The Taste of Time Lord
Author: Naomitrekkie
Series: Doctor Who and Twilight
Rating: T
Synopsis: While out hunting, the Cullens encounter a strange man and discover Time Lord blood bites back.
Timeline: Seven years after Breaking Dawn; towards the beginning of the second season of New Who.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga, Doctor Who, or any of their characters.
A/N: Happy 2011! As a present, enjoy the rest of this fic!
Chapter Three: Rage
She knew it was over when she registered the silence. There was not a sound to be heard—quite a contrast to her father's deafening screams. There was no mistaking it—he was gone.
"How-how is this possible?" He's a vampire. He can't die!
"I believe it's my fault."
Renesmee snapped her head up and was on her feet before the man could even blink.
"What do you mean, this is your fault?"
"I've just been talking with my ship and she told me some rather . . . interesting details about your father's telepathic abilities. It seems his contact with her mind was too much for him and his brain exploded."
Renesmee was so shocked, she didn't realize to wonder how he knew Edward had been her father, or about his abilities. Even her thoughts could not form any semblance of coherent ideas.
The man watched her cautiously, worrying about her reaction. Going so still was never a good sign, and particularly not when connected to instances of death. No, this was not a good sign, and he knew it. Now, what can I do to help her . . .
Renesmee was lost in her own world. Nothing from the outside registered, so she didn't notice the man's cautious steps towards her nor his attempt to take her hand to comfort her.
"Ouch."
That woke Renesmee from her lala land, just in time to see the man jump back, shaking his hand.
"Quite some thoughts you have there." He added a nervous chuckle at the end, but it only added to the tension.
The man's brown eyes caught Renesmee's and something inside her snapped. In that moment, she managed her first coherent thought.
He's the reason Father's dead.
That was enough to set her off. The man stood no chance. In the blink of an eye, she was on him, attacking.
In her enraged state, Renesmee was far from her best. The man used this to his advantage when dodging her blows. His own agility and speed proved advantageous as well, but, mortal as he was, he eventually grew tired.
It was downhill from there.
First, it was some scratches. Then broken bones. Finally, it came down to his neck. Renesmee bit, draining the man's blood and injecting every ounce of rage telepathically, never noticing the funky taste of his blood or the irregular beat of what could only be two hearts.
The man screamed, his blood on fire, but not from the venom—seeing as Renesmee was venom-less and all—but the rage. The never ending rage poured into the Doctor until the whole world turned black.
To Be Continued . . .
