Jacob's P.O.V.
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Quill asks as we cross the street to Colin's rancher. As if on cue, Colin's growl splits the silent street wide open.
The street quakes. Colin's neighbors spectate through their screen doors and windows, the men with their shotguns and the women and children peering past them. No one dares step foot outside.
"You just had to ask, didn't you?" I mutter.
Colin's back yard is in ruins. Shards of brick and wood are scattered about, no doubt from the hole where the back door used to be. The flowerbeds his mother tends are dug up, the roses shredded by the tattered water house and the squash muddled into the dirt.
Sam stands on all fours in the center with his haunches high. Backed up between the shed and the partially destroyed deck is a white wolf, his grey tail swaying back and forth nervously. Seth and Paul flank Sam on either side, their hands outstretched, ready for the unexpected. Jared paces behind them like a goalie, his claws digging into the ground. Leah hangs by the hole in the kitchen where his parents, Frank and Julia, look on.
Colin's muzzle is bared in a natural defense, but above his snarls is a whimper. He inches back from Sam's intimidating stance. He's terrified and this ploy, as effective as it's been in the past, is only making it worse.
"Sam," I call out. "This isn't the way to handle this."
His ear flickers in my direction, but he doesn't turn. Colin takes a step back onto the deck.
Seth's head whips around to me. "Jake, what are you doing?"
"Sam, look at him. He's scared as fuck." He doesn't respond. "Sam!"
Sam spares me a partial glance and several things happen at once. Colin seizes the opportunity and lashes out at Sam's maw. Sam lurches back and lets out a growl that shakes the yard and brings everyone to attention. Seth and Paul fall back. Quill and Embry phase and fill in the rest of Sam's flank. They crowd Colin like a pack of bullies.
"No!" I shout. Sam bares his teeth to make Colin submit and before I know it, my feet are moving forward.
"Jake, what the hell?" Paul reaches out to stop me, but I brush him off and push my way through Jared and Embry and step towards the deck.
"This isn't right. You can't scare him like this."
Jared brushes me aside with his nose. Move. I can't make myself do it. Colin's whimper is driving me nuts. Every fiber of my being is on its edge. My heart pounds in my ears, my lungs inflating and deflating rapidly. I feel the pressure to discard my skin and change into my wolf edging up my spine, but I know my body isn't strong enough, not yet. I do the only thing I can and boldly stand between Sam and Colin. Sam snarls and everyone takes a cautious step back as his anger ripples through us like water.
He barks a deep growl. The urge to cower beneath him is overbearing, but for the first time, I deflect it. The pack shifts behind him uneasily.
"Leave him alone." Sam steps closer so that his snout is spearing my throat. It ices my collarbone. He lowers his head down to Colin and I step in front of him. "I said leave him alone!" I can feel my voice change. Sam rises to his full height, eyeing my fists, no doubt taking it as a challenge, but I know he felt it too. His eyes are full of anger and intolerance. He barks harshly before stepping back.
I stoop down to Colin. He's curled into a ball, his ears and tail tucked low. He flinches when I reach out to touch him. "It's okay. It's okay, I got you. I got you." I stroke his neck and ears to soothe him. His body is tense and his heart races. "You're alright. You're alright."
His whimpers eventually cease and he lays his head in my lap. The pressure ripples through my bones, but I keep running my fingers through his fur. I can feel the anxiety and fear pouring out of him in waves and it makes my heartache. A shiver ripples through his body and the fur falls away to reveal his sweat sheened, nude unconscious body. Everyone else phases back.
Paul's P.O.V.
For about three minutes, nobody moved. It was like the Big Man himself paused life, laughed it off like it was a boring reality show, and then pressed play. Seth hollers for a blanket and Frank and Julia rush in. Jared and Embry carry Colin in and not once does Jake leave his side. Sam lingers, his stature casting a long shadow across the yard.
It takes a moment for his eyes to forget the dirt. It's a look I've never seen on him. It's hollow. Without a word, he goes inside.
Everybody congregates in the living room around the couch where Colin is laid out. Frank wipes a wet towel across his forehead and Julia mumbles that she loves him over and over. Jake is at his feet, a secure hand on Colin's ankle as if he'll awake and run. Sam doesn't intervene. He stands by the front door, arms crossed, observing everything.
None of the pack speak. They look on as Colin sleeps off his rage and confusion. I can feel it, we all can. Something's different about us, something big.
"Frank," Sam says, his first words since we got here.
Frank turns to Sam with misunderstanding in his eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. He's a fidgety mess. "I don't understand," he mumbles. "How could he…change? I've never, I couldn't in all my years. How?"
"It's not about you." Sam's words are sharp. "Colin inherited the ability somewhere within your bloodline." His eyes shift to Colin. "He's a shifter and there's nothing you can do about it, so cut that out right now."
Julia, the calmest of everyone, looks up. "Will you take care of him?" Her eyes are at peace, but there's an edge to them as only a mother's would.
Sam doesn't answer right away. He looks to see Jacob staring back at him, uncertainty in his own gaze.
"We all will," Jake says, finally.
Frank goes back to tending to his son and Julia turns to the room. "What a day. The insurance company is going to have a fit." She laughs lightly. The guys offer supportive smiles. The atmosphere loosens a little. "Can I get you all anything? Something to drink, to eat?"
"Uhm," Jared starts.
"We're fine. Thanks, Julia," Leah says.
Julia nods and looks at Colin with tender care. "Our boy's all grown up, Franky." Frank says nothing.
Sam steps away and backs into the kitchen. Jake watches him go, but doesn't make any motion to stop him. I follow. He inspects the damage around the yard, his gaze hard enough to inflict more. He doesn't look at me. He goes into the shed that's remained untouched and rustles about. He returns with a rake, a shovel, and a wad of black trash bags. I reach out for one. He hesitates, meeting my eyes, before passing it over. We work in silence, collecting the garbage.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you about Emmett." He stops bagging and looks at me.
I didn't forget about it. I couldn't, but it had somehow taken a backseat to everything going on with Penelope and the Elders. I feel it, the anger being poked like a kindled fire.
"How could you keep that from me?" So many questions surge forward.
He sighs and drops the rake. "It was a promise I made with Jacob, Paul. It wasn't my place to speak for him."
The sparks spiral. "Are you fucking serious? Do you fucking hear yourself?" It's so crazy, it's almost funny. "It's not your place? Because what, he's your second-in-command, your favorite?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"You prioritized him over me! My imprint was just as fucking important as his and you threw that shit to the wind the second you had the chance!"
"Hold the hell on!" He raises his voice, all traces of his calm demeanor dissipated. "I did the best I could for both of you. Don't you dare paint me as the villain."
"You had every chance to tell me and you didn't!"
"You didn't think I wanted to? Paul, we've been family damn near since we were kids."
The pack file out into the yard, no doubt stirred by the shouting.
"Then why the fuck was I treated like some child kept out of a family secret?" I yell. "I came to you, not even as my fucking alpha, but as my brother, the person I trust the most for every step of the way and you shut me out when I needed you to be there for me!" Out of everything, that shuts him up and that, I realize now, is the root of everything.
A hand touches my shoulder. "Paul." It's Jacob. "I think –"
"Oh, you're thinking now?" I turn on him. "It must be nice to choose who you want to be with when you feel like it! Feels good to toy with someone who really cares for you, doesn't it?"
His face clouds over in guilt. "That's not fair and you know it."
"You're as selfish as he is." It hit's him hard. "And what's crazy is that you don't really care that I imprinted on you. Why? Because, at the end of the day, if I don't work out, if I make you feel guilty and crumby for even existing in the same room as me, you can always go right back to the fucking vampire and live happily ever after."
"Enough!" Sam shouts, now stepping to me.
There's tears in Jacob's eyes, tears that I know all too well. "You're wrong."
The fire dies in me. "No, I'm not. I was always just an option to you. At least have the balls to admit it." I walk out of the yard before I can do more damage. No one chases after me. No one call my name and I don't expect them to. No one cares about how I feel.
I take to the streets to avoid going into the woods because if I phase right now, I'll end up doing something I'll regret. I keep walking until I'm at the center of the Reservation. The Quileute common structures reside here. The market sits on the brink of the creek, the parking lot empty aside from Jordan, the owner's, beat up charger. Across the street is the mail house that has the shades drawn and its closed sign in bright red.
Directly ahead of me is Miss Grady's Diner. It looks like a largest log cabin that's been painted every color of the sun, with bay windows all around and rectangular signage stating the special of the week. I go inside and sit at a booth without waiting to be seated. It's mostly empty. A few older people lounge here and there, reading the paper over soup and playing cards over salads. A group of girls from high school sit at the pie bar. I can feel one of them looking, but I don't look back.
Miss Grady comes around in her apron and note pad. "Hey, Paul. How you doing, hun?"
My head buzzes. "Hey, I'm fine."
She puts a hand to her hip. "You don't look fine. Everything alright?" She smells like greasy apple cobbler.
"Yeah. Thanks." I don't bother looking at the menu. "Can I get a breakfast platter is fine."
She's not buying it, but she doesn't persist. "Not a problem, honey. Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon and flapjacks?" I nod. "Alright. I'll have it out in a bit." And like she can sense that I need it, she places a hand on my shoulder as she goes.
I stare out the window. Across the street, the Quileute Proving grounds is lit up in its usual glamour. I can't tell if anyone is there or not. I'm not looking forward to the next meeting with the Elders. It's not like I have a choice, but it won't end well for any of us.
"Paul?" I turn to see Penelope standing by the pie bar. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before she clears her throat. "Can I sit with you?"
I don't answer her. She stands there for another minute before making her way over and into the booth. She fidgets with her hands and smooths her hair and shirt. She forces herself to smile, but it's not authentic. Her lips and hands shake.
"What do you want?"
She breathes in deeply and puts an inch of effort into her smile. "I wanted to see you." She looks down at me and chuckles. "I can't believe you're all grown up."
"Stop," I say. "You don't get to do that."
She swallows the joy bubbling and folds her hands. "I –"
Miss Grady returns with the plate and a sour look on her face. "Here you go, hun." She turns to Penelope with the eyes of an older woman whose seen it all. "Penelope."
She gently smiles. "It's nice to see you, Miss Grady."
Again, she doesn't buy it. "Mhm. Can I get you something?" Penelope shakes her head no. "Good." She leaves.
I start eating before I lose my appetite. She just watches. "So, how have you been?"
My fork hits my plate. "You know what? I've had the worst time of my life these past few months. My week has been shit. My day has gone wrong in every way it possibly could and will somehow get worse as it ends. Why? Because that's just what the universe throws at me these days. On top of that, you showing your face is just the icing on the cake. Fuck you for asking."
I go back to my food. She sits up a straighter. "Listen, I know you're upset with me and I get it."
"You don't know anything about me." It's a fact I've gone over in my mind countless times when she still mattered to me, to dad.
Her lips form a straight line as she nods. "You're right. I take full responsibility for that. If I could go back…"
I push the plate aside, empty. "Look, what do you want?"
"To make amends," she says. "You and Will were my life"
"Okay, stop right there. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you give yourself a sob story. You had a family once upon a time, people who loved you, people who fought for you, but what happened? You abandoned us. Why? I don't fucking care. All I know is that you're sitting in front of me, trying to figure me out and make up for lost time as if you just took a weekend off." I lean forward. "You left ten years ago. No letters, no visits, no interest in the lives you left behind. You know what, it's not even worth my time." I stand. "Whatever reason you came here, forget it and just go back to wherever the hell you came from. We've done great without you."
She stands. "Paul, please wait. I'm your mother for Christs sakes!"
Her outburst silences the entire diner. Miss Grady glares from across the room, note paid perched on her hip defensively.
I turn to her. "Oh, you wanna play mommy? Take care of the bill." I walk out into the night.
Emmett's P.O.V.
It's a humid night atop the mountains. Port Angeles glows brighter than normal due to the music festival. It's quiet up here. I guess the mountain lions and bears are taking it easy for a change.
A bottle clinks as Lincoln twists off a cap and takes a gulp from his beer. Lincoln. My Lincoln. I can't help but stare at him. I'm marveling really and I'm consciously aware that I haven't looked at anybody the same besides Jacob. He stares out into the valley, his legs crossed, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. His shades are perched on the bow of his hat that's cocked back to reveal his forehead and the edges of his hair line.
"Em," he smirks softly. He turns his emerald eyes on me. "You're staring."
"I'm just…" I find myself smiling. "I can't believe…"
He downs the rest of his bottle and puts it with the empty case. He turns his body all the way around and crosses his legs. "That this is happening?"
"Literally the words on the tip of my tongue."
He smiles, a blush riding down the rise of his cheeks. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He cracks another bottle. "It's surreal, isn't it?"
"More than you know," I say.
He opens another bottle, but doesn't put it to his lips. His eyes darken to the color of the grass beneath us. "To be honest, I was actually nervous to find you."
"I don't remember you ever being the nervous type."
He rolls his eyes at that. "I'm not, believe me." He shrugs. "I don't know. It was just…" His eyes harden. "It's been seventy-six years. I didn't know if you were dead or reincarnated, if you believe in that sort of thing, you know?" His gaze softens. "I didn't know if you'd remember me, but I'm glad you do."
"Me, too." It makes my heart flutter. "I couldn't forget you." I remember him like a lighthouse in a fog, faintly but certain that he's there in my memory somewhere. "We met when were kids," I recall. "And I remember you were my best friend for years."
He grins. "Yeah, I was. Good old Gatlinburg." He drinks slowly.
"Yeah…" I say, my mind switching gears. "What happened to you all this time?"
He looks at me very seriously as if he doesn't want to speak about it. Then his eyes sparkle as he smiles. He tosses the empty bottle into the bag. "I can show you better than I can tell you."
Huh? "What do you mean?"
He shifts to his knees and crawls closer, but keeps his hands up in defense. "Alright, so I want you to close your eyes and I'm going to touch your face. By all means, do not freak out by what you see." He looks at me for understanding. "Okay?"
"Uh, yeah, alright." I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but it can't be bad. I meet his gaze and smile and close my eyes.
"Just relax."
"You know, when you tell someone to relax, the thought of relaxing makes them more tense."
He sighs, his voice suddenly closer than before. "Then stop talking." His fingers gently touch both sides of my forehead and my mind goes blank. I open my eyes to a dark room, a room that isn't the mountain we're sitting on.
"What the fuck is happening right now?" I can still feel his fingers grazing my skin, but I can't see him.
"Emmett, relax. You're fine, I got you." His voice still sounds close. "What you're seeing is a memory. One of mine." He would have some sort of ability, wouldn't he? "It's a little unnerving at first, but just tell me what you see."
I look to my left and my right. From wall to wall are old-fashioned wooden bunk beds. In each is a sleeping man no older than twenty-five covered in thing blankets. On the far-right wall is a door. The walls are tin and the floor beneath my feet is dirty wood.
"I'm in some sort of military barracks. All the men are asleep."
"That sounds about right. Do me a favor and walk ahead and turn three feet to your left."
I do what he says. The room smells like old beans. I'm standing between two beds where a window is cracked enough to get a stifling breeze in. On the bottom two bunks are two men, one tall and lanky, the other pudgy and stout, both snoring like bears in hibernation. To my right is a man with his back facing me.
To my left, a man lies wide awake with his eyes on the ceiling. I wonder oddly if when he gets up, his head bumps the low tin. He looks young based off the mustache growing around his lips and the boyish glow he seems to radiate even in the dark. The thin blanket is bunched up to his neck despite the humid air and his hands are clamped over top of it as if to keep his body from shifting. There's something about his face that doesn't match his environment.
"I see you," I say. He looks significantly younger, but this is Lincoln, the one I knew. "And you look like you don't belong here."
"I didn't," he sighs. "Just watch."
Lincoln closes his eyes as if to force himself to sleep. Outside the window is a low whistle that grows closer and louder. He opens his eyes and sits up, keeping his head low from the ceiling. He stares out the window, eyes suddenly wide and alarmed as the room grows brighter. He turns to the room and lets out a shout.
And then the room explodes.
Like a dream, I'm suddenly outside. My body moves in a water-like blur from the barrack's and out into the street or what's left of it. The room I was just standing in is burning, the walls crumbling as shell shocked men fight their way through the flames and debris. There's Lincoln carrying a man on his shoulders, coughing up smoke, his face red and charred. He screams for help.
Another bomb goes off. The entire base is up in flames. Men scramble out of their untouched barracks with shot guns and machetes. Colonels are hollering orders. Horses and tanks spiral out of control. On the edge of the surrounding hills is a new sound above the shouting and crackling skin. A flag breaches the hills as the Germans rush the base.
A colonel on a horse shouts a rush order at Lincoln and the survivors of his bunk and rides off, gun blazing. Lincoln slips into the group of men rushing west of the barrack to get out the enemies' line of sight. Bullets and planes fly like bats across the night red sky, dropping bombs and destroying everything. The water thing happens again and I'm moving with them as they flee through the winter trees. Blood seeps into the black snow under their feet, their breaths flames in the winter air. The man on Lincoln's shoulders won't make it. There's a gash across his stomach that widens with the more steps he takes, but Lincoln continues to carry him, assuring him over and over.
A war cry breaks out in front of the wave of Americans as Germans storm their left flank. Lincoln's eyes go wide. Then things change again. I'm standing in a hospital room. It resembles the barracks, but without the bunks and the stale smell of impending death in the air. Metal bedframes line both walls with IV stands nearby reflecting poorly in the moonlight. The room is filled with coughing and mumbling moans. Lincoln's bed is right beside me. His face and skin have gotten worse. His left eye is swollen and his head is wrapped. His body is covered in bandages and casts up to his right leg that's twisted at an odd angle. Again, he's not asleep. His one good emerald eye stares at the ceiling numbly.
"My cohort and I barely made it out alive. I wish I hadn't."
A door opens into the room and a blonde woman in a doctor's coat slips inside. She looks around at the patients silently and locks the door behind her. Lincoln's head lulls to look at her. She examines a man's and his vitals before moving on. She swiftly crosses the room to another patient and so forth before stopping at a bed closest to Lincoln where a woman coughs and hackles in her sleep. The doctor reads her chart and stares down at her with a look of sympathy before placing her hands gently on the woman's face, her ivory skin glinting in the moonlight, and swiftly breaking her neck. The moaning and coughing stops immediately.
Lincoln yelps. The doctor's eyes locate the sound and in a blur, she's peering down at him. He struggles to find the words over his own fear.
"Please…don't kill me," he moans, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Please."
The doctor looks at him and then smiles, her golden iridescent eyes sparkling.
I'm sitting back on the mountain. Lincoln hovers a few inches away, his fingers still poised by my head carefully.
"You alright?" I nod my head and he sits back. "I know that was a lot to take in."
"It…no, it wasn't. Everything made sense. You can show your past?"
"Only portions of it, memories that stand out. It's more like a projection of what I can remember. I think my father had early onset Alzheimer's, hence the gift, but you seem unsurprised?"
I shrug. "My sister can see the future, her husband's an empath, and my brother's a mental snitch. Shit doesn't faze me."
His smile fades slowly as he speaks. "Well, her name was Vera. She was from London, a part of an unadvertised exchange program between the UK and USA medical field. She would come into the room every night to check in on patients and euthanize them if they were in too much pain. When the morning doctor did his rounds, they called it natural deaths."
"She turned you."
"Yeah. She broke me out of the hospital and took me up into the mountains, gave me the bite, and it was the worst pain of my life, you know?"
"Dude, I was mauled by a bear and then turned back to back. I get it."
He scoffs. "She raised me, well, the new me and everything, taught me how to hunt animals and maneuver around humans and whatnot. I don't know if you remember, but I remember being an only child, so she was kind of like my big sister." He looks off into the distance. "We did everything together."
I can tell something dark is on the horizon. "What happened to her?"
"Twelve years later, we had moved into a hut on the outskirts of Maui, you know, incognito and all. A hopscotch away was the city, your average grocery stores, churches, and schools. I got a job at the local mine and she worked at the school as teacher and in doing so, realized how much she loved children and how much she wanted her own." His eyes take on a light of their own doing. "She used to ramble about how she would raise the perfect child, one who was strong, resilient, and an overall bubble of energy at all times, even with his abilities, even if he was like us."
"There was a kid in her class who had a terrible life at home. His name was Kai. Parents were abusive and neglectful and she felt sorry for him, so she did for him what she did for me. She rescued him, but in doing so, sealed his fate, one that we didn't see coming. He spiraled out of control, slaughtered as many people as he could to tackle his thirst. It was a tough time and then to make matters worse, people started to notice that we were different. They talked and that talk spread like a wildfire until it reached across the seas to the worst of the worst."
"The Volturi. Everyone's favorite band of circus freaks."
"They came without warning and uhm…" He looks away. "They destroyed him on sight, no questions asked. It broke her completely and they came after her next." He softens now, emerald eyes shifting back to me. "She was my maker of sorts, my sister, and my best friend." He runs his hands through his hair. "Whatever. That was sixty-four years ago. I mean, what's life when you can't spend it with the one you love?"
"Believe me, I know what you mean." More than you know.
He wipes his face of the memories and sits attentively. "But enough about me. Fill me in on you. I haven't seen your stupid dimples in almost a century." He grins.
My cheeks burn. "Where do I begin?"
He cracks two more beers and passes me one. "Em, I didn't scour the whole world looking for you to half ass me on catching up. Spit it out."
I roll my eyes. "Alright, alright. Let me see…"