I was going to wait because I wanted to upload like two or three chapters a once since it took so long for me to update. But you guys have been waiting patients . . . so here ya go.
I took some ideas some of ya'll gave me. So thanx to all those who helped jog my mind.
Also, I'm sorry that there's not a lot of the gang in here. I just really wanted to put this part of the book in the story.
I hope ya'll enjoy.
Pairings:
Harry/Edward (duh!), Alice/Jasper, Esme/Carlisle, Rosalie/Emmett, Draco/Jacob, Luna/?, Bella/Blaise, Neville/? (I'm allowed to keep some pairing secret)
Disclaimer:
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 9
The sharp click of heels hitting marble flooring echoed down the deserted hallway as a young woman with sharp features made her way through the building. She had a business like feel to her from her dark hair pulled into a bun and her thin glasses to her sensible heels and dress-suit. Pressed to her side she held a simple manila folder on which the words 'URGENT' were stamped across it.
The woman reached the end of the hall and came to a stop outside of a large oak door. She knocked solidly on it before opening it into a massive room.
The room was oval-shaped, and the entire back was made out of glass. If asked, one would say that the room was a replica of the Oval Office in Washington – and it was.
"President Stevens," the woman spoke to the man sitting behind the desk in the center of the room. "I have some important news to share with you." The President of Magical America looked up from the documents he had been pursuing at the young woman.
"Ah, Ms. Helen, do come in."
Draco Malfoy has always believed firmly in maintaining a certain image for himself and his family name.
Malfoys didn't slouch. Malfoys don't commence in acts of idiocy. Malfoys don't associate with those beneath them.
These rules had been ingrained into him since he could first understand the words. And never before had Draco thought for one second to go against what he was taught.
Until the war happened.
Draco could finally admit to himself that he had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of. That he had followed his father blindly and it had lead to the downfall of the Malfoy name.
However.
At the end of it all Draco could admit that he did have some Malfoy pride left.
Yeah, he wasn't giving to believe blindly in anyone anymore, or do things he didn't feel comfortable doing. But he could at least be proud of his ancestry, of the great Malfoy name. He couldn't let one generation of bad leadership tarnish that.
Right?
It was hard to think about that now, however.
Right here, in this very moment, it was hard to think about anything really.
Nothing but the hands that ran down his side, up under his shirt and pressed into his back.
Nothing but the scorching heat pressing into him. The hot mouth on his face. The huge body against his, pressing him into the hard bark of the tree.
How could he think about any of his Malfoy pride when he was being groped by Jacob Black of the Quileute Tribe in the middle of the bloody forest?
Draco let out a low groan and his head fell back, allowing Jacob full access of the pale expanse of Draco's neck. Jacob attacked it like it was the fountain of youth.
Draco knew he was gasping and meaning like some virginal girl, but he honestly didn't care. Not when Jacob was doing whatever it was that he was doing.
And then Jacob's hand traveled way south, down into Draco's pants and the blonde had to bite down on the Native's shoulder to stop from crying out loud. Jacob made a low growling sound that caused a shiver to race up Draco's spine – and then he squeezed his hand. Draco felt like he might pass out from the pleasure of it all.
Suddenly Draco was doused awake by a chill when Jacob suddenly pulled away. Draco was completely dazed for a moment, and he automatically reached out to pull Jacob back.
But then he heard it.
"Draco!"
"Someone was calling his name and with a jolt Draco was shocked aware. The aristocrat immediately started straightening his clothes, tucking his shirt his pants and fixing his hair.
Jacob was still standing there, looking a bit like a deer caught in headlights. Draco rolled his eyes at the teen.
"Hide," he demanded, jolting Jacob into action. The shape shifter, stepped forward, placed a searing kiss on Draco's lips, and then disappeared into the trees.
Just in time too, for Blaise showed up through some bushes, his wand lit with a Lumos.
"What are you doing?" the black wizard questioned, looking at Draco with an arched brow. Draco scowled at im and moved away from the tree, dusting his clothes off.
"That, I believe, is none your business," the blonde said in his most superior tone. Blaise blinked in confusion for a normal before shrugging it off.
"Well we're getting ready to leave. You coming?"
"Yeah," Draco said offhandedly and followed Blaise back to the group, all the while trying to ignore the eyes he could feel following him.
SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS
It's been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific serial killer in U.S. history. Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, was convicted of the murders of 48 women.
And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more horrifying monster at this very moment.
The police are not calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial killer. Not yet, at least. They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one individual. This killer – if, in fact, it is one person – would then be responsible for 39 linked homicides and disappearances within the last three months alone. In comparison, Ridgway's 48-count murder spree was scattered over a 21-year period. If these deaths can be linked to one man, then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history.
The police are leaning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved. This theory is supported by the sheer number of victims, and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the choice of victims.
From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Amanda Reed, to 67-year-old retired postman Omar Jenks. The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics and Asians.
The selection appears random. The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill.
So why even consider the idea of a serial killer?
There are enough similarities in the modus operandi to rule out unrelated crimes. Every victim discovered has been burned to the extent that dental records were necessary for identification. The use of some kind of accelerant, like gasoline or alcohol, seems to be indicated in the conflagrations; however, no traces of any accelerant have yet been found. All of the bodies have been carelessly dumped with no attempt at concealment.
More gruesome yet, most of the remains show evidence of brutal violence – bones crushed and snapped by some kind of tremendous pressure – which medical examiners believe occurred before the time of death, though these conclusions are difficult to be sure of, considering the state of the evidence.
Another similarity that points to the possibility of a serial: every crime is perfectly clean of evidence, aside from the remains themselves. Not a fingerprint, not a tire tread mark nor a foreign hair is left behind. There have been no sightings of any suspect in the disappearances.
Then there are the disappearances themselves - hardly low profile by any means. None of the victims are what could be viewed as easy targets. None are runaways or the homeless, who vanish so easily and are seldom reported missing. Victims have vanished from their homes, from a fourth-story apartment, from a health club, from a wedding reception. Perhaps the most astounding: 30-year-old amateur boxer Robert Walsh entered a movie theater with a date; a few minutes into the movie, the woman realized that he was not in his seat. His body was found only three hours later when fire fighters were called to the scene of a burning trash Dumpster, twenty miles away.
Another pattern is present in the slayings: all of the victims disappeared at night.
And the most alarming pattern? Acceleration. Six of the homicides were committed in the first month, 11 in the second. Twenty-two have occurred in the last 10 days alone. And the police are no closer to finding the responsible party than they were after the first charred body was discovered.
The evidence is conflicting, the pieces horrifying. A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? Or something else the police haven't yet conceived of?
Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle.
Harry sipped at his tea as he came to the end of the article. Honestly, he didn't think it was a gang doing this to Seattle. No evidence, no fingerprints, not even a trace of accelerant? No, there was something more going on here, but what Harry couldn't put his finger on. It was like he knew but every time his mind seemed to latch on to it, the thought fled away. It was highly irritating. What was it? . . .
"Is that a Muggle paper?"
Harry looked up to see Blaise leaning casually against the archway that led into the kitchen. He looked for all the world like he had just walked out of a bloody magazine and not at all like someone who might be starting their first day at school. In fact, Harry was considering letting him stay here with Neville. The year was almost out anyways.
"Yes, it is."
"And why are you reading the Muggle news," Blaise asked as he walked further into the room. Even his walk was smooth and catlike.
"Because," Harry answered, his irritation bubbling on the surface now. Blaise arched a brow at him and Harry threw the paper in his face.
"Well that was nice," the black male muttered, looking the paper over. As the title caught his attention he found himself reading and the more he read the higher his eyebrows rose. When he was done he let out a low whistle.
"I see why you look like that now," the aristocrat muttered. "What the bloody hell is going on around here?"
"Hell if I know," Harry muttered sullenly, sipping at his tea.
"Well what are you going to do about it?" At this question Harry sent the other teen a heated glare. Blaise held up his hands in surrender.
"Have you been talking to Draco? We're not going to do anything about it. It's not our business." With that Harry shoved away from the table. As he was leaving the kitchen his cell phone rang. The dark-haired man stopped, took a deep breath and then pulled the phone out of his pocket.
"Yes Bella," he answer, for only one person actually called him on his phone. Blaise watched silently at the Savior's face changed along with the conversation, going from irritated to confused and then determine.
"Yeah. Okay. We'll be there." With that Harry flipped the little device shut. "Change of plans," he told Blaise. "We're going to the Cullens."
"Why," Blaise asked the obvious question.
"That's what we're going to find out."
The ride to the Cullen household was mostly silent. Harry glared stubbornly at the road and was glad that Draco had decided to take his motorcycle because he was sure he wouldn't have been able to handle the blonde aristocrat right not. Neville kept sending concerned looks at Harry ever ten seconds, which wasn't doing any good for Harry's anger.
It was with a relief that he pulled up to the Cullen's front door – and at the same time Edward and Bella arrived.
"Harry," Bella called and walked over to him. Her face was pinched with worry. Even Edward looked a little stressed.
"What's going on," Harry asked, looking between the two. Bella shrugged but Edward offered no kind of answer. Instead he led the way into the house.
The group walked in to find Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper watching the news intently, though the sound was so low that it was pretty much unintelligible. Alice was perched on the bottom step of the grand staircase, her face in her hands and her expression discouraged. As they walked in further into the house, Emmett ambled through the kitchen door, seeming perfectly at ease. Nothing ever bothered Emmett.
"Hey, guys. Ditching, Bella," he asked with a grin and a wink.
"We all are," Edward reminded him.
Emmett laughed. "Yes, but it's her first time through high school. She might miss something." He then looked at the wizards and shrugged, not seeming to find anything to joke about with them.
Edward rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored his jokester of a brother. He tossed the paper to Carlisle.
"Did you see that they're considering a serial killer now," he asked.
Carlisle let out a low sigh and said, "They've had two specialists debating that possibility on CNN all morning."
"We can't let this go on."
"Let's go now," Emmett said with sudden enthusiasm. "I'm dead bored." A hiss echoed down the stairway from upstairs and Emmett muttered to himself, "She's such a pessimist."
"We'll have to go sometime," Edward said in agreement with Emmett.
Rosalie appeared at the top of the stairs and descended slowly. Her face was smooth, expressionless, until she saw Teddy and then she was quick to claim him. Harry let her, he had a filling things were about to get a little tense. He shot a look at Draco who nodded and leaded against one of the walks, content to listen for now.
Carlisle was shaking his head at Edward.
"I'm concerned. We've never involved ourselves in this kind of thing before. It's not our business. We aren't the Volturi."
"I don't want the Volturi to have to come here," Edward said quickly, and he lifted his hand toward Bella before letting it drop. "It gives us so much less reaction time."
"And all those innocent humans in Seattle," Esme murmured quietly. "It's not right to let them die this way."
"I know," Carlisle said on sigh. Harry thought he looked suddenly older.
"Oh," Edward said sharply, turning his head slightly to look at Jasper. "I didn't think of that. I see. You're right, that has to be it. Well, that changes everything."
Harry shared a look with his group all who shrugged, feeling as left out as he was. They weren't the only ones. Everyone was looking confused, if not a little bit annoyed also.
"I think you'd better explain to the others," Edward said to Jasper. "What could be the purpose of this?"
Edward suddenly started to pace, staring at the floor, lost in thought.
Alice got up and flitted over to Bella in a move so fast it reminded Harry that they were all vampires.
"What is he rambling about?" the small vampire asked of her mate. "What are you thinking?"
Jasper didn't look like he enjoyed the attention he was getting. He hesitated, reading every face around him and then over at the wizards. He seemed to be the only one to have noticed them standing there.
"You're confused," he said, staring straight into Harry's face. His deep voice was very quiet. Harry arched a brow at him and crossed his arms. It was safe to assume that everyone was confused.
"We're all confused," Emmett grumbled.
"You can afford the time to be patient," Jasper told him. "Everyone should understand this." Jasper turned away from Harry then and focused in on Bella.
"How much do you know about me, Bella?" Bella blinked, looking a little taken aback. Emmett sighed theatrically, and plopped down on the couch to wait with exaggerated impatience.
"Not much," Bella admitted.
Jasper stared at Edward, who looked up to meet his gaze.
"No," Edward answered his thought. "I'm sure you can understand why I haven't told her that story. But I suppose she needs to hear it now."
Jasper nodded thoughtfully, and then started to roll up the arm of his ivory sweater.
Harry leaned in to get a better look, his curiosity taken a hold of him. Jasper then held his wrist under the edge of the lampshade beside him, close to the light of the naked bulb, and traced his finger across a raised crescent mark on the pale skin. Harry supposed it was only his heightened senses that allowed him to see the marks crisscrossing the vampire's skin. Teeth marks.
"Oh," Bella breathed out, her eyes slightly wide. "Jasper, you have a scar exactly like mine." And then she held out her hand. The silvery crescent looked more prominent against her cream skin than against his alabaster. Harry narrowed his eyes, wondering who had bitten Bella and when?
"I have a lot of scars like yours, Bella," Jasper was saying to the girl now. His face was smooth as he pushed the sleeve of his thin sweater higher up his arm.
Bella let out another gasp, and started horrified at the blonde vampire.
"Jasper, what happened to you," she asked in a whisper. Harry had to admit that he was curious to. What had happened in Jasper's past that allowed him to get bitten so many times?
"The same thing that happened to your hand," Jasper answered in a quiet voice. "Repeated a thousand times." He laughed a little ruefully and brushed at his arm. "Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."
"Why?" Bella breathed in horror, staring at the scars she could not see on Jasper's arms.
"I didn't have quite the same . . . upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was something else entirely."
"Upbringing," Draco muttered with a snort. Harry elbowed him.
"Before I tell you my story," Jasper said, addressing them all now, "you must understand that there are places in our world, where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries."
The others seemed to have already heard this story, for they all moved to do various things. Edward started pacing again but every once in a while he would look up at Harry.
"To really understand why, you have to look at the world from a different perspective. You have to imagine the way it looks to the powerful, the greedy . . . the perpetually thirsty.
"You see, there are places in this world that are more desirable to us than others. Places where we can be less restrained, and still avoid detection.
"Picture, for instance, a map of the western hemisphere. Picture on it every human life as a small red dot. The thicker the red, the more easily we – well, those who exist this way – can feed without attracting notice.
Bella let out a low shudder but Harry didn't even blink. He could see it, the world through the eyes of a vampire is kind of like the world through the eyes of Fenir Greyback. Blood-tinged and bloated with 'food'.
"Not that the covens in the South care much for what the humans notice or do not. It's the Volturi that keep them in check. They are the only ones the southern covens fear. If not for the Volturi, the rest of us would be quickly exposed."
There was that name again.
Volturi.
It sparked a memory in Harry's mind but nothing concrete.
"The North is, by comparison, very civilized. Mostly we are nomads here who enjoy the day as well as the night, who allow humans to interact with us unsuspectingly – anonymity is important to us all.
"It's a different world in the South. The immortals there come out only at night. They spend the day plotting their next move, or anticipating their enemy's. Because it has been war in the South, constant war for centuries, with never one moment of truce. The covens there barely note the existence of humans, except as soldiers notice a herd of cows by the wayside – food for the taking. They only hide from the notice of the herd because of the Volturi."
"But what are they fighting for?" Bella asked. Draco snorted again and shared an amused smirk with Blaise – probably about the obliviousness of Muggles. Harry tried to ignore them, he was very interested in this story.
"Remember the map with the red dots?" Jasper asked, almost like a teacher would ask a question to help a student find their answer. Bella nodded. "They fight for control of the thickest red. You see, it occurred to someone once that, if he were the only vampire in, let's say Mexico City, well then, he could feed every night, twice, three times, and no one would ever notice. He plotted ways to get rid of the competition.
"Others had the same idea. Some came up with more effective tactics than others.
"But the most effective tactic was invented by a fairly young vampire named Benito. The first anyone ever heard of him, he came down from somewhere north of Dallas and massacred the two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, he took on the much stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. Again, he won."
"How did he win?" Bella asked with wary curiosity.
"Benito had created an army of newborn vampires. He was the first one to think of it, and, in the beginning, he was unstoppable. Very young vampires are volatile, wild, and almost impossible to control. One newborn can be reasoned with, taught to restrain himself, but ten, fifteen together are a nightmare. They'll turn on each other as easily as on the enemy you point them at. Benito had to keep making more as they fought amongst themselves, and as the covens he decimated took more than half his force down before they lost.
"You see, though newborns are dangerous, they are still possible to defeat if you know what you're doing. They're incredibly powerful physically, for the first year or so, and if they're allowed to bring strength to bear they can crush an older vampire with ease. But they are slaves to their instincts, and thus predictable. Usually, they have no skill in fighting, only muscle and ferocity. And in this case, overwhelming numbers.
"The vampires in southern Mexico realized what was coming for them, and they did the only thing they could think of to counteract Benito. They made armies of their own. . . .
"All hell broke loose – and I mean that more literally than you can possibly imagine. We immortals have our histories, too, and this particular war will never be forgotten. Of course, it was not a good time to be human in Mexico, either.
Even Draco shuddered this time – they were probably thinking about the same thing. Last year and the reign of Voldemort. It certainly wasn't a good time to be on the opposing side.
"When the body count reached epidemic proportions – in fact, your histories blame a disease for the population slump – the Volturi finally stepped in. The entire guard came together and sought out every newborn in the bottom half of North America. Benito was entrenched in Puebla, building his army as quickly as he could in order to take on the prize – Mexico City. The Volturi started with him, and then moved on to the rest.
"Anyone who was found with the newborns was executed immediately, and, since everyone was trying to protect themselves from Benito, Mexico was emptied of vampires for a time.
"The Volturi were cleaning house for almost a year. This was another chapter of our history that will always be remembered, though there were very few witnesses left to speak of what it was like. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, watched what happened when they visited Culiacan."
Jasper shuddered at the memory.
"It was enough that the fever for conquest did not spread from the South. The rest of the world stayed sane. We owe the Volturi for our present way of life.
"But when the Volturi went back to Italy, the survivors were quick to stake their claims in the South.
"It didn't take long before covens began to dispute again. There was a lot of bad blood, if you'll forgive the expression. Vendettas abounded. The idea of newborns was already there, and some were not able to resist. However, the Volturi had not been forgotten, and the southern covens were more careful this time. The newborns were selected from the human pool with more care, and given more training. They were used circumspectly, and the humans remained, for the most part, oblivious. Their creators gave the Volturi no reason to return.
"The wars resumed, but on a smaller scale. Every now and then, someone would go too far, speculation would begin in the human newspapers, and the Volturi would return and clean out the city. But they let the others, the careful ones, continue. . . .
A low gasp came from someone near him, but Harry was staring too intently at Jasper to notice who. That little thought was nudging at him again and it was so close . . .
Jasper was staring off into space.
"That's how you were changed," Bella muttered lowly as the realization came to her.
"Yes," Jasper agreed. "When I was human, I lived in Houston, Texas. I was almost seventeen years old when I joined the Confederate Army in 1861. I lied to the recruiters and told them I was twenty. I was tall enough to get away with it.
"My military career was short-lived, but very promising. People always . . . liked me, listened to what I had to say. My father said it was charisma. Of course, now I know it was probably something more. But, whatever the reason, I was promoted quickly through the ranks, over older, more experienced men. The Confederate Army was new and scrambling to organize itself, so that provided opportunities, as well. By the first battle of Galveston – well, it was more of a skirmish, really – I was the youngest major in Texas, not even acknowledging my real age.
"I was placed in charge of evacuating the women and children from the city when the Union's mortar boats reached the harbor. It took a day to prepare them, and then I left with the first column of civilians to convey them to Houston.
"I remember that one night very clearly.
"We reached the city after dark. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire party was safely situated. As soon as that was done, I got myself a fresh horse, and I headed back to Galveston. There wasn't time to rest.
"Just a mile outside the city, I found three women on foot. I assumed they were stragglers and dismounted at once to offer them my aid. But, when I could see their faces in the dim light of the moon, I was stunned into silence. They were, without question, the three most beautiful women I had ever seen.
"They had such pale skin, I remember marveling at it. Even the little black-haired girl, whose features were clearly Mexican, was porcelain in the moonlight. They seemed young, all of them, still young enough to be called girls. I knew they were not lost members of our party. I would have remembered seeing these three.
"'He's speechless,' the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice – it was like wind chimes. She had fair hair, and her skin was snow white.
"The other was blonder still, her skin just as chalky. Her face was like an angel's. She leaned toward me with half-closed eyes and inhaled deeply.
"'Mmm,' she sighed. 'Lovely.'
"The small one, the tiny brunette, put her hand on the girl's arm and spoke quickly. Her voice was too soft and musical to be sharp, but that seemed to be the way she intended it.
"'Concentrate, Nettie,' she said.
"I'd always had a good sense of how people related to each other, and it was immediately clear that the brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they'd been military, I would have said that she outranked them.
"'He looks right – young, strong, an officer. . . .' The brunette paused, and I tried unsuccessfully to speak. 'And there's something more . . . do you sense it?' she asked the other two. 'He's . . . compelling.'
"'Oh, yes,' Nettie quickly agreed, leaning toward me again.
"'Patience,' the brunette cautioned her. 'I want to keep this one.'
"Nettie frowned; she seemed annoyed.
"'You'd better do it, Maria,' the taller blonde spoke again. 'If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.'
"'Yes, I'll do it,' Maria agreed. 'I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don't want to have to protect my back while I'm trying to focus.'
"My hair was standing up on the back of my neck, though I didn't understand the meaning of anything the beautiful creatures were saying. My instincts told me that there was danger, that the angel had meant it when she spoke of killing, but my judgment overruled my instincts. I had not been taught to fear women, but to protect them.
"'Let's hunt,' Nettie agreed enthusiastically, reaching for the tall girl's hand. They wheeled – they were so graceful! – and sprinted toward the city. They seemed to almost take flight, they were so fast – their white dresses blew out behind them like wings. I blinked in amazement, and they were gone.
"I turned to stare at Maria, who was watching me curiously.
"I'd never been superstitious in my life. Until that second, I'd never believed in ghosts or any other such nonsense. Suddenly, I was unsure.
"'What is your name, soldier?' Maria asked me.
"'Major Jasper Whitlock, ma'am,' I stammered, unable to be impolite to a female, even if she was a ghost.
"'I truly hope you survive, Jasper,' she said in her gentle voice. 'I have a good feeling about you.'
"She took a step closer, and inclined her head as if she were going to kiss me. I stood frozen in place, though my instincts were screaming at me to run."
Jasper paused suddenly, his face thoughtful. Harry felt as if he had been douse with and Agumenta.He shook his head to get rid of the feeling.
"A few days later I was introduced to my new life.
"Their names were Maria, Nettie, and Lucy. They hadn't been together long – Maria had rounded up the other two – all three were survivors of recently lost battles. Theirs was a partnership of convenience. Maria wanted revenge, and she wanted her territories back. The others were eager to increase their . . . herd lands, I suppose you could say. They were putting together an army, and going about it more carefully than was usual. It was Maria's idea. She wanted a superior army, so she sought out specific humans who had potential. Then she gave us much more attention, more training than anyone else had bothered with. She taught us to fight, and she taught us to be invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded. . . ."
Jasper paused again and Harry realized that he was editing his story so as not to frighten them. That was almost laughable. Harry had seen enough of war to no longer be frightened by it.
"She was in a hurry, though. Maria knew that the massive strength of the newborn began to wane around the year mark, and she wanted to act while we were strong.
"There were six of us when I joined Maria's band. She added four more within a fortnight. We were all male – Maria wanted soldiers – and that made it slightly more difficult to keep from fighting amongst ourselves. I fought my first battles against my new comrades in arms. I was quicker than the others, better at combat. Maria was pleased with me, though put out that she had to keep replacing the ones I destroyed. I was rewarded often, and that made me stronger.
"Maria was a good judge of character. She decided to put me in charge of the others – as if I were being promoted. It suited my nature exactly. The casualties went down dramatically, and our numbers swelled to hover around twenty.
"This was considerable for the cautious times we lived in. My ability, as yet undefined, to control the emotional atmosphere around me was vitally effective."
Harry leaned forward so that he could see Luna. She smiled at him and mouthed "Empath." Harry nodded and leaned back to listen in once more.
"We soon began to work together in a way that newborn vampires had never cooperated before. Even Maria, Nettie, and Lucy were able to work together more easily.
"Maria grew quite fond of me – she began to depend upon me. And, in some ways, I worshipped the ground she walked on. I had no idea that any other life was possible. Maria told us this was the way things were, and we believed.
"She asked me to tell her when my brothers and I were ready to fight, and I was eager to prove myself. I pulled together an army of twenty-three in the end – twenty-three unbelievably strong new vampires, organized and skilled as no others before. Maria was ecstatic.
"We crept down toward Monterrey, her former home, and she unleashed us on her enemies. They had only nine newborns at the time, and a pair of older vampires controlling them. We took them down more easily than Maria could believe, losing only four in the process. It was an unheard-of margin of victory.
"And we were well trained. We did it without attracting notice. The city changed hands without any human being aware.
"Success made Maria greedy. It wasn't long before she began to eye other cities. That first year, she extended her control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. Then the others came from the South to dislodge her."
He brushed two fingers along the faint pattern of scars on his arm.
"The fighting was intense. Many began to worry that the Volturi would return. Of the original twenty-three, I was the only one to survive the first eighteen months. We both won and lost. Nettie and Lucy turned on Maria eventually – but that one we won.
"Maria and I were able to hold on to Monterrey. It quieted a little, though the wars continued. The idea of conquest was dying out; it was mostly vengeance and feuding now. So many had lost their partners, and that is something our kind does not forgive. . . .
"Maria and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They meant little to us – they were pawns, they were disposable. When they outgrew their usefulness, we did dispose of them. My life continued in the same violent pattern and the years passed. I was sick of it all for very long time before anything changed . . .
"Decades later, I developed a friendship with a newborn who'd remained useful and survived his first three years, against the odds. His name was Peter. I liked Peter; he was . . . civilized – I suppose that's the right word. He didn't enjoy the fight, though he was good at it.
"He was assigned to deal with the newborns – babysit them, you could say. It was a full-time job.
"And then it was time to purge again. The newborns were outgrowing their strength; they were due to be replaced. Peter was supposed to help me dispose of them. We took them aside individually, you see, one by one . . . It was always a very long night. This time, he tried to convince me that a few had potential, but Maria had instructed that we get rid of them all. I told him no.
"We were about halfway through, and I could feel that it was taking a great toll on Peter. I was trying to decide whether or not I should send him away and finish up myself as I called out the next victim. To my surprise, he was suddenly angry, furious. I braced for whatever his mood might foreshadow – he was a good fighter, but he was never a match for me.
"The newborn I'd summoned was a female, just past her year mark. Her name was Charlotte. His feelings changed when she came into view; they gave him away. He yelled for her to run, and he bolted after her. I could have pursued them, but I didn't. I felt . . . averse to destroying him.
"Maria was irritated with me for that . . .
"Five years later, Peter snuck back for me. He picked a good day to arrive.
"Maria was mystified by my ever-deteriorating frame of mind. She'd never felt a moment's depression, and I wondered why I was different. I began to notice a change in her emotions when she was near me – sometimes there was fear . . . and malice – the same feelings that had given me advance warning when Nettie and Lucy struck. I was preparing myself to destroy my only ally, the core of my existence, when Peter returned.
"Peter told me about his new life with Charlotte, told me about options I'd never dreamed I had. In five years, they'd never had a fight, though they'd met many others in the north. Others who could co-exist without the constant mayhem.
"In one conversation, he had me convinced. I was ready to go, and somewhat relieved I wouldn't have to kill Maria. I'd been her companion for as many years as Carlisle and Edward have been together, yet the bond between us was nowhere near as strong. When you live for the fight, for the blood, the relationships you form are tenuous and easily broken. I walked away without a backward glance.
"I traveled with Peter and Charlotte for a few years, getting the feel of this new, more peaceful world. But the depression didn't fade. I didn't understand what was wrong with me, until Peter noticed that it was always worse after I'd hunted.
"I contemplated that. In so many years of slaughter and carnage, I'd lost nearly all of my humanity. I was undeniably a nightmare, a monster of the grisliest kind. Yet each time I found another human victim, I would feel a faint prick of remembrance for that other life. Watching their eyes widen in wonder at my beauty, I could see Maria and the others in my head, what they had looked like to me the last night that I was Jasper Whitlock. It was stronger for me – this borrowed memory – than it was for anyone else, because I could feel everything my prey was feeling. And I lived their emotions as I killed them.
"You've experienced the way I can manipulate the emotions around myself, Bella, but I wonder if you realize how the feelings in a room affect me. I live every day in a climate of emotion. For the first century of my life, I lived in a world of bloodthirsty vengeance. Hate was my constant companion. It eased some when I left Maria, but I still had to feel the horror and fear of my prey.
"It began to be too much.
"The depression got worse, and I wandered away from Peter and Charlotte. Civilized as they were, they didn't feel the same aversion I was beginning to feel. They only wanted peace from the fight. I was so wearied by killing – killing anyone, even mere humans.
"Yet I had to keep killing. What choice did I have? I tried to kill less often, but I would get too thirsty and I would give in. After a century of instant gratification, I found self-discipline . . . challenging. I still haven't perfected that."
Jasper was lost in the story, as was Harry. It surprised him greatly when Jasper's desolate expression smoothed into a peaceful smile. And from Bella's jolt, Harry had to guess that it had shocked her also.
"I was in Philadelphia. There was a storm, and I was out during the day – something I was not completely comfortable with yet. I knew standing in the rain would attract attention, so I ducked into a little half-empty diner. My eyes were dark enough that no one would notice them, though this meant I was thirsty, and that worried me a little.
"She was there – expecting me, naturally." Jasper chuckled once. "She hopped down from the high stool at the counter as soon as I walked in and came directly toward me.
"It shocked me. I was not sure if she meant to attack. That's the only interpretation of her behavior my past had to offer. But she was smiling. And the emotions that were emanating from her were like nothing I'd ever felt before.
"'You've kept me waiting a long time,' she said."
Alice had gone to stand behind Bella again and the girl nearly jumped out of her skin when Alice started to talk.
"And you ducked your head, like a good Southern gentleman, and said, 'I'm sorry, ma'am.'" Alice laughed at the memory.
Jasper smiled down at her. "You held out your hand, and I took it without stopping to make sense of what I was doing. For the first time in almost a century, I felt hope."
Jasper took Alice's hand as he spoke. Alice grinned at him, her face alight with cheer. "I was just relieved. I thought you were never going to show up." They smiled at each other for a long moment, and then Jasper looked back at Bella, the soft expression lingering.
"Alice told me what she'd seen of Carlisle and his family. I could hardly believe that such an existence was possible. But Alice made me optimistic. So we went to find them."
"Scared the hell out of them, too," Edward said, rolling his eyes at Jasper before turning to Bella to explain. "Emmett and I were away hunting. Jasper shows up, covered in battle scars, towing this little freak" – he nudged Alice playfully – "who greets them all by name, knows everything about them, and wants to know which room she can move into."
Alice and Jasper laughed in harmony, and odd symphony of soprano and bass.
"When I got home, all my things were in the garage," Edward continued.
Alice shrugged at this. "Your room had the best view."
They all laughed together now.
"That's a nice story," Bella said with a small smile and Harry had to agree – at least the last part was nice.
"I mean the last part," Bella said defensively when the others turned to stare at her as if she were crazy. "The happy ending with Alice."
"Alice has made all the difference," Jasper agreed. "This is a climate I enjoy."
There was a pause.
"An army," Alice whispered, breaking it. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Everyone was intent again, their eyes locked on Jasper's face. Harry's hand was clenched into a tight fist. That little idea had taken bloom during Jasper's story. It was a newborn army in Seattle.
Blaise and Draco both turned to look at Harry as if questioning if it was their problem now. Harry wanted to say no, but could he really leave the Muggle population of Seattle to fend for themselves against rogue vampires? It wasn't in his nature to do so.
"I thought I must be interpreting the signs incorrectly," Jasper was saying to his family. "Because where is the motive? Why would someone create an army in Seattle? There is no history there, no vendetta. It makes no sense from a conquest standpoint, either; no one claims it. Nomads pass through, but there's no one to fight for it. No one to defend it from."
Everyone looked tense. Harry wondered if they were on the same page as him.
"But I've seen this before," Jasper continued. "And there's no other explanation. There is an army of newborn vampires in Seattle. Fewer than twenty, I'd guess. The difficult part is that they are totally untrained. Whoever made them just set them loose. It will only get worse, and it won't be much longer till the Volturi step in. Actually, I'm surprised they've let this go on so long."
"What can we do," Carlisle asked.
"If we want to avoid the Volturi's involvement, we will have to destroy the newborns, and we will have to do it very soon." Jasper's face was hard. Knowing his story now, it wasn't hard to guess why. Even Harry was having a hard time coming to this decision. No one who had to fight through one war wanted to go through another.
"I can teach you how. It won't be easy in the city. The young ones aren't concerned about secrecy, but we will have to be. It will limit us in ways that they are not. Maybe we can lure them out." Good idea, but Harry would rather they didn't do that.
"Maybe we won't have to," Edward said and his voice was bleak. "Does it occur to anyone else that the only possible threat in the area that would call for the creation of an army is . . . us?"
Jasper's eyes narrowed; Carlisle's widened, shocked. Harry thought over Edward's words and stiffened, sharing a look with Draco. The blonde looked very much like he had the day he had thought the killings in Seattle were being done by Death Eaters.
"Tanya's family is also near," Esme said slowly.
"The newborns aren't ravaging Anchorage, Esme. I think we have to consider the idea that we are the targets."
"They're not coming after us," Alice insisted with a conviction Harry did not understand, and then she paused, her eyes filming over much as it had that one day at lunch. "Or . . . they don't know that they are. Not yet."
"What is that?" Edward asked, curious and tense. "What are you remembering?"
"Flickers," Alice said vaguely. "I can't see a clear picture when I try to see what's going on, nothing concrete. But I've been getting these strange flashes. Not enough to make sense of. It's as if someone's changing their mind, moving from one course of action to another so quickly that I can't get a good view. . . ."
"Indecision," Jasper asked in disbelief.
"I don't know. . . ."
"Not indecision," Edward growled. "Knowledge. Someone who knows you can't see anything until the decision is made. Someone who is hiding from us. Playing with the holes in your vision."
"She has visions," Neville asked in disbelief. Draco and Harry both shrugged.
"Of course she does. Don't know that some Muggle vampires get special gifts," Luna said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Well, to Luna it may be, she was a Ravenclaw after all.
"Who would know that," Alice whispered, looking suddenly horrified.
Edward's eyes were hard as ice as he said, "Aro knows you as well as you know yourself." Harry wondered who Aro was. And the Volturi. And the Tanya.
So many new questions and so few answers.
The Cullens were now debating over whether or not these Volturi people were creating the army and why.
Harry honestly couldn't follow it all because he didn't know who the Volturi were.
"Then let's go," Emmett suddenly shouted, jumping into the debate. "What are we waiting for?" Carlisle and Edward exchanged a long glance. Edward nodded once.
"We'll need you to teach us, Jasper," Carlisle finally said. "How to destroy them." Harry let out a small sigh and turned to Draco with a slight smile, silently saying that all was good and the Cullens would handle this.
"We're going to need help," Jasper said and that brought Harry up a put that smug smile back on Draco's face. "Do you think Tanya's family would be willing . . . ? Another five mature vampires would make an enormous difference. And then Kate and Eleazar would be especially advantageous on our side. It would be almost easy, with their aid."
"We'll ask," Carlisle answered.
Jasper held out a cell phone. "We need to hurry."
Carlisle took the phone, and paced toward the windows. He dialed a number, held the phone to his ear, and laid the other hand against the glass. He stared out into the foggy morning with a pained and ambivalent expression.
Harry thought this was the perfect time to get some questions answered.
"So . . . does anyone want to inform us on what exactly is going on?"
Bella jumped a little and turned to stare at them with wide eyes, as if she had forgotten they were there. Edward turned also, his jaw clenched tightly. He didn't seem like he was going to talk any time soon. Harry narrowed his eyes at that.
"Look. We," Harry began, waving his hand at his group, "aren't exactly helpless. And if you need help we'll be happy to provide it." At this Emmett let out a snort. Draco stepped forward with a low growl.
"Don't test me vampire," the blonde hissed. "I could take you out with a simple wave of my wand. You wouldn't know what hit you." Emmett huffed and shrugged as if Draco's words meant nothing to him.
"If you don't want out help then we don't care," Harry spoke then, holding his arm out to keep Draco from doing something rash. "I'm sick of fighting anyways. I just wanted to make sure you all knew that we could be of some help."
Edward opened his mouth now, an angry retort ready on his lips, but he was distracted when there was a sudden change in Carlisle's tone.
"Oh," the doctor said, his voice sharper in surprise. "We didn't realize . . . that Irina felt that way."
Edward groaned and closed his eyes.
"Damn it. Damn Laurent to the deepest pit of hell where he belongs."
"Laurent?" Bella whispered, the blood emptying from her face.
Carlisle was still talking, his voice not quite pleading. Persuasive, but with an edge. Then the edge abruptly won out over the persuasion.
"There's no question of that," Carlisle said in a stern voice. "We have a truce. They haven't broken it, and neither will we. I'm sorry to hear that. . . . Of course. We'll just have to do our best alone."
Carlisle shut the phone without waiting for an answer. He continued to stare out into the fog.
"What's the problem," Emmett murmured to Edward.
"Irina was more involved with our friend Laurent than we knew. She's holding a grudge against the wolves for destroying him to save Bella. She wants –" He paused, looking over at Bella.
"Go on," she said evenly.
"She wants revenge. To take down the pack. They would trade their help for our permission."
"No," Bella and Draco gasped at the same time. Harry looked curiously at the Malfoy, but he was staring at the wall, his face tense.
"Don't worry," Edward said in a flat voice. "Carlisle would never agree to it." Edward hesitated a moment, then sighed. "Nor would I. Laurent had it coming and I still owe the wolves for that."
"This isn't good," Jasper said suddenly. "It's too even a fight. We'd have the upper hand in skill, but not numbers. We'd win, but at what price?" His tense eyes flashed to Alice's face and then away.
Harry gritted his teeth. He may have known the Cullens for a little bit but he didn't like the idea of them being take out. Especially Edward . . .
"Then let us help," Luna spoke up for him and they all turned to stare at them.
"No," Carlisle immediately protested, "I don't want to involve any of you. You have no—"
"Don't tell me that there's no reason I should help you all," Harry growled suddenly, cutting Carlisle off. Everyone was staring at Harry with surprise now.
He was so angry his magic was seeping out of his skin and saturating the air. Luna and the guys were backing away from him cautiously.
"You know damn well that I'm invested in this. I'm sure you all know what Edward is to me, so don't you dare keep me out of this. I'm bloody well helping you, whether you want me to or not. I will not stand by idly while someone else I love dies!" And with that said, Harry swept from the room, taking with him the dense feeling that had been in the air.
Everyone watched him go in stunned silence.
"Did he just admit that I was a loved one," Edward asked after a moment.
Yea I really wanted to put Jasper's story in there. I love Jasper!
Also, I'd completely understand if none of ya'll reviewed.