Chapter Eleven

Sam was thinking fast, his eyes flickering between Victoria and me. After a moment he nodded reluctantly. As I approached her, my face wary, Jacob's desperate whines sounded in my ears.

"Hello, Victoria," I said. My voice was stone cold, and oddly polite.

"Bella Swan." Victoria inclined her head, fiery hair billowing in the fierce wind. Her voice—I had never heard it before—was not musical like that of the other vampires I'd encountered. To me, though, it was perversely captivating, and I found myself wanting to hear her speak again.

The wolves watched the exchange with intent, guarded eyes, but their anxiety was evident. Jacob was panicking, shifting from paw to paw and whimpering with hysteria. I could almost hear Sam's cautioning in his mind.

"Well," I murmured, "we might as well get this over with." I smiled grimly, unwilling to betray my fear. "I'm what you came for, right?"

Victoria's teeth gleamed in the faint light as she smiled. "Why, yes," she agreed in a soft purr. "But there's no need to rush—I've been waiting for this for a long time."

She slowly began to circle, her bloody eyes surveying me with a strange, twisted greed. I forced myself not to shift in response, but my own eyes followed her.

"I would think that you would be eager," I ground out. "You having such a personal interest in my demise, and all."

Her voice was slightly more dangerous than before. "Ah. But this is not all as personal as you might think, Bella Swan. An eye for an eye, that's all. A mate for a mate. Though, it seems now that yours didn't feel for you so, after all..."

An involuntary cry of pain tore from my lips; the hole in my chest cracked open.

"Yes," Victoria whispered, her face full of recognition. "You feel it, as well. But there is the difference between us. My James was torn away from me… your Edward didn't care enough to stay."

Jacob's enraged growl only lasted for a moment before it was silenced by Sam. I clenched my fists and teeth, struggling with the urge to wrap my arms around my chest.

She was right, that was the problem. She was absolutely right. Edward hadn't cared enough about me to stay.

I stared at her in silence, unwilling to lower my chin in acquiescence and also unwilling to lift it in rebellion. How could I challenge her when what she said was true?

It suddenly occurred to me that Victoria was lucky. When James died, at least she had known that he cared about her. At least she had that to hold onto.

I, unlike her, didn't have that. All I had were memories—dim, beautiful human memories that tore at my insides to even think about. Memories of the vampire who hadn't really loved me all as much as he said.

So what right had she to kill me, when she was better off than I was? Victoria was right; that was the injustice of it all. I wasn't Edward's mate—I never had been in the first place!

At this wild thought, all sadness was replaced with anger. My world was tinted with red; Victoria's eyes and flaming hair dominated my vision. A deep, guttural growl, unlike any other I had given, began rumbling in my chest.

The vampire instincts were beginning to take over. That ever-familiar Run or Fight, Run or Fight, was pulsing in my head—but there was no doubt in my mind which one I would choose.

I would fight. I was scared as hell, but I would fight.

Never before had I revealed my inner animal around the pack: I let it take over now, let it flare in my eyes and alter my posture. Suddenly I felt fiercely uninhibited, savage. My shoulders rippled back, and I raised my chin and bared my teeth in defiance. "Mate for mate, then," I challenged, falling into a crouch. "Avenge your precious James, Victoria. I'm ready."

Everything happened very quickly.

Victoria threw herself at me, snarling with rage, and I launched myself forward to meet her attack. We collided with a deafening crash.

Wolves' howls were loud in my ears as we grappled, tearing and biting at each other with feral energy, rolling on the warm ground, snapping at each other's throats, each of us desperately trying to gain the upper hand. Fear clawed at my stomach as I fought for my life.

I wouldn't be able to tell how long we struggled. Victoria and I were so evenly matched that it seemed impossible for one of us to gain dominance. My newborn-vampire strength was set off by her years of fighting experience.

It was as if both of us were fueled by our own misery and pain, striving unceasingly to overwhelm the opponent with its force. In the end, it didn't matter which of us was stronger or faster or a better fighter. All that mattered was whose pain was greater.

And it was mine.

With a final growl, I wrapped my right leg around my adversary's, flipped her backwards, and tore my teeth into her throat. Her neck snapped back from the blow, and she suddenly became very still.

When I looked down into her frozen, dead face, her eyes were still full of fury and her lips still pulled back from her teeth in a grimace of hate. I shuddered once and pulled back, tearing my eyes away from her face.

I stood, wincing at the pain of my burning wounds, and faced the werewolves. They gazed back with a mixture of concern, relief, and pride. Sam-Wolf stepped forward, shaking out his black fur, his eyes gleaming in triumph.

Nodding at Jacob and his brothers, I spoke quietly. "Finish her."

Not wanting to watch as they complied, I turned away and began walking in the direction of Jake's house. The cuts and gashes covering my body were healing quickly. I wondered if they would leave permanent marks, like the wolf-claw scars on my legs.

But it didn't matter, I decided. I didn't need to fear for my life anymore; I was free. A weight was falling from my shoulders. It was all over.

Victoria was dead.

Author's Note: There's chappy eleven for you. I remember when Beauty and the Beast was just an idea forming in my head--this chapter was one of the first things I imagined. Many, many thanks to Lomesir for being such an incredible beta.

And thanks to all you guys for reading...Well, how was the chapter? Please review, I crave feedback.

--Poola