A/N: Song for this chapter is "Frozen," by Within Temptation. And "Cold Water", by Damien Rice.
I've had scenes from this chapter in my head since last May. I remember it being 3 in the morning, desperately wanting to turn on the light and start writing, but not being able to because I didn't want to wake my college roomate. Absolute torture.
Over the last couple days I've been re-writing and editiong crazily. It's a very special chapter, so I really wanted to get it right. I hope you like it as much as I do.
My aunt's soft voice drifted up the stairs through my open bedroom door, gently pulling me from what had been a very restless night's sleep. Usually this was a homey, comforting sound, part of a very long tradition and as familiar to me as my own mother's voice. This morning however, Emily was all but drowned out by the relentless pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof above me. Groggily, I cracked my open my eyes to peer at the clock on the table beside me, blinking against the bright greenish light that filtered through my window. It was only half past eight.
I groaned, twisting in the bed to bury my head underneath a pillow. I just wanted to sleep! Just wanted to lose myself in unconsciousness for a few more hours and forget the craziness that had taken hold. But the change in my position brought no relief—if anything I felt worse. The blankets bunched around my body, trapping me, and the jeans I'd fallen asleep in pinched my skin uncomfortably. I groaned again and kicked quilt off me, knowing I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again.
Had it really been only yesterday that I'd woken up so innocently excited about spending the day with Quil? It seemed like ages ago.
After a quick shower, I changed into my favorite pair of flannel pajama pants and still groggy, made my way downstairs, almost tripping over one of my cousins who sat hugging a teddy bear on the stair. I ruffled his hair and continued downward. Emily was standing over the stove, cooking eggs. Sam was on the phone, his low voice oddly entreating. I wondered who he was talking to.
Sitting down at the table, I pulled my knees up against my chest, as a plate of food was set down in front of me. I stared at it blankly, not at all hungry. Emily put a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly.
"Where's Quil?" I asked, looking up from the food.
"He's out patrolling," my uncle said with a sigh, placing the phone back in its charger and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I'm just about to join him."
"You need to rest—" Emily complained.
"Not until I know more," he interrupted. They shared a long look before he stood and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to brush his lips across the bare skin of her neck. I turned away as he murmured soothingly into her ear.
It was going to be a long day.
Everyone seemed to congregate at my aunt and uncle's house. Members of the pack, their wives and children, Sue Clearwater and even Billy Black. They came and went all morning long until every room was crowded and noisy, and a step couldn't be taken without tripping over a little kid. I wanted to hide up in my room, but there were chores to be done, people to talk to, my little cousins and their friends to keep from trashing the house...
I knew I didn't really want to hide though. Mostly I just wanted Quil.
The day seemed to drag on endlessly without him. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun managed to fight its way through the thick overhead clouds, but it was a weak sort of light that fell on us. There was no warmth to it. Every time the door opened, my head reflexively snapped in that direction—only to have my heart fall when I saw it wasn't him. It was never him.
After a quick makeshift dinner Emily walked up to me, holding the phone. "Claire, you need to talk to your mom. She's expecting you back right after dinner."
"Oh no!" I moaned, rubbing my eyes. Guiltily I realized that I'd forgotten her. "Someone needs to tell her to be careful and to stay inside— god she's never going to believe any of this!"
Emily was looking at me funny. "You want to stay here in La Push then?"
"Of course I want to stay," I frowned, before disregarding her odd question completely. "What am I supposed to tell her?"
Emily nodded sympathetically and began dialing. "Let me talk to her first."
I waited tensely while Emily gave my mom a brief synopsis; even from 4 feet away I could hear my mother's voice grow frantically high pitched as my aunt tried to explain. I felt the ice in my own stomach spread when I heard the matter-of-fact way Emily spoke of what was happening.
At last, my aunt handed the phone to me. "She wants to talk to you."
I took it gingerly, almost expecting it to burst on fire second the second it touched my ear. I knew for certain that this would not be the easiest conversation I'd ever had.
"Claire!" my mother's shrilly voice cried into the telephone. "What on earth is going on?" I rubbed my eyes and glanced at Emily. She gave me a small encouraging smile. "I want you home right now!" she demanded.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "I'm sorry mom, but…no."
I could almost hear her mouth drop open in shock. "No?" she repeated. "Claire, come on, come home. I don't want you all by yourself in La Push."
"I'm not alone. Sam and Emily are here, and Quil—"
"Is that why you want to stay? Because of Quil?"
No way did she want to hear the answer to that one. I ignored her question. "Aren't you forgetting something—this is the safest place I can be right now. Do you think Sam or Emily, or Quil—or anyone else for that matter—is going to let anything happen to me?" She was silent.
I took a deep breath to prepare myself to say the words that would hurt her more than the rest. "Mom, this is where I belong."
She exhaled. "This is about him." Her voice turned pleading. "You're only seventeen Claire. You have no idea what it's like… You're so young…" she trailed.
"I'm old enough to know what matters," I said quietly. "You and Dad can come here if you want, it might be safer, but I'm not leaving."
"You have school tomorrow," was her last ditch effort.
"Will you call them for me?"
"You really want me to give you permission to stay there and face god knows what? I'm your mother Claire—and I want you home!"
"I'm not asking for permission," I said softly.
She sucked in her breath. "Fine. If that's the way you want it then."
And then she hung up on me.
I knew that as far as teenage rebellions went, mine was fairly tame. Colleen had gotten into all sorts of trouble when she was my age. Still my… rejection—which was the only word that seemed to fit—would hurt my mother far more than Colleen's crazy escapades. In her eyes I'd chosen sides, declared my allegiance, picked Quil over her. And what made it even worse was the fact that this wasn't some high school fling. I'd never go crying back to her when it ended, because it never would end. Was she ready for that?
I sighed and turned the phone off, letting my head fall into my hands. I suddenly had a throbbing headache. It felt like my head was going to crack in two. From the living room came an ear-splitting squeal followed by a loud crash, and a chorus of apologies. I rolled my eyes. What had those kids wrecked now?
There was no peace here, no space to think. "I have to get out of this house now!" I moaned.
xXx
The waves crashed angrily against the rocky shore. It was twilight; the sun was just beginning to set behind the thickly overcast sky. For the first time it was peaceful, quiet— I breathed in deeply, and felt my headache start to fade.
Aunt Emily had been torn about letting me go down to the beach for a quick walk. I could see the struggle play across her face, her sympathy for me, against her orders from Sam. She knew, probably better than anyone, how the day inside around so many people had left me feeling stifled, especially after that terrible conversation with my mother.
"I promise I'll be careful," I pleaded. "Just one quick walk; I'll be back before anyone has time to miss me.
Emily's smile was worried, but at last, she nodded. "Just don't go too far, ok?"
A huge grin broke across my face as I half ran down to First Beach. The cool, salty air felt divine against my skin.
I knew that Emily probably wouldn't want me to go too far, but my feet weren't listening to my head at the moment. They carried me further down the beach than I'd intended, to a low dry piece of driftwood. The gentle curve of the cliffs behind me shielded me from sight, and I was glad for that. No one had ever really understood why I needed to be alone sometimes. I didn't quite understand myself; I only knew that when the thoughts in my head became too complicated, too muddled, I needed solitude to put all the pieces straight.
The wind blew across my face lightly, teasing the loose strands of my hair. I lifted my face to the breeze and watched the sun as it sunk down over the horizon. My sleepless night was catching up with me, as my eyes unwittingly started to close. I lingered there, walking that fine line between wakefulness and sleep when a sound woke me from my daze.
I looked up, but there was nothing, not even a shadow. Nonetheless I felt unnerved, almost like there was something watching me. The sun had disappeared completely, the only light coming from a sliver of moonlight, and the darkness felt suddenly stark and claustrophobic.
I forced my voice to work, but it sounded uneasy, even to me. "Is anyone there?" I asked, unsure why I bothered. Of course I was alone… but there was still that strange feeling… I peered deeper into the darkness, but could see nothing.
I stood up hastily; I had lingered too long on the beach. Emily would be worried about me by now, and that wasn't fair to her after she'd been so good to me. I started walking away as quickly as I could.
But a voice, smooth and velvet called me back.
"Going somewhere?" It asked. I spun around, almost tripping on piece of driftwood. My eyes strained against the darkness, but I couldn't see anything. Still, I heard the almost inaudible catlike footsteps walking towards me. He stopped 10 feet away in a patch of moonlight. My breath left me in a ragged, torn gasp.
He was medium height, and in the light he looked like he was carved from marble—pale, deathly pale and unnaturally beautiful. Frantically I tried to match his features to one of the Cullen men that I had seen the night before. But this vampire was raven haired and slight compared to the others. Still, I tried desperately, unable to consider the alternative. And then a cloud shifted above us and the light became stronger. I saw with perfect clarity.
His eyes were blood red.
He smiled at me, a savage sort of grimace, daring me to run. I stayed frozen.
"You're the first human I've seen in several days." His voice was honey sweet and soft, coaxing. I stayed silent, my heart racing in my chest. I could hear the blood pounding behind my ears; the noise was so loud that I couldn't make out the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach anymore.
"Do you know what I am?" Unwillingly, I felt myself nodding; his smile became even wider. "Lucky for me—it makes this all so much sweeter, don't you think?"
The vampire was teasing me; he and I both knew the inevitable ending, but he refused to make the move that would lead to it. I hated him for dragging it out so long. This was all a game to him, a sick horrible game, and I was trapped on the playing board.
"You smell simply lovely," he crooned, tensing as if to spring.
In that instant, pointless useless thoughts ran lightning speed through my mind. None of it would do any good, but it felt better than waiting for this monster to begin in this eerie slowed down moment of terrifying anticipation. I hated myself for taking a shower, for changing my clothes and losing the wolves scent. I thought of Emily and my silly, sweet cousins. I thought of my room back home and how I would never sleep there again. Never see Katie or my sister again. Never get the chance to apologize for the last words I'd spoken to my mother...
But I didn't think of him any more than I had to. Death I could comprehend, not losing him.
The creature let out a low, throaty chuckle, obviously enjoying the tense wait. He was still waiting for me to run, but I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. And even if I wanted to, my legs could not move a single inch. I was frozen. I wanted to close my eyes, so I wouldn't have to see him dart towards me, but like my legs, my eyes would not obey. At last, he took the first step; he was all slow- motioned grace. I gasped…
An ear-splitting howl echoed through the air.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an enormous grey blur crashed into the vampire. I stumbled backwards, away from the snapping and growling of the two forms in front of me. The wolf had backed away after getting the vampire's attention and he was now circling him, lunging forwards trying to grab any part of his enemy. The vampire was crouched low, snarling at the werewolf, his hands outstretched, ready to seize.
Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run, to go back to La Push and get as far away from this as I possibly could, but I was frozen in place by some kind of horrible fascination as I watched their deadly dance. Where were the other wolves, I wondered desperately. They should be close by; they should know what was happening by now.
I stared at the grey wolf, trying to figure out if it was Jared, or Paul, or someone else, but I didn't know the pack well enough to tell them apart. Quil was the only one that I had ever seen closely in his wolf form, and he'd only told me stories about the rest.
Quil… the name sent a shock of fear through my heart. Was he ok? Why wasn't he here yet? He would be angry that I hadn't run away as soon as the werewolf appeared, that I hadn't tried to save myself; I had to force my petrified limbs to move. Slowly I began to back away, intending to run as soon as I was around the bend of the cliff and out of their sight.
But before I could take two steps backwards, a loud sound forced my attention back to the fighting. It was the sound of granite being ripped apart and shattered. The wolf had gotten the upper hand at last; a large chunk had been bitten out of the vampire's shoulder. The wolf twisted, flinging the lump as far away as he could.
The vampire hissed in anger and agony, launching himself wildly at his opponent, moving so fast that I couldn't see him clearly. The air around me hung still at the sound of the wolfs pained yelp as the vampire threw him heavily against the cliff face where he landed with a sickening crunch of bones. All thought of leaving left me, as I stood, unable to take my eyes off of the enormous, trembling wolf who lay huddled in a broken heap on the ground, surrounded by smashed bits of rock and debris. A strange strangled moan escaped my lips; the werewolf raised its head and looked at me. Our eyes locked for an all too brief moment.
He was trying to get up, but each movement sent a whimper and a shudder through his body and he collapsed in pain. His left front paw hung uselessly in front of him, bent in a grotesque angle. Blood matted the silver of his fur.
The vampire stood to one side, breathing heavily. He looked oddly misshapen and crooked with the chunk missing from his shoulder; his grace was all gone now. But that didn't stop him from being terrifying as he let out a low chuckle and slowly advanced towards the wolf. The werewolf whined and tried frantically to stand and meet the coming attack, but I knew he wouldn't be able to.
Run my mind was screaming. Run! It was only a matter of time before the bloodsucker killed my protector and turned towards me. This was my only chance to get away, while the leech was too distracted. Think of Quil, my thoughts commanded; agony twisted my insides—he would be brokenhearted if I didn't survive this, running was the only thing I could do.
But… it was like watching an animal that's fallen through the ice trying madly to pull himself back up to safety. You can see the sheer exhaustion in their eyes as their deadened legs scramble uselessly on the slippery surface and the freezing water numbs them. The struggle to survive despite the pain.
…I couldn't leave the wolf. My only protector. Even if there was nothing I could do, I couldn't leave him behind to die alone.
The vampire's teeth glinted in the moonlight, his smile was menacing and beyond frightening. He was doing what he had done before with me—drawing out each movement, letting the dread and anticipation build with each step—giving the wolf time to imagine the painful death that awaited him.
It all happened so quickly. One moment the vampire was just standing 10 feet away, and then in the blink of an eye, he was before the wolf, his open palm colliding with the werewolf's shoulder, sending him crashing into the cliff face again. He circled, growling lowly. The utterly inhuman sound made me shiver.
The high-pitched whine of the wolf sounded like a human scream.
"Leave him alone!" I screamed. The vampire's head snapped up towards me, his blood red eyes caught mine. I saw instantly that he had forgotten all about me in the struggle. With a sinking feeling I realized that he would not have remembered me until I was long gone. I stood motionless under his stare.
"Excellent, a snack for when I'm done killing this dog." He licked his lips slowly. "I'm still quite hungry and I doubt this… thing would whet my appetite. If the stench is any indication, it tastes revolting."
Before I even had time to blink, the vampire was standing in front of me. He was so close that his cold, sweet smelling breath blew onto my face. I shivered. "You on the other hand, I'll bet you're especially delicious…."
With a long marble finger, he traced the line of my jaw, stroking my face with a feather light touch. And then his hand slid lower, wrapping around my neck loosely. "Aren't you going to cry—beg me to spare your life? I like it best when they do that." His hand tightened until I couldn't breathe. He was going to snap my neck.
From somewhere behind me I heard the wolf growling, but I couldn't register it. My eyesight turned hazy, my body thrashed against his hold, wanting air but there was no air. Black spots clouded my vision.
And then, just as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he let go. I fell heavily onto the sand, gasping and choking as I rushed to pull oxygen into my deprived lungs. It wasn't until my breathing steadied that I realized he was laughing at me.
"So weak," he spat, crouching in front of me, pushing the side of my face into the sand.
"I'm not afraid of you," I rasped, hoping it would put him over the edge. I wanted him to get this over with and just kill me. I couldn't stand this torture anymore.
He pressed his finger to the side of my face again, dragging it along my cheek, scratching the skin with his granite fingernail.
"Tell me, will you cry when I rip this mongrel to pieces?" I whimpered, trying to keep quiet. He only laughed louder.
And then with a lethal growl, the grey wolf attacked.
It was over in seconds. A heavy thudding sound echoed as the wolf hurled the head and shoulders of the vampire as far away from us as possible, before attacking again and ripping another chunk off the mutilated body of the bloodsucker. I lay transfixed as the wolf lunged again, one last time, before collapsing in the sand.
Around me lay the bits and pieces of the vampire; they were still twitching. The ground was splattered with blood and the sight of it woke me from my trance. I wanted to fall onto my knees and curl into a ball, and wait for Quil to find me, but I forced my deadened legs to move towards the werewolf. I crawled towards him, threading my fingers through his blood-matted fur.
He was whimpering quietly; with every rise and fall of his chest the shivering increased, blood was pouring from several long gashes on his side.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no…" I moaned. There was so much blood and so many wounds, I didn't know what to do or how to stop the bleeding. "Please be ok." My voice was a hoarse whisper. The wolf raised his head feebly to look at me a moment, but then his eyes slid closed and I was all alone.
At the top of my voice, I screamed Quil's name.
"Don't leave me, please don't leave me," I pleaded desperately to the wolf. My hands and clothing were covered with his blood, but I held on tightly. It felt like hours, but in reality it was only seconds that we stayed like that. And then, the werewolf began to shake violently, and I knew it was caused by more than just the pain. I pushed myself backwards onto the balls of my feet and stared at the huge figure in front of me.
The quivering intensified, the shape blurred for a second, until all the colors ran together and I couldn't distinguish one feature from another. Cold grey fur was replaced with cold cinnamon skin as the wolf returned to its human form.
The air was knocked out of my lungs. It was Leah. Beautiful, distant Leah, who was supposed to be in Seattle right now, far away from this. Leah, covered in blood, her arm twisted into a limp, disfigured mass, curled tightly against her side. Leah lying in a broken bloody heap.
Quickly, I shrugged out of my jacket and tucked it around her bare skin, protecting her from the chilly air. There was so much blood, and nothing I could do…
"Leah," I whispered, brushing the sticky hair off her forehead. Her eyes were closed tightly and she didn't make a sound; she looked dead. I held her hands tightly in my own, as if that could somehow keep her here with me
"Quil!" I screamed again, agony tearing at me. I felt like I was going to break apart into a million little pieces with the pain. Why wasn't he here yet?
Her eyes opened into thin slits, she drew in a ragged breath. "He's coming," she whispered, before her head fell back against the sand and her eyes closed.
xXx
I felt his arms around me, he was trying to make me let go of Leah, but I clutched her tightly. "Claire, Claire," his voice murmured against my hair, his arms wrapped around my shoulders and drew me away. Sam was kneeling next to her now and the look in his eyes was too painful. He tucked my jacket more firmly around her and cradled her in his arms. He ran faster than I had ever seen anyone move—even the vampire.
Out of the darkness, three enormous, but familiar forms emerged and began to pile the white stone-like pieces of vampire together. Still keeping tightly a hold of me, Quil moved towards it. I cringed away, not wanting to be anywhere near those monstrous pieces, but Quil told me I didn't have to be afraid anymore. It was over. He lit a match, and the brief bright light blinded me for a moment as it fell down onto the indistinguishable mass. He added another match, and then another and another, until the whole pile burned brilliantly, emitting a strange chokingly sweet odor.
"It's over," he whispered again, before drawing me up into his arms and running as fast as he could back to La Push.
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