DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction is a non-profit, amateur effort and is not intended in anyway to infringe on the rights of Stephanie Meyer who created the wonderful Twilight Saga.
Thank you all for your very kind words, it's such a little thing, saying thanks but I really do mean it. This isn't a very long chapter so if you're good I might reward you with another chapter today! As before, please Read and Review. Mwah!
Stop The Merry-Go-Round
Chapter Nine: No Angel
Jasper's Point of View
My brow furrowed in confusion as I set the petite girl back on her feet, though how the hell she remained standing in those hideous high heels was anybody's guess. I didn't understand why I couldn't stop thinking about the way her tiny body had felt as I held her against my chest, how she had clutched at my t-shirt, how she had smelt when I had involuntarily breathed in the fresh, citrus scent coming off her hair. Her lips trembled and the urge to run the tip of my tongue across them made the muscles in my stomach clench with desire. I could feel the colour begin to stain my cheeks and I drew in a pained breath before releasing it slowly. Get a grip Jazz. Get. A. Grip.
I had heard her whisper my name again whilst she was still curled warmly in my arms. Her voice was soft and melodious and she said my name with such, I paused to think, such reverence that I almost came apart at the seams. I knew, as soon as I asked the question, that she had no intention of telling me how she knew me and whilst I didn't believe any of this Madame Ember bullshit I never expected, never in a million years could I have anticipated what her next words to me would be,
"You're my angel."
I hit the wall! I hit it hard and slithered down to another time, another place. It pulled at me relentlessly trying to get me to surrender to the dark and I fought back, I fought with everything I had to stop myself falling into the bottomless pit that had opened its maws and was salivating as it waited my arrival. I heard the shrieks of laughter from the funfair rides outside but my memories were conjuring up their own images now, those happy sounds had perverted, distorted from what was right and become screams as people fled from the church. A stone angel falling, smashing to the floor and fragmenting, chunks of cold rock flying at those running by, piercing into soft flesh. Everything burning. I felt the warmth seep slowly out of my body and pulled my arms around myself to try and keep it from leaking away, the last thing I needed to do was start shaking like a bitch. I almost called out for Emmett but something stopped me. Instead I lashed at her with my words and tried not to notice the anguished look that she flashed me, but, as quickly as it was there it was gone and compassion swirled in those soft, soulful eyes as I felt her take my hand.
The instant her slender fingers brushed mine something changed. I felt it. Felt her body stiffen and go rigid as if she had been hit by an unseen electric current, her nails were painted a ghastly red and she dug them remorselessly into my palms until I felt the soft skin there tear. Her eyes which a second ago had been gentle were now unclear and there was an utter wretchedness in their murky depths that tore at my heart. Suddenly she seemed to be the one lost inside memories. She began to whimper then, the most pitiful sounds escaping from her throat, and tears tumbled down her face dribbling off her chin. I felt physically sick and couldn't stop myself from grabbing her forcibly and shaking her, I needed her to tell me what was wrong. Did I need to get her a doctor? Her head rocked back and I cringed hoping I hadn't hurt her but it seemed to do the trick and with what was, obviously a tremendous struggle, she turned to face me. For the second time in as many minutes I felt bile rise in my throat, thick and cloying as she stared at me. Her face was ashen, a sickly grey colour and I knew the look that haunted her rich brown eyes, I had seen it in my own reflection often enough, fear had its grip on her…deep and dark. Something inside of me twisted and the need to pull her roughly back into the circle of my arms and do what ever it took to protect her was so strong that I had grab the side of the chair to physically restrain myself from doing just that.
