Untamed (Vampire Awakenings, Book 3) (25 page)

Isabelle glanced at Stefan before nodding.
"There is a lot to explain," Ethan said. "When you're ready to
talk."

Jill nudged her but Emma was having trouble
finding her voice again. "We have a lot of questions," Jill told
him.

"You can never tell anyone about this, ever,"
Stefan said gruffly as Emma studied them with a fresh set of eyes.
They all exuded an aura of power that had always been there, and
that she'd picked up on before, but now she finally understood the
reason why. Isabelle's face was filled with anxiety as she watched
Emma. She was ringing her hands before her, a gesture Emma never
thought she'd see the normally confidant woman make.

"Who would believe us even if we did tell
someone?" Mandy asked.

"There are people that would," Stefan told
her. "People that would like nothing more than to see all of us
dead."

Emma's eyes flew to Ethan, no matter how
upset and frightened she was right now, the last thing in the world
she wanted was to see him hurt, in
any
way, and she especially didn't want to be the
cause of it. But then, she'd already caused him to be hurt last
night when Tristan and his friends attacked them. She took a step
toward him before catching herself and stopping near the
stairs.

"No one will know, anything," Emma promised.
She had to force herself to look away from Ethan before she started
to cry and forgot all about the fact that he had kept such a huge
thing from her. But she supposed it really wasn't a first date
conversation to have. She didn't see how anyone could work the
whole, 'hey, by the way I'm a vampire,' talk in between the, 'what
was your major,' and 'what's your favorite color,' conversation
topics?

Ethan exchanged a look with Isabelle and
Stefan before turning his attention back to the others. He didn't
know if that was going to be enough, but for now it would have to
do. He could change Jill and Mandy's memories on his own; he knew
he would only alienate Emma even further if he did though. It would
also have to be done relatively soon, if it went past a week he
wasn't certain he, or Stefan, could still do it. He studied Jill
and Mandy, two women he barely knew but they now had his and his
family's future, in their hands. That thought didn't sit well with
him but to be fair, his family was the only protection that Jill
and Mandy had against Tristan and his friends. All of their lives
depended on each other and they were all going to have to count on
each other to get through this.

"Can we come in?" Ethan inquired.

"I don't think we could stop any of you, not
after what we witnessed last night," Emma replied.

"Isabelle and Stefan haven't been invited in
yet," he reminded her. "You may not own the home but you're
residing here right now and that's all that matters."

Emma's mind flashed back to the first morning
Ethan had arrived here and Jill had so cheerfully invited him
inside. Jill had no way of knowing then that she was inviting in
someone with the ability to kill them. She could feel Jill and
Mandy's eyes on her as she studied Ethan, Isabelle, and Stefan.
They hadn't known before, but they knew now, and she simply
couldn't allow them into this house until she had a better idea of
what was going on.

"No, I'm sorry, but no," she said. "We don't
know any of you, not really. Jill and Mandy..." She hated the tears
that burned her eyes but she refused to shed them as she
unwaveringly met Ethan's troubled gaze. "I just can't."

A pang stabbed through Ethan's chest but he
bowed his head in agreement. "That's fine."

"Wait!" Isabelle stepped forward but Ethan
took hold of her arm and held her back. They stared defiantly at
each other for a minute before Ethan shook his head. Isabelle's
shoulders slumped and she gave Emma a longing look. Stefan pulled
her away from her brother; Isabelle glanced back at Emma as she
reluctantly allowed herself to be removed from the doorway.

"If you need anything, anything at all, we'll
be outside." Ethan turned around and left the doorway before Emma
could respond.

"It's almost like having two stalkers," she
muttered.

Jill rested her hand on her shoulder. "At
least one of them wants to keep you alive."

Emma released a harsh laugh. "I guess that's
the silver lining in all of this."

"There should always be one," Jill said.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep,
unless you want me to wait for the new door. It's my fault after
all."

"It's not your fault and I'll handle the
door," Mandy offered. "I'm still pretty wired anyway."

Emma turned away from her friends. All she
could think about was lying down and getting some sleep, though she
had a feeling sleep was going to be difficult to come by.

The room was enshrouded in darkness when she
woke sometime later. Memories filtered back over her and it took
all she had not to groan and bury her head under her pillow.
"Shit."

She stared at the lengthening shadows moving
across her walls and tried to decide if she really wanted to get
out of bed right now. The shock, anger, and horror over what had
happened last night had faded away while she'd been sleeping and
now all she felt was a deep ache in her chest.

She'd been falling in love with him, she'd
found a freedom with him that she'd never known could exist and now
she was left only with the hollow shell of those feelings. In his
arms she hadn't felt inadequate and trapped, she'd felt strong and
cherished, but it had all been a lie.

Or had it? Everyone had their secrets, she
had revealed all of hers to him, but some secrets were more
difficult than others to reveal, and this had been one big ass
secret.

Emma shook her head and threw back the sheet
she had become entangled in. She was really hoping a shower would
clear her head and ease the growing anguish in her chest but she
doubted it. Stepping beneath the stinging spray of the shower, she
stayed under the warm water for a good half an hour before finally
turning it off.

Emerging from the shower, she wrapped a towel
around her hair and another around herself. She returned to the
room and was grasping for the lamp on the bureau when a small noise
caught her attention. Her hand froze, her gaze darted around the
room but she couldn't see much through the dark. Even still, her
breath was trapped in her lungs as she continued to search the
room.

Then she heard it again. Grabbing hold of the
lamp, she spun to her right as something came at her from the
shadows. Whatever it was, it was crouched low and moving with far
more speed than she had thought possible for something so small.
And then it was rising up, growing taller as it continued to come
at her.

A strangled cry escaped her; the plug ripped
from the wall as she swung the lamp up with all of her might. The
force of it wrenched her wrist in its joint as the lamp cracked in
half and part of it toppled to the floor. Her attacker was knocked
off balance by the force of the blow, but even still their hands
entangled with the towel and nearly ripped it away from her. She
lifted what remained of the lamp and crashed it down onto the
person's back. The second blow sent the lamp tumbling from her
numbed fingers as the air rushed out of her attacker.

The person had fallen in the direction of the
other door to her room; there was no way she would make it to it
without being caught by them. She grabbed hold of the top of the
towel as she turned toward the French doors that opened onto the
balcony.

The towel in her hair tumbled away as she
dashed around the rocking chair in the corner. She picked the chair
up and heaved it blindly behind her in an attempt to dissuade her
pursuer. Her hands fumbled over the latches on the French doors but
she realized too late that the locks she had set earlier weren't in
place. She had just managed to fling the door open when a hand
tangled in her hair and her head was jerked cruelly back.

Involuntary tears filled her eyes as her neck
was twisted to the side and agony lanced through her brutalized
muscles. "Tristan wants to have a talk," a man hissed in her
ear.

Panic tore through her to push away the pain.
Fighting like a wildcat she began to kick backward at the person
holding her as her fingers tore at the hand in her hair. An arm
wrapped around her waist, she was lifted off of her feet and
pressed against a burly chest. The man that held her wasn't tall;
in fact his head was right behind hers now, but he was strong.
Without thinking, she swung her head back and smashed her skull off
of the man's face.

A sickening crack accompanied his startled
yelp. That cry and the hot wash of liquid dripping down her back
was her reward for breaking his nose. With the man thrown off by
her attack, she pulled her arm forward and drove her elbow roughly
into his ribs. A grunt escaped him and his grip on her eased.

Emma threw herself forward with enough force
to tear herself free of the man's grasp. Off balance, she stumbled
and crashed into the glass of the French doors. Thankfully the
glass held up, but she bounced off of the doors like some kind of
manic rubber ball. Behind her, she could hear the heavy breathing
of the man coming at her. There wasn't going to be enough time for
her to get away from him.

A scream rose up and died in her throat when
the balcony doors burst open and a shadow rushed into the room.
Emma fell back and even though she couldn't see him, she
instinctively knew that it was Ethan in the room with them. A
startled scream filled the air as Ethan lifted the smaller man and
smashed him into the wall with enough force to crack the
plaster.

The loud snarl that tore from Ethan made the
hair on Emma's arms and neck stand up. She'd been about to go and
help him with the man, but she found her feet frozen in place. The
man squealed at the same time that a strange sucking sound filled
the room. She tried to deny it, but she knew what that sound was,
what it meant.

Nausea twisted her stomach; a dull thud
filled the room as the body hit the floor. Her hand shook as she
searched for the switch in the bathroom and turned the light back
on. Ethan's head swiveled toward her, his eyes were burning coals
in the dark that caressed his body. His gaze relentlessly held
hers; he seemed to almost be daring her to stay, to not run away
screaming from him as he wiped away the blood staining his mouth
with the back of his hand. Though her brain was screaming at her to
flee, she found that she couldn't. He had just killed for her and
as repulsed and petrified as she was, she couldn't turn her back on
him, he deserved better than that.

"Did he hurt you?" he demanded.

"No." She barely heard the word but she knew
that he had when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Emma..."

The door to her bedroom burst open and the
light turned on. Emma blinked against the glare that flooded over
her eyes. "What happened?" Jill cried.

Emma's eyes were drawn to the crumpled body
on the floor. Ethan moved swiftly to the side and grabbed the
blanket off the bed. He tossed it over the man lying on the floor,
but not before Emma caught a glimpse of the blood trailing from the
puncture wounds in the side of the man's twisted neck. Whatever
thoughts she had of the man possibly still being alive were doused
by his unseeing eyes.

"Who is that?" Jill demanded.

"The gardener," Mandy said in a flat voice.
"I saw him pruning the hibiscus just the other day. What is he
doing here?"

"He attacked me." Emma hugged the towel
tighter around her as she recalled that it was all she was wearing.
"He said that Tristan wanted to talk with me."

"Why would he do that and how does he know
Tristan?" Mandy's voice was stronger now but her eyes were round as
she stared back and forth at all of them.

"Tristan must have gotten to him," Ethan said
as he studied the blanket on the floor.

"Gotten to him and done
what
?" Emma asked.

"Taken control of his mind."

Emma's head spun but before she could think
of anything to say, a new noise drew her attention to the French
doors as Isabelle and Stefan appeared on the balcony. She tugged
the towel closer around her but Ethan stepped to the side, grabbed
the sheet from her bed, and wrapped it firmly around her.

"You can do that?" she inquired as she tilted
her head to look up at him. His eyes were still red as they met
hers, a muscle twitched in his cheek and his jaw was set so firmly
that she could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

He had to fight the urge to crush her against
him and never let her go. Instead, he forced himself to release her
and drop his hands back to his sides. He had just killed a man,
he'd thought that would have eased some of the primal urge to
destroy and create mayhem that had always haunted him, but it
hadn't. It had only shown him what he was missing as the life force
of the man pulsed through his veins and the taste of the warm blood
lingered on his lips. He wanted
more
. Touching her, if only for those brief
seconds, had helped to bring him some serenity though.

She had to let him into her life again, she
had to forgive him and start trusting him once more. As much as he
didn't like to admit it, Isabelle was right; he had to have Emma in
his life if he was going to stop killing. He wouldn't have her in
his life unless she was willing to be there though, and unless she
loved him too.

"Do what?" he asked as he'd forgotten what it
was they'd been talking about.

"Take control of people's minds?" she
inquired.

"Yes." He had started to turn away but her
brisk inhalation brought his attention back to her. His eyes
narrowed on her paler face and now trembling lower lip. "No Emma,
I've never done it to you."