3
Underneath my smile, holding back a scream
A thousand words, trapped inside of me
CHAPTER 3
CARLISLE
There was nothing about her to suggest that she was the killer she claimed to be.
Even when she was poised in a crouch, ready to attack with her body prepared to fight, her expression was of utter blankness and control. Her granite expression and precise body movements defied the persona of a rabid and uncontrollable killer that had been attached to the Eidolon's name.
As Esme, Rosalie and I stood aside in a dazed shock, allowing her to enter our home, the lips of the petite brunette tilted in an amused smirk as her extremely dark eyes gleamed with a concoction of emotions.
We all blindly followed the small woman into the opulently decorated main living room, the anxious emotions of the past few days riding all of our nerves into a stunned stupor as we continued to gaze at the woman who couldn't even be older than my sons.
The woman was an anomaly to my staggered mind, her porcelain skin and delicately soft features spoke of a pure innocence that defied every single thing we had heard about the Eidolon, and yet the shadows that slithered in the depths of her dark eyes, were so hauntingly disturbing to witness and left no doubt in my mind the she had earned the killer name that she possessed.
The frightening emptiness of her expression and the soul-deep agony that blackened her eyes were undeniably clear to see. Her ivory features seemed to be chiselled from ice; I scrutinised her with an overwhelming curiosity and was incredibly unnerved as I saw the pain and chaos that even she could not hide beneath her hardened skin.
With every blink, another page of her tormented soul turned to reveal the horrors within.
I began to feel nausea creep up into my throat as I realised that even someone so controlled as she, could not bury the agony that had been inflicted upon her.
Rosalie, Esme and I sat on the couch opposite to the woman who continued to sit with both demureness and slight impatience. I turned towards Esme, and I felt the cracks in my heart splinter as I observed the maternally heartbroken expression on my wife's face, Esme gazed at the petite woman just as I had, and a small and sad frown quirked my lips as tears brimmed my loving wife's eyes.
I gently took hold of Esme's hand; Rose grasped her other before speaking in a strong tone.
"My name is Rosalie and I am Emmett's fiancé," she stated firmly, she pointed towards Esme and I, "you obviously know the President and First Lady, and you are?"
My breathing was erratic as I stared at the brunette, my sons faces appearing in my anxiety-tinged vision.
"My name is Isabella and I am the one assigned to retrieve the rest of your family," she replied, her deep yet soft voice washing over us as she continued to sit stiffly with her hands folded in her lap. The smooth lilt of her voice surprised me as gentle waves of calm and hope washed over me, my heart beating to its normal rhythm for the first time since I heard the news of my sons kidnapping.
In just a few short minutes, this dangerous killer of a woman somehow had my trust, sympathy and faith.
It was frightening to imagine how many may have trusted her, and how many may now be dead.
"So do we call you Isabella or do you expect us to call you the Eidolon? Because I must say that the Eidolon just sounds stupid when someone says it."
My eyes bugged to extraordinary proportions as I stared with an open mouth at Rose.
Rose had always been headstrong, and perfectly so to contrast against Emmett's impulsive nature, yet Rose's distress over the kidnapping had made her incredibly volatile and acerbic to anyone that crossed her. My thoughts were in frenzy as both Esme and I's heads swivelled like bobble-heads from Rose's upturned, stubborn face, to Isabella, who stared at Rosalie as if nothing had been spoken.
"I happen to agree with you Rosalie; I would actually prefer to be called Bella, if you would be so kind"
I had never seen Rose so stunned, her mouth dropped as if she hadn't expected the robotic-like figure to have an answer to such a spontaneous reply.
"Ok, uh... Bella"
"Thank you, Rosalie"
Rosalie shifted uncomfortably, casting suspicious glances at Isabella and I could see that she did not believe that the woman was the Eidolon killer.
"How do we know that you are the real Eidolon? You don't even look like a killer; you look 20 for god sake!"
I didn't even bother with being shocked as my eyes closed in exasperation, bringing my palm up to my face and causing a soft smack to echo in the room. I wondered whether it was possible for a face-palm to just knock me out now so that I didn't have to apologise to a world-renowned assassin and now have to beg said murderer to go to a foreign country to rescue three Navy Seal's who happen to be the United States President's sons. You know, as usual.
"Rose!" Esme snapped, her face scrunched up and became splotched with red.
I opened my mouth to apologise but was cut off as Isabella's face tilted up into a tiny smile.
I was as frozen as Medusa's victims as I witnessed the miniscule turning of the woman's features, rusty little dimples and creases appeared like her mouth had never been in that position before. Her entire face lightened with the smallest smile, directed at a surprised Rose, and I felt the urge to smile back just looking at her as she suddenly appeared to be an ordinary young girl, Esme didn't hold back as I glanced at the beaming smile that was on my wife's face.
The power of this woman was both confusing and frightening, I had no doubt she was who she said she was and all I could feel was grateful instead of selfish that someone like her was going to save my sons.
Her smile disappeared as quickly as it came, and her face immediately dropped back into smooth lines and hardened surfaces of porcelain as she answered Rose's questions.
"I can certainly prove to you that I am the Eidolon," a chill coursed through my body at the woman's foreboding words, "but I doubt that you would like to clean up blood this late at night. The way that I look is a distinct advantage in my line of work, just as my age is, which actually happens to be 23"
"I... uh..." Rose stuttered as she recovered from the plainly stated words of Isabella, "I still don't believe it"
I readied my hand so that I could hit my face hard enough just as Isabella's words stopped me.
"Observational skills and deductive reasoning are traits that you are required to have if you wish to succeed in executing a successful kill," Isabella stared at Rose, the blonde woman captured in the intensity of the other's gaze. Isabella's words were monotonic and textbook-like, thoroughly taught to her and mechanically repeated to us, I was nauseous again as I thought of the past of this woman so young.
"These traits are ones that I have, and are traits that tell me that the only two bodyguards in the room are both behind my back in attempts to be covert as they stand silently and away from my periphery, and yet the one on my left is on his phone judging by the noise and the other desperately needs to use the bathroom based on the erratic scuffing of his shoes on the floor. I suggest you let him as he is not going to last another 5 minutes and this carpet is rather beautiful.
"Rosalie, you are deeply distrustful of men but have not always been, you sit on the edge of the couch, your back is to the wall with a perfect view of all the exits and males in the room and your eyes unconsciously scan the room every minute. Your body, even sitting down is balanced to fight; your feet are shoulder width apart, arms and core are tense and your hands ball into properly taught fists all which mean that you took up defensive training, probably at the insistence of your fiancé. The reasoning for such paranoia is clear and I assume that the two people next to you are aware as they are naturally positioning themselves in front of you in protection as I speak.
"I say this is not to be cruel but because no matter your anger Rosalie, you would be emotionally inclined to respect me for such a socially coarse speech. Your abrasive personality and natural liking of strong characters makes me believe so. I require the respect of not just you, Rosalie, but all three of you so that you can believe I will get the job done and allow me to do so without interruptions or doubt."
Utter silence.
Utter. Goddamn. Silence.
In my frozen state of mind, I registered the sight of one of the bodyguard agents in the right corner of the room rush off in an awkward sprint towards the bathroom. Everyone's breath was caught in their throats at Isabella's blatant display, a tingling sense of paranoia crawled up my body at the knowledge that this woman could accumulate about my family and I.
Rosalie's breaths were harsh, my mind was simply shut down in disbelief as I stared in worry at Rose's state and yet, whilst her nostrils flared in absolute fury I could see the respect and curiosity in the depths of her amber eyes. Isabella was right.
"You, I-I, you," Rose continued to stutter in absolute incredulity, staring at Isabella as if she had never seen her before, "just... fuck... I don't... h-how are you going to bring back the boys, my Emmett?"
An unexpected and exhausted smile graced my lips at Rose's words; her abrupt question was her acceptance and admission of respect.
"I can't disclose any details of the mission to any of you. I apologise," Isabella added quickly as Esme twisted her head quickly in an indignant air, "as if any enemy agents were to somehow get a hold of any of you, I do not want to take the chance that the mission be compromised."
"What!" cried Rose, her emotional form returning as she stood up in anger, "we have the right to know! None of us would ever tell any enemy douche-bags anything! How the fuck could you think that?"
Esme pulled Rosalie back down to the couch as Isabella's mahogany eyes narrowed, her emotions indecipherable as her face remained set in stone.
"I think that because I know so; I've maimed, I've disembowelled, I've tortured, I've killed, pick anything you want Rosalie, because I know that in my life I've probably done it. I've never crossed the line by deliberately killing an innocent but you are deluded if you think that all people in my line of work hold the same ethic. They will not hesitate to never let you, Emmett, Jasper or Edward ever see the light of day again no matter who the hell you are. And I know that. I know what they are doing to those three men right now and I know that I cannot tell you the details of the mission because one of those 'enemy douche-bags' would not even blink an eye at throwing you in the same cell as your fiancé to die."
It felt like déjà vu as the room fell into an intense silence once more and every breath was tight, the ice in my chest gripped my heart in an unrelenting vice as with every word of Isabella's, the frozen fingers of fear flexed and pummelled my heart into tatters.
"Please," my wife cried softly, her voice breaking as she stared imploringly at the woman before us, "we believe you and you have our belief in your abilities... just please, save them?"
"Ma'am," Isabella stated quietly and uncomfortably, her entire demeanour flipping as easily as the turn of a coin, "my mission is to bring your sons back and assassinate the perpetrators. I have never failed in any of my tasks, and I..." she broke off, her eyebrows creasing as if she had never comforted another human being before, "I don't intend to fail this one either, ma'am"
Tears of relief sprung into my eyes at the oddly disjointed yet comforting words.
"Thank you, thank you so much," whispered Esme, her voice laced with rivulets of emotion, "and please call me Esme, Bella"
Isabella's reaction to Esme's tearful gratitude and display of emotion was weirdly fascinating as she sat back into the chair, her features tilting into an expression of slight confusion with her head cocked to the side, studying us as we studied her.
"Alright... Esme," Bella said cautiously, causing Esme to tearfully grin and happily squeeze my hand with her own.
"And please call me Carlisle as well, Bella," I added, the tension in my chest warring with the newfound hope that I desperately clutched with all my heart.
"I guess you can call me Rose than," Rosalie stated nonchalantly, flicking her hair as she brought her hand up to inspect her nails and I couldn't help the quiet burst of laughter that erupted from my chest at Rosalie's display of casualness in front of a legendary assassin.
Esme's sweet giggles soon joined my own growing laughter and before long, Esme, Rose and I were grasping our sides as the living room bounced with a mix of our rambunctious laughter.
My stomach felt raw as we all calmed down from our laughter, a few random chuckles springing from my throat as I wiped my eyes and raised my head to Bella's leather chair opposite of us.
My laughter trailed off as I stared at the empty chair, I turned my head in search of the brunette woman and could see the bodyguard in the back searching too, but with no luck.
She had disappeared like a ghost fading back into the underworld, our remnant laughter being the only evidence that she was ever in our presence. Esme, Rose and I could do nothing but stare at each other in confusion and odd acceptance.
"Well I liked her," Rose piped up.
I was convinced that no matter how far the mysterious Eidolon had glided, she would still have been able to hear the thunderous laughter that erupted from all three of us at Rose's words, all of our pain and all of our hope in this enigma of a woman ricocheting off the walls as we laughed our emotions away.
...
BELLA
I was stupefied. Dumbfounded. Just plain mind-fucked.
Had it been so long since I had engaged in healthy human-interaction that I could not even comprehend laughter?
Yes. Yes it had been. Meeting an actual family for the first time had been... astounding. From their linked hands in search of comfort, their protective stances and unabashed tears; obviously I knew that there were families in the world that loved each other but to see it so casually, so open, all my mind could comprehend was raw shock and a twisted sense of fascination.
The sound of their laughter felt like someone was clapping me with cymbals; it was unafraid and just resonated with the release of pure emotion, they were so free to express their pain or joy even in their own time of turmoil.
Is that what it was like to be human?
I had never felt as... clean as I had in their presence, their genuine natures were something I had not seen in anyone I had ever met. I felt like a black hole sitting in that pristine leather chair, a swirling mass of destruction and pure obsidian that had no business being among the stars, among people that didn't deserve the pain that was inflicted upon them.
Their terror for the Cullen sons was transparent despite all of them having their different methods of dealing with it; Esme cried, Carlisle was silent; Rosalie took all the opportunities she could to vent her anger.
Before my reaction to Rosalie's outbursts, I had never been taken by surprise; when Rosalie spat out her remarks, my mouth had turned upwards in an amused and appreciating smile before I realised what my own face was doing. I could practically hear the muscles in my cheeks creaking, I can't remember the last time I smiled, even as small as I had before.
My mouth turned down into a scowl, something it was much more familiar with, as I pushed away all thoughts of meeting the Cullen's and continued to speed through the twisted roads of the animated city.
I slowed to a crawl as I turned into a glowing street lined with flamboyant lights and bursting with drunken people. The line of hot pink neon signs flashed with an eye-blinding power, illuminating the heated couples that dotted the sidewalk and skimpy dressed people of both sexes that waved enticingly to their marks.
I continued down the street unnoticed, weaving through the inebriated crowd as I crawled to the darker end of the street that was only seen due to the faded pink lights of the clubs next door. I caught sight of the dingy grey and blue sign I was looking for and quickly pulled into the mechanic shop, causing several random drunkards to holler and trip over themselves.
I pulled into an empty spot quietly, the sound of the engine being masked by the loud thrum of the shop speakers and faded bass from the clubs next door. I turned off the engine before opening the glove compartment and pulling out the Beretta that I had used on the two men in the alley earlier in the night, leaving the silencer in the compartment before shutting it again.
I slipped the gun into the pocket of my thick coat before exiting the car and went unseen as the squeaking sounds of metal and the burning fumes of spray paint absorbed into the dirty brick walls of the car shop.
The massive and brightly-lit warehouse inside was a distinct opposite to the decrepit and dingy appearance of the shop outside that one would have thought to be small from its ruined frame.
All of the grease-covered men ran around with their lumbering gaits, dodging sparks and avoiding puddles of car oil before sticking their heads into open bonnets. Stolen car parts littered the walls as other workers inspected them before choosing their piece to strip the paint and remove all traces of past evidence.
I walked around the edges of the large building, still going unnoticed as I detached a chord from the security camera on the east corner with a swift pull and began to look around for the specific mechanic I wanted.
He was sitting in his office just a few metres away from me, I could see even from my limited view that he was distracted as he looked into a filing cabinet underneath the desk. The office was a large room that was built into the back wall and had a glass front that enabled him to observe all activity of the workshop.
The few men that were scattered across the back wall stared curiously as I walked towards the office in my leather platform pumps and black trench coat. Another man, tall, tattooed and clad in dirty blue overalls, was walking towards the office but had not noticed me as his head was down, focusing on cleaning his greasy hands onto on even greasier rag. I could see his ears perk up as he caught sound of my shoes clicking on the matting of the floor before his dilating eyes rose slowly over my suggestive outfit and to my smirking face.
We reached the door at the same time, my hand grasping the cool silver handle first as I placed my other hand softly onto his chest.
His hands rose up, as if he was unaware of his actions, to take hold of my waist but he froze as I tightly clenched my hand into the fabric of his shirt and deepened my smirk into sinister lines.
I pulled his head down slightly towards my own to place my lips near his ear, his large brown eyes widened comically and I resisted the urge to breathe out a laugh at the man's lack of strength.
"I have quite an urgent appointment with your boss," I whispered into his ear, lowering my voice to a soft and sultry tone, "and I suggest that you don't interrupt us and cause a delay, he probably doesn't want to pay more than he already has too"
I almost laughed at the full-body shudder that visibly ran throughout his body and I quickly used his distraction to open the office door and slip through swiftly. I closed the door behind me, turning away from the dazed man and causing the cacophonous noises of the chop shop to fade away into nothing as the door sealed into the frame, soundproof.
Keeping my eyes away from the man in the office who was now watching my every move, I walked to the edge of the room and pulled the strings of the blinds down, shielding our impending conversation from the rest of the warehouse.
The man's nerves were palpable despite his seemingly bored stance; his chest moved with even yet shallow breaths as his hands minutely twitched towards the SIG Saur that sat on top of the papers on his desk, the metal glinting in the bright lights of the office.
"What are you doing here, la sombre?"
I sneered at such a stupid question, "Why else would I be here, Ashley? I need weapons and in case you have forgotten, I'm pretty sure that you are a weapons dealer, yes?"
The man's chest heaved with irritation at being addressed with such disrespect; his eyes narrowed as his previous fear became overwhelmed with anger, his tanned South-American skin flushing with a furious red.
Ashley Romero was definitely not accustomed to a lack of courtesy, having been born to one of the 'Kings' of the Spanish cartels he was born to a fortune that was wealthier than God. When his father passed away, Ashley, in his mid 40s had assumed the head of the cartel as the eldest child and had relocated to America where he began to become known in the underworld as he distributed guns and drugs to anyone who had the money. The Romero gangs were notorious, ruthless and yet rarely were they ever in any gang wars; they acted as middle men, establishing connections and supplying other cartels without discrimination but with the clause that their buyers would never use the given weapons to bite the hand that fed. As simple as it was, it worked; other gangs allowed them to grow and share their land just so they would have access to the superior and clean material that the Romero's provided.
They were the strongest and smartest of suppliers; and despite his age and lanky, thin frame that was at first glance, unintimidating, the oldest Romero had done nothing but improve his family business with cut-throat efficiency. They were the suppliers I had used for years and had only ever dealt with Ashley specifically; I was given more security with the Romero cartels as I had done several contracts for them over the years, and had their protection despite their fear of my legend.
My ability to also bring down their rival organisations protects the Romero cartels livelihood considerably and in return, they supply any vehicles, papers and weaponry of all kinds that I ask for at a reduced price. Despite the comfortable exchange of services, the relationship I held with the crime boss was anything but comfortable, but it was necessary, and in the end people like us never really had the lifestyle to accommodate friends.
"I told you not to come here again, usted está loco!"
"Well, I didn't listen. There was no way I was going to meet in your other office, Romero; it's in a brothel for fuck sake!"
Romero resignedly threw his hands up into the air before sinking back into his office chair, leaving the gun on his desk in full view of both of us.
"I think this will be enough to change your mind about the inconvenience, Romero"
I pulled back the collar of my coat, deftly reaching into my bra for the small and thin polaroids before throwing them onto the desk, causing them to scatter all over the expanse in front of Romero.
He sat up with lighting speed, his weary and angry face transforming into an expression of feverish delight as he took in the gruesome sights of blood and gore depicted in the several photographs I had thrown before him.
"Dios mío," he breathed, his hands collecting the grotesque photos before reverently sifting through them, drinking in the sight of the two rapists bloodied, beaten and barely able to keep themselves upright against those filthy alley walls that seemed to pulsate with music even through the still photos.
"These are the right ones? You are sure?" He asked strongly, his eyes glinting with a psychotic gleam.
"Yes, Romero, those are the two, I caught them before they went off with their last target"
"Esos pendejos!" Romero's face twisted up in fury and disgust, "These bastards would have permanently hurt my niece if she had not gotten free, but even now she refuses to leave her room! I would ask if you made them suffer but I can clearly see that you did," he muttered the last sentence with glee in his voice as continued to rifle through the polaroids that I had taken right before I had called the CIA director.
"And you did not give anything away about my business, la sombre? No indication about the true vendetta, nothing that could have been overheard?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "you don't hire me because I am an amateur, Romero. No, the alley way is behind a club so no one could hear, it was deserted and a dead end, there was no way for anyone to hide without me seeing them there."
"And these two are still there?"
"Yes, for about 4 hours. And here's the gun," I said as I pulled the Beretta out of my coat pocket and placed it on the desk, "can I get it back after you scrape it down?"
"Of course. Everything you want today is free; consider it as a personal thankyou from my familia."
"Excellent, do you have everything I asked for?"
Romero nodded in response before standing up to his large height and walking to the western wall of his huge office where two differently sized black hardware crates sat in the far corner. Keeping me in his sights, he bent down to the larger of the crates to input a password, that I observed, into the computerised keypad causing the keypad to beep green and release the latch of the crate with a small snicket noise.
"This one is the weapons," he stated before standing up and going to the other crate with was the size of briefcase.
I fully opened the heavy-duty crate and felt an exploding bolt of pleasure course through my exhilarated form as the scent of newly formed metal hit my senses, and I took in the magnificent site of the weapons that lined the foam ground of the crate.
One SR-25 sniper rifle, one A5 Browning shotgun, two Beretta M9 pistols and several other shiny new guns were all prettily lined up in their dustproof cases; sting and explosive grenades were also placed in the crate around the guns along with a few other toys that would surely come in handy. I felt my body erupt in tingles as the urge to test out my new weapons hit me with the strength of a freight train.
Every woman loves their sparkly gems. Mine just happen to shoot bullets.
"And this one is the papers; I had my best do the work as you only called yesterday"
Romero broke me out of my besotted trance as I looked up at the other open briefcase that was filled with various envelopes. I sadly closed the lid of the gun menagerie before taking hold of the briefcase from Romero's hands and placing it on top of the bigger crate. I opened the first envelope to reveal 3 different sets of passports, license cards, birth certificates, social security numbers, and all other possible identification papers that all held my face with different names. They were perfectly forged and no law enforcement would be able to catch the lie within the fake papers.
Pulling the other envelopes out of the case, I kept Romero in my sights as I pulled out the papers from the second envelope and was pleased to see that the false papers for Emmett Cullen were just as perfectly done as my own. Quickly checking that the papers for the other Cullen brothers were as flawlessly forged and designed, I scanned over the spare identification papers and the different currency money bundles before I put the papers back into their respective envelopes before closing the briefcase back up. I needed these papers in case I needed to rush the brothers over any borders or needed to stop over somewhere that required identification where obviously, I would not be able to use their real names or pictures lest they get taken by any random dealer for ransom once more.
"And the password for the briefcase is the same as the gun case, Romero?"
"Yes, sombra..." he hesitated, his nervousness barely showing through his stiff stance, "I have a question"
"I thought we didn't ask questions, Romero"
"And that is why I do not even know your name but I have to ask, you plan to rescue the Cullen brothers, no? Bring them back to their familia?"
"Yes, the papers should have told you enough Ashley," I stated with ice in my voice, "I trust that you won't reveal this fact to anyone?"
"Of course not, I was simply curious whether the three brothers were your targets to kill or to retrieve"
"I was tasked with retrieving the brothers and eliminating the perpetrators, something which, in fact would benefit your own business with another rival gone"
Romero took a deep breath before his lips split into a wide grin of appreciation at my words, his gleaming white teeth contrasting with the russet tones of his skin as he made his way back to his desk with me following, black briefcase in my hands.
"I take it you want me to fly the gun crate over?"
I nodded in response to Romero's question as I made my way to the glass wall of his office, pulling back the blinds that I had previously shut to the exact position they had been in before.
"I am due to fly privately in about an hour to which I will arrive at my destination approximately mid-day tomorrow; will you be able to fly it over before then?"
Romero nodded, "where to?"
For unfathomably emotional reasons that I could not decipher, my lips unconsciously drifted into that foreign position of a tiny smile for the second time today as I registered Romero's question. My hands gripped the cool, silver handle of the glass door with a deathly hold as I forced the wisp of a smile away from my face and spat out my destination through gritted teeth.
"Volterra, Italy. Home of the Volturi mob and as of recently, the Cullen brothers."
...
THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who favourite or followed :)
And THANKS ESPECIALLY to those who reviewed and voted this story as a Top 5 September Favourite on A Different Forest; there is an amazing selection of stories in that list that need to be read and I am so happy to have even been considered.
There was a mistake when I first posted the chapter, Bella is 23 not 20 :)
