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The most violent element in society is ignorance. Emma Goldman
Charlie Swan trudged up his front walk, his feet throbbing in his heavy work boots. He was lost in thought after the long twelve hour shift. Charlie liked his job as police chief, and he felt he needed to be present at every crime scene. He was also very good at his job. He had won two valor awards from the state, and had been recognized in a national magazine for his service to the community. This was his town, and he felt especially responsible for his two young deputies. That night had been particularly grueling, as they had intervened in a violent altercation between husband and wife. Charlie knew the man, Nick Price, who happened to be the principle the local high school attended by Charlie's daughter. In the violent drunken altercation, Price had seriously injured his wife, Eileen. She had a black eye, a fractured wrist and cracked several ribs. After booking the man, Charlie went and sat at the hospital with Eileen. He hoped she would cooperate with the investigation. Charlie wanted to charge Nick with felony battery, and he knew from long experience that it would go a lot smoother with her cooperation. Finally, after the long night, Eileen told Charlie she was ready. Ready to do her part to make sure Nick got the help he needed, ready to protect her and their family. Charlie took her statement and checked in with evidence before finally heading home. After working from noon to midnight, he did not think to look if his daughter Bella's truck was in the garage. He assumed she was sleeping in her bed. Bella was accustomed to fending for herself in the evening, and so mature and responsible that Charlie never gave it a thought.
It had been the two of them since Bella was a baby, when Bella's mother had run off with some athlete, leaving no forwarding address. At first, it had been difficult, and Charlie had burned through several nannies, until his best friend Billy, a Native American, offered to enroll Bella in the nursery school on the reservation with his son Jacob when she was just one year old. Jacob was four, and from that age on, had assigned himself to act as Bella's big brother and constant companion. After Jake graduated from high school last year, he got a small business loan and bought the run-down gas station in town, adding a full service garage and several mechanics, a small store with a selection of tobacco and groceries, and cleaning the place up in general. Jake was smart, because of his Native American ethnicity and the location of the place, he was able to sell things tax free and people came through just to buy tax-free liquor or smokes. He had all the licenses he needed to do so, and was very successful. Charlie knew Bella spent a lot of time at the station with Jake after school and on weekends. He knew that if Bella was not at home or at school, he would likely find her there.
Lost in thoughts, he entered his house, removing his gun belt and carefully storing it in the coat closet, hung up his coat, and groaned as he unlaced and pulled off his boots. He briefly thought about grabbing a hot shower or something to eat, but instead, he headed straight for bed in his boxer shorts, not even taking the time to put on the sweat shorts and t-shirt he slept in habitually. He slept clear through until 8 in the morning, deep and dreamless. He woke up and went straight for the shower, still grimy from the night before. Charlie appreciated the care Bella had taken in the bathroom, he could not even tell that she had showered and left for school. She was so clean and thoughtful. He was working day shift today, and was looking forward to dinner with his daughter tonight.
Once he was dressed for work, Charlie made his way downstairs. He looked for the case of Pepsi that Bella had promised to buy after school yesterday, and couldn't find it anywhere. She didn't get the package of paper towel either. That was odd. Charlie noticed the little light on the phone was flashing, signifying voice mail. He called to check the voicemail. His heart was suddenly slamming in his chest. He listened to his voicemail, hearing the automatic robot greeting from the high school, reporting that Bella was not in homeroom this morning and was absent unexcused. Charlie sat up straight. Bella had never missed a day of school. She was on-time to a fault, almost always early to any social scene. She joked that if she tried to be late to a party or group meeting, she was still exactly on time, and still the first one there. His heart started to slam in his chest. He felt his stomach drop, and ran for the bathroom, choking up sour bile. He broke out in a prickly cold sweat. His whole life was Bella. Whenever anyone asked him how she was doing, his stock answer was "There is no getting out of bed without that kid." She was literally the reason he got up and moved through the world, feeling so lucky every day to have her for his daughter. When she was small, the used to have a game they played where he would swing her around and sing "I am so happy you are my daughter. Out of all the girls in the whole wide world, I got the best one." Little Bella would sing back "The best one! The best one." And he had no idea where she was right now. After brushing his teeth to clear the vomit, and racing into his gun belt and the rest of his gear, Charlie Swan sped to the high school with sirens blaring. He was pulling it together, swallowing his fear and trying to focus like a laser on finding Bella and making sure she was safe.
Edward was in a predicament. Instead of setting his prey up so he could hunt her, he now owned her ass. While she got into the van, Edward raced around and shoved the entire shopping cart from her Costco excursion into the rear of the van. He noticed she purchased a large wrapped packet of chicken breasts, strip steaks, a huge bucket of blueberries, and several other packaged food items. He drove straight to his apartment in the van. He could tell that no one had noticed his fast action, for he did not see himself or the woman in anyone's mind. He walked behind his captive up to his place, thinking he would come down later for the groceries once she was asleep. . His mind was racing. He needed information if he was going to pull this off. He hoped that the woman did not have children or a husband who would miss her right away. He tried to talk to her during their ride in the van, but the dose of vampire charm was apparently overkill, as she could not even tell him her name. He knew from experience he would need to talk her down but keep her consciousness suppressed, so he could learn as much as possible. Unfortunately, he had not been able to furnish his apartment, and the place was totally bare. There was no food. He had no glassware, or dishes. He did have some towels, but no bed linens. Worst of all, he did not have a bed. He did have a couch, which was delivered in the first days in the town. The couch looked ridiculous floating in the empty apartment. He had his computer set up on the little end table, and that was where he had sat and searched for items about Alice's death, and whatever else he felt like looking at on the internet. He also had a small shelf for books, which was full of science fiction classics by Asimov and Heinlein. It was a small collection, and he could recite most of the books and short stories from memory.
The woman sat blankly on his couch, while he paced. Edward's mind was racing, trying to plan. He felt as though he was missing some crucial piece of information, and was frustrated that a plan was not clear to him. Should he ditch the van? Or tie her up in back and take off? Abandon the life he had gone to pains to set up? He had only been here a week. Surely if he were to disappear, no one would know. The only person he had told his name was the gas station attendant, when he needed to sign over the van title. He had never acted so impulsively, and in fact was started to doubt his impulses as of late. First, the botched attack on Alice Brandon, now here he was, a couple of weeks later- and months before he would normally feed- saddled with this mystery person whose scent addled his brain and confused his senses. He knew the easiest thing would be to release her now, and abandon the van. He could run over to the station where he had left the Volvo and go somewhere else, set up all over again and do things right. Yes, that is what he should do. But. The scent. This feeling. If he had known it existed, he would spend a hundred lifetimes tracking it down. He felt he could not separate from it. Edward was addicted already. He sat back and took a deep breath. He could feel live venom surging in his body. He felt as though he was electrified, powerful. He wanted to roll around in the scent, bathe in it, consume it and own it. No, he would not release her. He wished he could call someone and ask for advice. He had heard about vampires keeping humans as companions or assistants or even pets, but he had no idea how that came about or what to do to prepare for it. How would he get this woman to agree to stay with him? Could he keep her hypnotized all the time? Did he even want to drink from her? He wanted to keep her. He wished she was small enough to fit in his pocket, so he could carry her everywhere undetected. He grinned at this thought. He really was losing his shit. This is what happened when he lived life in his head too long. Perhaps his new companion would help him figure this out once she snapped out of her trance.
Right now, she was almost boneless, sacked out on the couch, her large dark eyes dilated and unblinking. He knew that hours were passing quickly, and he was losing his window of time to act. It was already the middle of the night. He wondered if the scent or presence of the woman acted as some kind of time mask, it had just slipped away from him. He flew down to the van and got the metal cart from the back. What had he been thinking to bring the whole cart? There was no explanation for that if he was questioned. The thing was huge in the living room of the apartment. Well, there was no ditching it now. He thought they could probably stay in the apartment for a while with these supplies. He would not have to leave her. Then he could think about what his next move would be. He approached his captive tentatively. He reached out and stroked her arm. He could feel the energy snapping between them, the scent surrounded him; he could actually taste it in the air. He could see the goose bumps rise on her arm along the path of his touch, but she still did not blink or shiver or flinch. He moved closer, still, hovering over her. He did not know if her mind was truly blank from her altered consciousness, but he had no sense of what she was thinking. No pictures flickered through his head. He could not tell if she was upset. So odd. He thought perhaps she was in shock. She was drooling a little bit, and her breathing was quite shallow. He looked at her closely. Her skin was a soft pink, her heart shaped lips red, her luminous eyes veiled with dark lashes, unblinking. Her full mouth was slack. She looked like an old-fashioned kewpie doll, with the over-exaggerated coloring combined with her motionless state. He found her quite lovely. If he had sketched the perfect mate for himself, she might look like this. Although he would prefer she dress more feminine. Scruffy jeans and sneakers were hardly the feminine ideal.
Edward sat down at his computer, trying to ease his mind. The browser was open to one of the news sites, and there was a flashing banner. Amber Alert. He had not thought about the surveillance cameras in the parking lot of the store. They had pictures of the van, and of the woman approaching it with a smile. They had the license plate number. The grainy video did not capture any of Edward's movement, or his face. But it was obvious that the woman climbed in the van. The video clearly showed her, full face and body. Now he had to get out of here. That van was parked right in front of his place. If they had not already, they would soon trace him back to his Volvo. His captive! Her name was Bella Swan. She was a minor! Only 16. He knew this meant that federal authorities would be involved, and that it could even make national news. This girl was so attractive, small town; it had all the ingredients of a leading news story. He quickly surfed over to another news site, where they had video of the girl's father, showing her picture and making a speech, surrounded by blue uniforms. It seemed that his captive's father was the chief of police. No biggie, right? Every police officer in the country would be on the hunt for her, she was one of their own. Plus the Feds. How would he get her out of here now? Where could they go? He could run very fast, but he could not let the girl out in public now. Everyone would recognize her. Sure, that would be great- a man running very fast with an unconscious teenager slung over his shoulder in broad daylight. That was not an option at all. Could he call a limo to pick them up? That would have tinted windows, and he could possible maintain anonymity to get out of town. Unless the driver recognized the girl. He would love to get her out of the country, perhaps to a big city where they could blend in. He knew Vancouver, BC was not far in miles from where they were, but they would need to take a ferry there, and likely go through customs. That would not work at all. He would not be able to wait for nightfall, now that he knew that. It was quite early in the morning now. He had his captive for probably 12 hours already. Everything he had done had fallen in on him at once, and he felt he had no option. Of course he could easily disappear if he left her behind, but this was a rapid thought, it held no appeal. He knew she would stay with him, no matter what. Maybe he could hide her with his vampire family. He did not even know where his former coven had settled if he needed their help, it had been twenty five years. Edward figured that law enforcement would likely find the van within the hour, this was a small town. He did not have time to obsess over every moment. He would need to take the girl in the van and quickly find some safer form of transportation and then figure out how what to do from there. He still felt the surging energy, and felt manic. He hummed an old David Bowie song as he packed up a couple of things in a duffel bag. He grabbed the bucket of blueberries and the case of Pepsi, the only food items that did not need to be cooked. He forced another zap of hypnotic suggestion to his captor, directing her to use a toilet and then follow him. He stayed with her the whole time. He did not let her out of his sight for a minute, an instant. There was no modesty for her- absurd. He owned her now. He needed her. She was like the vampire's best friend. Even though she had not said a word. Edward started to fantasize about how she would worship him, and do everything he asked of her. She would see him as a hero; perhaps even call him master or sir. She would be his, to do with as he wished, his constant companion. She would be so impressed with his intellect and strength, and his ability to provide for them both. She would follow his every move with adoring eyes. His captive would never want for anything. She would love him. He was sure of it.