The Point of No Return

Chapter One: The Meadow

Just an idea I've had for a really long time. However, I had to wait until I got my copy of New Moon back. It's AU—what would have happened if the werewolves had been five minutes late? This is simply the introductory chapter, and much of it has been blended with chapter ten (also entitled The Meadow) of New Moon. I hope you like it!


Getting started took me longer than it would have taken Jacob. After I parked in the usual spot, I had to spend a good fifteen minutes studying the little needle on the compass face and the markings on the now worn map. When I was reasonably certain that I was following the right line of web, I set off into the woods.

The forest was full of life today, all the little creatures enjoying the momentary dryness. Somehow, though, even with the birds chirping and cawing, the insects buzzing noisily around my head, and the occasional scurry of the field mice through the shrubs, the forest seemed creepier today; it reminded me of my most recent nightmare. I knew it was just because I was alone, missing Jacob's carefree whistle and the sound of another pair of feet squishing across the damp ground.

The sense of unease grew stronger the deeper I got into the trees. Breathing started to get more difficult—not because of exertion, but because I was having trouble with the stupid hole in my chest again. I kept my arms tight around my torso and tried to banish the ache from my thoughts. I almost turned around, but I hated to waste the effort I'd already expended.

The rhythm of my footsteps started to numb my mind and my pain as I trudged on. My breathing evened out eventually, and I was glad I hadn't quit. I was getting better at this bushwhacking thing; I could tell I was faster.

I didn't realize how much more efficiently I was moving. I thought I'd covered maybe around four miles, and I wasn't even starting to look around for it yet. And then, with an abruptness that disoriented me, I stepped through a low arch made by two vine maples—pushing past the chest-high ferns—into the meadow.

It was the same place, of that I was instantly sure. I'd never seen another clearing so symmetrical. It was as perfectly round as if someone had intentionally created the flawless circle, tearing out the trees but leaving no evidence of the violence in the waving grass. To the east, I could hear the stream bubbling quietly.

The place wasn't nearly so stunning without the sunlight, but it was still very beautiful and serene. It was the wrong season for wildflowers; the ground was thick with tall grass that swayed in the light breeze like ripples across a lake.

It was the same place…but it didn't hold what I had been searching for.

The disappointment was nearly as instantaneous as the recognition. I sank down right where I was, kneeling there at the edge of the clearing, beginning to gasp.

What was the point in going any farther? Nothing lingered here. Nothing more than the memories that I could have called back whenever I wanted to, if I was ever willing to endure the corresponding pain—the pain that had me now, had me cold. There was nothing special about this place without him. I wasn't exactly sure what I'd hoped to feel here, but the meadow was empty of atmosphere, empty of everything, just like everywhere else. Just like my nightmares. My head swirled dizzily.

At least I'd come alone. I felt a rush of thankfulness as I realized that. If I'd discovered the meadow with Jacob…well, there was no way I could have disguised the abyss I was plunging into now. How could I have explained the way I was fracturing into pieces, the way I had to curl into a ball to keep the empty hole from tearing me apart? It was so much better that I didn't have an audience.

And I wouldn't have to explain to anyone why I was in such a hurry to leave, either. Jacob would have assumed, after going though so much trouble to locate the stupid place, I would want to spend more than a few seconds here. But I was already trying to find the strength to get to my feet again, forcing myself out of the ball so that I could escape. There was too much pain in this empty place to bear—I would crawl away if I had to.

How lucky I was that I was alone!

Alone. I repeated the word to myself with grim satisfaction as I wrenched myself to my feet despite the pain. At precisely that moment, a figure stepped out from the trees to the north, some thirty paces away.

A dizzying array of emotions shot through me in a second. The first was surprise; I was far from any trail here, and I didn't expect company. Then, as my eyes focused on the motionless figure, seeing the utter stillness, the pallid skin, a rush of piercing hope rocked through me. I suppressed it viciously, fighting against the equally sharp lash of agony as my eyes continued to the face beneath the black hair, the face that wasn't the one I wanted to see. Next was fear; this was not the face I grieved for, but it was close enough for me to know that the man facing me was no stray hiker.

And finally, in the end, recognition.

"Laurent!" I cried in surprised pleasure.

It was an irrational response. I probably should have stopped at fear.

Laurent had been one of James' coven when we'd first met. He hadn't been involved with the hunt that followed—the hunt where I was the quarry—but that was only because he was afraid; I was protected by a bigger coven than his own. It would have been different if that wasn't the case—he'd had no compunctions, at the time, against making a meal of me. Of course, he must have changed, because he'd gone to Alaska to live with the other civilized coven there, the other family that refused to drink human blood for ethical reasons. The other family like…but I couldn't let myself think the name.

Yes, fear would have make more sense, but all I felt was an overwhelming satisfaction. The meadow was a magic place again. A darker magic than I'd expected, to be sure, but magic all the same. Here was the connection I'd sought. The proof, however remote, that—somewhere in the same world where I lived—he did exist.

It was impossible how exactly the same Laurent looked. I suppose it was very silly and human to expect some kind of change in the last year. But there was something…I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Bella?" he asked, looking more astonished that I felt.

"You remember." I smiled. It was ridiculous that I should be so elated because a vampire knew my name

He grinned. "I didn't expect to see you here." He strolled toward me, his expression bemused.

"Isn't it the other way around? I do live here. I thought you'd gone to Alaska."

He stopped about ten paces away, cocking his head to the side. His face was the most beautiful face I'd seen in what felt like an eternity. I studied his features with a strangely greedy sense of release. Here was someone I didn't have to pretend for—someone who already knew everything I could never say.

"You're right," he agreed. "I did go to Alaska. Still, I didn't expect…When I found the Cullen place empty, I thought they'd moved on."

"Oh." I bit my lip as the name set the raw edges of my wound throbbing. It took me a second to compose myself. Laurent waited with curious eyes.

"They did move on," I finally managed to tell him.

"Hmm," he murmured. "I'm surprised they left you behind. Weren't you sort of a pet of theirs?" His eyes were innocent of any intended offense.

I smiled wryly. "Something like that."

"Hmm," he said, thoughtful again.

At that precise moment, I realized why he looked the same—too much the same. After Carlisle told us that Laurent had stayed with Tanya's family, I'd begun to picture him, on the rare occasions that I thought of him at all, with the same golden eyes that the…Cullens—I forced the name out, wincing—had. That all good vampires had.

I took an involuntary step back, and his curious, dark red eyes followed the movement.

"Do they visit often?" he asked, still casual, but his weight shifted toward me.

"Lie," the beautiful velvet voice whispered anxiously from my memory.

I started at the sound of his voice, but it should not have surprised me. Was I not in the worst danger imaginable? The motorcycle was safe as kittens next to this.

I did what the voice said to do.

"Now and again." I tried to make my voice light, relaxed. "The time seems longer to me, I imagine. You know how they get distracted…" I was beginning to babble. I had to work to shut myself up.

"Hmm," he said again. "The house smelled like it had been vacant for a while…"

"You must lie better than that, Bella," the voice urged.

I tried. "I'll have to mention to Carlisle that you stopped by. He'll be sorry they missed your visit." I pretended to deliberate for a second, "But I probably shouldn't mention it to…Edward, I suppose—" I barely managed to say his name, and it twisted my expression on the way out, ruining my bluff "—he has such a temper…well, I'm sure you remember. He's still touchy about the whole James thing." I rolled my eyes and waved one hand dismissively, like it was all ancient history, but there was an edge of hysteria to my voice. I wondered if he would recognize what it was.

"Is he really?" Laurent asked pleasantly…skeptically.

I kept my reply short, so that my voice wouldn't betray my panic. "Mm-hmm."

Laurent took a casual step to the side, gazing around at the little meadow. I didn't miss that the step brought him closer to me. In my head, the voice responded with a low snarl.

"So how are things working out in Denali? Carlisle said you were staying with Tanya?" My voice was too high.

The question made him pause. "I like Tanya very much," he mused. "And her sister Irina even more…I've never stayed in one place for so long before, and I enjoy the advantages, the novelty of it. But, the restrictions are difficult…I'm surprised that any of them can keep it up for long." He smiled at me conspiratorially. "Sometime I cheat."

I couldn't swallow. My foot started to ease back, but I froze when his red eyes flickered down to catch the movement.

"Oh," I said in a faint voice. "Jasper has problems with that, too."

"Don't move," the voice whispered. I tried to do what he instructed. It was hard; the instinct to take flight was nearly uncontrollable.

"Really?" Laurent seemed interested. "Is that why they left?"

"No," I answered honestly. "Jasper is more careful at home."

"Yes," Laurent agreed. "I am, too."

The step forward he took now was quite deliberate.

"Did Victoria ever find you?" I asked, breathless, desperate to distract him. It was the first question that popped into my head, and I regretted it as soon as the words were spoken. Victoria—who had hunted me with James, and then disappeared—was not someone I wanted to think of at this particular moment.

But the question did stop him.

"Yes," he said, hesitating on that step. "I actually came here as a favor to her." He made a face. "She won't be happy about this."

"About what?" I said eagerly, inviting him to continue. He was glaring into the trees, away from me. I took advantage of his diversion, taking a furtive step back.

He looked back at me and smiled—the expression made him look like a black-haired angel.

"About me killing you," he answered in a seductive purr.

I staggered back another step. The frantic growling in my head made it hard to hear.

"She wanted to save that part for herself," he went on blithely. "She's sort of…put out with you, Bella."

"Me?" I squeaked.

He shook his head and chuckled. "I know, it seems a little backward to me, too. But James was her mate, and your Edward killed him."

Even here, on the point of death, his name tore against my unhealed wounds like a serrated edge.

Laurent was oblivious to my reaction. "She thought it was more appropriate to kill you than Edward—fair turnabout, mate for mate. She asked me get the lay of the land for her, so to speak. I didn't imagine you would be so easy to get to. So maybe her plan was flawed—apparently it wouldn't be the revenge she imagined, since you must not mean very much to him if he left you here unprotected."

Another blow, another tear through my chest.

Laurent's weight shifted slightly, and I stumbled another step back.

He frowned. "I suppose she'll be angry, all the same."

"Then why not wait for her?" I choked out.

A mischievous grin rearranged his features. "Well, you've caught me at a bad time, Bella. I didn't come to this place on Victoria's mission—I was hunting. I'm quite thirsty, and you do smell…simply mouthwatering."

Laurent looked at me with approval, as if he meant it as a compliment.

"Threaten him," the beautiful delusion ordered, his voice distorted with dread.

"He'll know it was you," I whispered obediently. "You won't get away with this."

"And why not?" Laurent's smile widened. He gazed around the small opening in the trees. "The scent will wash away with the next rain. No one will find your body—you'll simply go missing, like so many, many other humans. There's no reason for Edward to think of me, if he cares enough to investigate. This is nothing personal, let me assure you, Bella. Just thirst."

"Beg," my hallucination begged.

"Please," I gasped.

Laurent shook his head, his face kind. "Look at it this way, Bella. You're very lucky I was the one to find you."

"Am I?" I mouthed, faltering another step back.

"Yes," he assured me. "I'll be very quick. You won't feel a thing, I promise. Oh, I'll lie to Victoria about that later, naturally, just to placate her. But if you knew what she had planned for you, Bella…" He shook his head with a slow movement, almost as if in disgust. "I swear you'd be thanking me for this."

I stared at him in horror.

He sniffed the breeze that blew threads of my hair in his direction. "Mouthwatering," he repeated, inhaling deeply.

I tensed for the spring, my eyes squinting as I cringed away, and the sound of Edward's furious roar echoed distantly in the back of my head. His name burst through the walls I'd built to contain it. Edward, Edward, Edward. I was going to die. It shouldn't matter if I thought of him now. Edward, I love you.

Laurent bent in even closer, his nose nearly touching my hair now, inhaling deeply. "But I do wonder…" he mused softly.

"What? What do you wonder, Laurent?" I barely dared to breathe. Anything to keep him talking longer, help me think of a way to get out of this mess.

Who was I kidding? I was going to die, anyway! Why even try? "For me! Keep yourself alive for nobody else but me!" the hallucination begged me, sounding near the brink of tears.

Laurent continued, terribly oblivious. "Not that you aren't beautiful; for a human, at least, you are a ravishing little thing. But what was it that sparked Edward Cullen so? With Tanya, he expresses little to no interest, but with a human such as yourself, especially such a delicious morsel…such a strange occurrence, I tell you…I don't understand it.

"Ah, poor thing. You're shaking. Hmm, what's that? I think it would be most prudent, do you not agree, to not dally anymore?"

I shuddered, and welcomed the fear at the same time. Finally, my emotions were beginning to make an iota of sense. Finally, in the end, I would feel relief from that awful pain. The pain of thinking about himEdward, I kept telling myself. It was safe to think about him.

I was lost in thoughts of the angel who I once thought was mine, listening to Edward as he began to panic, bordering on hysteria, as if he still cared. Had he ever really cared? Or was it all just some vampire show? I stood in wonderment, listening to the velveteen delusions as he told me to "get the hell out of there!" I fought to pay attention to Edward and tune out Laurent's musings—they were much too…vampiric for me. Thus, I didn't even realize what he was planning on doing until he pressed his mouth to mine.

I struggled to scream, to get away from him, to breathe, but he was too strong, too insistent. I stopped struggling and stood like a statue, waiting for him to let go, but he wouldn't. It didn't even matter, truly, if I didn't get any air. Suffocation was most probably a preferable death to a vampire attack, after all. But on instinct, I fought against him as my air supply began to reach a critical low. He pushed against me, harder and harder, as if he didn't even feel my attempts to get away—which he definitely didn't. It went on like this until finally I bit down on his stone-like tongue.

He snapped, recoiling. "That wasn't half-bad, you know, until the end." Had he mistaken the struggles to get away as passion? Interesting. "Though I must say, I do so prefer Irina…" He trailed off with a happy glaze over his eyes.

At that precise moment, I realized that my mouth hurt. A ton. It throbbed insistently and I rubbed my jaw. Damned vampires! Pun intended—they should all go to hell!

No, I don't mean that. Alice doesn't belong there, and I don't have the heart to condemn Edward. The thought made me want to cry. Immediately, I was clutching my chest, again, falling to the grass, as I crawled with infuriating slowness to get away from the distracted Laurent and the nearing growls.

Somehow, whatever animal was getting closer was scaring him—the most powerful of creatures to walk the earth. I managed to make it to the trees as I watched Laurent's eyes widen with fear.

The haze of Edward-induced pain lifted as I noticed Laurent's obvious fear. Why was he snapping his head back and forth like that? What were those growls getting louder and louder?

Then I saw it; a huge black shape eased out of the trees, quiet as a shadow, and stalked deliberately toward the vampire. It was enormous—as tall as a horse, but thicker, much more muscular. The long muzzle grimaced, revealing a line of dagger-like incisors. A grisly snarl rolled out from between the teeth, rumbling across the clearing like a prolonged crack of thunder.

The bear. Only, it wasn't a bear at all. Still, this gigantic black monster had to be the creature causing all the alarm. From a distance, anyone would assume it was a bear. What else could be so vast, so powerfully built?

I wished I were lucky enough to see it from a distance. Instead, it padded silently through the grass a mere ten feet from where I crouched in the trees.

"Don't move an inch," Edward's voice instructed.

I stared at the monstrous creature, my mind boggling as I tried to put a name to it. There was a distinctly canine cast to the shape of it, the way it moved. I could only think of one possibility, locked in horror as I was. Yet I'd never imagined that a wolf could get so big.

Another growl rumbled in its throat, and I shuddered away from the sound.

Laurent was backing toward the trees, and under the freezing terror, confusion swept through me. Why was Laurent retreating? Granted, the wolf was monstrous in size, but it was just an animal. What reason would a vampire have for fearing an animal? And Laurent was afraid. His eyes were wide with horror, just like mine.

As if in answer to my question, suddenly the mammoth wolf was not alone. Flanking it on either side, another two gigantic beasts prowled silently into the meadow. One was a deep gray, the other brown, neither one quite as tall as the first. The gray wolf came through the trees only a few feet from me, its eyes locked on Laurent.

Before I could even react, two more wolves followed, lined up in a V, like geese flying south. Which meant that the rusty brown monster that shrugged through the brush last was close enough for me to touch.

I gave an involuntary gasp and jumped back—which was the stupidest thing that I could have done. I froze again, waiting for the wolves to turn on me, the much weaker of the available prey. I wished briefly that Laurent would get on with it and crush the wolf pack—it should be so simple for him. I guessed that, between the two choices before me, being eaten by wolves was almost certainly the worse option.

Thankfully, though, not even the rusty brown wolf-thing seemed to notice me. They were too busy studying Laurent, who was staring at the pack with unconcealed shock and fear. The first I could understand, but I was stunned when, without warning, he spun and disappeared into the trees.

He ran away.

All the wolves were after him a second, sprinting across the open grass with a few powerful bounds, snarling snapping so loudly that my hands flew up instinctively to cover my ears. The sound faded with surprising swiftness once they disappeared into the woods.

And then I was alone again.

I sagged against the tree, and looked around, realizing that I had been wrong. I still wasn't alone. The reddish-brown wolf was still there, lingering, as it sniffed around. It glanced in my direction, and I tried to blend into the tree behind me, thankful for the forest-green shirt I had decided to wear. I noticed its eyes—dark, nearly black, seeming too intelligent for a wild animal. As it stared unblinkingly, searching for whatever it wanted, I suddenly thought of Jacob—again, with gratitude. At least I'd come here alone, to this fairytale meadow filled with dark monsters. At least Jacob wasn't going to die, too. At least I wouldn't have his death on my hands.

Finally, after a last sniff, the last wolf bounded away to join the pack.

I managed to get up onto my legs and ran, crazy with relief that I hadn't been eaten by some miraculous twist of fate, but it wasn't long before I tripped over a root and fell. My forehead hit the tree, and I put a hand up to my head. No blood. But why did I smell the blood? I began to feel woozy and nauseous. No! I couldn't pass out here! I had to get back to Charlie! He mattered, if nobody else did. I put both hands to my face, feeling for the source, and when they came away, I knew where the blood was from.

My mouth.

It was bleeding.

Laurent had kissed me.

His sharp teeth had pierced my tongue in a miniscule bite.

And Edward was no longer in my life.


I'm not too sure I like the title of this story. If you have any ideas for a better title, leave me a message.

I'm trying to find a beta, and someone to take over another one of my stories (Charity: Brangelina Style). I have a basic plan for how I want it to go, but I'm suffering major writer's block with it. Tell me if you're interested!

Do I get a reward for being such a good young author? I hope so—and if you think so, leave me a review, because reviews are what feed authors' imaginations, and I'm a starving artist!