This chapter is shorter than the others...only because I'm illegally tired. I really wanted to get this up before I went to sleep though, and voila! I finally managed it at 2:05 in the morning. Dedicated, eh?
As you can probably tell, I'm trying not to hurry this story along, so it doesn't seem rushed. It'll pick up soon, I promise, but it'll take a couple more chapters for Nayeli to finally give in and tell Paul she loves him (like you didn't know it was coming, I mean really). Enjoy!
Love,
Angie Anonymous
FOUR.
Paul huffed, lifting himself from my bedroom floor with his hands like he was going to do a push-up. Once he was standing, he brushed off his jeans and crossed his arms, watching me.
After a few moments, I got fed up. "What?"
His eyes were transfixed on mine, and smoldering. I immediately felt my knees grow weak, and clutched at my dresser for support. Quickly, I turned and began to rummage through my dresser drawer, searching for pants. Anything. I found a pair of red shorts and quickly tugged them over my legs.
"Vanilla?"
I whirled to face him again. Seriously, the freak could stand so silently, I'd forget he was there. How could he be so graceful and so…big? Must be a werewolf thing.
"Uh…what?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together and my nose wrinkling in confusion.
"Vanilla. That's what you smell like. And…metal." Paul's face was thoughtful.
Well, this was an interesting conversation. "Ah," I began, pacing over to sit on my bed. Damned if I was going to stand for the duration of this weird-fest. "So, you sneak into my room via window, nearly break the floor…and then tell me I smell like metal?" Was he insane? "Did you drink your dinner, Creepy?"
At this, Paul let out a booming laugh that seemed to shake me to my core. I pulled my legs up under me, sitting Indian-style. Paul moved slowly to sit next to me, his weight creating a lull, which forced me closer. The heat radiating from him swept over my body, and, before I knew what I was doing, I had both of my arms wrapped around one of his tree trunk-like ones.
Paul didn't move. He only tensed for a moment, then each of his muscles relaxed in turn under my touch. I sighed. "God, you're freezing," he mumbled, reaching over with this available hand to rest it against my upper arm. I nodded against his shoulder, where my face was pressed.
"My temperature is like, ninety-five, ninety-six on a good day," I explained, burrowing myself closer to his warmth, "I don't know why." I added, when I saw him open his lips to ask. We stayed in that comfortable silence for a moment, before Paul suddenly ruined it.
"So, you love me yet?"
I growled and shoved him away as best I could, resulting in me nearly being vaulted straight off the bed. Paul reached over and caught me before I hit the floor. "My, aren't we graceful?" He sneered, and that stupid smirk appeared on his lips.
"My, aren't we stupid? Get off me, dork," I hissed, pushing his hands away and readjusting my shorts and shirt. Then, I glared at him. "Sam probably knows you're here," I stated, and when he looked confused, I elaborated. "Because, he can read your mind when you're in wolf form, remember? Yeah, he definitely knows you're here."
Paul's face paled, and I laughed. As if on cue, I heard the kitchen door bang open.
"PAUL!"
I pointed right in his face, my eyes dancing with mirth. "HAH! Idiot, I told you!" But Paul's face wasn't smiling. Something flashed in his eyes, and he reached up to rub angrily at his nose, as if he smelled something unpleasant. I immediately reached for him.
"Paul? What's going on?"
He ignored me, leaping up from my bed and speeding down the stairs. I followed suit, not about to be left out of this.
Sam, along with the rest of the pack, was standing in the kitchen, his eyes hard. Paul joined quickly, stopping in front of the Alpha, just like the others. Jacob was in front of the group, at Sam's right. With a final nod, my brother began to stride out of the house, without so much as acknowledging me.
"Leech, very close. Took a hiker near the mountains. Don't stop until it's taken care of. Move out."
"Sam!" I called, following them out onto the porch. I grabbed both my brother's arm and Paul's, hauling backward as best I could. They both turned to look at me, aggravated, as the rest of the pack sprinted off into the heather.
"What the hell is going on? Where's Emily?" Questions flew from my mouth as I dug my nails into their tough skin, Sam glaring at me and Paul pleading to be let go.
"She's at the Clearwater's. She'll be staying there. It's a young one, not very experienced, so it won't take that long. Stay in the house, Nayeli, I'm serious. Stay in your room, lock the front door, and your room. Stay away from the window." Sam's speech was long winded and fast, his words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall. My breathing became erratic.
"But…what do you mean 'taken care of'? You're not…going out after it, are you?" I asked, terror welling in my throat. My eyes traveled from Sam to Paul, wide and bright.
"Of course," Sam scoffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Remember, stay here. I love you." My brother kissed my forehead, before darting out into the brush. I clasped onto Paul's arm with my now free hand, attempting to pull him back into the house. "Don't go," I plead, "don't."
So, I chose now to care? Of course, typical me. I'd just been insulting him, and now I didn't want him to go throw himself at a vampire? I was losing it, I swear I was. But, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew it, I didn't really hate Paul. I didn't really want him to leave me alone. I wanted to be with him, to love him. I wanted him to love me. But I was childish, and afraid of being abandoned. I'd never admit that to him, not to anyone.
Paul pulled me into his arms, pressing his lips briefly to my forehead, before shoving me back in the house and locking the door wordlessly.
I let out a whimper, before collecting myself, and strutting determinedly toward the living room. I pulled my shoes out from under the couch, not really caring that I looked absolutely preposterous, clad only in these tiny shorts, a gigantic t-shirt, and high top zebra striped Chuck Taylors. Knotting my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head, I crept silently out the creaky door.
The night was cold upon my already frigid skin. The stars weren't plentiful, due to cloud cover, but the half-moon gave me barely enough light to see. I trudged angrily through the forest, not really knowing where I was going, but determined to find the Pack and drag all their stupid asses right back to that house, where they were safe.
I don't know how long I wandered listlessly through the forest before I tripped. The stupid log jumped out at me, I swear.
I hit the forest floor hard on my hands and knees, wincing as my palms scraped over the tiny rocks littering the ground. As I watched, a trickle of blood seeped from one of the creases. Shit.
I stood as quickly as I could, eyeing the forest around me. Oh, awesome, you are so smart, applauded the sensible-in-my-head-girl, you are just amazing. I growled inwardly at her, before whipping around and flinging myself through the trees.
Get home, douse hand in bleach, pray to the Goddess or God of whatever-the-fuck-religion that the ruddy vampire didn't smell my blood. That sounded like a good plan to me. I'd obviously been thinking too hard, because I didn't even feel the granite wall hurtle into my back until I was on the ground.
The skin of the creature was ghostly white, like alabaster. His hair hung dark in his face, over perfectly angled features that made me kind of jealous. His shirtless chest was toned and smooth. His eyes were red. Blood red.
I froze. Well, I was a goner. What a way to go, eh? Die by vampire. And I wouldn't even live to tell the tale! But hadn't I always said I wanted to die in an interesting way? Get eaten by zombies or something? I guess a vampire would have to do.
Too bad my body wasn't working well with my mind, which had already greatly accepted the fact that I was going to die. No, my arms and legs were working frantically as the creature stared down at me, a playful, deadly look on his face. The face that a hungry cat wears when he finally corners that mouse he's been chasing down. He wasn't going to make this quick.
My lungs sucked in as much air as I could muster, before I let out the most gut-wrenching, blood-curdling scream I think I'd ever heard. It kind of embarrassed me that I was going to die with a scream on my lips, not a smile, like I'd originally planned.
The creature wasn't pleased. He'd obviously expected me to be stunned into terrified silence. My scream died away as he hissed and raked his finger-nail-claw-type-things across my forearm, the one I'd thrust up the shield my face. I vaguely felt him scrape the milky white bones. I didn't scream this time, I only whimpered pathetically. I really sucked at this whole 'accepting death by a mythical creature' thing.
And suddenly, as I expected the cold, razor sharp teeth of the vampire to descend upon me, a howl pierced the air. Followed by ten more long, angry, protective calls. The Pack. My Pack. Oh thank the Goddesses and Gods of whatever-the-fuck-religion! Screw 'ready to die'! I wanted to live!
The hulking black shape I knew to be Sam positioned himself cleanly over my bleeding, weak body. The candy-red liquid was seeping steadily from my arm, causing me to become dizzy and disoriented. It was all happening so fast.
A silver wolf, flecked with darker shades, launched himself deftly from the bushes, connecting with the granite-wall that was my attacker with a loud thud. The wolf snarled viciously, locking his jaws around the creature's neck, and twisting. A piercing sound of metal twisting away from metal filled the air, and I attempted to cover my ears. Bending my injured arm was a bad idea.
With a breathy cry of pain, I pulled my sopping arm against my stomach, attempting to wrap it in my over-sized shirt. Sam-wolf bent his equally dark nose down to the wound, sniffing at it, and then he lapped at the blood with his tongue. He gave a gruff, short kind of wolf-nod to the rest, who, in turn, began to tear at the still struggling vampire.
Sam barked a gruff order then, and the pack backed away into the trees. Several angry, ripping sounds later, the wolves human counterparts appeared, dressed in cutoff jeans -with the exception of Leah, who was clad in a pair of shorts and a big t-shirt, much like myself. Seth struck a match and dropped it upon the glittering white remains. My arm throbbed.
The Sam-wolf darted off into the trees, I assumed to phase. It was then that another dark, russet face appeared above me, worried and horrified.
"Nayeli? Nay, can you hear me?" Ah, the one voice I longed to hear.
"Paul…" I whispered feebly, making to reach up to him. He swept me quickly into his arms, making sure not to jar my injury, which was still sucking away my life-force. Paul seemed to sense this, and began to run, the Pack and Sam at his heels.
"Shh," I heard him whisper, "you're safe now. I've got you." Before it went dark.
I opened my eyes, hoping for the beige ceiling that was my bedroom.
But I was greeted by a painful -quite painful- bright, white light.
"Oh fuck, I seriously died?" I muttered, reaching up with my right arm to sweep the now dry hair from my face. Okay, that one worked fine, now let's try the other one.
When I attempted to lift my left arm, an involuntary shriek left my lips. I gritted my teeth together and cut it off in the middle, so it choked down to a dull moan as I clutched my arm to me, now feeling the thick, white bandages. Another moan escaped my lips as I thrashed my head about, attempting to stir the memories.
Vampire. Howling. Sam. Seth. Jacob. Embry. Quil. Leah. Collin. Brady. Jared. Paul.
"Paul?!" I screamed, flinging my upper body into a sitting position. My head swam sickeningly and my stomach turned, my arm throbbed, but I didn't care. My eyes were searching frantically, my good hand outstretched to the other end of the couch.
And, suddenly, he was there, grasping that searching hand, kneeling by me, his eyes worried. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?" He fussed, reaching down to touch my arm tentatively, with gentle fingers.
I studied him. There were no new scratches on his face or arms, and he looked healthy enough, if not scared shitless. The dark circles under his eyes seemed even more prominent.
I quickly recovered myself.
"Of course it hurts, stupid," I spat back, wincing as I pulled my arm away from him. I immediately regretted being so horrible to him, he'd just saved my life.
He'd just saved my life. He could have been killed.
I flung my good arm around his neck, drawing myself closer. "Oh god, Paul!" I cried, burying my face in his shoulder. "Are you okay? Did it hurt you? Oh god, where are the others?" Stupid questions. Yeah, you might want to shut the hell up now, I'm still mad at you, moron.
"Stupid in-my-head-girl, shut your big, fat mouth already! GOD!"
Oh, I'd said that out loud again. I really needed to work on that.
"Uh, anyway, Paul, ignore me. Is everyone else alright?" I asked brusquely, unwrapping my arm from his neck and settling with my back against the arm rest. Utterly bemused, Paul faltered for a moment, before answering.
"Yeah, everyone's fine. They left a little after we got you back in the house, to see if it had a mate somewhere or something." His tone was wary, cautious. Paul was watching me like I was a cracked china doll, placed precariously at the edge of a shelf. I glared at him. "What?" I asked, "do I really look that bad?"
Paul seemed to shake himself, bringing his eyes back into focus.
"What? No, no, it's not that. It's just…you're being so nice to me. Why are you being nice to me?" He seemed genuinely alarmed, and that made me kind of mad. What if I had been falling for him, huh? How would that have made me feel?
Was I falling for him?
PSH NO! My subconscious scoffed, much to my distaste. I must be developing some kind of inner schizophrenia or something. Hey, it could happen, right? More likely, it would definitely happen to me.
"Well, if you don't want me to be nice to you, then," I groused, folding my arms -ish- and glaring at him with angry yes, "I won't be nice to you. Now get away from me. You stink." And Paul did just that. He leaned away from the couch heavily, pushing himself up using the opposite arm rest. I was glowering deeply in my direction as he sulked into the kitchen, but I was sure that I saw the distinct flash of amusement in his deep, brown eyes.