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.”