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.