I missed the ability to feel the cold. Sleep was almost impossible tonight, even though sleep was the only inevitable thing I could rely on these days.
I could feel myself getting irritable to the point of rage burning up through me, but I had to control it. Phasing right now would would be disastrous. My Mother would panic. My Father would call everybody on the Res and it would be like every night last week where they all looked at me with pitiful eyes and pained expressions. I swear if I have to see all those faces again, all the chaos and the whispers...I would leave on 4 legs. Quickly.
The minutes seemed to drag by as a tossed and turned, but the hour was Godly and I couldn't believe how long I'd laid here, pointlessly trying to lose myself in unconsciousness. I wasn't even sure that I was tired or if I ever would really be tired again, so I kicked off my covers and grimaced as I realized they were soaked in sweat.I really, really did miss being cold.
The old pine floorboards creaked more than normal as I jumped out of my bed and into the thick darkness toward the door. It's strange, I thought to myself,
how I'd lived here my whole life, yet I'd never felt more like a stranger in my own home than I did right now.
My family, we used to be so comfortable around each other. We shared this common ground where we could do and say anything, yet still have the up most respect for one another. We were always the 'Cool' guys on the reservation, all the families and kids wanted to come to our place for the parties. We weren't like other families here, and people liked that. I liked it. Now, every thing's different. I could feel the heat of anger come up through me as I relived happy memories, so I stopped and tiptoed down from my loft conversion and fought my way through the dark.
I couldn't figure out what hit me first. The humming of voices bustling around me, or the light that stung my eyes. I froze for a moment, confused and a little delirious like I had just awoken. What time was it? Creeping through the dark, I peered into my mother and father's room and instantly saw the neon red digits on the bed side table. 2:45 AM. Just as it had felt. Turning back toward the yellow light downstairs, my legs took a few steps down so I could hear more clearly. Feeling a little apprehensive, I took a few more steps down, and perched on a stair.
"...I don't know, Billy." My mother's slight and gentle voice croaked. "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm worried."
"I understand, Dena. We all want what's best for Claudia. But what about La Push?"
"Why is it happening like this?" Dena pleaded. I could picture her defenseless face as she spoke. "She must feel so alone."
"We can't be sure, sweetheart." I recognized my father's voice immediately. "I don't think there's any rhyme or reason to it."
"But what do we tell her? She says she understands but she doesn't, John. How could she, if we as her elders don't understand?"
I could hear a light sob break in my mothers voice, and chairs scraping along the wooden kitchen floor. I could picture what was happening right now, in my family Kitchen. My Father's helpless face, sliding his kitchen chair across to my Mom, and putting his loving arms around her as she sobbed. It was a familiar picture,
but one I rarely saw up until two weeks ago.
I wish I could say "it had been a normal day", but it wasn't. I had woke in the morning with a terrible fever, one that filled me with genuine fear that I might burst into a ball of flames. I had never felt a heat like it before. My Mother had crept in, noticing that it was unusual for me not to be bounding about outside on a rare Sunny day in Forks. I told her I had a fever, and her motherly instincts took over instantly.
"I'll get you a cold towel." She smiled sympathetically, and returned with a moist flannel rolled up to lay on my head.
"Thank you." I muttered. Dena waited a moment, half wondering if I'd take the flannel from her, but I felt too unwell to move, so sheepishly approached me and bent down beside my head. Just as her hand placed the towel on my forehead, she hissed a gasp which shook me. I looked over, only to notice her wide eyes which were distorted by a wall of steam. I took my hand to the towel which felt blissfully cold, and the hissing came again. I stared at the condensation steaming off of it.
"John..." Dena was pressed against my bedroom wall, palms glued to it. "John you need to come up here. Now!"
"Mom...why is the towel steaming?" I didn't feel panicked. I felt awful, and now confused. "What did you put on it?" I laughed a little. It wouldn't be the first time Dena had had a dizzy moment. She was clumsy, in an endearing way. When I was 5, I got the chicken pox, and she covered me in toothpaste instead of Sudocrem.
"What's going on?" My father's sturdy figure strode in, eyebrows furrowed. He wore his long, black hair in a pony tail with a leather hat. He must be riding today, I thought.
"Her head." Dena stammered. "Feel her head." My Dad frowned and looked at me with his slight smile gathering in his face.
"Her head?" he asked, bounding over to me, hand out ready. He too, bent to my level, and with a rough, yet gentle palm he placed his hand on my forehead. I watched as his face turned from bemused to concerned and quickly snapped his hand away. He turned and looked at my Mom, who was still frozen against my wall.
"It's just a fever." I said to her, provoking my dad to look back at me. "What's the fuss?"
"Yeah." My dad's expression seemed to change back forcefully. "Just a fever." he agreed, turning back to prize my mother from the wall. "Rest up, honey. We'll get you some...medicine." He said the last word quickly like he'd plucked it out of thin air. He and my mom walked out of the door, whispering down my bedroom stairs.
"It can't be. We need to call Billy."
"I'm sure it's not what you think, Dena."
"John...think about it. A coven of cold ones move into the profanity a few months ago, and now our daughter has a raging fever?"
Their whispering made me furious. An overwhelming state of fizzing, venomous rage poured over me and it was like it was ripping the muscle from my bones. The heat that scorched my skin suddenly felt normal, and I felt a rumble of vocal fury almost roar out of my mouth. I heard footsteps running forcefully to me. Everything went black after that.
I heard the front door click closed which shook me from the memory. The chairs scraped against the floor again, and I heard another voice join the loud whispers.
The male voice asked after me, sounding breathless.
"Yeah, she's holding up well." My father answered. "Which is what is worrying us."
"Would you like a drink, Harry?" Dena asked. "Tea?"
"No, I'm fine thanks." Harry Clearwater, his voice was familiar now. "So do we know anymore?"
"Naw." Billy's gruff voice replied. "I was just telling John & Dena that I always thought it would be Jake. The first one I mean." Jacob Black, I scoffed quietly. Why on earth would he think that? The kid's only 15.
"Would it be awful if I wished you were right?" My mother sighed.
"Not at all." Billy answered. "Jacob is the grandson of the descendant. I don't understand how Claudia has beaten any of them to it."
"It's not a race, Billy. This wasn't supposed to happen to any of our kids. The Cullen's weren't supposed to come back."
Silence invaded the conversation. There was that name again. The Cullen's. Apparently it was in my blood to grimace at the name, but I felt nothing. This "family"
were supposed to be an arch enemy of mine, whether I knew it or not, but I felt nothing towards them. Of course, I was curious. A vampire coven, living amongst humans surviving on the blood of animals..who wouldn't want to see that? But as far as anger, or enemies...nothing.
"Yes well..." Billy said. "We have no power over that. They're here, and the treaty is as valid as it was then, but I can't help but feel this is a sign of things to come."
"Ridiculous." My mother scorned. "Billy, I know you're trying to be supportive but I cannot just sit back and watch Claudia self destruct."
Part of me wanted to just slip back into my room, pretending this wasn't happening. But I was angry now and I couldn't stop myself from sliding down the banister of the stairs and jumping effortlessly over the balcony and on to the kitchen floor from a 10 foot height. My mother startled and dropped her tea cup, smashing it all over the floor.
"Speaking of self district..." I laughed.
"Claudia." My Father stood up. I couldn't help but feel a bit smug at my element of surprise. It felt super-human, and I liked it.
"I couldn't quite hear you all talking about me clear enough from the stairs." I snapped, almost dancing over the broken china and to the other side of the room.
"So I thought I'd come down so you didn't have to whisper."
Billy Black wheeled himself out from under the table. "We're concerned about you."
"Oh you aren't!" I laughed again. "You're just pissed I beat your boys to the post."
"Claudia, don't be rude." Dena had picked up the broken china, and dusted her hands of it into the bin.
"I'm fine. I've told you a thousand time's I'm fine so why are you all having secret meetings about me?"
"I don't believe you." Harry Clearwater said matte of factly. "Anyone would struggle to adjust to this. You don't have to pretend."
"Please!" I rolled my eyes. "I'm strong. I can handle this. I'm not going to go around telling every Tom, Dick and Jacob..." I emphasized on his name. "Who,
by the way, is too dumb to even notice any thing's wrong anyways."
"Jacob." Billy eyeballed me angrily. "Jacob has strong instincts. He knows where his roots lie, and if he were in your shoes, he'd be the protection we need from them."
"The Cullen's." I smiled. Everybody watched the body language between Billy and I, letting us have it out. "You said yourself they're no threat to us! They feed on animals!" I laughed in my head, trying not to let my mouth twitch.
"I can't help but feel you don't understand." Billy shook his head. "They've been here for almost a year, and nothing has happened. Your changing is telling me it's for a reason."
"Reason.."
"Yes." Billy replied, looking at me gravely. "You see, we only know the way this...works.." He chose his words carefully. "..from the legends. The legends say that this happens when danger is on the horizon."
What danger? I stifled a laugh again. I really did find it all very hilarious. How terrifying these creatures must be..they preyed on Elk. Pffft.
"What danger could there be?" I tried to be serious. "You mean there could be more of them?"
"Yes." Billy stated like it was obvious. "Possibly. I refuse to believe this is completely random." He now addressed my parents. "Claudia needs nurturing, what she has is a gift."
My mom groaned and rubbed her face with her worn hands. My mouth twitched to speak but I felt the tension shift, and willed somebody else to talk. Staring around at all the faces, I started to see why this midnight meeting had taken place. They really believed there was danger coming. I noticed how my father, Harry & Billy looked at me. I knew that look, not from personal experiences but from movies and books. The kind of look Lois Lane gave to superman when he saved her life for the millionth time. The kind of look a weak, vulnerable victim gives to their Saviour. I shuddered, thinking that only a few weeks ago, I'd looked at my father the very same way.