I own nothing.
The rain dropped down like a steel-wool blanket over Seattle. The blacktop was as reflective as a mirror, warped by the rippling effect of the rain. Beneath my feet, the concrete was slick and dangerous, threatening to topple me off the roof on which I was perched. Ten stories below me, the figures walked, their colored umbrellas bright against the gray of the pavement. Their destination was a nightclub that I had been staking out for weeks, hoping to understand the rumors I had heard about strange occurrences there. I narrowed my eyes and focused intently on the last straggler in the group. His umbrella was black, but even it's shadow could not hide the glamours that I was seeing through.
Slithering over the edge of the building, I gripped hard to the wall that was covered by shadows and shimmied down a few stories. When I got to what was roughly the fourth story, I pushed myself away from the wall and flipped myself over. I spiraled once through the air, before landing on my feet. I staggered slightly, scowling and blaming the water. It was lucky Jace wasn't here to see my graceless landing; I would have never lived that down.
Tying my hair back and twisting it into a knot, I ducked behind a dry area near the dumpster and pulled out a change of clothes. Ducking into them, I changed quickly into a revealing red dress. I slipped a thigh sheath on and wrapped my electrum whips around my wrists like bracelets, a trick I learned from Izzy. Slipping a blessed iron anklet on above my dangerously high heels, I clomped off through puddles and jogged to catch up with my target. He was in line, three people in as I got in line. The bouncer was checking his I.D., but I saw the bouncer's eyes glaze over as he nodded for the boy to enter. I waited impatiently, and the bouncer gave me a stern look as I handed him my fake card (I was so glad Izzy had insisted on finding me one in New York). He looked at me curiously, as if he couldn't believe I was twenty one. As if on cue, I undid my hair and let it fall around my face in messy, wet curls. His expression became placid and he gestured for me to go inside. Winking at him and wiggling my fingers, I walked daintily inside.
The club was packed, with people ranging from wall to wall. My eyes skimmed the crowds, looking for the boy. I spotted him by the bar, chatting with a pretty barmaid. His eyes reflected gold in the lights, and I smirked to myself. Easy prey.
Making my way through the crowd, I sauntered my way to the counter and leaned against it, propped my arms on it and curving my body out and away from it. Smiling sweetly at the barmaid, I ordered a screwdriver and turned to the boy. I gave him a once over, drinking in the details of his body. He was tall and muscular, with perfect features and flawless wavy black hair. I smiled at him, fluttering my eyelashes a bit and turning my body towards him. "What brings you here?" I asked softly, pitching my voice low and smooth.
He leaned against the counter, displaying his overly perfect body. "Looking for a good time," he said, flashing a smile in my direction. In the flash of the strobe light the glamour melted away, revealing the serrated edges of his teeth to me. "What about you?"
I tossed my hair back and trilled out a cute laugh that would have made Izzy proud. "I'm just hoping to forget a hard week, baby."
His smile was sharp as he leaned close to me and murmured in my ear, "How about letting me help you with that?" I caught the double meaning in his words, but I let it slide.
Downing the screwdriver drink that the bartender slid me, I slapped a bill on the counter and took the young man's hand and lead him towards the dance floor, telling him with a sly smile: "I thought you'd never ask."
I began to dance and he fell into rhythm with me, his hands and body a ghost near mine. I twined myself around him, coiling like a serpent and slithering away every time his hands tried to explore me. His smile was cold as he spoke directly into my ear, purring out things that mundane girls lost their heads over. I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes, allowing my body to react slightly, to entice him. His hand enveloped mine as he lead me away from the dance floor.
His walk was jaunty and self-assured as he guided me towards the back rooms. No doubt an incubus like him would be bursting with pride at such an easy conquest, let alone such a pretty one. His smile was sharp as he pushed open a door, his hand on my back as he drew me close. He nuzzled the side of my neck and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of a new conquest.
"I never caught your name," I whispered, twining my arms around his neck.
"It's Beliliovitch," he whispered, his voice as gravelly as broken glass. Son of Belili, in Russian, or the son of Lilith. Incubus. "What's your name, my sweet?"
"Isabella Wayland," I murmured, and his body stiffened. Slipping a blade from my thigh sheath, I pressed it to his throat and maneuvered him against a wall. His eyes flashed in surprise as I leaned closer and said softly, "And you know what I am, incubus."
"Nephilim," he spat, and I smiled slyly at him.
"You know what happens next?" I asked, my voice still sweet.
"You try to kill me," he whispered back. "But you can't if you're dead." With a sudden slash at my face, the incubus threw me backwards into the wall.
Ignoring the ringing in my ears, I lunged after him, my blade a flash of light as I threw it straight into his shoulder. He hissed at me, teeth bared in an ugly leer as he ripped the knife blade from his body. Black blood dripped from it, hissing onto the ground. "You filthy bitch," he snarled, his body distorting. Claws began to grow from his fingertips, matched by the sharpening of his teeth. He struck me again, knocking me into the wall so hard that I felt the wall dent against me. "See how cocky you are when I slaughter every girl in Seattle," he cackled, his voice sharp and slick.
He darted towards the door, his body rippling and flying together in an imitation of a human-like run. Unwrapping the electrum whip from my wrist, I lashed it at the demon. The golden cord hummed through the air, snaking around his waist and burning into his flesh. As he howled in pain, I flicked my wrist back and sent him crashing into the opposite wall. Pulling a seraph blade from my sheath, I softly named it and held it tightly in my right hand. "Tell your other carrion friends to stay out of Washington," I told him, before twisting the blade and plunging it into his chest.
HIs eyes widened and turned white, leaving only his too-wide pupils staring at me. Black acidic blood poured from his mouth, pooling around him and burning the mundane clothes he was wearing. He choked, a sound of shattering windows, and then he began to fold in on himself. I averted my eyes from the scene, waiting for him to finish returning to his dimension. When he was gone, I picked up my small throwing blade from where he had flung it. It was surprisingly whole after the demon blood it had been doused in, but incubus blood wasn't too detrimental. Wandering around the room, I picked up all of my weapons and tried to wipe them off. It didn't work, so I simply cursed under my breath and looked for an available exit.
There was a small window, placed high up on the wall. It was tinted and dusty, but it was enough. Wrapping the electrum whip back around my wrist and tucking the seraph blade back into my sheath, I held my throwing knife in my hand and scrambled up the wall towards the ledge. Hovering on the edge, I shoved the window open and peeked outside. There was a small, narrow alley way outside, in between the club and a business building. Squeezing myself through the window (it was barely big enough for my head and shoulders to get through) and vowing to get myself back in shape, I slipped quietly into the alleyway. Rain began to fall on my head immediately and I held out my knife, letting the rain wash away the blood.
I slipped down the alleyway, taking great pains to stay quiet and unnoticed. I slipped away, past the doormen and towards the small alleyway where I had hidden my bag of clothes with a glamour. I changed again, sighing in relief as I redressed myself in my typical fighting gear. The red dress I had worn was halfway ruined, but I really didn't care. I reluctantly shoved it into my bag, thinking that I would probably be able to use it again someday. Scrawling a few glamours onto my arms, I trotted out of the alleyway and towards the abandoned warehouse that I found. I slipped through the windows and unlocked the door as I went, before running upwards to grab my motorcycle. I drove outside and took off. The engine had been revamped so that it was nearly silent as I drove.
I drove fast and hard, making the trip back home to Forks in less than an hour. It was nearly midnight as I pulled up to my driveway and unbuckled my helmet. I pushed the motorcycle to the side of the house and hid it under a tarp, too tired to drive it to the Cullen's for storage. I let myself back into the house, trying my best to be quiet and not to wake Charlie. I then found that it's rather hard to not wake someone who has stayed awake, waiting for you to come home.
"It's rather late at night, Bella," Charlie said softly from the living room. I swallowed nervously and made my way to the room. He was seated in his chair, a book laying open in his lap as he stared at me. I shuffled nervously from foot to foot, and he asked quietly, "How was the hunt?"
"Good," I said quietly, peering up at him through my wet hair. "I tracked an incubus that had been preying on girls at a nightclub and sent him back to his dimension." A nice way of saying that I slew the incubus.
Charlie nodded, grunting. "You didn't get hurt, did you?" The concern in his voice was nearly obscured by the gruffness of his tone.
I thought of my aching back, sore from when the incubus had thrown me into a wall a few times. My wrist was a little raw from the rubbing of the electrum whip, which had some traces of the demon's blood on it. Nothing an iratze couldn't cure. "Nope," I told him.
Charlie's mustache twitched in a smile. "Good," he said, sounding sincerely pleased. His eyes took in my wet-rat appearance, and he said, "Why don't you go take a shower before going to bed?"
I nodded gratefully before tromping up the stairs, my boots heavy and loud as they echoed harshly against the wood floors. In the bathroom, I stripped down and scrutinized my body, looking for any obvious wounds. I scrawled an iratze on my wrist and back, before rechecking my body. The sting of the marks began to ease the pains I felt, and I saw no injuries on my lean body. Satisfied, I hopped into the shower and let the hot water pour over me.
Half an hour later, I was collapsing onto my bed and falling into a deep, sweet sleep.
. . .
The next afternoon (I had woken up at noon) I decided to ride my motorcycle back to the Cullen's house. I rode slowly, savoring the August sunlight. It was humid today, the air sticky and hot after the storm last night. By the time I reached the Cullen's old house, my skin was sticky and flushed. I opened the garage door and wheeled my motorcycle inside. There were tracks from where I had pushed my motorcycle in and out of their garage, and footsteps from where I had walked to but never through the door leading to their house. I approached the door, as I always did, but my hand reached out and rested on the doorknob. It was cool under my touch, inviting me forward. Part of me quailed, but the rest of me surged upwards in pride. I was a Nephilim again; there was no reason for me to shirk away from such a simple task.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The house was as quiet as it had been when I had left it, it's dusty halls muted and gutted. My feet padded lightly through the halls, producing not echo on the lonely, dusty floors. I called a shy greeting, but it too fell upon silence, it's echo greedily devoured by the dusty halls. It seemed that even the sound had left this place.
I walked through the house, drifting as I had before. I paused at the foot of the staircase and allowed my hand to rest on the wooden railing. I did not hesitate to ascend the staircase, my feet creating soft puffs of dust as I walked. I drifted towards Rosalie and Emmett's room, taking in the still sight of the white sheeted bed. My body drifted through the room, looking for something, anything that would hint that they had lived there. Only my memories answered and I sighed, defeated, before going to Edward's room. It was as bare as before, the music gone from his shelves and gone from the very fibers of the room itself. There used to be a golden beauty to this room, reminding me of the topaz glimmer of his eyes. Nothing but washed out colors greeted me, and even the memories of Edward seemed faded. I left his room, a sour taste in my mouth as I went towards Alice and Jasper's room.
The bookshelf was now covered in dust, and I pressed my fingertips to a shelf, remembering the sheen of the book's spines as Jasper had perused them. His hands would pluck a book from the shelf, tender as he cradled it in his hands and soft as he would surrender the book to me, allowing me to gently look through it's pages. My fingers left imprints in the dust, a ghostly imprint of where I had been. I approached Alice's closet, opening the doors wide as I looked through it. At first, I saw nothing, not even a hanger or a thread on the floor. But when I craned my neck upwards, up to where Alice had stored other things, I caught sight of the tip of what looked like a plastic bag. Stretching on the tips of my toes, I dragged the bag off of the shelf and set it on the ground and sat next to it. My fingers cautiously opened the bag, probing into it and brushing against thick paper. I pulled out a small wad of photographs, my fingers slipping across the slick surfaces. Under my fingertips were photos I had taken of Edward, photographs of times we had shared. Unconsciously I sank closer to the pictures, my breath catching in my throat. There were the pictures of us at prom, my golden dress catching the light and bringing out the gold of Edward's eyes. There were pictures of us, holding hands or his arms wrapping around me and holding me close. I shuffled through the photographs, watching a different life of mine flood before my eyes.
When I had looked through all of the photographs, I gently put them back into the bag and returned it to the top shelf. The pictures had stirred up memories, but they no longer ached as they used to. It was another, happy life I had lead that I saw in these pictures, but it was no longer the only happiness I had.
Closing Alice's closet, I turned and went back downstairs. As I descended the last step, I glanced to the side and saw the room that housed the piano. I walked down that hallway and went to the instrument, standing in the doorway and drinking in the sight of it. It stood where it always had been, but unlike any of the other things, it was disturbed. The covering was still mussed from when I had last dared to enter the house. I approached the piano reverently, like a pilgrim to a shrine. I brushed my fingertips across the covering, leaving trails in the dust that had accumulated once more on it. Seized by an impulse, I ripped the covering off the piano in a cloud of dust. My hand reached out, brushing against the wood covering the keys. I opened the cover and stared at the ivory keys. Dust motes floated through the air and a few settled on the piano keys. The only way to keep the dust away was to play, that's what my mother always used to tell me...
I seated myself on the bench and settled down, straightening my back. My hands rose and posed themselves automatically on the keys, the muscles knowing what to do. I tapped my foot for beat, in time with some unheard metronome. One an invisible signal, my fingers darted across the keys, creating a melody that was only known to the Nephilim musicians. I could hear my mother in the back of my mind, clapping her hands in time as she called instructions to me. Memories of my childhood gathered in my head like water in a well, waiting to be drawn out. Memories of days spent at the piano, stubbornly piecing together the melody until it could burst out as music. Memories of Jace, his smile bright and his eyes burning as he played alongside me, laughing whenever I made a mistake. Even thoughts of Edward, his slender, pale hands stretching across the keys and coaxing out a melody.
The memories I had poured out into the song, filling the song with the bittersweet taste of life. The sound rang out into the house, stirring the cobwebs and dust. I played for hours, until the sun moved into the windows and glared at me over the tops of the trees, threatening to throw itself under the horizon. The keys beneath my fingers retained a bit of the warmth I had shared as I played, and the strings inside the piano still hummed softly with the last strains of the my final song. Gently I drew the covering across the piano, like a mother would tuck in her child. Impudently I left the seat out, a little farther than it had originally been, for the sake of change mixed with the promise that I would return.
When I closed the garage door behind me, I breathed in the sticky air that draped over me like a hot blanket, so different from the stale air of the house. Smiling to myself, I walked back home. The sun was sinking below the horizon when I arrived home, where Charlie was cooking something on the stove. I entered the kitchen and began to cook with him, our quiet conversation joining in the bubble of the stew on the stovetop and the murmur of the television commentaries about the latest game. As I set the table and Charlie put the meal on the table, I smiled at my father and mentally thanked the Angel for the life that filled this house.
Awww, wasn't that a feel-good chapter? I felt that the story needed a little of a pick-me-up and a slight break from all the hectic changes in Bella's life. I hope you didn't mind this chapter (Yes, it was a bit fluffy, I know. But who can resist a demon-slaying/piano-playing/Jace references chapter?). The pictures of Bella's club outfit are on my profile under the small section about the Ink on Your Back pictures. I updated a little early because I tend to just update whenever I finish the chapter. It's within two days, right?
And now, to get to your awesome reviews!
Olivia The Bookworm: I'm glad you liked how she went through the Cullen house. :)
seriousobsession: Yes, it is a good thing indeed. I think Bella would lose her head if she couldn't be a Shadowhunter. There might be a fight scene or two in the next couple chapters, but I'm not too sure. It's really up to Bella :)
TheAFanFicWriter: To the first two questions, you'll have to wait the three chapters until this story wraps up. Jace will appear in the story, but not until the ending. Edward does come back, and Jacob is making a reappearance in the next chapter.
tamyyiia: Thank you! And yes, school is a pain at times. These schedules can get so crazy!
addicted-2-oxygen: Thank you! I'm glad you like it. Jace appears and Isabelle and Alec make a brief appearance at the end. There will be a sequel, however, where the three of them will be main characters throughout the story. Magnus will have his moments, because he's just that awesome. :)
Mrs. Carlisle Cullen 2007: Yes, Bella is becoming a Shadowhunter again, and she's very thrilled to be able to go back. :)
MPDinNYC126: Thank you! I'm following the plotline for New Moon very loosely, but I won't do the same ending. I'm not going to follow eclipse very closely in the next one, but I will keep the very basic plot structure of it. If Bella and Edward did get back together, their child would be very strange. I'm not too sure if Bella would survive giving birth, because as a Shadowhunter, she wouldn't be keen on being turned into a vampire. I think their child would probably be similar to what Stephanie Meyers wrote it as, but who knows? The child would probably be very talented at fighting, but it wouldn't be allowed in the Clave since it is half-Downworlder. Bella met Clary briefly before she was banished, but she mostly knows her as Jace's friend. Bella heard a little about Simon, but she never had the chance to fully meet him. She'd probably recognized Clary if she met her again, but she doesn't know Simon well enough to recognize him.
Magik Sause of Death: The pairing at the beginning was Bella/Edward. They broke up, though, so right now there really is no pairing. The sequel, however, will have a different pairing, and maybe even two pairings. But who knows? ;)
Thank you all for the reviews! I love hearing from you guys, and I would love to get more! I know there's more of you reading, so let's hear from you! 3
~Meneme-chan