Emma shook her head and threw back the sheet she’d become entangled in. She was 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 the lamp, she spun to her right as something came at her from the shadows. Whatever it was, it crouched low and moved with far more speed than she’d thought possible for something so small. And then it was rising, 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 light 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 could reach it without being caught. She grabbed the top of the towel as she turned toward the French doors opening 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 to dissuade her pursuer. Her hands fumbled over the latches on the French doors, but she realized too late the locks she’d set earlier weren't in place. She 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 twisted to the side and agony lanced through her brutalized muscles.
"Tristan wants to talk," a man hissed in her ear.
Panic tore through her to push away the pain. Fighting like a wildcat, she kicked backward at the person holding her, and her fingers tore at the hand in her hair. An arm wrapped around her waist; she was lifted off her feet and pressed against a burly chest. The man holding her wasn't tall; his head was right behind hers now, but he was strong. Without thinking, she swung her head back and smashed her skull off 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 the doors like a 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 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 it was Ethan 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 rise. 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 a strange sucking sound filled the room. She tried to deny it, but she knew what the 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 caressing his body.
His gaze relentlessly held hers; he seemed almost to be daring her not to 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 she couldn't. He 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 he had when his eyes closed and took a deep breath.
"Emma!" Mandy shouted.
The door to her bedroom burst open, and the light turned on. Emma blinked against the glare.
"What happened?" Jill cried.
The crumpled body on the floor drew Emma’s eyes. 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
