Toast

It was not to be. In the time it took Malakai to drive thirty miles to find a decent diner,the waitress to stop gawking and tuck them away in a cramped corner, and Luke to swallow three cheeseburgers, a liter of Pepsi and two orders of french fries—no ketchup—not to mention the time it took to find a convenience store in this little town of Nowhere (which didn't even show up on the GPS) that stocked more than one bag of Twizzlers, and then drive back to Carlisle's humble abode, the sun was setting and the whole of the Cullen clan was clustered in the living room.

"It was like pulling teeth!" Malakai complained as he let himself in.

"It wasn't that bad," Luke said, stepping over the threshold of his own accord this time.

"It was clo—ose." He was startled to see a room full of anxious faces staring them down. "Hello," he said, eying two unfamiliar figures. "Are we late for something?"

Luke grabbed for Malakai's arm when he moved toward the pretty new girl. He didn't like the way the other boy smelled. Jacob reached the same conclusion about Luke in the same instant and sprang up from the couch.

Carlisle was quick to step in. "Ah, Jacob," he said, touching the boy's shoulder, "Renesmee, this is—" he searched for an appropriate adjective to describe Malakai, but couldn't quite bring himself to call him a friend— "Malakai, and his friend, Luke. Kai, Luke, this is Jacob, and Edward's daughter Renesmee."

Malakai shrugged out of Luke's grasp and glided into the room. He wanted to meet the tantalizingly human girl attached at Jacob's hip.

Renesmee had blossomed—perhaps burst was a more appropriate word—into a stunning young woman. Eternally twenty-five, she stood at five-foot-six, her long dark curls spilling over her porcelain cheeks, her eyes the color of—

"Kai." Luke's strained plea shattered the moment. "I thought we were leaving."

"Leaving?" Malakai said as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "But, Luke, darling, we've only just arrived." He seemed about the only one who didn't notice Luke's unease.

Jasper took pity and tried to diffuse some of the tension. But that didn't stop Jacob from approaching him in as intimidating a way as he could.

"Edward tells me you're a werewolf."

Luke, who had no idea which vampire was Edward, assumed he was the tortured-looking one come to play referee. "Yes." He didn't like this kid already.

"I've never met a real one before."

Luke stared at him a moment. "Ah," he said. "That explains the smell."

Something flashed in Jacob's eye.

"Jake," Edward warned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Luke took a step back, his hands held up non-threateningly. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant it was different."

Jake's anger quickly turned to curiosity. "What's that on your arm?"

Luke snapped down his sleeve. "Nothing. Excuse me." He skirted around the pretender, and placed himself at Malakai's side, waiting to be introduced so he could say a few polite things and they could be on their way. Esme stepped up to him and offered him a drink. A glass of brandy, perhaps? "Water's fine, thank you." Malakai had just turned to him and opened his mouth when out of Edward's came the question that would keep them there till morning:

"Since when does Malakai have a gift?"

Nine pairs of eyes swiveled in his general direction. Five were surprised, two were merely curious to hear what he would say this time, and two didn't understand what the fuss was about but looked because everyone else was. Luke made it a point to avert his gaze.

"Not nearly as useful as reading minds or seeing the future," he said humbly, pleased with the sudden attention. He had been missing it ever since his eyes had stopped being blue. Carlisle cleared his throat and ushered them into the living room. It was remarkable how easily everyone found their usual place. Except Lucas, who had no place and was forced to sit awkwardly next to Malakai on the couch. "It's hardly worth the effort sometimes," Malakai continued, his red eyes drifting to Luke. "I'm a manipulator, like Jasper."

"You're an empath?" Alice asked.

Luke snorted. "That'll be the day."

Malakai threw him a look. "Not exactly."

"Not at all."

Malakai whapped him in the stomach. "Shut up and let me talk." He looked back at Alice. "No, I don't manipulate emotions. I manipulate trust."

"Trust?"

"Yes. For whatever reason people have always found me trustworthy. I've no idea why."

"It's because you're just so gosh darn good-looking," Luke said, the sarcasm dripping off his words like a monsoon in India.

Malakai smiled kindly at the werewolf. "Is that was keeps you around, Luke? My good looks? Oh wait, I think we've already established you find me attractive."

"Yes, everyone knows you're perfect." Luke waved him to get on with it.

There was a faint smile on his lips as Malakai returned to the story at hand. "Anyway, the gist of it is, I can get anyone to do or believe anything I want. I've been doing it to Carlisle for years and he's never once questioned me."

Carlisle's expression remained unchanged.

"What do you mean by anything?" Alice pressed.

"I mean exactly that. There was one instance where I made a man believe he had died and come back as a ghost. He walked around town for three days like no one could see or hear him. It was the funniest thing. . ."

"How does it work?" Rosalie asked, pulling him back before he went off on another story. "Can you show us?"

"A demonstration? I suppose I could do that." His sharp red eyes combed the room for a suitable target. "Luke, darling."

Luke's efforts to pretend he wasn't in the room proved unsuccessful. He had tuned out the second half of the conversation, focusing instead on making the water in his glass disappear. He had nearly succeeded when he was unwillingly called back. "What?"

"Lucas," Malakai said again, touching Luke's shoulder to get the werewolf to look at him.

"What, Kai, what?" Luke looked, if only to save himself from being beaten if he didn't. He broke his gaze at once. The look on Malakai's face said it all. "No."

Too late. Malakai had hold of Luke's chin. He forced Luke to look at him. "Now, Lucas," he scolded playfully.

"Kai, please." He tried to pull away. He looked horribly uncomfortable. "I don't want to. Use someone else."

"Luke, relax. I have another example in mind."

Luke stopped struggling against him. He looked skeptical for a moment, like he almost believed him, and then scowled. "You're such a liar."

"Trust me," Malakai said. The scowl dropped from Luke's face, though he still looked on edge. Malakai waited another moment before relinquishing his hold on the werewolf. "Lucas, your toast is burning." He addressed him in the same tone he always used, but perhaps with just a hint more charm. Carlisle recognized the voice; he knew it well.

"Toast?" Luke didn't look like he knew what Malakai was talking about.

"In the kitchen." He pointed a lazy finger.

The confusion spread over Luke's face as he turned and looked. "But I didn't—"

"You did. You wanted toast and I told you no but you went ahead and made some anyway. Because really, when was the last time you ever listened to me?"

Luke looked like he didn't know what to do.

"It may not be too late to save it," Malakai encouraged.

Luke got up uncertainly and walked hesitantly toward the kitchen. Halfway there he stopped and turned around. "I don't think—"

"You're toast is burning, Luke. What if you burn the house down? Where will I be if you die?"

Luke narrowed his eyes and stalked into the kitchen, muttering under his breath. There were a few moments of clatter as Luke no doubt searched for a toaster that didn't exist. That was quickly replaced by two or three seconds of silence followed by a loud "Dammit Kai!" as Luke stalked back into the living room.

Malakai looked as innocent as the Pope.

"Burning toast?" Luke was more than a little embarrassed. "Really? You couldn't think of anything better? You're such an ass." He took up his seat at the extreme end of the couch, as far away from Malakai as he could manage. "If you're through humiliating me I think I'll go drown myself now."

Malakai shrugged dismissively. "The lake's out back."

"So it's all just a lie?"

Malakai wasn't surprised to hear Edward ask. "Isn't that what all manipulations are?"

"How long can you manipulate someone?"

He had to think about it. "I don't know. As long as it takes to accomplish my purpose, I suppose. It has never not worked on someone. Even that lie-detecting one, whatshername."

"Maggie."

"Yes, her. I told her, well, something absurd and she believed it. As you can no doubt see, Lucas has built up something of a tolerance. He seems to be about the only one."

Luke was too busy booking flight tickets on his phone to notice the looks he was getting. Why Malakai couldn't have called Esme from the airport was beyond him. He could only hope first class tickets on the next available flight out of Green Bay would encourage Malakai to wrap it up. And if that didn't work, he always had Felix on speed dial. "Speak of the devil," he muttered when his caller ID flared up. He passed it to Malakai. "I think you better take this."

~*~
"Aro." Marcus came gliding into the room, his frown deeper than usual. "Felix is looking for you."

"I sorely hope he has good news this time."

"He didn't say."

Aro sighed. "Send him in."

Felix strode in with a bigger-than-usual grin on his face. "You'll never guess who I have on the phone."

~*~
"Aro!" Malakai greeted with fake enthusiasm. "To what do I owe the honor? It better be damn good if you had to interrupt my holiday, you know. No shit, really? A present?" He walked out of the room, chuckling nervously. "No, the only way I'll even think about coming back is if you bought me France. Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck— Better than France? Aro, the only thing better than France would be a girl and—Did you really? Who is she?" All ears tuned in. "What do you mean you won't tell me her name?"

When Malakai finally hung up and returned to the living room, everyone was watching him. They were all thinking the same thing, but it was Edward, his dark eyes smoldering under his thick lashes, who said it aloud.

"You can save her." he said, his voice no more than a whispered prayer. "You can bring her home."