Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any characters of the Marvel Universe, although Jesse and Brooke are my own unique characters.
With that out of the way, enjoy! And feel free to review…I love constructive criticism!
According to my father, the pact between vampires and mutants dates back thousands of years, formed after the two races nearly engaged in a war that would have destroyed both parties. The point of conflict?Humankind. Mutants, the vast majority at least, seek to preserve human society, and many have pledged their lives to the defense of the human race. This is obviously a moot point for the vampires, whose very existence depends on draining the life from innocent humans. Tensions built, and it wasn't long before the two races were at the brink of warfare. Then, the seemingly impossible occurred. The prominent leaders of the vampire and mutant communities hesitantly met on neutral ground to discuss a compromise, dubbed the Concord of the Supernaturals. Altruism was hardly the motive behind the gathering; both sides merely sought self-preservation, a world where both vampire and mutant could coexist without incurring massive fatalities. It was during this congregation that the Volturi was formed, a vampire elite that was to be responsible for controlling the vampire population and concealing the existence of the species from the common human in order to maintain stability. The mutants warned the parasites to kill only by necessity, and that if vampire actions were suspected to have run awry, the contract would be dissolved. Decades of uneasy peace ensued, each race maintaining its own affairs so well that the later generations were scarcely aware that the other existed. Until now.
I squinted up at the night sky, black as obsidian. The extensive cloud cover blotted out any hint of the stars and muddled the moon's normally pearly glow. How quaintly coffin like. Suitable conditions for a vampire, I thought with distaste. Why Ororo, codename Storm, insisted on sending me to Forks rather than my father I can understand. Patience and tolerance weren't exactly Logan Howlett's strong points. 'Wolverine' lives upto his namesake. He bristled at the idea of sending his only daughter into vampire territory, but there was no arguing with the headmaster of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I smiled to myself at the innocuous name. "Gifted youngsters" indeed. Unknown to most, the mansion doubles as a school for mutants and as the stronghold of the X-men, an organized group of mutants that strives to defend humans. It was founded by the deceased Charles Xavier on the ideal of someday creating a world where humans and mutants lived in a state of perfect unity and acceptance. I've always been a bit critical about that one. The day humans embrace a group of people they cannot possibly hope to control for their own ends will be the day I regain faith in human nature.
I stroked the raised silver 'X' insignia set into the chest of my black leather uniform. I was immensely fond of it, inestimably pleased with my status as a member of the X-men. I could scarcely believe it had been seven years since I arrived at Xavier's Institute shortly after my thirteenth birthday. My sixteenth year of life marked a turning point: I became an active member of the team, and had been serving the X-men since. But in all my experiences, never had I been assigned a task quite like this. Less than a week ago, the idea that vampires existed, and their long history with mutants, had been entirely unknown to me. I suppose the existence of mutants should have made me more open-minded to monsters I once thought only existed in folklore. After all, I lived in a mansion filled with individuals that can fly, possess incalculable strength, that manipulate objects with their minds alone…so why not add vampires to the mix? Word is that humans are disappearing from local populations…succumbing to a strange disease causing intense pain and death soon after. Strange thing is, the bodies are disappearing as quickly as they're piling up. Storm and the experienced X-men suspect the Volturi are behind it, creating vampires for an unknown purpose. In my opinion, the purpose is fairly clear. The vampires are asking for a war, but no one has the backbone to admit it. The Volturi appear to have relocated, and the mutants can't seem to get into contact with them. No surprise there. Yet they all insist that there must be some other motive.
The Cullens. That's who Ororo told us to contact. A "peaceful" coven of vamps that can perhaps enlighten us with more information. The only one that scoffed at that idea more than I did was Logan. The gauntlet has been thrown down. The parasites want a war. And yet here I am trying to play peacemaker with a bunch of the undead that would sooner go for the jugular than provide us with information on how to stop their growing vampire army. Mutants should have exterminated them long ago. Would have saved everyone some headaches.
I knew that Logan's confidence in my abilities and the idea that I wouldn't be going entirely alone were the only two factors preventing him from being here himself. Wolverine doesn't take orders, not even from Storm. I may have been a better choice to send than Logan, but I don't exactly take kindly to the bloodsuckers either. He may not have a reputation for diplomacy, but my record was far from spotless. Ferocity runs in the family.
I inhaled, taking in the melting pot of sweet scents from the forest. The slightly acidic aroma of pine needles, the moist ground, and the scent of decay predominated, intermingled with the odor of rabbit and deer that had traversed the area, scent trails both fresh and stale. Though I somewhat resented being across the country in some godforsaken vampire cesspool, the forest was my element, and hard to come by in New York. Like my father, my senses were inhumanely acute. I also possessed his talent for healing, though the combination of my mother's genes and his own may have heightened my healing ability to a level that surpassed even his own. I liked to think that this ability gave me some edge over him in a fight, but I knew I was kidding myself. Training with my father was never a good self-esteem booster. A new odor pervaded my nostrils. It was a slightly musky, yet it had an edge to it that brought a slight tingling, almost burning sensation to sensitive nose. I sensed the building of adrenaline behind the scent.
"Don't even try it, Jesse," I announced, unmoving. Jesse Storm came into the open field from the tree line that surrounded it, dressed in an identical leather uniform that contoured nicely with his well-defined muscles. I'll be damned if I ever admit to him though. He cracked a wide smile revealed his flawless white teeth.
"Aw, Brooke. Those senses of yours are no fun. Can't even spook you when we're neck deep in vampire country," he laughed. He came up behind me and attempted to touch a lock of the chocolate colored hair that ran in long waves down my back. I shrugged him off with a swift sidestep. This is what I couldn't understand. Why send him of all people to be the other mutant envoy? His overt fondness of me dated back to when we first became members of the team. I thought I made it fairly clear that him and I were not a good pairing, as fellow X-men or otherwise. Perhaps Ororo assumed he would be the only one who would remain infuriatingly oblivious to my surliness.
"Did you cloak the jet?" I stated with as little emotion as possible.
"All set, hun. It's hovering on standby a couple thousand feet up above this field. All cloaking devices are engaged. Whenever you're done staring at the sky, come back and eat something. I'm sure you're just as starved as I am," he replied. Jesse turned a walked back into the trees, disappearing among the shadows of the towering conifers. As much as I hated my stomach for it, I was hungry, and it would be foolish to spurn the strength the food would provide me with…even if it meant going back to deal with Jesse.
Before I went blundering through the trees in search of where Jesse had set up camp, I concentrated for a moment, and felt the ligaments and contours of my eyes shift into a new form. The world cleared around me as the jaguar's eyes replaced my own, my vertical pupils widening to exploit any degree of light. This is my other ability. I am a shapeshifter, having all the forms and abilities of predatory animals at my disposal. That ability I owed to Rahne Sinclair, otherwise known as Wolfsbane, my mother. Rahne could shift into the form of a wolf as easily as she could breathe in addition to assuming various lupine half forms and possessing a small degree of accelerated healing. Why my shapeshifting abilities came to encompass all predatory animals is likely due to further mutation that occurred during my development. Mutant genetics isn't exactly a precise science. Memories of my mother pained me…she had not been in my life for a long while. I hastily pushed her from my mind.
I wandered a short while into the forest, following Jesse's scent. The forest was varying shades of gray to the jaguar's eyes, but the way the light refracted into my adapted eyes made the forest appear nearly as light as day. I found Jesse kneeling on the ground in front of two makeshift tents, flashlight in hand, piling timber for a fire. He looked up as I approached, flashing that irritating smile, though it dissipated slightly as his eyes rested on face. That brought me immense satisfaction. Undoubtedly my eyes were reflecting eerily in the darkness. The smile returned. "You look like a demon ," he said with a laugh. I took it as a compliment before I allowed my eyes to assume their normal form and teal color, becoming virtually blind in the shadows once more. Granted, even with human eyes my night vision was better than most. Jesse looked down at his pile of timber.
"Let's get this fire cookin'," he stated, rubbing his hands together. I watched as he reached his right hand toward the wood. The veins of his fingers and palm began to glow a pulsating orange. His index finger burst into crackling flames before a short gold flame shot out it and onto the moist kindling, igniting it nevertheless. The fire roared to life, enveloping us in a circle of blessed yellow light. I sat down beside it, as far from Jesse as possible.
"You could have just used a match," I criticized. I couldn't stand the smug look on his face. He looked up at me, caramel eyes dancing in the firelight.
"Match wouldn't have lit wet wood. Besides, where's the fun in doing it the traditional way?" Jesse responded. I rolled my eyes as I dug into the pack that lay beside my tent, scrounging up some trail mix and a turkey sandwich. So full of himself. I suppose it comes with the territory when you're the son of the Human Torch. He inherited all of Johnny Storm's talents with fire, no doubt enhanced by his mother's ( Angelica Jones) prowess with microwave energy*. He ran a hand over his close cropped black hair before digging into his own pack. We ate in blissful silence as I temporarily lost myself to the sounds of the surrounding forest, straining past the benign chirps of the crickets for anything unfamiliar. What kind of sounds did a vampire make? The silence it didn't last long.
"Kind of funny, don't you think? Being partnered together…." Jesse began. I knew he was trying to push me. He wasn't oblivious to the waves of animosity that rolled off me. I glared across the fire at him, watching the flames cast flickering shadows across his well-defined face. God, he would be so much easier to hate if it he weren't so attractive.
"It's almost as if…," he began again, looking away before a grin stretched across his features. "Storm thought we would make the most adorable pair of envoys…" Jesse met my eyes again, checking my reaction. My glare deepened. Don't react…don't give him that satisfaction. But he's just so goddamned irritating.
"What's wrong, hun? You look like you want to bite me," he teased in sugary sweet voice. I couldn't take it anymore. My vocal chords changed shape as a tiger's growl escaped my throat. I fought to restrain myself from lunging at him. He chuckled. Damn…he never fails to get a rise out of me.
"Impressive," he stated, unflinching.
"Don't push me. Did you ever think that Storm paired us to see how long you would last before I tore your throat out? They're probably all making bets back home as we speak," I said through tight lips. He raised an eyebrow.
"In that case…all bets are on me. Though I'd like to see you try, my pretty feline friend," he retorted, his humor undiminished. I could barely restrain changing, and had to force my elongating canines into their human shape. I growled once more before stalking into my tent, hurriedly zipping the flap closed behind me.
Curling into my sleeping bag, I closed my eyes, wishing for the wonderful oblivion of sleep to overtake me. Unfortunately, my senses would not allow me to rest when there were vampires about, unrelentingly scouring for the unseen threat that was likely to already be stalking our campsite. How easy things were for humans.
*Angelica Jones is also commonly known as the superhero Firestar. Look her up if you're curious ;)