Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight; and I never will.

Author's note: I don't know if I've done this recently (or at all), but thanks to all of you who've supported this crazy endeavor and all of its tawdry quirks. I appreciate every bit of it, so please keep it coming! – Carie Lea

Chapter Ten: Good Intent

After an hour, I couldn't take it anymore. Alice, Rose, and Mum were hammering me with questions while Esme explained a few things to Hunter. Jasper was out trying to stave off the inevitable headache (too many flailing emotions in the damn house) with a motorcycle ride. Dad had already dashed off to the cottage, for unknown reasons. So, being daughter like father, I took off into the woods the second mum took her hands off my shoulders.

Dad, of course, was nose-deep in a thick book when I stumbled into the living room of my now foreign-feeling home. He glanced over at me questioningly as I collapsed onto the couch. I've been told I have a flair for the dramatics. I wasn't really tired, but frustration exhausted me; so I was kind of tired. You could've heard a pin drop for what felt like five minutes. I had my face buried in a pillow, but could still hear the light rustle of the book pages as dad set it on the table.

"Honestly, I thought you would've been here earlier, Nessa," He said, clasping his hands together. I rolled over and sat up, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I dunno if you know or not, but mum has a grip like a vice," I joked. Chewing on my lip for a second, I tried to decide what to bring up first. Of course, dad already knew what I was thinking (it came in handy sometimes).

"Your mother didn't want to tell you," dad started slowly, keeping that eerily still eye contact. "You were young when the first visit came and it blindsided us. It had somehow slipped Alice's mind, but we made an agreement. You'd be observed from a distance; obviously that's just been broken. I apologize for the way this has been uncovered,"

"Okay, who'd you make the agreement with?" I asked.

"Alec," dad replied simply. "He's always been the one to come," For some reason, I felt like I was trapped in a movie where everyone takes shocking news shockingly well. I was out of sorts, in a state where everything was okay even when something had gone really wrong. I don't know how I wasn't constantly thinking about my own little deal, but I was glad I was. Dad would not have taken a liking to that.

"And how does Hunter mess this deal up?"

"I don't believe he does, apart from Alec's original boundaries being broken. Then again, Aro is erratic. It is impossible to totally predict his movements – go ask Alice,"

"Things could go wrong really fast; is that what you mean?" dad nodded, bending forward to prop his elbows on his knees. When he and I talked, he always seemed much older than his appearance, and not simply because he is. The three of us go out in public and I suddenly become a cousin, younger sister, a twin. These conversations never occur outside of the cottage, which makes them treasured.

"He's a good hunter, Nessa; your brother, I mean. He was thinking about his family while we were tracking and I think I see why you thought him deserving. Carlisle also thinks he may have a small ability; nothing much but it could get stronger," I could hear his discomfort plain as day. He didn't want it to be evident, but he's my father. I could pick up on it anywhere.

"What kind of ability?"

"Well, I should ask you, Nessa," Dad smiled. "Did you notice anything that Hunter was skilled at?" Dropping back onto the couch, I wracked my brain for the things I missed the first time around. Little stuff that doesn't seem all too important. I sat back up and shook my head; nothing came to mind.

"Can I stay here for the night?" I mumbled. Dad raised an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't you be able to?" He stared at me curiously. I shrugged, and began to my childhood bedroom. It was light pink with a really pretty handmade quilt on the small bed, and it happened to take up the entire attic because our house was one story. The décor was quaintly old fashioned: antique furniture, 19th century French fashion plates of women in fabulously bustled gowns, prints of rose studies from horticultural books, and warmly cabled throws.

"Good night, Nessa," dad called as I was shutting the door. I checked the window, but saw nothing. The only thing I pick up on was a wet dog smell, probably a mile out.

The next morning, I decided that I deserved more than one perspective on the predicament. Dad and I had walked back to the main house together and I'd gone upstairs to get dressed. Alec's room was conveniently across the hall from mine, so I didn't bother to knock before barging in. Not that it had a lock anyway…

"Privacy doesn't exist here, does it?" He smirked, his eyes still raking over me in that uncomfortable fashion. He threw on a shirt and I leaned up against the wall.

"You're living in one house with 10 people," I replied sarcastically. "You better get used to it," He laughed and moved towards me, sauntering almost. I felt my limbs stiffen out of habit.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," I rolled my eyes, but that didn't affect his smug expression. It seemed that the smirk was permanently plastered to his face. "To think I have to put up with this on a daily basis… are you always like this?" When I didn't give him an answer, he returned to the twin bed next to the window, sitting down.

"I only came to ask how this arrangement of ours is going to play out," I sighed, feeling an impatience bubbling up. His face sobered up and he motioned for me to sit next to him. Reluctantly, I wandered over. "I mean, we can't have them catching us because that would ruin it. So, what do you suggest?" I smiled, hoping that maybe I'd find a loophole; something that made these occurrences few and far-between.

"Now, isn't this nice?" Alec strayed off topic, brushing a few hairs off my face. I leaned away, giving him a shaky glare. He watched me closely, fingers trailing over my arms and playing with my bracelets. I couldn't help thinking that there was another week and a half until school started back up; then I'd have him tagging along. "Even with your nasty personality, you're still pretty tame,"

"Answer my question, then we'll discuss the logistics of my attitudes." I smiled again, the impatience replaced with annoyance. He smiled back; there was a hint of violence in it. Grabbing my wrist, he tugged me into the bathroom. Picking me up easily, he placed me on the counter.

"Now, we can make this as painless as possible for you, Renesme," Alec spoke softly, bringing his hands up to touch my neck. Pushing my hair away and pulling me closer, he whispered "So, let me have a taste," I swallowed hard, feeling his breath on my skin sent chills up my spine.

"One call?" I answered, sounding like a scared child.

"One call," he reaffirmed. I glanced towards the door, waiting for someone to call down the hallway for me. They didn't and I took a deep breath. "Don't be so proud, Renesme,"

"Make it quick," I relented, placing a steadying hand on Alec's shoulder. "or stop when I tell you to, understand?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," and with that Alec split the skin protecting my carotid artery. He moved one hand deeper into my hair and the other slid down to my waist. I draped my arms over his shoulder, loosely grabbing at his shirt. Despite Alec being latched to my throat and the potential for any one of my family members to walk in, I was more worried about any mark left over. Honestly, who wouldn't draw attention if they walked around with a scar shaped like someone's teeth imprints?

It was an off sensation, the pulling from under the skin. I actually think I may have gagged a few times. The feeling didn't last though; two minutes had passed and grey splotches were invading my vision. I gave Alec's dark brown hair a sharp tug and he pulled away, coughing. I slumped forward, my head resting on his shoulder, and my fingers shot up to the wound.

"Is it safe to say that you don't owe me anything right now?" I gasped. Alec pushed me away, smirk still intact.

"We'll never be on those terms, Renesme," Alec kept his eyes glued to mine even as I slipped off the counter. "Don't count on it, kid," Pulling my hair over the staunched cut, I steadied my breathing and gave him a bitter grin.

"Then I'll get out of your hair," He gave me a curt nod and I ran for the door, managing to dash into my room and clean myself up enough before Alice started banging at my door.

On December 24th, I was sitting on the table in Hunter's room, trying to pick his brain. Alec had left me alone in the two and a half days since our last run-in. Today, I'd decided to work on my brother's ability; at least help it surface. Hunter seemed convinced that he wasn't capable of anything, while Carlisle maintained that he was. So, I played mediator. We'd spent the past days reviewing the unwritten rule/guidebook of Hunter's new world and I'd even quizzed him a couple times.

"Come on, Hunter," Fingernails pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. He would not relax. "If you relax a little bit, I can figure out what's going on in that stubborn head of yours," Hunter sat in on the couch a few inches away, hands raking through his hair. He probably wanted to kill me because I sounded like a broken record.

"Ness, you sound like a shrink," He sighed, finally looking at me. I shifted; those dark blue eyes were still unsettling. I shook my head, and then stared at him.

"Since when am I 'Ness'?" I asked.

"Since I decided that Ren doesn't suit you anymore," Hunter gave me a grin. "It'll just have to grow on you, sis," I could see Hunter relax and held out my hands for the twentieth time that day. This time, Hunter finally took them.

"Good enough for me," I weighed his hands in mine before continuing. "Hunter, all I want you to do is concentrate on me. Concentrate on using your gift on me, alright," He nodded and closed his eyes. Out of habit, I did too. I began concentrating on the fake memories of us as children, to give him something to work with. When I rolled the memory of us shouting at one another from the bedroom doors, something shifted. My shoes turned from black to bright green and my hair was a bob-cut. Hunter's room was no longer next to mine, but across the hall and was wearing a sweater, not a tee shirt. My hands snapped away from Hunter's. I jumped up and started bouncing around, my scarf moving with me. My brother just watched me curiously from the couch.

"I knew you had a gift!" I exclaimed, trying to hold in my excitement. "I knew it! We need to celebrate!" I grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Hunter jerked his hand back.

"We're celebrating?" He asked, clearly confused. I nodded and he considered this for a minutes. "Okay, Ness, how would you celebrate this odd occasion?"

"Hunter, I figure you should learn one more thing about me today, besides my unmatched persistence," I grinned. "When I'm happy, I bake," I nodded my head downstairs toward the kitchen, then slid down the banister; Hunter keeping up with me all the way. So that's how the rest of the afternoon was spent; baking macaroons and then concocting dinner.

A few things I learned about Hunter:

- Doesn't like chocolate (I planned to fix this with pie)

- Never read the New Yorker or the New York Times or Haper's.

- Never been to Europe, only Asia (I hadn't been to either).

- Only eats Oreos with peanut butter because of The Parent Trap

"What do you all do for Christmas?" Hunter asked as we ate pasta in the kitchen. He had the 'decency' to sit at the counter. I preferred to sit on the counter; get a good view of everything, especially since Alec was sitting in the living room reading. I let the tongs of my fork scrape across the bottom of the bowl as I lazily twirled the utensil. Apparently I didn't answer quickly enough because Hunter made a small noise in the back of his throat and I snapped back to attention.

"Christmas?" I paused, taking in a lung-full of air. "After I got past my toddler stage, the whole 'most wonderful time of the year' mentality wore off pretty quickly." My tongue let the t's and k's pop as I finished. Hunter stared on, positively wonderstruck by the idea. For someone that grew into a deep distrust of his family, Hunter sure had peculiar emotions about a family-oriented holiday.

"Then what's with the cross in the hallway upstairs? I got the feeling that you all were probably religious," Hunter swallowed, watching me closely. My gaze flickered back to Alec for a second. I shook my head, mentally scolding myself for worrying about the nonsense proposition now – I couldn't have Hunter thinking assuming anything outside of fear. Forcing myself away from the inner soliloquy I had going, I hoped off the counter. I moved to where my brother sat, dropping into the seat next to him.

"It's Carlisle's… I'll tell you about it later," I dismissed it with a toss of my wrist. "Back to the holidays; if you had anything in mind, we could do it together. I have my car privileges back."

"My father insisted that we attend church, and then have something like a family dinner…" He trailed off as his mind began wandering back in time. His features softened, but without trace of sadness. I placed a hand on his knee, hoping consolation for whatever was distressing would pass through the touch. Slowly exhaling, Hunter continued: "I used to dread it, but… Would you hold it against me if I said that I want to try it again, with you?"

I shook my head, proffering a simple smile to prove my meaning. "We'll do anything you like. It could just be the two of us, if you like. I promise the rest aren't as bad as they seem right now, so if you want any of them to come, just ask."

And that was how I found myself sitting in the pews of a Catholic church on Christmas Eve with one of my grandmother's veils pinned to my hair. Hunter sat to one side of me, clutching my hand, while Carlisle read through an old bible with head bowed. I didn't speak Latin – still don't speak Latin – so I hadn't a chance of understanding what was going on; instead, I stared at the glowing stained glass windows. The one that captured my attention the longest was that of the Virgin Mary – somber facial expression, but brilliantly shaded in royal golds, reds, greens, and blues. Once I had read a religiously motivated book. Whoever the author was described in great, almost explicit, detail the feeling of judgement and rapture. Exhilaration, adrenaline and shame were supposed to course through the body, setting each nerve ending ablaze as the feeling passed. It was a sensation that altered when your fate was decided upon: a soft, engulfing warmth at the pearly gates, a numbing for purgatory, and a hellish, consuming wildfire if Hell was your destination. Sitting under the imagined scrutiny of Mary, I couldn't help feeling tingling beneath my skin. It wasn't the rapture, but it was inescapable and dread-inducing.

Nemesis was studying me at that very moment, I absolutely new it.

Author's Note:

Hey look – I updated! In all seriousness, I have been trying to finish this chapter in hopes of getting the idea-ball rolling again, but nothing has worked. I've gotten distracted by the BBC… But, who hasn't these days? Especially at my school, where everyone has some bit of memorabilia from a Con proclaiming their fandom – Whovian, Sherlockian, Broadchurcher, &c. I have, though, been developing other stories in this absence. Hopefully (if school doesn't wring out all my free time first – touch wood), I will be able to bring them to you :D

Thank you all for your continued readership during my ever-extended hiatus. Life happens and it's incredibly encouraging to know that these little experiments are being embraced by real people. I genuinely appreciate it all.

Chapter 11 by Chirstmas, my lovelies – I promise!

Carie Lea