Chapter 3 – Metal Now

I want it now,
I want the danger.
Give me strength and I'll give you wings.
I get angry,
When you're around, when you're around.
I get nasty,
When you're around, when you're around.

-Say Anything

Adrienne:

Bambi was still knocked out.

She'd been sleeping for at least ten minutes, allowing me to grab my car and come back. I glanced at her worried, wondering if she was in shock from seeing my memories or exhausted from the mental punch she threw at me. It was probably both. I was sure she was fine, but I contemplated taking her to hospital or waiting for her to wake up.

The Soul gaze told me nothing about the werewolf attacks which, was irritating considering that was the whole point of the gaze. A part of me wanted to wait for the girl to wake up and question her. That and shake her screaming who the hell do you think you are, bitch? I wasn't used to being mentally sucker punched. In fact, I wasn't used to being wrong either. Bambi had done both, without even thinking about it, which just added insult to injury.

As much as I wanted to slap her around – I meant question her – I knew that I wouldn't. Don't get me wrong, under any other circumstance I would have, but after seeing how much she was hurting, I couldn't bring myself to. I had heard of true love, which is crass commercialism in my opinion, but this was it. Bambi was in love with this Edward completely and wholly. She was torturing herself because of it; because she wasn't enough to keep him. One word to sum up the situation: Stupid.

I sighed, knowing in the end I would take her to the hospital. She would wake up in a warm bed and rationalize the whole incident. People have rather good knack at repressing the 'impossible'. It was practically ingrained from birth; I was sure that Bambi would be fine. Now all I had to put her in the car, easy right?

Wrong. While I could most definitely punch some one hard enough for them to become airborne, I lacked the upper body strength to lift her up and walk the short distance to my beat up black Pontiac. Time for plan B. Grunting, I hauled up her upper body and dragged her dragged her to the car.

Pausing, I looked from the unconscious girl I was half carrying, to the back seat, then back to Bambi. How the hell was I supposed to get her in there? I set her down, ran around to the other side of the Pontiac, and got in the back seat. From there, slid across the seat, and then leaned out to where Bambi was laying. With a fast sure motion, I grabbed her feet, trying to pull her in the car. It worked rather well, at first. She was half in when I lost my grip, causing her to hit her head on the door. Oops. Bambi made a whimpering noise in response.

"Sorry" I called down, "But that really wasn't my fault. This whole thing could have been prevented if you told me about the werewolves. But no. You had to lie. See where lying gets you?"

I had successfully put her in the car and got out when I heard a low, husky voice demanded, "What are you doing?"

I jumped and turned around to see a mountain of a guy standing behind me. Seriously, he was huge, towering over my 5'8, which was rare. Magic thrummed off him in erratic doses, telling me to tread with caution.

I shut the backdoor, and said in a heavy Spanish accent, "Non parlo inglese"

That threw him; he stood there for a second confused, "What? Who are you?"

I smiled sweetly, replying, "Soy su muerte"

He stood there silent, and then moved forward checking me over in… concern? He apparently deemed me harmless when he pointed to himself and said slowly "Me Jake, what happened?"

I fought the urge to say 'me Jane, you Tarzan' instead I moved upwind, feigning fright. This was definitely a werewolf, and I didn't want him to smell me. With a fake accent I stumbled, "C-car pro-lem?"

"Car problem?" He clarified, glancing at my Pontiac with obvious lust. "I can help; I know how to fix cars."

Panic mixed with possessiveness me caused practically ran to the front of my car to block his way. Sure, the Pontiac was slightly beat up and the radio sucked and I was pretty sure the brakes weren't in tip top shape, but it was mine. I wasn't going to let some town idiot tinker around with it. "No, no. I got under control. I fix."

The little – ok, not really little ­- bastard laughed. It was full of that 'I am a man, therefore I can fix it for the defenseless woman' garbageI was surprised he didn't cart around wooden mallet to whack dinosaurs with. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing, go pop the hood."

A part – a really, really big one – wanted to punch him. Punch him, laugh and drive away. But that annoying insipid voice in my head, which oddly enough sounded a lot like Ebb, warned me other wise. Giving him what he wanted would get him faster and easier. I'm guessing my twitching grew more pronounced, as he looked at me in concern and asked, "Do you have something in your eye?"

"No, no – con-tack pro-lem, fine now. Going pop hood" I smiled, hopefully not baring my teeth.

"Alright" He replied, giving me a look often reserved for the insane. "I'll be waiting."

I opened the front door muttering under my breath. Stupid werewolf, thinking he could fix my stupid car. I glanced in the rear view mirror at Bella's sleeping form. Wolfie still hadn't noticed her. Even if he didn't see her, he should have smelled her. Frowning, I reached under my seat, searching. I breathed out in relief feeling the hilt of my blade; I pulled it out then its partner.

Witches and wizards carry objects they can use as a medium for their power. Most carry large wooden staffs that would make Gandalf proud, called blasting rods. They are created by their owners, which means the power blasting rods receive is limited. Don't get me wrong, some – very few, actually ­–wizards could wipe the floor with me when they channeled with a blasting rod. Sticks just didn't suite my fighting style.

I was trained with something that packed a little more punch. The daggers I held in my hand were forged in the Fae, made not only as a channel for my magic, but acted as an amplifier for it. The blades were long and thicker then your standard dagger with ancient runes craved down the sides. Their hilts were curved in the shape of a clawed talon gripping a Charoite stone. In times of crisis the stone seemed to pulse, coming alive in my hands.

"Are you doing to pop the hood?" an annoyed voice boomed, causing me to jump. "You do know how to do that, right?"

"Yes I do!" I shot back, strapping the leather sheaths to my arms.

"That's a surprise" I heard him mutter quietly.

That was it. I got out of the car, slamming the door shut. "In fact, I probably know more about cars then some giant, pushy Lysol drinking hick, who – for being a racial minority himself- is a completely and utterly condescending!"

I glared up at him, feeling my magic course through me, responding to my anger. The voice in the back of my head cursed my irrational reaction. I ignored it, and walked dangerously close to Wolfie; this would definitely help me work off some frustration. I stopped four feet in front of him, bracing myself for an attack.

But it never came. He stood there, staring at me in disbelief, and said; "You can speak English?"

This guy was freaking brain dead. "No, actually I'm speaking in Arabic, couldn't you tell?" If sarcasm was liquid, it would be dripping from my words.

"What- w-who?" He stared at me dumbfounded, I emphasize on the dumb.

"Going to get that sentence out sometime this week? As werewolves go, you score really low on the scary and intimidating scale. Like a negative zero point four." Why wasn't he trying to punch me yet? Werewolves are all brawn not brain, but while this one obviously lacked brains, he wasn't attacking me. That was unusual behavior for a psycho serial killer.

Wolfie's eyes went flat, his voice dangerously soft, "What did you say?"

That's it. "The 'are you going to get that sentence out this week' or the pathetic werewolf part?"

"Are you freaking crazy?" Was his brilliant retort

"That's fresh, coming from the psycho serial killer"

"What are you talking about?" he laughed, "First I'm a werewolf, now I'm a serial killer? I think someone forgot to take their antipsychotic this morning."

"Really," with as much speed I could muster, I pulled out my knife and launched it into his shoulder.

Or I planned on it. With stunning speed, he grabbed the knife inches away from his skin. "Bummer, I really expected that to be sticking out of your shoulder."

"What the hell? Do you throw knives at everyone who offers to help you, or this just a one time thing?" He asked, eyes glaring.

"Normally? No. However I'll make an exception for you" I used that moment to slam my foot into his midsection.

Jolts of pain raced of my leg when it connected with his body. Stupid super strong werewolf. Using the momentum and his surprise, I knocked my knife out of his grasp. His eyes widened in shock as he fell flat on his ass. Wolfie's surprise lasted about a millisecond before his leg snaked out tripping me. Before I had time to think, he was on top of me, gripping my arm with surprising strength. Instead of the painful vise grip I expected, his hand was, oddly enough, almost gentle. Well, colour me confused.

He leaned forward deliberately, sniffing my hair. "Why do you smell so familiar?" he asked, voice full of wonder "I feel like…" Wolfie closed his eyes, inhaling.

This wasn't what I expected. He was supposed to attack me and I was going to give him a royal ass kicking. Not inhale my scent like heroin. Murderous werewolves – which I was beginning to doubt he was – kill because of the need to hunt, but if I didn't know better, Wolfie could have passed as human. Probably better then me.

"Erm, uhm…?" I garbled incoherently, beginning to drown in the heat radiating off him. Way to Adrienne, become a babbling idiot because some guy is on top of you. Smooth. I cleared my throat "Excuse me, but could you let go of me be before I force you to?"

He smiled down at me, black eyes aflame with amusement, "How do you plan to force me? Like you said, I'm a werewolf after all- by the way, how did you know that?"

I smiled in return, baring my teeth "I'm a witch; we're an ominous all knowing species."

"A witch? I would've thought guys were green and had warts. Maybe even flying monkeys" He joked, obviously pleased with himself. It was probably the best his little brain could come up with. "What is your name anyway? Wait, let me guess, Wicked Witch of the West?" Wolfie was definitely going to pay for that

I began to squirm out of his grip, managing to get my leg free. "What are you-" His question was abruptly stopped when I kicked up my leg at full speed and strength, successfully flipping him over my head. "Adrienne, my name is Adrienne" I answered his previous question, as I rose to my feet.

I was on them for a minute when strong arms caught me up from behind. One wrapped around my neck, the other around my waist. Shit, this guy was fast. I was going to have to resort to magic soon. "Please don't make me do the chick fight thing." I panted.

He sounded confused "Chick fight thing?"

"Yeah, this," I reached up and pinched the sensitive web of skin between his thumb and forefinger, as my foot flew back into his shin. He let go of me with a yelp, and I whirled, my fist connecting with his jaw.

"Ow! Did you know you have a freakishly hard jaw?" I shook my hand, hoping to relieve some pain, "So if you're not the psycho serial killer, who is?"

He hesitated, unsure on whether to punch or reply. Wolfie lowered his fist and answered, "It isn't the question of who it is, but what it is."

I rolled my eyes at the distain in his voice, "Again with the racism. You should really be more accepting to people of different ethnicity. What then?"

He turned a rather amusing shade of red and a vain began to pulse in his forehead. "Vampires aren't people! They're monsters"

"So said the werewolf," I mocked, thinking. What was so important going on here that vampires would attack? Fighting usually took place in cities or areas of a high magical population. Not small towns like La Push. "What brought the war to your doorstep?"

"War?" was his perplexed reply.

"Yeah the war, you know the one between the Vampire Courts and the White Council. Been waging for the last, I don't know, six years?"

His frown deepened, a feat I didn't think possible, "Vampire Courts?"

I looked to the sky, begging for help. Hicks were so under educated on these things; I was going to explain when a high pitched female voice called, "Jake? What's going on?" Crap, I had totally forgotten about Bambi. She ran to Wolfie's gripping his hand. Ah, well that explained why she wouldn't tell me anything.

"Bella? How did you get here?" he asked surprised, then looked at me, eyes narrowing. He let go of her hand and grabbed my wrist. "Never mind, we're going to meet Sam to sort this out."

My eyes narrowed. I really don't like being told what to do. "No, I don't believe I am." I said slowly, enunciating.

His glare met my own "Yes, you are."

I wrenched my wrist from his hand, "Sorry, I made previous arrangements and I just can't reschedule it. Hmm… my only opening is when hell freezes over, is that good for you?"

I felt my lips twitch as made an exasperated noise. "Look, your coming, even if I have to force you to."

I glanced at Bambi who was staring at the both of us, confused and scared. "Are you alright?" I asked with as much gentleness that I could muster. It wasn't much.

That seemed to throw the both of them for a loop, and I saw Wolfie frown, probably wondering why he hadn't asked. "I-I-" she started, "I feel fine."

I resisted the urge to pat her head as I said, "I wouldn't have done that if I knew the effect it was going to have on you"

Before she could speak, Wolfie cut her off, eyes accusing "What did you do to her?"

I barely glanced at him when I answered. "I don't believe was speaking to you" I focused my attention on Bambi, "Is he always like this?"

Her was expression was one I hadn't seen before, something between a smile and a frown. She struggled for a moment then asked in her quiet voice, "Aren't you supposed to be evil?"

I winked, "I like to keep 'em guessing" I found myself actually liking this girl. Something told me she had a lot more kick then she seemed to let on.

Her smile seemed to win out the frown on her face. My mind turned calculating, wondering if the Gaze had anything with her lack of fear, or for that matter, anger. I wanted to ask her about what she saw, but just then Wolfie cleared his throat, reminding me of his presence. Even though I was more then curious at about what Bambi observed, bringing it up in front of Wolfie seemed to be a bad idea.

I looked at my watch, then back at the couple, "Whoa, time has been a flying. It's been fun; we'll have to do this again. Cheerio!"

Wolfie's hand grasped my arm again, this time there was no hint of his former gentleness. His eyes gained a strange feral light, and the hair on the back of my neck stood in response. The grip he had on me was harsh; so much that I would bare marks tomorrow. He pulled me forward in a blur of a moment; I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Bambi moved forward alarmed, tentatively touching his arm. "Jake are you-"

Her question was cut off as Wolfie shook her off, nearly knocking the girl to the ground. "I said you weren't leaving." His unbreakable hold tightened, threatening to snap my arm.

I swallowed back the pain and called calmly to Bambi, "Bella, move away from him." When she hesitated, I added some steal to my voice, "Now!"

The werewolf's eyes tightened at the hostility in my tone. I would have to remain calm to prevent him from changing, while still hanging on to me. Actually, preventing him from changing at all would make my life much easier. Anyone in their right mind would shy away from fighting werewolves in their wolf form, not only were they huge -with super speed and strength- but some had a natural resistance to magic. Not really the ideal situation for a witch.

I looked up at him, careful not to meet his eyes. "Jake, you need to calm down" I reasoned, trying to keep my voice emotionless. If there was any trace of anger, he would take that as a show of dominance and attack. The same would apply for fear; he would see it as a weakness and take me out. Talking a werewolf down from the edge wasn't especially easy. It was damned near impossible.

Something flickered in behind his eyes, I took advantage of it and pressed on, "You need to take control," I paused as the viperous light began to recede. "You need to let me go."

Any progress I had made was lost with that single statement, as his eyes turned glassy yet again. "No!" he roared, his whole frame beginning to shudder. "I won't, I won't let you leave!" His other arm swooped down, lifting me nearly a foot off the ground, and pressing my body against his.

Son of a fucking bitch, he was going to change, while hanging on to me. I closed my eyes, my mind franticly searching for some kind of spell, anything to save me. Not finding a shred of hope, I began to struggle, blinded by panic. I kicked, punched; struggling to no avail. Distantly, I heard a crack and a shriek of pain in response. "Never mind!" I screamed at myself, "Get away!"

Then, suddenly, the werewolf let go of me, howling. I opened my eyes, not realizing that had they been closed, and saw my knife sticking out of its arm. Blood ran down his arm in a gruesome tide, dripping rapidly to the ground. Despite his efforts, he couldn't remove the knife no matter how hard he pulled.

I rose to my feet, my broken arm hanging uselessly at my side. Hair moved in a breeze only I could feel as I whispered "Forzare"

There was a moment when the small clearing we were in went silent, almost serene. I noted his struggle to remove the knife; a girl standing there tears streaming down her face- eyes haunted. Then power rocketed out of me, its focus standing only standing half a foot away. The werewolf's black eyes widened in astonishment as an invisible force knocked into him, sending him soaring into sky.

A voice screamed in response as he fell to the ground. I heard a series of voices I hadn't heard before, spiraling around in my mind. For the second time today, I fell to the ground. My power, in spite of just being released, threatened to break free. I whimpered, trying to control the chaos inside.

I heard a soft female voice ask, "Are they doing to be okay?"

There was a terse reply, "I'm not sure… Jake's knocked out"

There was a crunch of gravel as one walked up to me. I looked up, dimly aware that it was the girl. "Are you…" she knelt down and reached out to touch me.

My magic roared in response, and I felt the earth around me shake. It's fury threatening to brake from my restraining hold. I glanced at Bambi's general direction, not daring to make eye contact. "Don't touch me"

She blinked, and then slowly backed away, as if I was a rabid dog. Upon the thought, my eyes narrowed; searching. The werewolf was over 20 yards away, laying on the ground. I saw the slight glisten of my hilt in his arm.

Taking a deep breath and rose to my feet, muttering "Venio." The knife flew in my hand at the call.

Slowly, as I wasn't sure of my balance, I walked to my car. The need to go was too strong for me to stay and wait for it to return. I managed to get to the front door before my way was blocked. It was a new boy, and by the low vibe of magic coming off him, he was a werewolf. "Look after the girl" I said, reaching around him to open the door.

"Look, we need to get you to a hos-"

"Move," I said in strangled voice, flicking my fingers, as I would to bat away a fly.

He stumbled out of the way, nearly falling. Uninterested, I got into my car, started it, and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. When the car finally came to a stop, I had driven to the hospital and broke several traffic laws in the process. A weak smile came to my face as I leaned my head against the steering wheel, shaking.

And they say werewolves can't fly.


Authors NOTES:

So yes! Chapter 3... nearly a month later. One word: sorry. I really didn't mean for it to take this long, but I had a hard time with this one. Jake and Adrienne's 'relationship', or what I had in mind for it, is proving to be difficult. That and getting Jakes character right, so if he is odd to you, I'm sorry. Jake's wiggy werewolf-ness is confusing, but you will understand in the next chapter... I hope.

My Spanish sucks. Really. So "Soy su muerte" means (or supposed to mean) "I am your death" (I bet her response funnier now)

Adrienne's last name has nothing NO-THING to do with Lauran. Vanquish the thought.

Finally (yeah I babble...) my beta (LOVE YA HARRY!) brought up an issue: Adrienne is a witch, so why didn't she blast Jake in the beginning? Because she was playing with Jake. Also, I'm sure everyone can guess this, but Adrienne's control is bad. Very bad, so she avoids using magic unless it's a last resort. Also, wouldn't it get boring if that was all she did to beat the bad guy? I think so...

LoveBob