Chapter 5
He arrived at Sophia’s compound like a force of nature barely contained in human flesh.
Luc had called ahead to warn them that Devon was en route and that his emotional state could charitably be described as “apocalyptic.”
Even so, Sophia’s security team stepped aside without question as he strode through the entrance, leaving crimson footprints on the marble floor.
His presence filled the elegant foyer with an energy that made the air itself seem to vibrate, the scent of violence and death clinging to him like a second skin.
The blood was still fresh, dark stains across his white shirt and jacket sleeves, spattered across his face and hands.
“Where is she?” Devon’s voice carried the weight of barely leashed fury.
“Upstairs,” Sophia answered, appearing at the top of the marble staircase.
“Devon, you need to prepare yourself—”
“Is she hurt?” The question came out as a growl.
“Physically? No. But the transformation… it wasn’t gentle. Aleksander abandoned her immediately after turning her. She woke up alone, disoriented, with no guidance whatsoever.”
Devon’s hands clenched into fists. “Where?”
“In an alley near Montmarte. Luc found her just before she…”
Sophia paused, choosing her words carefully.
“Just before she made a mistake she would have regretted forever.”
The implication hit Devon like a physical blow. Kate had nearly killed someone. His Kate, who cried at sad movies, who saw the beauty in everything.
She had been driven to the edge of murder by the hunger Aleksander had forced on her.
“I want to see her,” Devon said, his voice deadly quiet.
“She’s in a bedroom on the second floor.” Sophia’s expression was gentle but firm.
“Devon, you must know, she’s not the same. The sensory overload, the hunger, the trauma of what was done to her, she’s struggling to process it all.”
Devon was already moving toward the stairs. “Which room?”
“Third door on the left. But Devon—”
He didn’t wait to hear the rest. Devon took the stairs three at a time, his enhanced hearing picking up the sound of running water before he reached the landing. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, steam escaping through the gap.
Devon took an unnecessary breath and then knocked softly.
“Kate?”
The water continued to run, but he heard a sharp gasp from inside the room.
“Kate, it’s me. It’s Devon.”
“Don’t.” Her voice was barely audible over the shower. “Don’t come in. Please.”
Devon’s heart shattered at the pain in her voice.
“Kincsem, I’m coming in. I need to see that you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay,” Kate’s whisper was almost inaudible.
“I’m not… I’m not me anymore.”
Devon pushed the door open gently with his hand. The bathroom was enveloped in steam. The mirror was fogged, and the air was thick with humidity. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, he could make out Kate’s silhouette.
She was sitting on the floor of the shower stall in her sodden clothes, her knees drawn up to her chest.
“Kate.” Her name came out as a broken plea.
She looked up at him then, and Devon’s heart instantly broke into a million pieces.
Her eyes —her once beautiful, expressive green eyes —were now the bright, unnatural blue of a vampire. They seemed to glow in the dim bathroom light, beautiful and terrible all at once. And utterly inhuman.
“It blocks out all the sounds,” she said quietly, as if explaining something perfectly reasonable. “The water. It’s like white noise. Everything else is so loud, Devon. I can hear conversations three floors down. I can hear people’s heartbeats. I can hear the blood moving through their veins.”
Devon didn’t hesitate.
He kicked off his bloody shoes and shrugged off his jacket. He stepped into the shower, still wearing the remainder of his clothes, and the hot water immediately soaked through his shirt and pants.
Kate looked up at him with those alien eyes, and he saw his own reflection in them. Saw the love and relief and absolute devastation written across his face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he knelt beside her on the shower floor. “I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Devon said fiercely, gathering her into his arms. “Nothing. This isn’t your fault.”
Kate collapsed against him, her body shaking with sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than grief.
“He took it away from us,” she said against his chest.
“Our choice. Everything we planned.”
Devon held her tighter, his own tears mixing with the shower spray.
She was right. They had talked about it, about the possibility of her becoming vampire someday, when she was ready, when they had decided together.
It was supposed to be a choice made out of love, a gift freely given and received. Instead, it had been stolen from them. Perverted into an act of violence and spite.
“I almost killed someone,” Kate whispered. “There was a homeless man, and I could smell his blood, and I wanted… God, Devon, I wanted to tear his throat open.”
“But you didn’t,” Devon said, his voice steady despite the rage building in his chest. “You didn’t, Kate. That’s what matters.”
“Only because Luc stopped me. If he hadn’t been there…” Kate pulled back to look at him, her eyes burning with tears she could no longer shed.
“What if I can’t control it? What if I become a monster?”
Devon cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that shouldn’t have been possible but were falling anyway.
“You are Kate Morgan. You chose to stay when you could have run. You stood before the Council and declared your love. That’s who you are. You are the strongest person I have ever known, human or vampire.”
“I don’t feel strong,” Kate said. “I feel broken.”
“Then we’ll put you back together,” Devon said simply.
“Piece by piece, day by day. We’ll learn to manage the hunger and control the enhanced senses. We’ll find a way to make this work.”
Kate searched his face, looking for something, doubt, perhaps, or the kind of pity that would destroy what remained of her dignity. Instead, she found only love.
The same love that had sustained them through captivity and freedom, through Elisabeta’s manipulations and the Council’s judgment.
“The maker bond,” she said suddenly, her voice small.
“Aleksander… I can feel him sometimes here.” She tapped her forehead. “In my head.”
Devon’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained gentle.
“We’ll find a way to block him out. Sophia knows techniques, mental shields that can be built and strengthened. He won’t have access to you forever.”
“Promise me,” Kate said, suddenly gripping his shirt with hands that were more powerful than they should be.
“Promise me that no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, you won’t give up on me.”
“Kate.” Devon’s voice was fierce with conviction. “I have waited centuries to find you. I have fought makers and councils and the very nature of what I am to be with you. Do you really think I’m going to let some petulant child with delusions of grandeur take you away from me now?”
Despite everything, Kate smiled, the first real smile since she’d woken up in that alley. “When you put it like that…”
“Besides,” Devon said, his own smile sharp with promise, “Aleksander made a critical error in judgment.”
“What’s that?”
“He assumed I would negotiate with him. He assumed I would trade territory or status or whatever else he wants in exchange for your safety.”
Devon’s eyes darkened, and for a moment Kate caught a glimpse of the predator that lived beneath his civilized exterior.
“He was wrong.”
Kate studied his face, seeing something there that was both comforting and terrifying.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find him,” Devon said simply. “And then I’m going to kill him.”
The water continued to fall around them, washing away the last traces of the people they had been before this night.
When they finally emerged from that shower, they would be different.
Changed not just by what had been done to them, but by their response to it. United in purpose, bound by something far more resilient than maker bonds or Council edicts.
God help anyone who stood between them and their justice.
But for now, they sat together on the shower floor holding each other, mourning what had been stolen.
The hunt would begin tomorrow night; tonight was for healing.
* * *
The Paris night had begun to fade, and Kate found herself drawn to the tall windows of Sophia’s guest room. The city lay below, with the Seine winding like a silver ribbon through the old streets. The lights of the bridges reflected on the dark water.
She stood in the bedroom, wrapped in a silk bathrobe, holding the fabric tightly against her chest. She looked toward the eastern horizon with a deep sense of loss.
Devon stepped out of the bathroom, his footfalls silent on the hardwood floor. He spotted her there, outlined against the large glass window, gazing at the sky with the same intensity she had once shown in her paintings.
“You should come away from the windows,” he said softly, but made no move to force her.
“Not yet,” Kate whispered. “I want to see it. One more time as… as what I am now.”
Devon understood. He came to stand behind her, his arms encircling her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
Together, they watched as the first pale fingers of dawn crept across the Parisian sky, painting the darkness in shades of rose and gold that reflected off the city’s ancient stones.
Kate’s breath caught as the light slowly spread over the horizon. She felt her body tense against his.
This was what she was really losing, not just the ability to walk in sunlight, but the basic human joy of greeting each new day.
“I used to paint the sunrise,” she said, her voice a mere whisper, tears silently falling down her face.
“For years, I would sit by my window and try to capture that moment when night becomes day. I thought I had forever to perfect it.”
Devon’s arms tightened around her as the sky continued to lighten over the City of Light. He could feel the approaching dawn like a weight in his bones, the ancient warning that sent his kind retreating into darkness to seek shelter.
But he stayed, holding her, sharing this moment of grief for the life that had been stolen from her.
“There will be other beauties,” he murmured into her hair.
“Moonlight on the Seine, the way shadows dance in candlelight, the silver gleam of stars over Notre-Dame. They will be different beauties, but no less profound.”
Kate leaned back against him, her fingers drawing patterns on his forearms with light, deliberate touches that would have broken human bone.
“Will I miss it less, over time?”
“The ache will change,” Devon said honestly. “It becomes part of you, like a scar that no longer hurts but never quite disappears.”
The first true ray of sunlight broke over the horizon, lighting up the spires of Sainte-Chapelle in the distance.
Kate drew in an unnecessary breath.
The light reminded her of everything that had been taken from her without her consent. Her hand pressed against the glass as if she could touch the warmth one last time.
“Kate,” Devon said gently, feeling the advancing power of the sun. “We need to go.”
She nodded, but didn’t move immediately. She stood there for one more heartbeat, memorizing the sight of dawn breaking over Paris, the city where her human life had truly ended, where her supernatural existence had begun in violence and fear.
Kate glanced back at the brightening windows, her face showing a sadness that made Devon’s heart ache.
The golden light spread, and he sensed his body’s instinctive need for shelter.
“Sleep now,” he whispered, pulling her toward the heavy curtains that would protect them from the dangerous light.
“When we wake, the night will be ours again.”
Kate curled against him on the bed, resting her head on his chest.
Outside, the sun took over the world they could no longer share. Blackout screens lowered into place.
The thin line of golden light beneath the curtains reminded her of the world that had been stolen from her and the choice that had been taken away.