Emerson had heard stories about what his father had told him. He'd always said that there was something primal and violent locked away in even the most composed of vampires. He referred to it as the Beast, something that wasn't them yet lived in them after they were turned. Something that couldn't be killed no matter how hard they tried. He'd never really bought that school of thought. A person could control everything if they wanted to, right? Still, he could see it in Ambrose as he thrashed about violently still.
Regardless, Emerson knew he'd have to snap him out of it sooner rather than later. The mental strain required to hold something so powerful wouldn't hold forever, after all. He had to get Ambrose back and quickly. His eyes and face were calm and composed, dignified even as he stood straight again to consider his options.
"You don't mean that," he informed him evenly as he thought. "You know that you don't mean that. You won't hurt her. It's not in you, no matter what anger you're letting speak for you right now. You love her, remember? Now. Wake up." The command was loud and echoed throughout the expansive study as Emerson reached his hand out, again not quite within the vampire's reach. He snapped his fingers, using magic to amplify the sound it created and resonate it in the vampire's eardrums. The heightened senses would hopefully be jolted out of the red he was seeing by the noise, but not enough to cause pain-induced frenzy.