Emmy nodded, her elbows on her knees, eyes closed because just looking at the puke on the floor might make her add to it.
Rhea stopped at a sink to wet the washcloth on her way back, and Emmy gratefully accepted it, and wiped her face and mouth with it. Rhea took it back to a sink, cleaned it under the water, and brought it back.
“Thank you.Fuck, I hate this.”
Chapter 27
The door opened, and Emmy recognized Zander’s footsteps without having to look up, but when she did, his expression was like a storm cloud.
“Let’s get you outside so you canchange.”
She shook her head. “There are only three things that, to my knowledge, can make me sick, and one of them will kill me if I try tochange.”
And might kill her even if she remained human, if she’d gotten enough of it, but she didn’t mention that part.
Her bowels twisted again, and emptied more disgusting liquid shit into the toilet. Emmy closed her eyes and felt her face go red-hot, but didn’t bother ordering Zander to leave. He’d do whatever he damned well pleased.
Thankfully, after that bout, she felt as if there was nothing left to puke up or shit out, and she said, “I think maybe I can shower, and if that works out okay…” she shook her head. “Fuck, I don’t know if I want to try to go back to our room and be that far from the toilet.”
“Let’s start with a shower, and then we’ll discuss logistics of where to put you,” Zander said.
“I’ll help her,” Rhea told him when he stepped closer, and thankfully, he nodded and stopped.
Rhea stripped her clothes off, helped Emmy up, and then physically supported her in the shower while Emmy got her feet, legs, and private parts clean with soap and the handheld showerhead.
As soon as the water was off, before Emmy could even consider drying off, Zander was there with a towel, wrapping it around her with clinical efficiency before she could protest.
“I can—” Emmy started, but her knees nearly buckled when Rhea stepped away.
Zander caught her, one arm sliding under her legs, the other around her back, cradling her to his chest. “No, you can’t.”
“Put me down.” Her voice came out weaker than she intended, and she hated being vulnerable in front of him. “I can walk.”
“Maybe for a few steps, but we’re going farther than that.”
Emmy wanted to fight, wanted to summon the strength to push out of his arms, but all she could do was curl into his chest, shaking.
Zander stepped into the hallway, and Emmy pressed her face against his shoulder, mortified. “Everyone’s going to see—”
“Everyone’s dealing with their own sick.” His voice softened. “And I’ll move fast enough they won’t get a good look.”
He wasn’t lying. The world blurred as he moved through the corridors at vampire speed. Emmy’s stomach protested the motion, and she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on not puking on him.
When they hit the spiral staircase, Zander went into the air and then down, arrowing past floor after floor, descending into the deepest level, to his private suite.
“No,” she told him. “This isn’t …no. I need my room. My people. I can’t be all the way down here.”
“Your bed is at least a hundred steps to a toilet. I can put you in a bed fifteen steps away from one.” He sighed. “Please don’t fight me on this. I need to be certain you’re safe, and I need Spencer looking after you when I can’t be here.”
He nodded to a security guard, held his palm to a scanner, and the door opened automatically.
The sitting room they entered was masculine and spare, all dark wood and stone, but he didn’t pause, carrying her straight through to the bedroom.
The bed was massive, clearly custom-made, with black sheets. Zander set her down on the edge with surprising gentleness, keeping one hand on her shoulder until he was certain she wouldn’t topple over.
“Bathroom’s there.” He pointed to a door less than eight feet away. “You need to go now?”
Emmy shook her head, though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Her body felt like it might betray her at any second.
