Chapter Six

Circles

"It's been years since we carved our names on a clock clocktower door,
before everything changed.
We were big eyed boys with the salt on our skin
and we'd throw our kites to the wind."

-Passenger

"Why are you driving my girlfriend's car?"

Seven excruciatingly painful seconds went by before I had the audacity to open my mouth. I regretted my actions instantaneously and flinched with each damning syllable

"I'm not-"

"Did you steal this car? Alice is going to be pissed-"

"How do-"

"This is going to complicate things. Why can't you stay out of trouble for two seconds, Bella? You really need-"

"How do you know Alice?" I finally screamed while slamming a heavy hand on the horn, cutting off Jasper's entire train of thought. I lifted my palm. Everything was silent, neither of us dared to make a sound. He stared at me wide eyed, entirely dumbfounded by today's turn of events. Several cars stopped to make sure I wasn't being kidnapped, I waved them along and closed the drivers' side door. Another seven seconds passed.

"How do you know Alice?" he countered, his eyes narrowing to tiny slivers. Jasper and I possessed the same debate skills. If you couldn't answer the opponent's question, you asked it right back to them with a different inflection. It normally caused a stalemate and today was no exception. What did separate our previous impasses with our current situation was the probable grand theft auto charge in my future. Jasper was a police officer after all. His little sister would not be given special treatment, especially since that little sister had a record with two different governments.

"How are you even sure this is her car?" I asked coyly, hoping that he'd realise that accusing me of theft was absolutely absurd. I smirked. There had to be more than one yellow Porsche 911 in Seattle, right?

"I memorise license plates on the force all day long, Bella. Not to mention, the license plate clearly reads 'M-A-C' for Mary Alice Cullen," Jasper breathed, obviously frustrated with my antics. He pulled the glove compartment open and began to dig around for the registration. He immediately pulled out an off white envelope which obviously contained the paperwork signed by Miss Mary Alice herself. "Do you need proof, or can I put this back where it belongs?"

I nodded and he placed the envelope neatly in the dash. "I promise I didn't steal this car, Jazz."

"I'm not entirely sure what to believe, Isabella. You've fucked up enough to warrant some suspicion, but I want to believe you because you're my little sister." Jasper looked heartbroken. My actions were forcing him to choose between our family and his job. I leaned my head back and gazed out the front wind screen. Even though I hadn't stolen the car, there was no way to get out of this mess without exposing my intentions. I tried to quickly hatch a plan whilst we sat in silence, but the 'witty plan' part of my brain had been maxed out for the day. Wasted on a stupid page from a stupid spell book for a stupid manipulative vampire.

Rosalie must have set me up. Looking back, her pleasant attitude did not match the chronic bitch face I'd seen her wear twice before. Once in the picture and once inside Starbucks. The Cullens were certainly not adding up. Edward acted sweet sometimes, but at the drop of a hat he could become sinister or calculating, only to return to his charming 'sob story' self. Which personality was the real Edward? Moreover, who was the real Rosalie? Was this Alice girl using my brother? Were the Cullens sent from Aro to fuck over my entire future? So many questions had to be answered. First, I had to find a way to get Jasper on my side.

"Alice's sister lent me this car to run a few errands, Jazz. I didn't ask any questions, but I guess I should have," I risked a glance to my right. Jasper's posture seemed to relax, if only in minuscule amounts. "I'll set this straight. I promise. I'll apologise to Alice for worrying her."

"I suppose I might have overreacted," Jasper started. "Alice never reported the car stolen. I just assumed..."

"Well, you know what happens when you assume... Look, I've really got to get back. Rolo needs a walk and it's getting darker by the minute. I'll call you later tonight when I'm settled in. Deal?"

"If you don't, Bells, I'll assume you're AWOL," he laughed. "Love you, baby sister. Keep out of trouble. I can't protect you from everything that's out there." He placed a reassuring hand on my right knee, nodded his head downward, and disappeared from the front seat.

Teleportation had always been Jasper's specialty. He had a visual mind, which allowed him to 'see' where he wanted to go very easily. Not to mention his interest in the Police Academy had predetermined his ability to memorise every detail in a room, down to the colour of the crown moulding, thus making the transition from destination to destination incredibly simple. I envied that power.

I buckled myself into the car, shifted the car into reverse, and carefully backed out of the small, empty, weed infested lot. The drive home, for the most part, was a blur of red lights, melancholy thoughts, and deep rooted regrets. Although, I did try to shake those sorts of musings from my head immediately. Regretting my actions from four year ago would slowly make my brain come unhinged, but I couldn't help but play the 'what if' game when my mind was otherwise unoccupied.

Pulling up to my apartment complex, something in the pit of my stomach kept urging me to drive past. If Rolo hadn't been upstairs, I probably would have kept driving. But I couldn't leave my baby. A Witch's intuition is almost never wrong, so I parallel parked in the same illegal zone that Rosalie had and sprinted to the front door, not wanting to be exposed to the open air where anyone could come strolling along looking for trouble.

I fumbled through my keys in the dark with nervous hands. The block was empty and the only street light near the complex entrance had mysteriously gone out when I pulled up. Magic or coincidence? I had absolutely no clue. The jingling keys slipped through my fingers and fell to the ground with a loud crash.

"Lux," I whispered, eyeing the burnt out street light. It flickered to life instantly. Turning back to my keys on the cement seconds later, I realised they were gone. Had someone come up behind me a snatched them when I fixed the light? If they had, wouldn't the jingling noise be a dead giveaway? I contemplated going back to the car and calling Jasper so he could come let me in, but he'd never believe that my keys vanished in a forty five second time period. That would result in more questions being asked and more lies being told.

My thoughts were interrupted buy a large coughing fit in the alley next to my building. That coughing loser probably stole my keys and tried to run, but couldn't manage half a city block. I smirked. If he did want a fight, there was no doubt in my mind that I could take him. I confidently strolled over to the alleyway, preparing to knock the guy out with a level one spell. I flexed my fingers out and then balled them into fists, shoving them deep into my coat pockets.

Sure enough, a man with brown hair; a torn up peacoat; and a contagious sounding cough stood with his hunched back to me. I coughed to get his attention. No luck. "Excuse me, sir?" I announced, my voice echoing off two neighbouring buildings.

He whipped around at the speed of light. I locked onto his gaze and nearly collapsed with fear. His eyes were a glowing red, no brighter than the embers in dying fire. The blood on his lips matched his terrifying iris's. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat, although I'm sure it was all pretence.

"Isabella Swan..." he mused, taking several leisurely steps toward me. Icy grass was crushed beneath the bare soles of his dirty feet. I tried to take a deep breath, but my airways were constricted from my immense anxiety. Obviously, this was what death actually felt like. The flashbacks and montages were all fallacies from the silver screen. "You are quite the hot commodity amongst my kind."

He was inches from my face at this point, his breath smelled of rust. I knew exactly how that came to be, as well. This Vampire had recently partaken in a meal of the human variety. He had fucking killed somebody. He saw me flinch away from his proximity and laughed manically. His head motioned to the back of the alley. I risked a look over his shoulder and whimpered when I saw the ashen body of my neighbour, Angela. Her neck and dark brown hair were soaked in partially dried blood and her thin limbs were bent at nauseating angles. Angela's dark brown eyes appeared to be open, but I knew there was no life within her.

"You're a monster," I deadpanned. All emotion had fled my body with the death of my eighteen year old neighbour. Angela had been nothing but pleasant since her move in date two months ago. I didn't even try to hold in the ugly sob that escaped my lips.

A sly smile crossed his face. "Thanks," the monster said with gusto, flashing a set of bloody fangs. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Now, Isabella, I need a favour from you."

"You'll never get a thing from me."

"Well, that's not fair. The Cullen Clan gets your help, but the rest of us lowly Vampires don't even get a minute of your time?" his tone turned menacing before he reached out and grabbed the collar on my peacoat with a bloodied hand, successfully lifting me several inches in the air. "Look, Bitch. I've been stuck like this for almost twenty years. I had kids, I had a wife, but I a haven't seen them since nineteen-ninety-three. Why? Because your boyfriend felt he could take justice into his own hands."

He dropped me suddenly. My weak knees gave way the second my Converse hit the frozen ground. "Edward Cullen isn't the man you think he is. None of them are."

He appeared next to Angela's lifeless body at lightening fast speed. "Help me and this will never happen again. Ignore this and you'll be looking at a life sentence in the deepest pits of hell." The Vampire quickly pressed a set of keys into the palm of my hand and disappeared without another word. The only way to tell that he'd actually been here was by the massacred body a few feet in front of me.

I curled my wobbly knees into my chest and pushed myself off the frozen ground. The bottom of my jacket was soaked with Seattle's version of permafrost. I took several steps toward Angela's body before I collapsed again. Death had never been a prominent part of my everyday life. I had never seen a dead body, not even a posh one in those overpriced caskets at funerals. All of my Grandparents were alive and all of my GG's had died well before my birth. The closest I'd actually been to a 'dead' body, was Edward and his clan of animated corpses. The fact that this was Angela's body had little to do with my grief. The loss of an innocent life is what paralysed me.

Determined to make it over to Angela's body to see if there was any reversing her condition, I crawled on my hands and knees until I was crouched just inches away. My hands had become bloodied from shards of broken beer bottles in the grass, but those scrapes were the least of my concerns.

I lifted my hands above her head, willing the tremors to go away for a few minutes. I pressed my fingertips to her temples. Closing my eyes, I envisioned a living and breathing Angela. I pictured her lips turning from an icy blue to a light pink; I pictured her limbs correcting themselves without medical intervention; and lastly, I pictured the bright future she held. Much brighter than my own.

My eyes slowly opened, hoping for the best. I hadn't felt any movement beneath my fingers, but I figured a delayed reaction wouldn't be out of the question. Sitting before me was the algor mortis riddled corpse of Angela Weber. Unmoved and unchanged. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to fathom why magic had failed me during such a crucial time. And not only had it failed me... it had failed Angela, I failed Angela. She'd still be alive If I hadn't been her neighbour. My presence was toxic to the world. I befriended the lowest creatures on the earth, used magic for my own benefit, and failed this young girl. This was my punishment for being the scum of the earth.

I had to do something nice for her. One last kind gesture. Knowing rigor mortis had yet to settle in, I pulled Angela's upper body into my lap and hugged her tightly. My DNA was being placed on her body, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I should be punished for her death.

I felt someone approaching me from behind. I gently placed Angela on the ground from our intimate embrace and tightly closed my eyes.

"Need some help?" the deep voice asked. Light footfalls graced the alley.

"I killed her."

"Oh, Bella..." the voice whispered. Two cold hands cupped my face, pushing my chin upwards. "Isabella, I tried to get here sooner. Did he hurt you?"

"He should've. Everyone I care about is eventually going to die because of me." My heart constricted. Warm tears fell freely from my eyes. "I'm useless." I opened my eyes and focused on the sad face of Edward Cullen. Still devastatingly handsome. Still lending a helping hand. Still a complete mystery to me.

"Give me you're jacket and I'll take care of the evidence. Go get some rest," Edward said in the softest, sweetest tone I'd ever heard. "Once I'm finished, I will come check on you, alright?" I nodded. Edward slipped the light peacoat over my hunched shoulders. The cold seeped into my bones instantly. My body began to convulse; from shock or the weather, or a mixture of the two.

"What are you going to do with her," I asked.

"It's better if you are without this knowledge. The authorities will come looking for her in a few days. It's best if you can pass a lie detector test. Which reminds me..." Edward grabbed my shoulders and brought me to a standing position. "You need to deny any affiliation. Deny seeing her this week. Deny hearing any noise from her apartment. If at any point you feel backed into a corner, call my cellphone number."

"Why are you helping me like this? I'm a murderer."

"Sweetheart, that couldn't be further from the truth. You're an angel. You're my angel," he brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face and smiled sadly. "Go upstairs. I'll see you soon," his tone was clipped.

The mix signals being sent by Edward made me question the advice the mystery Vampire had given me... Maybe Edward really wasn't the generous man I thought he was just a few days ago? I mentally shrugged and decided to drag my drained body up to my apartment. A proper cuddle session with Rolo was what I craved.

Once upstairs, I decided to take a much needed shower. Angela's blood was literally on my hands. The only reminder of the gruesome scene downstairs. I turned the hot tap on and stepped inside. The steam and scorching water eased the tense muscles in my back, allowing me to feel somewhat human again. The water that collected at my feet was an eery pink. Suddenly feeling faint, I scrubbed my hands, careful of the shallow cuts, and arms intensely until every trace of blood was gone. My skin was raw. It seemed my outward appearance reflected how I felt on the inside.

The cold air inside my apartment clung to my skin after I stepped out of the shower, causing me to shiver almost violently. I put on my long, terry cloth robe and cinched it tightly around my waist, forbidding any more bone chilling air from assaulting me. I exited the bathroom quickly to purposely avoid my reflection. I wasn't ready to deal with my inadequacies.

Rolo snorted and jumped up, snagging my robe a few times with his overgrown nails. This was common practice, he just wanted to lick the water off my legs. I shooed him away with a simple scolding. He trotted off and cuddled up with a stray sock.

Remembering Jasper's threat about not calling him, I reached for my phone in my army surplus coat pocket. I laughed, wrong coat idiot. I searched my apartment high and low before I remembered that Edward had taken my jacket to destroy any evidence of my involvement in Angela's killing.

Mentally battering myself, I paced the room frantically until I heard a soft knock on my front door about ten minutes later. Knowing that it was Edward, I opened the door with a flick of my wrist. He stood in the doorway completely dumbfounded.

"I do not think that is something I will ever get used to," he commented.

"Good thing you won't have to," I spat, tired of feeling used and betrayed and completely lost. "Did you check the pockets of my jacket?"

"I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean," Edward shrugged. I grimly chuckled at his naivety. "And yes I did. Your phone, a few dollars, and this piece of paper were all in the right pocket. You're welcome."

Edward hesitantly walked inside and set the items on the wooden, rectangular table next to the door. He very quickly closed it behind him and then closed the distance between us. "Are you alright?"

"I'd just like some genuine answers from you. First you're sweet, then you're sour. You're like one of those mother fucking candy commercials," my tone was rising, so I took a deep breath and started over. I didn't have the fight in me tonight. "I'm getting mixed signals from you, Rosalie, and even your other sister, Alice. Emmett is the only 'okay' guy in the bunch. Help me to understand what you actually want."

He grimaced, his brow furrowed deeply. "Rosalie wasn't meant to come here this afternoon. She was being nosy and probably said some things that made you question my intentions. I apologise, she will stay away until you're comfortable enough to allow her in your life. As for me, I apologise, once again. I have been... undecided, for lack of a better term, on a very pressing issue. It has caused my family quite a bit of distress, I'm very sorry that it infiltrated your radar as well."

"I'm... sorry. I guess." I felt awful for doubting Edward. Thinking back, he'd been bipolar, but had never shown an ounce of ill will toward my wellbeing. "Things are tough for me. What you've requested from me is risky and I... I don't know, sometimes I feel like the world is out to get me. Sorry."

"We're quite similar, my Bell."

"Why don't you like France?" I asked suddenly, remembering when Rosalie had mentioned that Edward wouldn't support my plan to flee the country.

"Rosalie?"

I nodded, taking in the way his eyes smiled when I mentioned his likes and dislikes. "She mentioned that you disliked it because of the war, but she couldn't remember why."

"Well, Rosalie is a very self absorbed woman. I suppose she wouldn't remember why her dear brother hated that place," whilst he said that, his smile was kosher. But his attitude soon turned resentful. "I don't expect you to remember because we only discussed it briefly, but I was killed there in nineteen-forty-four."

There was about a foot of space between us and before I could register my actions, I had closed the gap and taken his large, firm hands in mine.

"How did that come up?"

"I mentioned hiding in France after I help you. That will buy me some time to escape from The Witches Council. Which reminds me, I've got the transformation spell. I ripped it out of some old book that the storekeeper wouldn't let me buy."

Edward chuckled at that. "I'm turning you into a delinquent."

"They added 'Delinquent' to my middle name a long time ago, bud. Don't flatter yourself." I dropped his hands and walked past his looming form to grab the folded piece of yellowed paper. Within a moment's notice, if felt as thought the paper would disintegrate under my touch. I wondered what the publication date was... I started to doubt the capability of the spell. Years and years ago, the Magic community had limited knowledge of Vampires and other sorts of undead folk. Perhaps they underestimated the durability of these creatures.

Nevertheless, I had to try for Edward's sake. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. I needed to prove this to Angela and myself. This would be my redemption.

Reading over the spell, it seemed straightforward enough and I possessed all the simple ingredients needed. I read through it twice to ensure there were no misunderstandings. One slip of the tongue or misplaced candle could result in the spell creating a mind of its own. Controlling magic was tough, but controlling black magic meant that you were the only conduit between the Non-Magic world and thousands of years of soulless, disturbing, destructive power. A lot of pressure was riding on my shoulders, to say the least.

Resurrection

Fif candels as blæc as pitch

An Wizard

An Corpse

Bind your soul to thee recently departed. Thee life will be drained accordingly. Do not fret, morto is real, yet lingers forth

Magick

Cruor Pectoris Mei, Tutela Tua Est

Vita Vitae Meae, Corripiens Tuam, Corripiens Meam

Corpus Corporris Mei, Medulla Mensque

Anima Animae Meae, Animam Nostram Concete

Cruor Pectoris Mei, Luna Mei Aestus Menus

Cruor Pectoris Mei, Fatum Meum Mea Salus

My body involuntarily shuddered when my eyes grazed over the vintage Latin. There was no way in hell I could pull this off without a hitch... Not to mention the words seemed off for what I was trying to accomplish. If my father was in the know, I'd ask him for guidance. As kids, he always warned Jasper and I about the dangers of magic. Especially black magic. Many of the old authors had a wicked sense of humour and lots of power. They used both to ruin unsuspecting lives.

I began to weigh the pros and cons. Pros: It could work and when that happened, I'd be killed immediately for breaking the law. Cons: It could fail and I'd still be killed immediately for attempting to break the law. I couldn't win no matter what, so why not throw caution to the wind and go down as the badass that attempted Black Magic after getting off probation? I'd rather be that girl than follow my brother's orders to stay out of trouble.

Shoving the paper aside, I grabbed some black jeans and a black hoodie in preparation for my night of evil.

Happy Friday!

Circles- Passenger (It's really beautiful, guys. Have a listen.)

Cheers!

-ColumbiaTheGroupie