Ethan crossed his arms and watched the two men bag the body. Even from this distance he could hear the slow but steady beat of her heart. It was a gentle rhythm few humans would ever pick up, just a single beat every few minutes. His was much the same, except in times of stress or feeding. The lack of life flowing through one's body was one of the penalties of being a vampire.
He had no doubt the teenager would soon rise. Though it usually took a minimum of forty-eight hours, Merry appeared to be taking the change faster than most. She'd probably wake with the onset of the new night.
He should have killed her. What on earth had possessed him to make such a rash promise? All too often he had witnessed the bloody rampages of the newly turned. When the depth of malice and hate were as great as those he sensed in Merry, it was sheer madness to let them live. But he'd given his word to Shirley, and he intended to keep it.
Whatever the consequences.
