A bit later than I thought but I couldn't stop writing.
Here's the next chapter!
Enjoy!
Chapter 13 - Who said ladies can't fight?
"You think you're up to it?" I ask Esme.
"Well we'll just have to find out, won't we?" she replies before seeing my worried expression and placing a delicate hand on my arm and giving me a smile so full of love. "I'm up to it," she says with sincerity. And how could this lovely woman ever do anything as awful as kill someone?
I beckon Alice and Edward who have been sat on a makeshift chair made out of a large root at the bottom of a huge oak tree. Edward has been calming Alice down. Edward offers his hand to Alice and pulls her from her seat.
"Everybody set?" I ask; a chorus of nods is the reply. I lead the way, head held high and walking with purpose past the guards who just stared at Esme and I as we strode through the big iron gates into York. I was bombarded with the sweet scent of blood, hearing every pulse pumping that glorious elixir of life around their bodies.
As a true predator I immediately came up with numerous plans to enable me to get what I wanted, and judging by Esme's change in stance she was thinking the same. But I looked around and seemed to hear who each victim would be missed by.
A scrawny man would leave behind three daughters, one son and his crippled wife to fend for themselves, a feat that would probably end in their death; the little part of my mind that would never give up carried on whispering that he wasn't even the size of an appetiser. A waste of my time.
Another man who the predator side of my mind was right now putting a shrine up to walked down the street, his red face aglow like a beacon of life himself and many jowls quivering as he strode down the street thought of the newborn son he would raise to pick up the family business.
But one man that stayed to the shadows and with a face of such intense innocence that anyone looking at him immediately became suspicious and checked their pockets, escaped my notice, overwhelmed as I was by more important matters as not blowing our cover and killing someone, until I heard Edward glowering at him. I looked up at Edward and asked him about it. I could see that this man would leave behind many girls, but whether they were daughters or a wife, I could not tell.
Edward saw my expression of puzzlement and nodded in the mans direction before whispering in my ear, "He is the one that takes girls… Tries them out in back alleys, ruins them… and then sells them to the whore-houses…"
"How can you tell?" I ask.
Edwards face is livid, and rightly so. "I just can… it's like he's bragging about it… can you not just hear him?" he says back to me, his mouth barely moving to form the words as he spits them out through clenched teeth.
I feel my stomach drop to my feet and hear blood pounding in my ears. It may be someone else's pulse but the effect is the same. I look at Edward, sorrow in my eyes and see that I may have to stop Edward harming the man instead of them stopping me. I don't think any of us would try too hard to save his life.
I tell Esme not to breathe and to think of Alice who is clutching onto Esme's hand like a lifeline, before forging our way through the crashing sea of people. People move aside at the sight of my pained face. Also if you act as if you have a right to be there, no one is going to argue with a woman holding a sharp looking parasol. (I picked it up from a cart we passed by). We walk down the aisle in silence, Alice being too scared to utter much and Edward radiating stress at the man before
Just as we reach the end of the street Esme puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me before nodding at Alice. She is about 10 feet behind us and slowly being consumed by the swell of people. She's staring at us and our clothes with a faraway look in her eye. We stare back for about 5 slow seconds before she looks at her own dress and seems to snap out of it and fighting the crowd to get to us.
"Why were we all wearing ball gowns just now?" she asks. We all look at each other before turning back to stare quizzically at her. "What?" she squirms under our gaze, awaiting our reply. None of us no where to begin but, as we all flounder for a suitable comment to say, I notice a poster tacked to a wall right behind our little psychic.
I push through the crowd to look at the advert that is tacked to the wall. The others group around me, peering over my shoulder to see the advert for the Masquerade Ball being held at the castle on the hill at midnight tomorrow night. As one, we look through the fog of the streets and see the lit windows far above us.
"Oh can we go!" Alice pleads from behind me and I look at Edward. He doesn't seem too opposed to the idea. "I've never been to a ball," she continues, swishing the mud-caked hems of her skirts. She looks at me – I seem to be the gang leader in her eyes, now – and opens her eyes wide in a puppy dog expression that I doubt anyone could refuse.
"We'll need new dresses," I say as Alice jumps up and down on the spot, startling some passers-by. A cough from behind me makes me add: "and a new suit for Edward." I take in the mud-caked hair that he's swept back and look at his outfit, ripped at the knees and with small snags where branches have caught him in the woods. He looks fine to me… Edward smirks as if he could tell what I was thinking. Strange.
"If you're up to it Esme…" Alice says thoughtfully before using her eyes to do the black-mailing once again. Esme also caves and we head over to get directions from one of the men slouched against the wall. Edward seems on edge. "What can they do to me?" I ask him. It doesn't help much.
"Don't worry Edward," Alice says, coming up in between him and me, "I have a feeling he's going to be really helpful. He'll probably just stare at Bella for a while, she'll do her impatient throat cough, the bloke next to him will absent-mindedly elbow him in the ribs – he'll be staring as well – and then the man you asked will remember where he is and will tell her to walk to the end of the road, turn left and then down the second alley and about half-way down there's a sign for it and just follow the signs from there." We all stop and stare at her, not least because it's the longest we've heard her speak; Edward and me, anyway. Nothing obviously gets in the way of her and a good party. "Or something like that," she mumbles, bashful about the attention and carries on to the man.
I get there before her and ask as politely as I can where the nearest tailor-shop is. He gawps at me. I meet Edwards eyes over Alice's head as she bops up and down with barely reined in excitement. I clear my throat impatiently and the man next to him, the dog-end in his open mouth balancing precariously on his bottom lip, nudges him roughly with his elbow. The man doesn't seem to notice his elbows independence, his eyes staying firmly glued to Esme. I stand up straighter and the man to whom I had directed my question gives a start and finally starts breathing again.
"Er… end of the road, love, turn left. Second alley on't right. 'bout halfway down there's a sign for it. Follow them signs and you can't miss it, Miss…" he stammers out, leaning forward and salivating slightly.
"Thank you, you've been most helpful," Edward says, nodding his head tersely as a kind of bow before grabbing mine and Alice's arms. I allow him to tow me to the end of the road. Esme follows next to me and with a nod in Edwards's direction I roll my eyes. Esme covers her mouth with her hand, muffling the giggle that escapes. I am not the only one who is being stared at.
At the end of the road Alice turns round and twists out of Edwards grip with a twirl. "Well," she says, dusting her hands together, "I told you so! They were looking at you two like pieces of meat." Edward glares at her. "Only saying what I saw! Isn't it freaky?" she asks, eyes bright. I take her hand in mine and we skip down the road.
"Indeed you did, Alice," I say as we set off down the second alley. "Can you often tell what's going to happen?" I ask.
"Actually, now I come to think of it, yes! Although I've never seen anything like the dresses before, or heard what someone would say… Just a feeling of how something is going to turn out…" she says as we see the first sign halfway down the road. I check to see that the other two aren't too far behind. "You think I am crazy now, right?" she asks, head down and with a melancholy voice.
"Alice. I am a vampire. You are most definitely not crazy, my dear." She cracks a smile at the idea that she is not crazy.
"I've got a feeling about that as well," she says, almost nervously.
"Oh yeah?" I am intrigued and almost sure of what she's going to say next.
"I just know that I am going to spend an eternity with Jasper, like you will with Edward," she says it matter-of-factly and I contemplate her words. But why would Alice and Jasper become like Esme and I? Maybe one of us loses control. But that can't be. We cannot let it happen. But she doesn't seem scared of the idea. Quite the opposite, she seems to be looking forward to when she can spend forever with Jasper. The idea seems familiar.
I wonder about how it could possibly come about as we walk through the market, a cacophony of animal grunts as animals run around the square, squealing and slipping as they run across the floor. The smell, although unpleasant, sluggishly covers any smell leaving my head gloriously clear as Alice and I pick our way in the direction the sign pointed us. Through the steam caused by the warm animal's excrement meeting the cold air, I can see the shop. Alice claps her hands in glee.
I look over at Edward and Esme deep in conversation and call to them; Esme looks up and I indicate the shop. She nods and smiles as I turn back and chuckle at Edwards bemused face. He obviously hadn't heard me.
I step into the shop after Alice and give the man behind the counter a glimpse of the amount of money I could afford to spend. His eyes nearly dropped out of his skull as I wink at Alice. I've been nicking money out of people's pockets. I feel bad but they wouldn't have even a concept of money if it weren't for me. That sounded harsher than I meant it.
"My dear little Alice is to have everything she desires," I tell the man, who rolls up his shirt sleeves, takes the tape measure from in front of him and putting it round his neck and pushing his wire-rimmed spectacles further up on his nose. Even the blonde hair on his head stands to attention as he goes from looks at Alice, the woman who shall be buying the material and possibly giving him his annual income in just one week. He could probably retire after our shopping trip.
As Alice peers at the racks of satins and silks, feeling each texture and testing the quality I go up to the man. "Are you skilled with a needle and thread?" I ask him. He takes a step back placing a hand over his heart in an exaggerated gesture of shock.
"You insult me, madam!" he says, a smile on his lips. "I am the fastest and with the best quality in the whole of York!" I smile back at him before standing up and twirling around in my dress. "Very nice," he comments, "where did you get that made?" he asks. I point to Alice.
"She is an apprentice. Her and her mistress made it overnight and still had time to make the hat," I say, flicking the brim of the hat. The man tries his best not to let his mouth drop open. I am about to ask if he has any spare needles or thread and maybe Alice and Esme could help make the dresses when Alice walks up to me.
"They're in trouble," she whispers before correcting herself, "or they will be." I look at her worried face and see that this is the real deal. Just as I am about to enquire further, like how were they in trouble, I hear Edwards voice over the sound of the market. I excuse myself from the shop.
"I'll just be one moment," I say, walking through the door before running back into the market place. Edward is holding onto Esme who has stopped breathing. A lifeless sheep at her feet. Damn.
Sensing a good piece of street theatre the people of York have crowded round to see what all the fuss is about as I fight through the crowds of people. I break into the circle and I see the anguish in Esme's eyes. I pick her up and put one of her arms around my neck.
"Edward," I whisper, "get her other arm. It'll be suspicious if I carry a woman the same size as me." I hiss as I turn to the growing audience. "Sorry!" I call out, "my friend has been ill recently and the herbs have reacted with her, I am afraid!" I say, hoping they'll buy my story as I have no idea what could cause such a thing. I don't give them time to doubt it before plunging into the crowd.
"Esme?" I whisper so quiet that only she could hear it. She groans just as quietly. "Esme, keep your head on my shoulder." She lets her head swing to the side and the people nearest take a step back. With her white skin and bruised eyes she looks a fate worse than death. You have to laugh at how fitting that phrase is right now. At the edge of the market, I flick some coins at the owner of a coup of chickens before picking a few of the birds up. He is too stunned to say anything except stare at the money in his hands. I pull Esme into the alley but tell Edward to go into the tailors. I give a bird to Esme and keep one for myself. I give the last one to Esme as well.
"Sorry," she mutters. "I don't know. I think a sheep-dog bit it and I just went crazy. I'm sorry." She drops her head in shame.
"Don't worry about it, okay?" I tell her and give her a hug. "Thank goodness it wasn't a person! I think they wouldn't have bought the 'my friend is ill' thing if it had been a person." I say with a laugh. "Not that it would have made much difference… but don't be afraid to hunt when you need to, okay?" I say, she nods and I wrap my arms around. She squeezes her own arms around me and squeezes tightly enough that I can feel it. I haven't properly felt anyone in such a long time.
"Come on, they'll be wondering where we are," she says after a while, turning into a mother, turning into the Esme I remember. We set off.
**
"How do you do this!" Edward exclaims as he drops his thimble again and rubs his eyes. The man – who's name we now know is Carlisle (a blast from the past, I can tell you) – looks up from his stitching, as do Esme, Alice and I. It is dark outside but we have plenty of candles and a roaring fire illuminating our work as we each sew as quickly as we can. Edward is not faring well. Alice laughs, slipping her thimble on the table and folding her material on her knee before placing it on the table. Esme and I insisted on the thimbles, not daring to risk any more catastrophes.
"Let's go get something to eat," Alice says.
"I know somewhere that does nice food," Carlisle said before taking in us girls in our frocks, now slightly cleaner due to the scrub we gave them earlier. "Or maybe I could get something in…"
"No!" Alice shouts. We all look at her. We seem to do that a lot. "I just mean I think we need to get out. You know, we've spent all afternoon in here. Let's have a change of scenery. And we can take anything they throw at us, right you two?" Esme and I agree and Carlisle nods his head; Edward looks relieved and gets up and stretches his arms above his head (letting me see how long they are and how tall he is and all his muscles and yummy!).
"Let's go then!" Esme calls, probably wanting to get out of the stuffy room. I have to agree with her.
The cool air streams past my face, carrying a variety of smells as Carlisle leads the way.
Esme and I order a pint of their strongest ale to mask the sweet scent of so many bodies as Alice, Edward and Carlisle peruse what's on offer. It seems to be a pot of brown mush with some barely identifiable bits of, for want of a better word, what you could possibly call meat. You'd have to close your eyes and forget what was going into your mouth to get the stuff past the gag reflex.
But Alice seems fine as she glides to our table in the back corner, a steaming bowl with a spoon in it in her hands. Carlisle keeps looking at Esme (he kept sneaking glances at her while we were sewing, as well. I think there may be something more going on between them, on his side at least) and Edward is staring at his bowl out of the corner of his eye as if it is going to grow feelers and escape out of the door. It wouldn't surprise me, really.
I stare as each mouthful disappears and Esme's nose is crinkled at the smell of the drink in front of her. It smells of piss, quite frankly. But the other three take huge gulps of the stuff. Amazing what people will do for nutrition. Although how you get any nutrients for something that has been stewing for so long I don't know. At least in their efforts to get rid of the stuff in front of them as quickly as possible, they are finished in a matter of minutes. We get up to leave and I pay for the food.
"No, you didn't even have anything. I can't let you pay!" Carlisle protests.
"Consider it in return for all the help you've given us," is my reply before pushing his hand away and handing the money over. "Keep the change." The man takes his hat off and takes it on a complicated twirl and under his arm as he stoops into a bow. I don't know what to say to that…
But I don't have to as Edward has just punched a man..
"Edward! What are you doing," I say as the man he punched clutches his bleeding nose and Edward massages his grazed knuckles. I stuff someone else's pint under Esme's nose before she takes off. I put my arm around her shoulders tightly.
"What was dat for you bastard?" the man shouts through his rapidly swelling lips. Alice covers her ears.
"Give me my pint back!" the man next to me shouts. He tries to take it off me but, not expecting such resistance, his hand slips and he falls into someone else. A howl of outrage is sent by the man he fell into as he punches the man who tried to take the mug from me. I look back to Edward and sigh before grabbing Alice's attention.
"Come on!" I shout, "Let's get out of here!"
I drag the three of us out the door; sit Esme in the street with the stinking ale in front of her before heading back in.
All hell has broken loose as, like a set of dominoes, the great mind of men thought simultaneously: 'you lookin' at me?' as each accidentally was knocked into the other by a misdirected punch. No answer is allowed, just a punch to the face and, usually, you were unconscious for the rest of the night. I fought through the mass of raining limbs and sharp fists until I saw Edward hanging onto the collar of the man he had punched to start it all, lifting him off the floor and shaking him, with rage in his eyes.
"Edward… Put. Him. Down," I say slowly, trying to get through the red haze of his anger. He looks at me but slams the man against the wall. "Edward!" I shout.
"Yeah, Eddie do as the lady tells-"
"Shut up," I cut off the mans sarcastic sentence. I make Edward let go and let the man drop to the floor.
"Nice one, lady," he says, still goading, his eyes streaming from the nose that looks broken. That crimson liquid… dripping down… let me lick it off… one taste couldn't hurt…
"Hey Eddie! At least I don't need a woman to fight my battles!"
He goes down silently with more than just his nose broken as I lash out.
Yey Bella! And I liked writing this chapter! A thing I haven't done for a while with this story...
Review and tell me if you think this story is on the mend and how I could make it better
Thanks
A
