She swallowed and her eyes darted around the room. “You were th-there. You... talked to it.”

“Yes.”

“You killed it?”

“Yes.”

She let out a ragged sob and sagged against the wall. “This is... not real. Is it?”

The trace of hope in her small voice was almost my undoing, but I had to be strong for her. “All of this is real. I killed it and now you’re safe.”

“Safe?”

“Yes.”

She put her head down and didn’t speak for several minutes. Finally, she stared at me and said, “It’s really gone?”

“It’s as dead as it can be. It’s not coming back.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and tears spilled down her cheeks. “Thank you.”

I sat there helplessly as she cried. I wanted to go to her, but I was afraid of startling her and undoing the progress we’d made. After several minutes, she used her sleeves to wipe her face and looked at me with less fear in her eyes.

My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and I laughed softly. “I’m starving. I’m going to ask one of my friends to bring me some breakfast. Would you like to join me?”

Her eyes immediately went to the tray of cold food Jordan had left on the nightstand. She stared at it helplessly, and I realized she hadn’t eaten food in many years.

She smiled tremulously, and my chest constricted. Jordan had once called me a waif, but Emma fit that description perfectly. She was at least two inches shorter than me and slender, and her complexion was pale because it hadn’t seen the sun in many years. But even as her sad brown eyes tugged at my heart, I could see strength in her. The fact that she was smiling and speaking to me coherently after the trauma she’d been through was evidence of that.

Jordan came in with another tray bearing two plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast, which she placed on the bed beside me. I shifted to make room then patted the bed in invitation. Emma waited until Jordan had left the room again before she timidly joined me on the bed. Her trust in me after all she’d been through was humbling.

At first, she toyed with her eggs, but after a few minutes she began to nibble on a wedge of toast. By the time I was finished she had eaten two pieces of toast, a good start for someone who hadn’t eaten in a very long time.

Neither of us spoke while we ate, but I could sense her becoming more at ease with me. Sometime during the meal, the others left us alone and Emma looked relaxed for the first time. When we were done, I placed the tray on a small table in the hallway and went back to sit with her.

After a lengthy silence she whispered, “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“You didn’t do those things, Emma. The demon did.”

“It was my hands, my body.”

I reached over and took one of her cold hands in mind. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “The demon took control of your body. You are not responsible for anything it did. My uncle went through this too and he felt guilty even though he knows none of it was his fault.”

“Your uncle?” Hope filled her eyes and her voice. “There are others like me?”

“Just you and him so far. I’m still new at this.”

“Why? Why me?”

I let out a slow breath, trying to think of the best way to answer. “I wasn’t going to,” I said honestly. “I was trying to get the demon to tell me how it knew where we were. But then you showed me some memories and I wanted to help you.”

She stared at our joined hands. “My family, I can’t go back.”

“No.” It was best not to give her false hope when it came to them. Emma could never go back to her old life.

Her breath hitched. “Where will I go?”

“You can stay with me.” I squeezed her hand. “Once you feel better you can decide what you want to do. I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Emma. I have a feeling you and I are going to be great friends.”

She fell silent again, and I wondered for the hundredth time what was going through her mind. She had to be dealing with so much emotionally – things I couldn’t even fathom.

“Are you tired? Would you like me to leave you alone for a while?”

Her fingers gripped mine. “No, don’t go. Please.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

She released my hand and began tracing a seam in the comforter with her finger. Minutes passed before she spoke again. “The night it happened, I wasn’t even supposed to go out. There was a boy I liked and he had a band. I wanted to go with my friends to hear them play, but my parents said I couldn’t go. So I snuck out.” She sniffled and swiped a finger under her eye.

As she described the night she’d met Eli, I remembered my own encounter with him in Portland. The similarities between Emma’s experience and mine were eerie, and proved that Eli had definitely had a favorite type. We were both young brunettes and had a similar build. He’d stalked both of us at a club where we’d gone with friends to hear a band. Nikolas and my friends had saved me from a fate worse than death. Emma had not been so lucky.

Once Emma started to tell her story, it flowed out of her in a torrent of words and tears. Eli had played with her for a week before he had finally changed her. He’d chosen her because she was young and innocent-looking, and she would be the perfect lure for other teenagers. Even after she’d become a vampire, he’d used her for months until he finally tired of her. She didn’t go into graphic detail, thankfully, but I heard enough to imagine the horrors she’d gone through.