Greetings, dear readers! Since I'm probably never going to get around to responding to each one, I'd like to stress how incredibly grateful I am for every single review. Seriously, they are like pieces of sunshine in a jar. Each of you gets a mental hug. Anyway, this is a bit shorter than I'd like, and the next one is a little too long, but I couldn't find a better stopping point. Also, my birthday is in eight minutes. Yay.
Thanks to NinaQ and jennej from PTB for doing a wonderful job beta'ing this chapter. No thanks to the weatherman for predicting snow when we all know that's just a pipe dream.
I don't want to put this at the end of the chapter because I'd like the drama to be mostly the last thing you guys read, so I'll say it here: please, please, please wait for next chapter to make any assumptions about the story. After reading this, you'll be confused because it completely contradicts what I said earlier, but I promise it'll all make sense. What I've told you still stands: Jacob's imprint is not very important to the plot, and the story WILL be Jacob/Edward slash.
Enjoy!
Shock Wave – a type of disturbance propagating outward; it carries with it energy that spreads out through solid, liquid, or gas mediums
Chapter Seven
Alice hurtled down the stairs wearing tight, dark clothes like a second skin. "It's time," she breathed, and in a flash, Carlisle was by her side.
"Alice?"
"I'll tell the boys to get fed," she said, smiling at her pseudo-father and handing him a silver cell. "You make the arrangements. I can't See, but things should go okay."
Carlisle watched his daughter dash outside in a streak of dark and light. No, she hadn't Seen. His sons were going headfirst into danger and there was no guarantee of their safety, none at all.
Frowning, he opened the phone.
Sam picked up the phone on the third ring, the cheap plastic cool against his palm and his cheek. "Hello?"
"Sam. We need to talk."
It was the calm voice of the vampire doctor, and Sam sighed and leaned against the countertop. He'd had more than enough of the Cullens for an entire lifetime. "Yeah? What about?" he asked, trying to keep his tone at least marginally polite. If he respected any of the leeches, it was Carlisle Cullen.
"You called a meeting between my coven and your pack last Sunday," the vampire said. "Now it is our turn. Meet my children at nine o'clock tonight at the boundary line, please. There are matters we need to discuss."
Sam nodded, knowing that Cullen would hear the movement of air. Nothing got past their senses, even through a goddamn phone line. He had seen Edward Cullen take notice of a fresh coat of paint on the Clearwaters' roof from his side of the line, miles away from La Push. It was disturbing. It was unnatural.
Vampires were unnatural.
"Oh, and Sam." The head Cullen's voice sounded different now, some strange emotion underlining the words. "One last thing, if you don't mind… Don't bring Jacob."
I do mind, Sam almost said. It was his first instinct to deny the monsters what he could. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but then his mind caught up, and he paused.
"I won't," he agreed, and heard the click as the doctor hung up the phone.
There was a soft rustling as Emily entered the room, gorgeous in a deep red blouse. Sam looked to see her watching him, all dark eyes with her lovely hair twisted into a bun. Her skin shone gold in the light, a treasure to be cherished and adored. Sam smiled at the sight of her.
"Why did you agree?" she asked quietly, gesturing toward the phone with her chin.
The alpha wolf shrugged and answered with the truth.
"I think Jacob's been seeing more than enough of the Cullens lately."
It was almost light outside in comparison to the last time they'd met, the moon just barely above the horizon. Sam clenched his fists as behind him, Paul and Jared continued to fidget. The younger wolves were quiet, almost nervous. This time they'd been the ones to arrive first.
The smell heralded their arrival, the sickly-sweet stench of decay and rot making Embry grimace. Paul pretended to choke. Sam didn't blink, watching carefully as the vampires materialized through the light mist of rain. They stood silently, parallel to the wolves across the line. Two males and a small dark-haired female.
He was sure he hadn't imagined the way the temperature dropped by several degrees.
"Our sire called this meeting as a courtesy," the middle one said. "We have all heard the rumors concerning Seattle and its lack of newborn activity."
Sam looked closely at him, squinting through the gloom. Edward Cullen. He was only familiar with the boy's name because of Jacob's near obsession with him, one that had bled out into each of their heads. This was the mind reader, Sam recalled, and instinctively tried to shut off his own thoughts.
The vampire smirked, exposing his teeth as if to incite the wolves to attack. "It doesn't work like that, Uley. And for the record, their names are Emmett and Alice." The large male to his right shifted, pale hands clenched into fists. "Anyway, my brothers and I will be traveling to the city tonight to either confirm or deny the news. We'll let you know of the outcome." He sounded almost reluctant.
Sam felt relief strip a great weight from his shoulders. The fear for his pack's safety had been a constant in the back of his head. "And if the army is really gone – "
"Then the agreement is off," the mind reader said, finishing Sam's sentence word for word. Unnatural. "You will no longer be expected to fight alongside us under any circumstances, and the offer of training sessions will be permanently withdrawn."
"And why couldn't your leader tell me this himself?"
"Jasper is feeding," the female chirped, eyes bright against her snow-white face. "And the others weren't going out in the first place, so there's no point in them coming just to meet with you." She shrugged. "I'm only here hoping that the longer I spend with you wolves, the more time my Sight will have to adjust."
Her sight? As far as Sam knew, none of the Cullens had any problems regarding their eyes. This would be the one with scenes from the future in her head. Sam made a mental note to avoid her as much as possible and tell his pack to do the same. If her talents didn't work around them, it could only be to their benefit. It wouldn't take much convincing, of course, to keep his tribe out of a vampire's presence. The creatures were alien and brutality radiated from their deathly cold skin. Sam tried to keep himself from shuddering at the sight.
Their very existence went against what was good and right, a violation of the natural order of things. He could feel it in his bones, in the longing to rip and tear. He pushed down his own monster, refusing to give the wolf free reign.
He'd learned that lesson long ago.
"The dislike is mutual, dog," Edward Cullen snarled. "Step off your pedestal, why don't you." Next time, Sam would insist that the coven leader came to any meetings instead of his more volatile son.
Quil sneered. "Nobody asked you to listen in on us, Cullen. Quit being a freak if you don't like what you hear."
The bulky vampire shifted into a crouch. Edward glanced at him, his face a smooth mask. "Emmett, don't."
Emmett stepped in front of the other vampire, glaring at the Quileutes. Beside his huge form, his siblings looked as fragile as glass. "As far as we're concerned, the treaty has regressed to its state from a year ago. No meetings, no sessions, no contact. And that includes Jacob Black in regards to Edward and Bella's relationship. Quit stepping over the line. Remember, you've already broken the treaty once," he said, crossing his arms and narrowing yellow eyes. "Try not to do so again. We might not be so lenient next time." He didn't wait for a response, ushering his two talented siblings away before Sam had fully processed his words.
In their absence, the night air was almost warm against his skin.
Emmett was laughing.
He was relishing the chance to destroy some newborns. Having only ever been a part of the Cullens, he was unused to the nomadic life and hadn't come across many others of his kind.
Edward glanced at him and then at his oldest brother. Jasper's face was set in harsh lines, scars blurred by the wind as they ran. They both knew what it was to kill, more than Emmett ever could, and it wasn't all that great.
They came to a standstill as the city lights came into view like a watercolor painting through the light rain. Edward threw his weight and hands backwards to balance out his momentum and skid to a stop. Emmett purposely slipped on a wet patch of grass, slamming into Edward and knocking them both to the ground. Edward rolled his eyes and got back to his feet, fighting a smile.
Sorry, bro, Emmett thought loudly, still grinning as he dusted himself off. I've missed you.
Edward patted his arm with a hollow thud as the three of them stood silently, facing Seattle. From his other side, Jasper tasted the emotions of masses, stretching them out along the framework of his mind to search for panic or fear. Edward made use of his gift as well, delving through inside his own head in an attempt to catch a newborn's thoughts. Emmett stayed quiet, watching them until Edward gave a sigh of frustration and sank to the ground. Pain was flickering at the edges of his mind. The scent of blood began to burn the skin from his throat.
"It's not possible," he said bitterly. "I couldn't get a proper reading."
Too crowded. I know. Jasper had encountered the same problem. In a place where so many people were thinking and feeling and just living together, a single mind was impossible to pick out from the herd. It was a needle in the proverbial haystack, except the thoughts and the feelings had blended together in Edward's mind until it took a moment to remember who he was. Jasper, at least, was able to feel the emotions like a physical thing that was separate from his own, but Edward's mind had no boundaries. Mental processes weren't just audible to him – they became his.
"If you're done with the ESP, I'd like to go hunting," Emmett said, glancing from one to the other. Edward shrugged, getting to his feet, and Jasper turned to face them both.
Edward felt the weight of his blond brother's gaze. Without having to look, he knew what Jasper was asking. Their brother had never been exposed to a young vampire before. He was entirely unprepared. Newborns were alluring in the way of an undead child – uninhibited and uncontrolled. They represented all that a vampire was without a cold façade cultivated over the long centuries. They were free in expressing their violently fluctuating emotions.
"Emmett," he said. "Remember what a newborn's pheromones can do. Don't get caught off guard." Rosalie would hardly be forgiving of any indiscretions on her husband's part.
Jasper nodded at his words, then reached out to put a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need to remember this, both of you," he said severely, concern overriding Emmett's excitement and Edward's faint apathy even as he glared them down. "This is not a time for fun, and we will not be playing around. Emmett, no jokes or pranks. Edward, keep your head in the game." He sent them each a jolt of white hot fear, mind going back to his years as a soldier. "I want you to remember this feeling. Concentrate, okay?"
For a wild moment, Edward was struck by the similarities between themselves and the triumvirate of vampires in Volterra – three brothers, one with outstretched hands as Aro did in order to invade a person's mind. Jasper, he decided, would make a good leader. Even now he basked in the temporary role.
Emmett was grinning jovially. "You don't have to worry, man. We've fought before. Everything'll be fine."
They all heard the electronic whirs as the cell phone in Jasper's pocket received a message. The vampire read it quickly before looking up, his surprise swimming through Edward's head. "There's going to be an attack," Jasper said to Emmett, knowing that his mindreading brother would already have heard. "Not vampire. Human. You know, the usual – a woman walking alone, some sick pervert following her home. Alice says we'll be able to prevent it if we act accordingly." He looked at Edward then. Through the glossy sheen of rain that separated them, his eyes seemed to glow. "She said you'd know what to do."
Edward stayed quiet, remembering his years as a vigilante with a strange mix of horror and pleasure. This would be his darkest past all over again – the brutes stalking their prey, him watching them from the shadows.
And, as much as he was a monster for doing so, Edward was looking forward to the hunt.
The streets of Seattle were barren and damp, neon lights from the shops reflecting out across the shiny asphalt and illuminating the large front windows. Edward felt his skin tingling in the low level electricity that flickered through the air. He was reflected in the windows across the street, a weirdly luminescent figure colored like stained glass. The odd lighting didn't help him appear any more human. Edward could only be thankful that few were out tonight in the cold and wet.
He had come across a severed arm and three fingers in the alleyway two blocks over. The venom had seeped from the appendages and begun to eat through the pavement on which they lay. Edward disposed of them quickly in a small trashcan fire. He glanced up as a siren rang through the night, drilling a hole into his skull and sending faint vibrations against his skin. Hopefully, one of his brothers wasn't responsible for some human casualty. Jasper's control could be weak, but years in the military had improved his discipline. It was Emmett who was most at risk of succumbing, either to the attraction of human blood or a newborn vampire's strong appeal.
It wasn't that Emmett would consciously betray someone he loved, but the vampire was intensely hedonistic and often did not think through the consequences of his actions. Out of all of them, he was perhaps the most suited for vampirism. Accidental kills, the permanent sense memory of a corpse held in one's arms – all those inevitable horrors of their unlife didn't bother him at all. Sometimes Edward envied his ability to forget, to feel no guilt.
Edward shoved his hands in his pockets and resumed walking, breathing to detect the flavor of the air. The scent of humans, drugs, and a large amount of smog clogged up his lungs. A light breeze ruffled his hair and the vampire froze.
Newborn.
Jacob thought he might be losing his mind.
He'd gotten home from patrol to find his house empty and still. His dad was most likely at the Clearwaters' house, but usually one or two of his pack-mates could be found. Things were never so quiet.
Also, there was something tugging at his brain.
It was a funny sensation, like he'd forgotten something significant that was on the tip of his tongue. Jacob groaned and bashed his head on the wooden door frame, hearing the structure creak. It was something obvious, important. A duty for the pack? No, he was positive it was nothing like that. Homework? He hadn't been to school in months. Did his dad need him? No, that wasn't it.
What had he forgotten? He darted from room to room, finally coming to a stop by the old TV and catching his breath. The feeling wasn't changing. He was missing something, and he couldn't remember what.
Jacob's stomach grumbled and he rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. Food would probably help him think. Actually, food would just help altogether. Rejuvenated by the idea, he made his way to the kitchen and put together a sandwich from ham and cheese. He finished it in just three bites before spotting a pile of what looked like textbooks over by the fridge.
Jacob furrowed his brow. Those weren't his; he was sure of it. The werewolf flipped through the pages, giving himself a paper cut that stung and then healed in seconds. He stared.
On the inside cover of each book was Bella's name, written in her familiar scrawl. Had she come to visit? Why hadn't anyone told him? He could have taken the chance to explain that they could just be friends. Jacob cursed and shoved the textbooks away, feeling anger well up inside, coil hot and thick in his gut. He wanted to transform and run through the woods until the rage had worn off, but suddenly another feeling overwhelmed him. Desperation. Anticipation.
He was close – he could feel it. He was very, very close.
Jacob frantically fumbled through the textbooks until his fingers had closed around one with a sepia-colored photo of old ships on the cover. History. Why had he been looking for this? The pull hadn't subsided at all, had gotten so strong that he could barely breathe. Jacob opened the book and found something tucked inside at the halfway point. Barely aware of what he was doing, he flipped the paper over and suddenly it was all he could see.
There were three people in the photograph, but Jacob's eyes were glued to one. A boy in old-fashioned clothes with a familiar face and beautiful eyes. The photo was black and white, but Jacob saw through it as though the knowledge had been written into his DNA. He knew instinctively that the eyes would be a vivid, shocking green, the hair reddish brown, the cheeks pink and flushed with life. He was the same and he was not. It was a shock, quiet wonder making its way through every cell of Jacob's body – as if he'd lived his whole life in faded tones of grey and now knew color for the first time. As if his eyes had opened to see the world in all its brightness and clarity.
The boy had changed, but Jacob knew him. Had seen him almost every day for the past few months, had spoken to him and thought about him and learned his manners and his moods. And now his name was repeated a thousand times over in Jacob's mind, written into the walls of his skull, and his face painted over and over again in the space behind the Quileute's eyes.
Edward.
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