plate with her impromptu lunch aside half uneaten.

  “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 V
ampire 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.

  Devlin sighed and leaned back on his heels, watching her. “You were dying, Sarah. I changed you. You’re a vampire now,” he said quietly.

  Sarah closed her eyes. “I see.”

  Devlin could feel her close herself off from him. Damn it, he knew exactly how she felt—that was the problem. He’d felt the exact same way when Carina had changed him all those years ago. “I had no choice, Sarah. You would have died.”

  “I know,” she said simply, refusing to look at him. “Can I get out of here now, please?”

  Devlin nodded and stood. He held out his hand to her. He bit his tongue to keep silent when she hesitated before allowing him to help her from the tub. She was obviously still weak, and would be until she had sustenance. “I’ll get you a robe. Wait here,” he said flatly.

  Sarah let the tears fall down her cheeks now. She understood why he’d changed her. In his mind—there had been no choice.

  In hers, there was—he could have simply allowed her to die.

  Could she live like this? Did she want to live as a vampire? That thought made her laugh a little hysterically. No, she wasn’t alive anymore. She put her hand to her breast, and of course, there was no heartbeat.

  She touched her face. She’d never again see her face. Was not seeing it preferable to seeing the scars every day? She just didn’t know.

  But she loved Devlin—she did know that much. She just hadn’t been sure that she had been ready to give up her life as a human to be a vampire. Now, the choice had been taken from her. She looked up when the door opened. “Thank you,” she said formally, taking the offered robe.

 
Her hands were shaking. What happened to the super strength vampires were supposed to have? She felt as weak as a newborn kitten. “Why am I so weak?” she asked after she’d tied the robe tightly at her waist.

  “You need to drink,” he said calmly, crossing his arms against his broad chest. He leaned against the door and watched her.

  She shivered. “I have to drink blood?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Oh God, you’ve turned me into a monster,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Devlin’s eyes darkened and narrowed. “No, Sarah, I gave you a chance to live,” he snapped angrily. In a blink he was gone.

  Sarah sagged against the floor and sobbed. This wasn’t what she wanted. Did she have the nerve to kill herself? How would she even survive on her own?

  Unfortunately, the only one with the answers had disappeared.

  She suddenly realized that he wasn’t gone, though. He was just in the other room. He’d gone back to the bedroom. Obviously enhanced hearing was a perk. She tried to stand up, and realized she was simply too weak. “Devlin?”

  Devlin was kneeling next to her in the next instant. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have gotten angry. Let me help you.” He lifted her easily into his arms and carried her back to his room.

  He’d removed the bloody clothes and comforter, and he placed her on the cool sheets. “I’m sorry, but you have to drink,” he said quietly.

  “I know,” she said. She watched as he poured the blood from the donor bag into the wine glass. With shaking hands, she took the glass. “Is it terrible?”

  Devlin shook his head. “No, love. You’ll like it, actually.”

  She doubted that, but took a tentative sip of the warm liquid. Instantly, she felt her incisors grow and her hunger grew. The blood was marvelous! It wasn’t at all coppery as she’d remembered. This was actually sweet—delicious. She drained the glass and almost immediately felt better. “I feel better.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I’d imagine you do.”

  “So what happens now?” Why was he looking at her like that? His eyes were dark and his breathing had quickened. “What is it?”