It was loud. Coinciding voices, thumping music, and laughter created a roar in his ears. But the loudest sound was the heartbeats. Heartbeats, dozens of them pulsed to their own individual rhythms alongside to the music. Hot, warm bodies were packed together, grinding and gyrating and moving together in the dark room illuminated by flashing lights and variously placed lights. Emmett sat at the bar, scanning his eyes over a sea of faces, nursing a drink he would not sample. He searched apathetically but purposefully. A long-haired brunette was dancing with a tall blonde man not too far from him, blue eyes flashing in the light as she caught his gaze, rocking her body against her partner's. No. The man behind the bar was looking him over slowly, light brown eyes lighting up. Emmett wasn't waiting for his shift to end. A burst of laughter caught his attention and he looked over to a small table surrounded by three women; a black-haired woman he quickly dismissed, a shorter, lighter-haired woman with big hazel eyes and a tall, platinum blonde woman with deep brown eyes. Her eyes flickered to him then over him, a small smile touching her lips as she looked back to her friends and 'nonchalantly' ignored the watchful eyes of the men around her moving over her body.

He had her. Not even a challenge.

It didn't take very long. A few well-placed words and a smile here and there and he was being pushed against a wall of a cramped storage closet as a warm, slim body pressed almost uncomfortably close. Artificial endearments fell from artificially painted lips and hands moved over his body hungrily, running though his hair, slipping under his shirt, unbuttoning his jeans. He hadn't been particularly paying attention as she spoke to him but he knew enough to recall her name. Josephine. He hadn't heard that one in a while, less common these days.

"You're beautiful Em."

Emmett looked down at the sound of her low voice, meant to be seductive and erotic but just came out overeager. "Don't call me that."

"Sure thing."

Lips grinned up at him as a mouth swallowed his cock whole. He exhaled and leaned his head against the shelf behind him. He could still clearly hear the music and people outside the tiny room. He was thirsty, the burn in his throat becoming insistent and annoying and he checked his watch. He still had some time to kill. He pulled her off after a few moments. She stood and Emmett reversed their positions, making her face away from him. Her heart was racing, the scent of arousal pouring off her in waves from beneath her scent and the unappealing chemical smell of her perfume. He slipped his hands up her creamy thighs and pulled down the bits of fabric that were her underwear. Her hips pushed back as he slipped into her in one smooth motion and she gasped loudly. "Oh!"

The disappointment was expected. His body reacted naturally, his cock swelled and pulsed, his heated skin tingled as his body climbed higher and higher towards orgasm but there was nothing . . . more. Josephine's cries and moans and 'so fucking good's were getting louder and Emmett wished she would just be quiet. He leaned in to nuzzle the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. She smelled a bit like pears and nutmeg and he ran his tongue lazily over her pulse as she came. He held her waist to steady her as he continued to thrust. Josephine didn't feel right, none of them ever did. The bodies always felt wrong, the lips and touches and sex, none of it was ever right, not completely, though if he was lucky he'd find one that didn't feel as wrong. This was not one of those moments. The enjoyment of an act he had always reveled in had been skewed, altered, giving physical gratification while still leaving him jaded and aloof. The warm tickle at the base of his spine and the tightening in his loins increased. Bravura emerald green eyes flashed in his mind's eye suddenly, just as he climaxed and he swore angrily. "Fuck. Fuck!"

Emmett barely stopped himself from punching a hole through the wall. He reigned in his temper, shoving it down as he took an unneeded breath. Josephine was breathing heavily, regaining her bearings and hadn't noticed his moment of ire. He backed away and pulled his pants back into place. He ran a hand through his curls and Josephine looked at him. He studied her for a moment before frowning lightly.

"We should do that again sometime. Want to give me your number?"

"No."

Her expression shifted to confusion and slight offence, unused to the sudden rejection. "And why not?"

"Well sweetheart, you kind of annoy me and I just don't see you worth genuinely interacting with again," he adjusted his jacket, turning for the door as he looked back at her. "And to be completely honest Josephine, you couldn't handle me." Her face turned outraged and Emmett left the room before she could begin screeching at him. He slipped through the packed club like a phantom and made his way down the street to the black Mercedes at the end of the block. He checked his watch again as he drove through the city of Santa Fe. Emmett had only been to New Mexico once but he was here only for the night, not to enjoy the scenery. He stopped across the street of a dark, empty building and parked. He flashed across the street and leaped to the top of the four story building, stilling as he waited.

"Sean Anders," he whispered to himself, beginning his ritual. Registered sex offender, wanted on several unsolved pedophilia cases and three assault charges. Accused of murdering a twelve year old girl and her babysitter eight years ago. Charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. He didn't recite the man's crimes to justify himself, Emmett didn't give a shit, but he wanted to know who he was hunting. With animals it didn't really matter, they followed the natural order they had ingrained into their DNA, people though, were capable of monstrosities even he wouldn't dare commit and that was where the fun of it came. A monster meeting and even scarier predator. Although not all his victims had neat little records of their crimes like this one. He could hear the heartbeat from blocks away. When the man appeared, he was walking with his hands laden with plastic grocery bags. Emmett waited until he turned into the alleyway before jumping down to land a little ways away from him. Sean startled, dark eyes going wide as saucers. He was about thirty-five with thinning dark hair that made him seem older than he really was. He was of average height, unremarkable features, someone no one would look twice at. Emmett recognized the look of a monster though. It was in the eyes.

"What in the hell . . .?"

He tilted his head curiously. "Sean, right?"

"How did—who are you?"

Emmett stepped forward as his teeth lengthened and his own monster rose to the surface, excited for a hunt. The plastic bags hit the asphalt and Sean screamed in horror, stumbling away. "What are you?! Please! D-don't kill me!"

It was funny how he begged for his life. Who was he to beg for mercy? What made this sniveling, sack of meat and shit think he deserved to live more than anyone else? He certainly wasn't what one would call an honorable man. Sean ran and Emmett let him. He ran down the alleyway, heart thudding panicked beats in his chest, forcing his blood to pump faster as adrenaline was released throughout his system. Emmett walked through the shadows, watching his every move. A lot of them ran, or tried to anyway, and others just panicked, too frozen to stumble more than a few feet. Emmett flashed in front of the pale man and slammed him against the wall of the brick building he'd been living in for the past few months, well, not after tonight. Bones cracked at the force of the impact against the solid wall and Sean gasped painfully, right lung beginning to collapse. The smell of his fear was dousing his body as his blood pumped quickly. Emmett ripped into his throat and drank deeply. The hot lifeblood slid down his throat smoothly and collected into a warm pool in his belly. His body thrummed with energy and he growled as he dropped the lifeless corpse on the ground. He licked his lips and slipped his hand into his jeans, fingering the locket burning a hole in his pocket. He looked down at himself, his neck and shirt covered in blood. Emmett returned to the Mercedes and drove a few miles to an out-of-the-way motel. He had purchased a room for this very reason, he'd always been a messy eater, never bothering to be neat while he took down his prey and walking around covered in blood was apparently frowned upon in society. Emmett stripped as he entered the room with its walls overlaid in outdated wallpaper and shabby dark carpet. It was clean however, the old furniture neat and tidied. Once he was under the hot spray of the shower, Emmett allowed his body to relax a bit. The water ran red and he frowned as his blood high diminished and that persistent, cool numbness filled his core once again.

This, everything, had become so . . . tedious. The feeding, the sex, they didn't have the same effects anymore. It was all prosaic and insipid. Mostly they were distractions and kept his mind busy enough to not focus on the hollow void in him and it had been working exceptionally well, really, but now he was just going through the motions. Considering what he was he thought the distractions would have worked for a lot longer than this. Frustration and anger churned lowly in his foundation. The thought of putting an end to his eternal life crossed his mind every day. All he needed was fire and lots of it, simple enough to do. He could have done it thousands of times over by now. These thoughts crossed his mind often and each time he religiously told himself no. He couldn't put his family through that. But more so, he wouldn't insult her memory that way.

She had fought for her life.

She had fought for his too.

Emmett wasn't going to make that mean nothing, no matter what it did to him. He would let her go, fine, but that was the one thing he had to keep himself from falling over the edge of that void. His family had asked him to stay and he did at first. He stayed, listening to the sound of Rowan dying a few doors down, trying to hold his sanity together. Rowan had been it for him, the final straw, and his last hope that his Mate was still alive. Emmett had endured a lot: the painful emptiness, the saddened, sympathetic looks on his family's faces, but above all he had to look at Nolan. Nolan, Emmett loved him like a brother but he couldn't stand looking at him. It hurt, it hurt like hell. He simply looked too much like her; they had the same eye shape, the same pitch black hair, the same cheekbones and tiny little wrinkle that appeared between their brows when they were concentrating. He couldn't take it. It was torture. He spent the weeks before Rowan's death in Anala's bedroom, desperately holding on to the last shred of faith he had left when he wasn't engrossed in learning all he could from Zain. He'd slip in the door and stand against the wall next to it, just inhaling her scent and watching the shadows shift and change as the day passed. He'd been too afraid to touch anything, unwilling to aid in her scent fading any more than it already slowly was and sometimes he swore he could almost hear her, feel her touch him. But once the blonde Vayar died Emmett lost that hope. His mate was dead. After that he only stayed long enough to be able to control his gift, unable to endure the maddening pain he'd been slowly drowning in. Carlisle gave him the keys to his car silently and Emmett drove as fast and as far as he could and buried his pain behind his true nature, content to stay that way.

Emmett exited the tiny shower and dried off, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Scarlet eyes stared back at him flatly from a pale, perfect face. A cold mask. Inhuman. Emmett grinned at the irony of it all. He dressed quickly as he packed up his belongings and quickly slipped in a pair of dark contacts. He exited the room and descended the steps to the parking lot. He threw his bag in the trunk of his car and headed for the office to check out. He stopped momentarily. The girl behind the desk faced away from him, long dark brown hair falling nearly to her waist in smooth waves. She turned and smiled shyly at him, friendly green-blue eyes meeting his. A sting of pain lodged itself in his chest.

"Leaving already?" She was young, barely sixteen by the look of her.

Emmett recovered himself. "Yeah, I've got a long drive ahead."

The back door opened and an older man stepped out, a box in his hands. The man looked to his daughter and Emmett placed his key on the counter and signed the slip of paper she handed him. The two waved him out and minutes later he was speeding onto the highway. He didn't have a location in mind yet, debating if he would drive to another state or leave the country again all together. Emmett picked out the irksome contacts and tossed them out the window. He had become good at making his mind blank but sometimes, sometimes thoughts slipped through, memories and fantasies of the woman who had come into his life like a glowing beacon then was taken from him, all in the same short year. He could almost feel a warm hand running down his back, soft lips murmuring sweet nothings in his ears and images of green and smiles and—Emmett shut his thoughts away, not wanting to see anything more as he sped down the road.