My note for this chapter; I love Lynyrd Lionheart. Great, isn't she? You should read her stories, Moonlight Sonata and the sequel, Shadow Rising. Her one-shots are very well written as well.
On another note, I got a review that said I focused a little too much on other characters. Well, that's kind of just how I write. I'm not going to focus on just Edward and Bella. This may be a love story, but there are more than two characters in it. I like to round my characters well, know them. Sorry if you feel this way, I really am.
This chapter is a filler. Sorry for that too.
Oh, and I don't usually do this, because I don't want to tell you what to do, but I think you might want to listen to these songs during this chapter.
Sugarcult; Do It Alone.
Used; All That I've Got and Cut Up Angels (which doesn't really apply. It's just a good song.)
-
A Rogue Omega
9
.iota.
Bella awoke from a shallow sleep, her eyes snapping open with an intensity that almost blinded her. It was so dark in the room they had placed her in that she couldn't see her own hand before her face—but she could feel the other presence besides her own.
"Hello?" she whispered tentatively, almost as if testing the word on her tongue.
"Hello Isabella."
Her eyes slid shut again, and she cringed. She and Rue had only ever come in contact once, and it hadn't been pleasant at all.
"Hi," she mumbled, drawing the silken covers to her chest. A light flicked on, and again Bella felt almost sightless. She blinked furiously, watching Rue move toward her as her vision cleared.
"Did I startle you?" the blond drawled, surveying Bella through hooded eyes. Her voice was bored, and Bella got the funny feeling that if she had been startled—Rue couldn't really care less.
"No," the other responded stonily, her gaze floating around the room. There was an old wind up clock stuck to the wall above the door. It read nine a.m.
"Well get up then," Rue ordered, already starting for the door, "I've been… told to show you the kitchen."
Bella didn't answer, but pursed her lips and shakily rose from the bed. Her room was completely old-fashioned, which she expected from the antique castle. An ebony dresser took up most of one white-washed wall. Two large, silky curtains draped over the large patio-window and a chair was placed on the opposite wall. The bed she had slept in was extremely exuberant and covered in white silk sheets.
There was a black sweater on the chair by her bedside, and she slipped it carelessly over the clothes she had been wearing for nearly three days.
Rue was already ahead of her down the hallway, looking impatient as she examined her manicured fingernails, her eyes glinting crimson in the dim light of the corridors. Bella stuck her hands into the pockets, stopping about a yard away from Rue, signaling for her to proceed.
The blond flashed a dangerous smile, turning down another hallway. There were at least five hallways after that, and two sets of stairs. Finally, they reached the grand staircase in the foyer and Bella could hear loud voices coming from the base of them.
Kale and Declan were arguing over something, but their conversation was strung together—too fast for her ears to comprehend. Kale and she hadn't spoken since his outburst, and Bella was in no mood to converse with him again. She judged her compliant behavior on her delusions, thinking that she was only nice to him because she was lonely, and he was the most decent vampire in the castle.
"Come, on," Rue groaned from the first floor. Her hand was grasping a swinging door that led to the smell of bacon. Bella clenched her jaw, feeling a soft sense of dread fill her. What were they doing, keeping her here like this? Weren't they going to go through with the transformation, or was she merely a barter item for the Cullens? Was it not her they truly wanted, but them?
A shudder passed through her as she brushed past Rue in the doorway, keeping her eyes averted so that they wouldn't connect with Kale's. The two males had stopped fighting as soon her bare feet made the stair creak.
He watched her back for a moment, before turning back to Declan, jumping almost immediately back into his argument.
The kitchen was large and magnificent, its ancient stoves and such creating a home-like atmosphere. But Bella had already decided that she would never feel at home—not here.
An older woman was huddled over one of the old burners, the clanking of pans reaching Bella's ears. Rue left, after one of her trademark smirks, and good words of wisdom.
"Hansel and Gretel," she had sung, "don't eat too much, love."
Her back had gone stiff, but Bella remained stoically silent.
The old woman also seemed more docile once Rue had left, and she turned to face her new companion. Bella gasped, the gray-haired cook had watery blue eyes, which could only mean…
"You're human," she whispered, her fingers unconsciously crawling to her throat.
The chef chuckled, "Oui," she answered, "as are you, non?"
Her thick, French accent muddled her words, but Bella understood well enough, "Yes."
"Then we are both très malheureux, ma chère." At Bella's puzzled look, the chef sighed, "It means unfortunate."
"Oh," she blushed, looking down at the plate she had set before her, "what's your name?"
"Call me Lena," she said with a smile, "and you are Isabella, oui?"
"Bella, please."
The older woman's eyes crinkled as she smiled, "Bella."
--
Katrina had never been very patient, and still was not one to just sit around and wait for things. She resembled Edward in that way, both inhumanly stubborn and inconceivably eager.
"I say we just go," she moaned for the third time, shifting a little on the Cullen's furniture. Edward looked over at her—smiling half-heartedly—and then back at the computer screen. The two families were going on different flights—the Denali coven was only for backup.
The bronze- haired vampire hadn't really smiled in days, and his eyes were loosing their mischievous glint. Alice watched him closely, wincing as he read the visions in her mind.
"Edward," she whispered now, "a word?" her eyes flickered over to their guests, and then back at him, "in private please?"
His brow furrowed, and he slowly tore his gaze from the screen, "Sure."
They walked to Carlisle's study, and shut the door behind them, Alice leaning on it for some faux support.
"I'm worried about you," she hummed, "I'm worried about what will happen if we don't make--."
"We will," Edward said sternly, "we will make it in time, Alice. They haven't decided anything yet, and they won't. Not until we get there."
"Edward," she hissed furiously, "I need to know you won't sacrifice yourself again. Please. Before we go running off into this… this mess, I need to know that if we come back alive—you will too."
He glared at her strongly, and there was silence for minutes. Edward's mind was in a state of pure upheaval. Bella had practically slipped between his fingers, like water running over rocks in a stream. If only he had paid more attention, if only he had listened a bit harder, if only he had heeded Alice's warnings. If only…
Now, his sister presented him with an ultimatum he wasn't sure he wanted to comply with. Bella had begged and pleaded for his life, once upon a time—even if hers was to be wasted. His eyes closed as he heard the murmur of her sweet voice inside his head. 'Think of your family'. For her, he could do that.
"If," he growled, "anything happens, I… promise I'll come back with you," Alice smiled while he continued, his voice harsher than it had been moments before, "but nothing will ever be the same, Alice. Don't expect anything more than an empty shell."
"I do expect more from you!" she cried, her face scrunching up with the tenor of her voice. Her tiny hands clenched in solid fists, and her eyes narrowed.
"You shouldn't," he muttered quietly, "just like I would expect no more of you, were the situation put to rest on your shoulders."
She growled low in her throat, and Edward steeled himself for another one of her tirades. Alice had never been the confrontational type; that was Rosalie. But as of late, she was becoming more comfortable in her own skin—not afraid to speak her mind to him. Silently or otherwise.
"I would be strong for my family," she whispered furiously at him, "I would think of them before putting my own selfish tendencies first. If something were to happen to Jasper, I wouldn't make the world suffer for my loss."
He barked out a humorless laugh and brushed past her, his hands lingering on the doorknob, "I'm not you, Alice."
--
Almost immediately after Bella had taken the last bite of her bacon, Rue was at the doorway, fixing her with another of her steely glares. She chewed on her cheek, something Bella had noticed her mother do a lot of times if she were nervous or preoccupied.
"Hurry up!" she finally snapped, turning tail and flouncing back out the doorway, "you smell horrid."
Lena had turned to stone as soon as Rue had entered the kitchen, and Bella twisted just in time to see the aging cook make her way through the door on the opposite side of the room. She sighed tiredly, rising from her stool and walking back into the foyer.
Rue glanced at her fleetingly before beginning her walk up the stairs. She sighed exaggeratedly, about six or seven times on the way up. Each time, Bella would make it a point to decrease her swiftness.
When they reached the room again, Rue continued on to the door Bella had thought a closet. The old ebony entry lead to a gigantic bathroom, an antique basin-like tub in the center of it.
Rue smirked, "There's no showers," she cooed mockingly, "there's water in there already. Just pull the drain plug when you're done."
Bella didn't even have time to blink before Rue was out of sight.
--
The bath water was warm and welcoming, but Bella couldn't shake the strange feeling of a presence, like what she had sensed with Rue this morning. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and all along her arms that rested on the edges of the tub. A chill went through the water, and her back stiffened beyond her control.
Feather light, hands touched down upon her shoulders, a soft breath disturbing the hair that rested by her ear. She gasped quietly at the frigid contact; her heartbeat now ebbed into chaos.
"You're playing a dangerous game," she recognized Kale's voice and shuddered, breathing out a slow sight of relief. At least it wasn't one of the mysterious brothers she had heard so much about.
"I thought you said that cat and mouse was out of the picture?" she murmured back, not daring to turn around. One wrong move, one sudden jolt, and her life could end. She didn't know how strongly she appealed to him or how resistant was his resolve.
"That isn't the game I meant," he said and she felt the movement of his head turning in the direction of the door. Was he waiting for something, or was he hiding?
"What did you mean then?" she crooned, her eyes flashing quickly to the profile of his face—and then dead ahead once again.
"This morning," he began in a low, humming voice, "you acted as though I never existed. I don't do well with rejection, and I won't lie to you; you appeal to me Bella, a great deal."
"That's unfortunate," she whispered, hoping that her comment wasn't too audacious.
There was complete silence for a moment before he responded, "Isn't it…" he droned, his hands sliding down her shoulders to her arms. She could clearly see his hands now, stark white like the ceramic tub beneath her.
"Kale," she breathed, "please."
"Bella," he said, his whisper now of a harsher variety, "you insult me. I would never take advantage."
She highly doubted his last statement for some reason. Where was the child-like Kale she had gotten to know in the garden? Or when he had so violently shaken her, was that an epiphany of sorts? Was he becoming more like his kin?
Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed, "What do you want?"
"To speak, nothing more," he vowed.
"…okay."
"Rue is plotting against you, Isabella," he murmured, his cold breath blowing harder into her ear, "plotting against me as well, I suspect. I don't know how much longer I can protect you, how much longer I can keep you from her insatiable grasp. I'm here to give you some advice; whatever Rue proposes to you, take the first option. It will be the best for you and yours."
"And if her first option is death?"
"Take it. True death, she won't propose. You're too valuable to us all."
Bella huffed, her eyes flashing open, "How can she expect me to stay here after I change? Certainly she hasn't thought this all out."
"She believes… anyone can be molded." Like I was fool enough to be.
"And the other two, what about their stance on this? Or do they go along with whatever she says?"
"Declan is loyal to Rue—always. Avery is devoted to power and power alone. He sees it, he knows it, so be wary that his bonds with his brother are not as strong as they seem. He could be persuaded to see otherwise, but I'm not sure of that quite yet."
Kale's eyes flittered over to the doorway again, and he clenched his jaw at the sound of approaching footsteps.
"I'll leave you now."
Bell turned her head slightly, "We're not done."
"I'll find you later Bella," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her cheek. With a phantom chuckle, they ghosted across her ear, "alright?"
She was only able to nod before he disappeared.
Rue burst through the door seconds later, her eyes darting about the large bathroom. They landed on Bella, the crimson of her irises turning steadily darker as she sneered. From behind her, she produced a shopping bag, the name Bruno Magli tattooed across the front in swirling pink letters.
"Clothes," was all she said, the furious slam of the door signifying her departure. Bella stared at the bag, giving a great sigh and rising from the bath water. She wrapped a towel around herself, pulling from the shopping bag a thin black blouse. It wrapped tightly around her small frame, and she glared down at the constricting material. It wound around her neck in a large, exuberant bow, its tendrils flowing down her exposed back. The jeans were even worse—designer and uncomfortable.
Okay, she thought, as she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror back in her room, now to find Kale.
Her steps were almost inaudible as she crept down the corridors of the old castle, but she felt as if every stride was like the pounding footsteps of a thousand elephants. Bella wasn't sure if Rue was meant to be her keeper for the rest of the day, or if she was allowed to dote about on her own. Either way, she needed to find Kale.
Only, I have no idea where to start, she pondered bitterly, turning another corner. A strong force knocked into her, and she stumbled backwards, catching her balance on an ejected stone in the wall. Her eyes gradually traveled upwards, meeting with a pair of brilliant burgundy orbs.
"Oh," she breathed quietly, "I guess I don't have to look for you then."
--
Edward sighed as they took off from O'Hare, the plane rising into the sky with an accumulation of speed. The city shrunk away beneath them, and he closed the shade on his window, settling farther into the chair and closing his eyes. To any one who did not know his true nature, he would resemble a man asleep.
However, even if he had been human, Edward's mind was in such a state of tumult, it would be too difficult to even think on slumber. Bella's face kept flashing in his mind, both in the way he had last seen her, and the way she had been portrayed in some visions of Alice.
Her eyes were crimson in those chimeras, her face strong and ferocious. Those lips of hers would curve into the most alluring smile, and her eyes would glitter with something he had not seen from her before; thirst.
In the visions, it seemed as though the desire consumed her, swallowing her whole without hope of amnesty. It sent a shudder through him—he had never dreamed they would come to such an ultimatum so quickly, so beyond their control.
I'll save her, his mind whispered softly.
A hand touched down upon his, and Edward opened his eyes slowly, turning his head to the side. Esme smiled warmly at him, her fingers gently curling around his.
Please, her thoughts were accompanied with another smile, don't look that way.
He sighed tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "How should I look?" he asked quietly.
Like you have hope.
--
Bella eyes focused once more on Kale and then back down at the glass in her hand. Her lips were pursed, a thoughtful expression strewn across her face.
Kale watched her silently, a look of simple awe in his eyes as he marveled at the way she brought the cup to and from her sweet lips. He hadn't been in the company of anyone living, who actually needed other sustenance to survive other than blood, in centuries.
As they sat in an awkward silence, Bella rehearsed what she wanted to say to him. Being nice and pleasant was getting her no where fast. It was time for a different course of action; whether she lived or died during its execution wasn't important.
What she did need to know was if the Cullens—if Edward—were okay, or had they been massacred the same night of her kidnapping? Kale had never come right out and said they were alive, or well, or any of that. She felt as if he were subtly avoiding the topic of her fiancé altogether.
Closing her eyes, Bella wished to hear Alice's laugh or to feel Edward's soft, stony lips pressed to hers in a kiss full of infatuation. She missed the feeling of loving him, being able to know she was safe, she was cared for, when she was with him. All she wanted was her life back. Hell, she'd give her entire life savings just to have Emmett tease her once more, or be glared at by Rosalie.
Bella couldn't even dwell on the fact that she may never see them again. Or that she might be powerless when the time came that they needed help for a change. Just the thought cut through her heart like a dagger of ice. The hole was returning.
The sudden reality of her situation settled upon her, as if someone had deserted her in the middle of the ocean—cement blocks stuck to her feet.
This, this whole unimaginable problem was real. It was all much too real, and she was drowning in it.
"Bella…?"
She snapped her head up, eyes glistening with tears.
"Are you alright?" Kale asked softly, standing from his chair.
She let out a high pitched, bitter sort of laugh, "Am I alright?" she whispered angrily, her voice full of well-concealed spite, "would you be?"
Kale raised his eyebrows, his arms coming to cross over his chest, "So I see you've disregarded your kindness…"
"I was stupid," she muttered, rolling her eyes at her own idiocy, "to ever think you'd help me get away from here."
He laughed, a loud, throaty chuckle, "I apologize if I gave you that idea. I may be kind, Bella, but I'm no fool. Don't you realize your potential?"
She shook her head, furious tears escaping their hold, "I don't care about potential!"
He looked away from her, his face stoic, as unreadable as an empty page, "You should."
Her fingers gripped the edges of her chair, knuckles turning white with the strain, "What is it that you really want? There's more to this than just my hypothetical power."
He sighed, rubbing angrily at his forehead, "You're right Bella." In truth, it was so much more than just her power. He could care less about her damn potential, her efficacy. Kale wanted her, all of her. Perhaps it was jealousy that made him feel this way, perhaps it was lust, but he wanted to be in love, he wanted to feel for Bella what she felt for Edward—but he just couldn't. Not yet anyway.
"I don't know what I feel for you Bella," he confessed, "but you are… you are unexplainable. You interest me in a way no one ever has before."
"No," she whispered.
"Yes," he growled, "you belong to me now, Bella.
"No, Kale," she hissed venomously, malice dripping along with the tears cascading down her cheeks, "I belong to Edward."
"That ridiculous excuse for a vampire? Bella…" he laughed, "you deserve much better. Why can't you see that I'm the only one who will protect you? I'm the only one you have on your side now."
She closed her eyes, dropping her chin onto her chest, "I'm not a prize, Kale." Her voice was scratchy—rough with the effort she used not to cry, "I'm so sick of these games. When it all comes down to it, you're the predator, and I'm the prey. You can act as if you're on my side all you want, but I will never trust you, and I sure as hell won't love you."
Something snapped. It was practically audible, the shift in Kale's mood from docile to violent. He was before Bella in two, long strides, her shoulders like putty between his fingers. His growl filled the room with a terrifying roar, his eyes melting into an enraged onyx.
"Don't love me then," he spat, "and when the time comes that you need me Bella, because I can assure you will need me, don't beg for my charity. Whether you like it or not, I'll have you."
His hand was strong and hard as they wrapped around the back of her head. She stared up at him, hardly veiled fear in her wide eyes. His rough fingers stroked from her temple to her jaw, and he inhaled deeply at her hairline, "You are nothing more than a prize."
Kale's proximity made her slightly dizzy, the fragrance dripping from every pore of him muddling her already tousled mind. When he left, she barely noticed, as his scent still lingered in the air.
She'd lost again. No matter how many tactics she tried, she'd always lose against him. Because, whether she was sick of it or not, this was all a game to him. To them.
A simple game of life or death.
--
And I'll keep on making more These hands stained red
Just to prove that I adore
Every inch of sanity
All I'm asking for is, all I'm asking for is
--
Yeah, definitely a short filler. But an important one, I think. I mean, I made you feel all bad for Kale with the interlude and now, here he is, being a bastard. Well, he's complicated. Most people have three dimensions… Kale has like seven or eight. Like Bella does, in my opinion.
Almost the end of this one, folks. Then it's on to A Delphian Utopia… which I've just finished writing the prologue and first chapter for. It gives nothing away, like I made the mistake of doing in this one. I'm on my toes waiting for this story to end lol, so I can start posting the next one. Yay! Are you guys as excited as I am?