Chapter 37
Suffer
"Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair." ~ Friedrich Schiller
Bella's POV
The silence is eerie. I can hear my own harsh breathing and the sound of the rain tapping against the leaves and ground, but little else. Against the curve of Edward's skull, tangled in the soaking wet strands of his hair, my fingers have gone numb with cold and the sheer tightness of my grip. My eyes refuse to focus so that all I see is a blur of copper and burnt sienna. Rich saturated colour contrasting violently with the ghost pale sticks of my fingers.
The air reeks of blood. It sticks in my nose and burns in my sinuses. It clogs my throat and tickles the gag reflex forcing me to swallow the taste over and over again, burying the metallic tang of rusting nickel and copper pennies in well water until my stomach churns.
Maybe the sound of it twisting and writhing in complete and utter disgust is what finally wakes Edward from his frozen state on his knees. He inhales slowly, once, and then rises so quickly to his feet there is no discernable movement. One moment he's kneeling, the next he's standing.
His mouth is a grim line, lips compressed almost as tight as the jaw beneath them. The entire circumference of his eyes is black, bottomless and burning from his pale white face. This is the predator, the vampire, the dark creature that Edward has tried for so long to protect me from. When his eyes meet mine I begin to shake, though not from fear. This is a letdown response, the adrenaline finally draining while muscles tensed for too long begin to tremble in relief and exhaustion.
Edward's hand rises as though to touch my face. It stops mere inches from its goal, so close I can feel the cold of his skin and see the blood encrusted beneath his fingernails. Smell the titian smear across his wrist that dissolves in the rain and trickles beneath the cuff of his shirt. More rusted metals to stick thickly to my tongue.
"Don't be afraid."
Even his voice is different. Like liquid silk rippling over refined granite. Though he seems to be whispering, the tone is resonant. The flashes of his teeth behind each word are razor sharp and starkly white surrounded by the red slash of his mouth. He's hypnotizing and darkly beautiful, and I can't help the sob that catches in my throat.
"I'm not afraid." I turn my head and press my lips to his freezing cold palm, ignoring the blood and the wet drops of rain. Another sob and I fling myself into his arms, clinging as hard as I can to his body while my knees give out and the traitorous ground tries to slide out from under my feet. There is no hesitation in the arms that come around me and hold me close like iron bands of safety and comfort. His clean pure fragrance obliterates the smell of blood and soaked wet earth, allowing me to breathe deeper and I drink in greedy mouthfuls. I feel his lips in my hair and his chilly breath at my temple, a sonant sigh that sounds like my full name.
"Isabella."
A guttural groan, wet with pain has Edward spinning, pushing me behind him. My heart hammers in my chest as I catch a glimpse of Jacob stirring on the ground. Though it can only have been a few short minutes since my arrival in this nightmare scene, it feels like hours. That everyone still remains frozen in the same position is proof that my perception is drastically off. The Pack has not moved. I can see them, barely, a good distance away. Small yowls and yips begin simultaneously with Jacob's newest groan. I can't be certain but they seem to be twitching in place as though they are fighting some kind of restraint, desperate to break free.
Alice, Esme and Rose remain behind me with Rose still closest. Esme and Alice have moved farther out as though to protect the right and left of us. In front of us Jasper, Emmett and Carlisle continue to watch the Pack, postures silent and eerily still like chiselled statues in the rain.
Again with the movement my eyes can't catch, Edward turns back and faces me. I blink rapidly, my mind fighting to compensate for what my eyes can't read. His ice cold, hard hands blur to my face and he cups them around my jaw and cheeks, his breath hissing through his teeth.
"I would have you safe. I would finish this. Now."
There is no question in his tone, but in the bottomless black marble of his eyes I can see he's giving me the choice. Finally.
There is no hesitation in my answer. "No."
For the space of uncountable heartbeats Edward stares at me. I always thought, even if he couldn't read my mind, that somehow he could see into my soul. With these eyes it's no longer a thought. It's a truth that runs through my body like a heated wave, and when his eyes close tightly enough that the frame of his thick black lashes rest on the purple shadows of his marble skin, I know he's heard me.
The knowledge of that is deep enough that when he releases me and moves back to Jacob with lightening speed and lethal strength, I do not flinch. Not even when he drags Jacob up off the ground and suddenly appears in front of me, slamming Jacob onto his knees, yanking his head back with a force that should snap his neck.
He's naked, covered in blood and dirt and bits of debris like crushed leaves. Half healed wounds look all that more grotesque for their in between state, and his bare limbs seem oddly disjointed. Muscles twitch beneath his tan skin, mottled with bruising I can literally watch changing shape and pattern and colour as his body struggles to heal. His eyes are closed. If it wasn't for his erratic painful breathing and the tight clench of his jaw I'd think he was unconscious. He isn't.
My heart hammers. My nose full of the stronger smell of fresh blood, and sweat, and pain, feels clogged and swollen, as though infected. I can feel the heat of him, rising off his flesh, steaming in the colder air. That heat triggers a violent wave of memories, inducing a nausea far worse than that caused by the smell of blood. I want to cringe but don't. Tears burn the back of my throat as I stare at him. The sudden urge to violate him in some way is frightening. I want to claw his face, jam the heel of my boots into the soft parts of his body, spit on him. My frozen fingers won't form claws. My feet stay cemented to the ground. My mouth is too dry and decimated to form moisture.
Underneath all of the violence and anger and pain is something else. Pity. It walks up my spine and settles in my chest with an unwelcome weight. The red hot embers of anger rattle the walls of the space I've confined it in and the contrast between the two emotions knots deep in my psyche, tearing at me.
Edward pulls harder on Jacob's hair until the chords of his neck stand out like ropes and tautly stretched wires. In my own body my nerves are stretched just as tight, maybe even tighter. The wolves are getting more agitated, their howls hurting my ears. Edward ignores them as if they don't exist, black eyes fixed with hate on Jacob.
"Look at her, Jacob Black." He seethes. "Open your eyes and look at her. Tell me you can't see the truth of what you did in her eyes. Tell me you still think it's all a lie."
When his eyes open all the pity falls away with what I see. He doesn't remember and he doesn't believe. Inside of my mind I start looking for doors and one by one I close them tight. Sealing in the light and moving on to the next, moving through a darkness as familiar as a friend.
Edward's POV
My focus on Jacob's mind is absolute. The whining simpering of the wolves is nothing more than static. Billy's mind is quiet now, watchful, my family the same. It's Jacob's mind I search, latching on to every weak flitting thought in his twisted head. I want to hear the sound of the truth hitting his brain, I want to relish the...
Silence. Like a heavy blanket, smothering, confining and entirely complete. It happens with a suddenness that is stunning despite the fact that I have felt it before. Bella.
She's pale. A shade of white reserved for morgues and caskets and dank holes six feet deep. As quickly as the dark metaphors fill my mind two bright spots of colour appear on her cheeks. Flushes of heat infused pink that do nothing but call greater attention to her pallor, like the fever blush of the critically ill.
For a moment her eyes search the clearing while I strive to make sense of her shield. Once again like earlier I can feel the weight of it around me. An intricate spider's web woven so tightly; one that shifts beneath my mental pushing and yet never gives more than a tiny amount at any one spot.
I can hear her heartbeat, steady and even now, in rhythm with her breath. The sound of the rain hitting her soft human skin and the softer sound of it hitting the gossamer fabric of her cream coloured blouse. It turns transparent, the bell like sleeves molding to her delicate forearms. The heavier camisole beneath remains opaque but forms itself around her like a second skin. Droplets of water drip from her fingertips, more droplets dripping from the ends of her drenched hair. When her eyes meet mine they burn from her pale features alive with flames.
Her gaze returns to Jacob, moving over his face and down his body, her expression blank. His wounds are healing, slowly but surely. None of them are fatal. I'd been careful in my rage to only inflict pain, wanting him to suffer and remain conscious right up to the moment I would have snuffed out his life.
His throat is battered, his vocal chords bruised and swollen and I watch without remorse as he swallows, struggling to form words. I'd rather snap his neck than have him articulate one syllable to her. It would be so ridiculously easy. One sharp tug and the back of his head will touch his spine. My fisted hand clenches hard and I'm rewarded with the pain filled hiss of breath through his clenched teeth and the sound of hair separating from scalp.
Still his lips move, soundless and pathetic. Bella reaches out and lays one hand, fingertips only across his blood smeared mouth. The flames in her eyes burn hotter.
"You don't believe."
Despite the incredible agony he must be in, Jacob's eyes flare and his mouth curls in a derisive growl.
Bella smiles. It's only the faintest twitching of her lips, a reflex that never places an ounce of emotion in her eyes and still it shocks him, makes him twitch as though he wants to pull away. Around the weak chameleon smile are black shadows of her pain.
"I want you to know what you did. I want you to feel what I felt." She swallows audibly and the tremors that had stopped begin again. Her fingers fall away from Jacob's mouth and I want to let go of him and reach for her, but she reaches behind her and whispers Rose's name instead. It's my sister's arms that go around her and anchor her.
"Tell me what you need, Bella." Rose's eyes dart to me and I don't need to read her mind to read the warning there. Don't interfere.
Bella takes a deep breath. "Jasper." He's there at her side before the sound of his name is even complete, and it comes to me now what she's attempting to do.
The Pack's howling escalates as they grow restless and uneasy with the unknown.
"Show him what I felt, Jasper." She shakes her head and takes a few small steps back. "I wish I could block you so you don't have to..."
Jasper's hands suddenly cup Bella's face, his expression a dark mask of fury and pain. "Shh." He brushes his lips over her forehead fiercely and then turns to Jacob his expression turning to one of murderous hate. Reaching down he grabs Jacob's face nearly tearing him from my grasp. "My sister suffered at your hands. Feel what she felt." Jasper's fingers link with Bella's and the emotions begin, pouring over everyone.
Jacob flinches violently.
The Pack whimpers, ears pinning back against skulls, wet fur twitching while their paws scrabble at the ground beneath them. Muzzles curl and eyes roll as Jasper pushes fear and pain and panic and heartbreak in waves that spare none of them.
Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, and Alice stand still and unaffected.
Bella's eyes turn to mine and the web like shield dissolves from my mind as her memories begin. A wave of sadness and confusion hits me like a wall. Through the projected emotion I see it all again.
The house, the meal they'd shared, Jacob drinking the wine, pulling her into his lap on the kitchen floor, holding her there.
"Tell him," she whispers as tears begin to fall faster and thicker than the rain, rich with the smell of Bella and her pain. "Tell him all of it, Edward."
The noise in my head is an implosion. A sudden rush of thoughts louder and clearer than any I've heard before. I hear the individual Pack members, Carlisle, Emmett, Alice. Sam's helpless fury, Billy's resolved understanding. He wants this. He wants Jacob to understand, to know what it is he has done, once and for all.
Every thought Esme has and every one behind it spills into my mind. All of Rose, not just the surface but the layers beneath, the ones she hides. The pure heart of my brother and his need to avenge Bella, his family, me. It's too much and over it all, loudest of all, is Bella's memories. Shredding me, eviscerating me...
Jacob at the door, shaking in rage. The inevitability of his thoughtless anger as he grabs Bella, demanding answers, bruising her tender flesh beneath his crushing uncaring grasp...
Tell him, Edward. Tell him what he did, all of it...
Bella's thoughts push at me and I focus on her, only on her, leaning down closer to Jacob, hissing in his ear. My mind opens farther and with every image I see and describe, the feeling grows. Jacob's thoughts are mine. I see each wave of useless denial crumble beneath the onslaught of words and emotion. I hear his excuses dissolve beneath the burning torrent of heat and truth. I use my words to paint pictures and details, describing everything. All of it. Every action, every vile word and heartbreaking plea, listing his crimes while his mind falls beneath our combined gifts.
Beneath our grip Jacob squirms, like a fish on a hook, his mouth opening and closing in gasping breaths. His mind opens further and his struggles stop, suddenly going still under the attack. My words and Jasper's gift combine and invade his head further and further, tearing away his self protective layers. He trembles under her fear, feeling it as if it is his own.
The force of Jacob slamming Bella against the wall, hands groping, mouth suffocating her in unwanted kisses, her pain, her helpless fear. Her desperate panic when she can't breathe.
Her body falling against the couch, the breaking of her ribs.
Jacob flinches and whines as Jasper draws on Bella's anguish and the latent power of her mind. Not just a powerful shield but an enhancer. Her gift is strengthening ours even as she protects the others. A gagging sound works its way up Jacob's throat but Jasper keeps a tight clench on his jaw forcing him to swallow the bile, choke on it.
Bella, pleading, begging and crying as Jacob's hands tear at her clothes...
Jacob begins to groan, a deep visceral sound of negation and desperate denial. He's begun to picture my words, some hidden part of his brain recognizing the truth. He sees his hands gripping Bella's arms and pinning them. He sees her face, pale and afraid.
Behind us I hear the wolves whimpering, shifting; their thoughts continuing to register the emotions Jasper emits. The Paul wolf so arrogant and eager in his anger only moments ago now whines continuously, sickened by the emotional damage Jacob had caused. Only Esme, Alice, Emmett and Carlisle are exempt. Even Billy has begun to cry, softly, remorse a weak compensation for the havoc and pain they all enabled.
"You did this, Jacob," I hiss in his ear as Rose lays her hand over the top of his head. Rose who none of us ever suspected had her own gift. Rose who may not have realized it herself. Like Jasper's gift she can sense and also impart emotion though she must touch someone to do so. Her touch heightens what is already overwhelming and like a small child Jacob seems to curl in on himself with the now crushing weight.
The heavy wooden coffee table smashes against the wall, Bella falls...
"Stop... No." A pathetic whimpering plea escapes Jacob's throat.
"You were merciless, don't ask us for what you never gave," I snarl. "Feel her pain, drown in it. Know the truth of what you did to her."
Bella's images begin to falter, growing hazy; the colours all running together like watercolour paintings viewed too closely. Jasper imparts her confusion, the power of the drug working her mind, stealing her concentration. I breathe all of it into Jacob's ear and relish his new understanding.
"The minds of your Pack are full of images of the aftermath of what you did," I hiss. "Too bad you are weak and human and cannot see it." Remembering Bella in shock and pain, lying so quiet in my arms, is all too easy. The blood streaking her mouth, bruises already forming over skin so pale its ethereal is not an image I will ever outlive.
I see the last effect of Jasper's final mental push in his head, and I chant more words to match and explain all he can now feel. Bella crying out a moment before the gun went off. Screaming just before Jasper's gift had sent her deeply unconscious so Carlisle could examine her and give us the proof we needed to know that some mercy did exist. A harder push imparting the distress of physical pain, the burning sickness of fever and illness and confusion, the fear she carries still within her very being, the one that follows her into dreams his father haunts.
Finally Bella's mind runs clear and she crumples in on herself, falling to her knees on the soaked ground. Her breathing is harsh and her skin tone is gray, though her eyes are clear, snapping with life and defiance. Jasper releases Jacob but I do not. I force his head up once again and snarl his name in his ear. The pressure snaps his eyes open as his body contorts to save his neck. I give him no quarter to absorb all that he's experienced, and once again I urge him to look at her. I want him to carry this memory with him forever. Bella hurting but not defeated. Defiant and frighteningly beautiful. I can see now a shimmer of what she will be in immortal life and the image is stunning. Nothing will compare to her and I see in his mind that he sees it also. His thoughts scramble and stutter as he tries desperately to wrap this image with who he believes her to be. He fails
"Do you see her, Jacob?" I ask, threateningly evoking a thousand hidden meanings in the question. Do you see that you could not break her? Do you see that she is stronger than you could ever be? Do you see that she belongs to me, now more than ever? Do you see that she is mine? That she will always be mine. Do you see that you failed, you pathetic fucking dog? She has always been mine. Always...
"You're alive because your death will not be allowed to stain her soul. You're alive because she is all that is good and right in this world. For her and her alone I will spare your miserable existence so that she will know peace again in her life. "
Cranking his neck farther I turn his head cruelly back to me. His eyes no longer burn; his mind no longer fights the truth. As much as a mind without memory can know the truth, his does.
"Kill me." His voice is twisted wreckage, nothing more than a garbled hiss. His mind is full of sudden self loathing. "If I did this... I can't live with this... I can't..."
I snarl loudly. The urge to grant his self pitying request is overpowering. My hands tremble with it, venom I don't need flooding my mouth in a rush.
"No," Bella repeats and I close my eyes striving down deep, farther down than I have ever had to reach to find some semblance of my former self. "No," she whispers again, and this time I know she's speaking only to me. "He doesn't deserve to die."
Oh, love. The mercy in you runs deeper even than the hate in me...
I let go of him, knowing I cannot resist the urge to kill him when I can feel the life he doesn't deserve thrumming beneath my hands. Too weak to remain upright he slumps forward on his hands, his broken arm contorting weirdly.
Jacob gags, retching blood and bile onto the ground and I watch him, relishing the new state of his mind. His realization of what he has done is stripping him raw, every new thought in his mind now a thousand times more pain inducing than any injury I've bequeathed upon his body. Finally something in me begins to clear.
Tipping my head back I close my eyes and draw the cleaner air into my lungs, clearing away the stench of wolf blood and hate. I listen to the sounds of the Shaman, struggling in his broken human body to shove his wheelchair through the mud that sucks and tries to mire him to the ground. Listen as his breathing grows ragged with exertion as he attempts to move around the shattered tree limbs slick with his son's blood. Wait until he's close enough to reach out with trembling fingers to his only son who flinches away from the attempted contact, waiting longer still for him to speak.
"The treaty isn't broken." His voice is loud, echoing through the space. He strives to sound calm and sure, and fails. Each word rings with his fear and desperation. Spinning his chair he turns to face Carlisle, perhaps because I don't respond. "It isn't broken, Carlisle. This can end, right now."
I stop breathing and lower my head when he turns back to me, nailing him with a stare that hides nothing of my feelings. Raking through his mind I see that he truly believes Jacobs death will only bring more hate and pain. I see his unrelenting love for his broken child. His remorse and guilt and all it means to him.
"Let him go, Edward." His plea might as well be the wind it's uttered so quietly. "Take Bella back into the light, help her heal. Let this be over. Let him go."
Like a lightning strike without warning, my arm snaps out and my hand wraps around Billy Black's throat. His startled gasp is not at all quiet, though it's strangled off in a heartbeat as my fingers clamp down, closing his airway. "Your arrogance is astounding," I snarl viciously. "I told you once and I'll tell you again, one last time. She is the conscience that governs me. Only her. Your son's black heart beats in his chest this very minute because she asked it of me. I care nothing about your useless treaty, Dream Walker. I care even less what you want. She decides, only her. Only. Ever. Her. Shaman." His title is a sneer on my lips delivered in a rush of venom scented breath. Releasing his neck harshly, he sags back in his chair, gasping to draw air. Before it has time to fill his burning lungs my hand is back around his sons throat and Jacob once again dangles from my fingers, bare feet dragging on the ground. The rain washes the blood from his wounds in rivulets down his legs. There is no fight in him and the Pack is strangely quiet.
"You will live," I tell him in an adamant dark hiss. "One lifetime, Jacob Black. One lifetime to remember what you've done, to live with the memories you tried to escape. How long that lifetime lasts is up to you so hear me now, dog. You will never come near her again. You will never force her to endure the sight of your face or the sound of your voice. Above all else," I snarl darkly, "you will never again let her name pass your lips." My hands squeeze tighter mangling his vocal chords, perhaps beyond repair. His leg muscles spasm briefly, but not once do his hands even twitch to try to stop me.
"If you're near, I will smell you. If you breathe her name, I will hear you. And make no mistake Jacob. I will come for you." He sags in my hold, the light in his eyes dimming. I let the cold skin of my cheek brush his as I lean in close, the near silent cold whisper of my last words meant for his ears alone. "Don't mistake my loyalty to her for weakness. There is little I would not do to give her peace, but there is nothing I would not do to keep her safe."
Before his oxygen starved mind can shut down I toss him aside with a flick of my wrist that sends him sprawling twenty feet away. I hear more bones snap as he lands and the wet sound of the rain soaked earth giving way beneath him. Before those sounds fade my arms are around Bella, lifting her from where she kneels, cradling her close to my chest, drinking in her scent and her warmth.
"Carlisle." I whisper my Father's name in plea and he answers silently.
Go, Edward. Quickly. Take her home; get her warm, care for her. I will finish things here.
My answer is a brief nod and then I'm moving.
At my touch the quiet resilience about Bella shatters. I expect fear, am prepared to be gentle and careful to show her she need not be afraid of me, but there is none. Her body curls into mine instantly, and she tucks her head into my neck with a tiny, near silent sob. As I begin to carry her away from the ugliness she should have never been witness to she cries against me like a small trusting child.
Walking away with the sound of Jacob's beating heart echoing in my ears is nearly unbearable.
Only her heartbeat matters, I tell myself as my legs move faster. Behind us I hear and see Emmett move to Jacob. I hear the Pack growl and Billy begin to plead, the sound of his wheelchair wheels sticking in the muddy ground overlaid by the sound of Alice's hands wrapping around the handles, stopping him completely.
Through his eyes and hers, Carlisle's and Esme's and the now howling Pack still trapped by Jacob's alpha command, I see him reach down and grab Jacob's mud splattered ankles. The bones and flesh look startlingly fragile in Emmett's huge fists.
"When you shattered my little sisters ribs you set off a chain of events that made her so sick she nearly died." Emmett's tone is quiet. It would be almost conversational if it wasn't for the look in his eyes. "I had to hold her legs down just like this in a bath of freezing water. Her skin was on fire underneath my hands, the bones so tiny I swear they were hollow. I could see the bruises all over her from you, from what you did and I watched as my hands made brand new ones."
I can see the way his fingers bite down into Jacob's skin, see the exact moment where they meet the meagre resistance of his bones even as my legs carry Bella and I farther and farther away.
"I listened to her sob and scream and beg us not to keep her in that water." His tone of voice is darker now. "She was so sick and I tried to hold her like she was made of glass." Emmett's eyes close taking away the vision of Jacob on the ground. I can still see him through the other minds. A kaleidoscope of visions inlaid one upon the other. "I'm very bad at judging my strength..." Emmett's eyes open again at the exact moment Jacob's ankle bones shatter and Jacob convulses silently. Emmett smiles. "Rose and I aren't bound by promises. We'll be waiting for you to make a mistake, Black. And you will, sooner or later, you will."
Behind him Rose smiles.
I move faster, past the last trace of destruction wrought in the fight, deeper into the thicker woods, the heavier canopy of trees blocking some of the rain. Bella shivers, her teeth beginning to chatter.
Alice stares at Jacob sadly, Jasper standing protectively at her side watching the Pack, mentally daring them to move. "I wish I could see your future. I wish I could tell you the misery that waits for you while you try to live with what you did," she whispers.
Bella's arms tighten around my neck. "I'm so tired, Edward."
"Close your eyes and sleep, love. I have you."
Behind us Esme has drifted to the deeper shadows, torn between staying to protect the others and following to care for Bella. For a moment her mind contemplates how little anyone pays attention to her, to where she is. She thinks how easy it would be to slip out of the shadows to where Jacob lies and slit his throat. One sharp flick of her nails over the artery she can see throbbing even from where she stands and Bella would be safe forever... She would never even have to know...
Bella's teeth begin to chatter violently. "I'm cold."
"I know, I'm sorry." For a thousand things, so many things...
Carlisle moves to Jacob, his eyes registering Esme's stance, blocking her path to him, knowing his wife. Knowing the Mother of his children. He stares down at Jacob his expression impassive. His medical mind surveys the injuries with clinical detachment, his emotions just as distant. Jacob has succumbed to a stupor just above the level of being unconscious. Carlisle turns away without qualm and directs his words to Billy.
"He'll live."
"Yes." Billy is pale and shrunken in his rain drenched chair.
"Your choice, Elder." Carlisle's tone is cold, formal, the question only barely implied. In his mind I see the desire for some type of further retribution war with his desire to end this without bloodshed.
"The treaty stands."
"We'll be leaving Forks as soon as soon as Charlie Swan is well enough to travel."
Billy hasn't taken his eyes off his son, but he nods. "Bella..."
Carlisle's hiss cuts him off and his eyes snap up flaring with life for the first time.
"She no longer exists to you, Shaman."
Billy's eyes turn inward again, his shoulders falling before his gaze drifts back to Jacob. After a very long moment he nods.
In my arms Bella trembles harder and I begin to run, sheltering her with my arms and body as best I can from the wind and rain.
Behind us our family begins to run as well, leaving behind the death like silence of a defeated Pack and the weary remorse of a broken Shaman. Jacob slips into a merciful darkness he doesn't deserve.
"It's alright, love. We're almost home now."