I'll just say I believe some of you have been waiting for this chapter, so I will not keep you . . .
But thanks to my fab beta, Jenny Cullen!
Chapter 7
Beethoven, Moonlight Sonata
OtherPOV
I reached my quarters and yielded to the knowledge that my beloved Catherine would slumber this night without the benefit of my constant vigilance. I had overheard Chief Charlie's parting remarks, relinquishing his personal security to that of his two underlings, who were unlike the boors who had arrived to investigate after my enchanting discussion with Catherine in the forest. As if their commonplace attire would dupe me into thinking they were anything but law enforcement officers.
I scanned my accommodations and sniffed the air, assuring that no one had invaded my sanctuary. Upon arriving, I had explained that privacy was crucial, providing a tale about authoring a manuscript, and that personal attendant service was unnecessary. The personnel and guests plagued my thirst, a cacophony of scents that severely tested my resolve. But my regimen of animal blood was vital to the disguise, as it would allow me to travel in relative freedom, without attracting suspicion. Aro and I had practiced, or shall I say tested, the abysmal act before my departure. He had explained this was how the Cullens were able to establish themselves in the surrounding community. Their unusual diet turned their eyes an amber color, which allowed them to interact with dim-witted humans. However, it was imperative that I travel far from the local area for meals, and completely hide any evidence of it, burying it or casting it into the sea.
So I endured. My mission could not, must not, be compromised by my instinctual hunger.
Aro had explained very little about these Cullens, only that their lifestyle choice was incomprehensible to the Volturi. The coven leader, Carlisle, had taken it upon himself to choose the path, and the others followed, whether blindly or educated, Aro did not explain. I knew it was a fairly large coven, numbering nine, and included a half-human, half-vampire child. Aro didn't explain and I didn't inquire, but he offered photographs so I would become familiar with each and avoid them.
However, Isabella Cullen was another matter entirely. Her fabled visit to Volterra as a human to recover the telepath Edward Cullen, along with the other woman who could see the future, coupled with the entire guard's trip to Forks, were only whispered about in the farthest recesses of the underground caverns. Her talent was legendary, and her ability to block Aro from her thoughts, a rare gift indeed. But those that dared share the tales mysteriously disappeared. Fortune had seen to it that I had only overheard their murmurs, but intellect recognized the advantage of keeping that knowledge locked away.
My eyes chanced around the rather derelict surroundings. Being within these four walls only once when I first arrived to relinquish my personal belongings, before returning immediately to surveil my quarry, I had not fully appreciated the general untidiness. The skill of the staff was questionable. I had often read about establishments referred to as "seedy motels". I now understood the idiom.
Admittedly, my frame of reference only included what I had gleaned from readings and research. I was a mere servant, rushing at any request of the triumvirate, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, and fulfilling with less enthusiasm the demands of the inferior members of the guard. While free to roam the underground tunnels of the city as I gained the trust of those above me, I had yet to attain an invitation to remain amongst them. I fed off unsuspecting humans who, by their happenstance or sheer unfortuitousness, crossed my path, although once I had been invited to one of Heidi's feasts in the great hall. Still, I longed to be one of them, to walk amongst them freely, and to leave the dark caverns below. This mission was my opportunity to reach this status, recompense for years of compliance.
It was during one of these promenades I had discovered my talent. Coming upon Demetri, my mind seized upon willing myself to disappear from view as I backed into the shadow of a recessed doorway. Strangely enough, Demetri walked within a hairsbreadth of me, and I was sure I would quickly be discovered. But dread melted into astonishment as he did not see, nor even scent, my presence. Once I recognized my ability and was able to recreate it, I began to practice so as to offer my services to Aro whenever needed. Aro took great interest, personally helping to refine it to the level it was now, nearly instantaneous once I thought about it. I was convinced it was the reason Aro had chosen me for this most important task.
Aro had been quite secretive about the impetus of this mission. Yes, I had been shown the demise of Catherine by my hands, and the subsequent fulfillment of all my hopes and dreams. I presumed Catherine was a threat, apparently enough so for Aro to dispatch someone to destroy her. But Aro offered no more explanation, and again, I didn't inquire. The reason Aro avoided sending Felix or Demetri was a mystery. Demetri, a renowned tracker, and Felix, with his brute strength, were more than sufficient against a powerless human. The only reason I could surmise was due to the actuality that Demetri and Felix had joined Aro and the rest of the guard when they traveled last to Forks. But I, even when Carlisle had been in Volterra, had never had any dealings with any of them. Perhaps this was the simple reason - the Cullens could easily identify both of them, but didn't know me at all.
So thus it was. My order, my duty - to kill the woman and return to Volterra for my reward. Uncomplicated. I could have accomplished it that first day, or quite a few opportunities since. It was only my indelible curiosity that postponed the inevitable and kept her alive.
Catherine. I walked to the bed, and reclined on the ineffective piece of furniture, breathing in the residue of the countless number of humans who had left remnants of themselves behind - evidence of their proclivities. My thoughts drifted to what I had witnessed in the most recent hours. My Catherine had nearly ended our time together with her penchant towards reckless activity this evening, what with her wantonness being so evidently displayed at the Chief's domicile. I smiled as my mind offered a vision of my lovely Catherine exhibiting that identical brazenness with me. Oh, what I wouldn't give now to touch her smooth skin as that simple human man had been given the right to do, to feel her demonstrative lips encompass my own, to surpass the limits that she herself had eventually set... To feel my cold hardness thrusting deep inside her warmth, and the ripples of her eventual release as my venom flowed into her. An outward moan astonished me. I decided Catherine was toying with me, testing me resolve, although she had no reason. She would be mine, regardless of some Chief Charlie.
Ah, yes. Chief Charlie. I arose to turn on the portable computing device Aro had insisted I learn how to use years ago. Although I hadn't strayed from the confines of Volterra, for to do so would have been certain death, Aro insisted I study the outside world, if only to practice my communication skills within the ever-evolving vernacular of the changing decades. I preferred to speak classical English - a vestige leftover from my human days. My portfolio of languages included Italian, German, Russian, and various dialects of Slavic origin, some from my time at University before being turned, and some learned after.
I waited while the computing machine, my laptop, achieved full awakening, and became conscious of the fact that determining Chief Charlie's surname would be a rather effortless task. A mere googling, another infinitely odd word of the time, would provide all the information necessary. I pressed the keys and formed the words "Forks Washington Chief of Police," and within moments, it appeared. Chief of Police Charlie Swan. Swan. With that information, I opened the program that would give access to electronic mail to check if Aro had dispatched any messages.
There were only two current ones, but the fact that Aro was compelled to send a second was rather unsettling. I opened the first:
Damian,
At your earliest convenience, please enlighten us with current events.
Aro
Hmmm. So brief, yet unmistakable. I then read the second.
Damian,
I'm assuming your lack of communication means that you find it necessary to withhold details of your progress. It would be such a pity if you were to return home unable to fulfill your obligation. We are here to assist you if need be; you need merely ask. Please let us know your whereabouts and any developments.
Aro
The thinly veiled threat was as transparent as newly-polished glass. Aro was not pleased. I knew I must report back and quickly. I decided upon instant messaging, trulyan amazing invention, and attempted to reach Aro.
Master Aro? Are you available?
I waited 32 seconds.
Ah! Damian! There you are! We wondered what had become of you.
Yes - wondered and most likely planned my demise if I failed to complete the mission.
I have news. I have located the objective, although there has been a minor complication. A Chief Charlie Swan has entered the arena. Requesting directives on how to deal with this matter.
I waited a full two minutes for a response.
Charlie Swan? You are most positive? You must be to send complete identification. Swan is Isabella Swan, now Isabella Cullen's, father. It is most unfortunate, since you must avoid the Cullens at all cost. Charlie Swan is unaware of the certain nature of the Cullens, and as long as he remains so, he is free of retribution. Besides, we cannot upset the tenuous peace we have with our brothers and sisters in the West. No, I'm afraid you must keep with only the intended outcome. Charlie Swan is excused from your mission. I remind you to keep vigilant of your special talent and not falter in light of these events.
Isabella Swan's father. Isabella Cullen. I nearly hurled the machine across the room, but collected myself to compose a reply.
I'm at your command. The task will be completed as you wish without delay.
It wasn't necessary to inform Aro at this time of my intent to delay as long as possible.
Thank you, dearest Damian. We await your return.
I quickly closed the programs and powered off the machine. Charlie Swan is excused?
Oh, the injustice of it!
I couldn't fathom the probability in which my dear Catherine would come upon a Cullen relation the first minutes of her arrival. If self-flagellation were still possible, or even an effective chastisement, I would have succumbed to the urge, as I evoked the countless opportunities that had gone for naught since her arrival.
I remind you to keep vigilant of your special talent and not falter in light of these events.
The last line of Aro's message returned to me, the reminder about my ability to cloak myself from others like me was indeed odd. Practice with Aro himself and members of the lesser guard had proved it reliable and impenetrable. He had assured me himself that the other creatures in the area, the wolves, would equally be shielded from my presence, since their primary prey were those like myself. Aro's knowledge of the future provided complete confidence, although I had not seen it with my own eyes, the proof lying somewhere in the vision that Aro had not allowed me to see. Perhaps it was just a subtle reminder, Aro taking it upon himself to guide me as any father would a child.
The Cullens. What about the psychic, the one that had accompanied Isabella Cullen? Had the woman seen my arrival? No. Aro would not have sent me had there been any possibility. Besides, as long as my cloak was in place, I was wholly invisible to any of my kind.
But what of my new yearning, the desire to study and learn from time outside my confines? I pondered this for a moment. If Aro were to summon me upon my return to Volterra, he would likely desire a moment with me to see firsthand the completion of my mission. My delay would be laid bare. Would Aro react negatively? No. Aro would compliment my cleverness, the ingenuity, of my now slowly forming secondary plan, and most assuredly take an ounce of pleasure in the infliction of indirect pain on the Cullens. I settled upon the ultimate comfort that Aro would see and relish her eventual termination, and forgive me my derivative.
Chief Charlie Swan. Venom pooled in my mouth as I thought the name. Still, Aro had spoken nothing of . . . persecution. Yes. His message was clear. Charlie Swan was excused. Nothing in Aro's message indicated contradictorily on the alternative. Slow, painful torture. Torture to the brink of death. After all, Charlie Swan's employment harkened the likelihood of it. Made it almost inevitable. Thugs, thieves, and murderers abounded in today's society. Any nefarious human could be blamed.
My mood lightened.
I considered this additional endeavor and became energized. Thrilled. I remembered a colloquialism I had come across in one of my readings - I would have my cake and eat it, too - and chuckled heartily at this newfound understanding. Oh, the joy in all I was learning on this adventure!
Still, I must reign in my enthusiasm for this inspiration, and objectively weigh the two possible outcomes of this new initiative. I could toy with Charlie Swan, or eliminate him outright, using some criminal element as cover. It was, as I had read in a recent business periodical, a win-win situation. The thrill of this possibility nearly overcame my desire to follow Aro's orders.
Logic stealthily crept through, like a weed through the smallest crevice.
Executing him in addition to Catherine would be . . . reckless and foolhardy.
Aro would know the minute he took my hand in his upon my return. To torture him, to leave him alive to witness . . . my order was to eliminate Catherine outright, not toy with her like some dog with a bone. How could I hide my true nature if Charlie Swan were present?
The other voice, the more palatable one, goaded me into reassurance.
He would never know your secret, from whom your orders were issued, nor the motivation of the mission.
"Hmmm," I uttered aloud.
Caution would be vital in those last moments. In the upcoming days, I would need to formulate a scenario that would resolve the interference of Chief Charlie Swan, one that did not inflate the ire of the Cullens. But indirect pain to their peculiar coven? I rested all hope on Aro's modicum of approval for their residual grief.
I had much to ponder this night, as I slipped from my room to take my place in the trees near my beloved Catherine. The darkness of night afforded the cover that would allow me to peer through her windows to watch her slumber. Perhaps I would venture in for a closer view. Confident in my prowess, the two imbeciles stationed to guard her would be oblivious to a silent approach.
CathPOV
I'llll . . . beee . . . waaaiting . . . forrrr . . . youuuu.
Cold hand touching me. Grasping my throat. Throwing me down on the path. Lowering himself onto me.
You're traveling alone.
My mouth opened to scream. I tried to scream. Nothing came out.
You're traveling alone.
I screamed and screamed, but I made no sound.
Charlie.
Thump. THUMP. CRASH.
My eyes fluttered, trying to focus on two shadowy figures in . . . I blinked to gain focus. Two shapes, which looked like men, had busted through my broken down door. I bolted up screaming. This time I heard it. Everyone within a two mile radius must have heard it.
"Miss O'Hara it's okay! It's us. The police."
My head flopped back down on the pillow, my lungs sucking in air, as I hugged the sheet up to my chin. I was breathing so fast I felt like I was going to pass out.
"Char . . . lie," came out of my mouth, the broken syllables the only sound I could form.
"We're calling him now." One of the men walked up to the bed and knelt next to it. "Miss O'Hara, you're okay. I think you were just dreaming. But we're calling Chief Swan for you."
My chest heaved with the force of trying to regain my breath, when realization struck me. "No!" I sat back up, realized my covers had flown off me, and grabbed them up to cover myself. "I mean . . . no. Th-that's unnecessary, really. Don't wake him up."
Too late.
"It's Humphries, sir. . . Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir . . . She's fine . . . Yes, sir, she's just a little . . . It was a dream, sir. . . .Yes, sir . . . She, uh, screamed. We heard her and came busting in . . . Yes, sir . . . Er, yes, definitely, sir . . . Jackson's going right now." The undercover on the phone with Charlie, Humphries, flicked his head at the one next to my bed, Jackson, directing him to go outside.
Jackson smiled to me as he patted the bed. He turned to his partner, "I'm on it," he whispered.
"I don't think he'll find anything . . . Yes, sir. Right away . . . Uh, sir, she's saying it's not necessary . . . Okay." The officer turned to me and held out the phone. "He wants to speak to you."
I took the phone, and two seconds to compose myself. I felt sorry for these guys. Charlie would have their heads if anything . . . and I'd just made them break down my door for a bad dream.
I put the phone up to my ear. "Catherine? Are you alright? I'll be there in a flash. Just let me . . ."
"Charlie, I'm . . . I'm sorry. I . . . I was dreaming. I think. Please don't come out here." As much as I tried to hide it, I so wanted him here. With me. Holding me.
He let out the longest sigh I'd ever heard.
"Please, Charlie. These nice men will be right outside. I . . . I promise not to . . . scream again." I really couldn't promise that, but I could try.
Then as if he knew . . . "You know you can't promise that." I could tell he was pacing. There was a slight shushing noise in the background when he spoke.
I tried my best sales pitch. "Listen to me. It's almost dawn. It's silly for you to come all the way out here. It was just a stupid dream. Please, please go back to sleep. I feel . . . bad enough." I didn't want to be the cause for his mood at the station tomorrow. These nice men might not come back.
"Fine, but I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll be out there by ten. I'm taking you . . ."
"But Charlie . . ."
"Don't argue with me."
"Uh, okay. But where are you taking me?"
"It's a surprise. Wear comfy, casual clothes. I'm just telling you because I know you're two seconds away from asking me what to wear. That's all the info you're getting. You're mine for the day."
"Oh, okay." If not for the two men milling about my cabin, I would've jumped out of bed and done my happy dance.
"Catherine?"
"Yes?" Silence, except for his breathing. He was thinking long and hard about what he was about to say. "Charlie? You there?"
"I would've been there in minutes."
My heart flipped. Yes, he would've been. I couldn't help but smile like a schoolgirl.
"No. More like seconds."
"Sweet dreams this time, all right?"
"Yes. Yes, sir. Bye." I hung up the phone and held it out for Humphries. I wouldn't describe what I was in as a daze, but I certainly wasn't attempting a coherent sentence.
I watched as the undercover policemen propped up my door as best they could until someone could come and fix it properly.
"Miss O'Hara, just so you know, we'll be right outside. No one will get past us. Please try to sleep."
"Thank you both. I'm sorry to be such trouble." Or such a basket case. Or such a freak.
Such a stupid girl.
"No trouble at all." Jackson nodded almost as if bowing, and followed Humphries out. They did some arranging of my door from the outside, and then it was quiet.
I rolled over on my side and brought the covers up around me, clenching them under my chin. What did Charlie hesitate to say? Or was he just trying to get a hold of himself?
I panicked him. Again. Why did that man even bother with me? With those thoughts in my head, I was positive I'd never fall back to sleep.
A/N:
Ok, have at me. I'd really like to know.
