She tried to keep her eyes on Ethan, tried to remind herself why she was doing this, but everything around her blurred. She swore someone was using a jackhammer against the inside of her skull as her head felt like it was going to explode. Her now beating heart felt like it was twisting and changing within her ribcage as if it were tearing free of her arteries and becoming something else. A scream built within her, but she was unable to unclench her teeth to release it.
Her body jerked with so much force a bone in her foot broke with a loud crack when it slammed against the floor. Ethan had never felt so helpless in his life, but he had no idea what to do to make it any better.
"It won't last much longer, and she will get through it," Stefan assured him as he knelt by Ethan's side.
Brian, Ian, and Aiden appeared in the doorway of the house. Blood streaked their faces and splattered their clothes, but they appeared unharmed as they stepped over two of the bodies lying on the floor. Jill had retreated to the couch; tears streamed down her face as she took in the carnage around her. He wanted to hate the girl, but he knew none of this was her fault, and she looked completely heartbroken as she gazed helplessly at Emma.
Brian bent down, seized Tristan's hair, and lifted his head from the floor. His eyebrow rose as he stared at the bulging eyes and twisted mouth. "We have to get this cleaned up."
Aiden looked around the house. "I don't think there is any way to clean this up."
Ethan glanced at the red-stained walls, furniture, and carpet; there was little of the original color to be found beneath the blood splattered everywhere. It looked like a macabre funhouse.
"Burn it," he said flatly and turned away when Emma whimpered and dug into his arm with her nails again.
"That will make this job a lot easier," Brian said and dropped Tristan's head dismissively back on the floor. It landed with a dull thud, but Ethan was the only one who heard as Brian was already walking away from it.
Emma's back arched off the ground; her teeth clenched together as the muscles in her throat and jaw stood out. Sweat beaded across her forehead and ran down her face; her face became florid as a scream tore from her throat. Ethan held her in a way that ensured she wouldn't injure herself when her body collapsed again. She went completely still, but her heart continued to beat a solid rhythm in her chest.
"The worst is over," Stefan said. "We have to get her out of here, now."
Ethan was careful with Emma's broken foot, a foot that would most likely heal by the time she woke again as he gathered her into his arms and lifted her. Her head fell against his shoulder; her glazed eyes fluttered open to meet his before drifting closed again. He had to get her somewhere safe, somewhere not covered in blood and remains. Moving as swiftly as possible, he fled the house and left the others behind to deal with the cleanup.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emma didn't move as she stared around the room, a room far brighter and clearer than she recalled it ever being. A room which held scents she never would have noticed before. The sweet smell of hibiscus was almost overwhelming as it drifted in through the open doors. There was a faint coppery scent she eventually identified as blood, and the enticing aroma of sex beneath it all.
It was all so amazing and overwhelming; she could barely breathe. There was so much to this world she'd never realized before, but she could see, hear, and smell it all now. It was the strangest gift she'd ever been given, and it was a gift that was hers, forever. Her gaze riveted on the colorful lamp by the bedside. She never imagined there were so many different shades of red, blue, and green in the world. She marveled at all of them.
"You're awake."
"I'm awake," she murmured in response to Ethan's words from behind her.
"How do you feel?"
She frowned as she contemplated the answer. "Different. Alive," she breathed. "If that makes any sense, considering I died."
His hand on her arm pulled her attention away from the lamp. She rolled over and smiled at him. He sat in the chair beside the bed, leaning toward her with his elbows on his knees. The awful, reddish black color had vanished from him; the blood covering him after the massacre was washed from his body.
There were lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn't been there yesterday. Stubble lined his jaw; his bloodshot eyes made it seem like he hadn't slept in a week but they were back to their normal green hue. She realized now that, though his eyes were mostly emerald in color, there were also flecks of forest green with a little bit of a lime color blended in.
Ethan rose from the chair and sat on the bed beside her when she pushed herself into a seated position. The swelling was already gone from her eyes and nose, her nose had realigned, and there was only a shadow of a bruise beneath her right eye. She still looked exhausted and a little battered, but she was moving, talking, breathing as she sat before him. He brushed her thick hair over her shoulder, but Tristan's bite marks had vanished during the change.
"Is Jill okay?" she asked anxiously.
"She's fine," he assured her as his thumb stroked over her cheek.
The love radiating from his eyes was almost more than she could stand as she leaned closer to him. He smelled of the ocean and
