http:/i953 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/albums/ae12/booksgalore_bookishqua/DouglasReadyforhiscloseup (dot) jpg
Douglas sends his very best. And Edward and Bella most definitely will be in this chapter. Honest. Strap on those seat belts.
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Meet Paula in wolf form
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This is a sea anemone
http:/i953 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/albums/ae12/booksgalore_bookishqua/seaanenome (dot) jpg
And if ever an image to me described Bella at this point in the story, it's this:
http:/i953 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/albums/ae12/booksgalore_bookishqua/SwanSong (dot) jpg
Cullenary Coupling Chapter Eight - Heart of Darkness – Part Forty-Four – Um, Sorry.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot of the Twilight Saga are the property of its author. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.No copyright infringement is intended, nor will I ever make a dime from this.But Starched Shirt Edward, Jugurtha, the O'Sheas, Sister Claire, Hezekiah, Jenny, Horatio, Paula, Grace, Jericho, Skeevy, Violet Gorgon, Eve, Jethro, Molly, Phoenix, FitzCarrion, FitzCorpse, FitzCadaver, FitzSinister, FitzLuck, Young To Me Old Power, Merrisol du Pre, The Telecles Clan, the Fake Canadians, and Aaron are mine. So there.
Thanks to vjgm for being my senior validating beta. And entertaining me so. Mwa-haa-haa.
Many thanks to Fantasy Mother and LJ Summers for the beta-extraordinaire skills. It is an act of love and dedication to read 150 plus pages. Twice. I bow before them.
Thanks to Pomme_de_terre for reading a draft of this chapter (and the next) and offering me priceless feedback.
And thanks to the ladies on the thread at Twilighted, and the ones at Twitter for general hilarity and inspiration. Feel free to follow me at Bookishqua. I'll follow you back.
As ever, thanks so much for reading!
Shout outs to my muses! Thanks for the reviews, pm's, tweets, and general awesomeness, which help more than you will ever know. Thanks for sticking with me all this time: Jenn9394, Mosekemom, AngielNCarter, antipyro, summerc79, smiles, Robs_Muse, sexysadie13, Rogue, anniebme, madzee, fanficreader83, MsLessa, Merrisol, Rgwmnks, TraceyJ, jenejes, pomme_de_terre, mav, notmyself, elphabacy35, lost star, JaJiTaXx, redsoxlove, cavriola, sariedee, Silly Sad Sarah Twilighted, June, Disney Vampire, mizra, mortangel, mzzmjj, treya, DawnStimson, dellatwi, PJAustin, Teeks0412, jmolly, Mutt N. Feathers, Lady Dragona, prettyflour, CindyWindy, favludo, avidreader69, viridis73, peircenb, codelina, Angelbach, fitten, malachite flames, Solenoidbelle, Lily Forth, Isla the Island, TheBrunetteDevil, Twi-Hard Girl, and lovelifeX2.
Snarky Satire: In a remarkable feat of self-control, I have refrained from posting a satire as an AN that I've written about Edward and Bella's current predicament – and what Douglas thinks about it. You'll have to check it out on Twilighted's thread for the story here. Please do not drink anything while reading. You have been warned:
http:/www (dot) twilighted (dot) net/forum/viewtopic (dot) php?f=33&t=1210&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&start=2320
Snarky Summary:
Things you need to know from previous chapters that will aid you with this one are first: Genevieve spent weeks using Bella like a spiritual sock puppet sending baffling messages galore about the "red-eyed people" and one night things got a little out of control. You might want to brush up on the Be Still My Beating Heart section to recall how Bella got scarred. Edward lost his temper in the Sword of Damocles chapter and put Arria and her Fake Canadians and every lost coven in a thousand mile radius on a diet of no-algae in order to force her to sign a new treaty concerning that "no-biting Bella" conundrum. Would that make them extreme-vegan? Anyway, some of the other covens revolted against Arria for hoarding the food supply for a mere century or nine. Heartless wench. Vivinna had plucked a ranting Edward from the ocean and had insisted he be bathed, shaved, shorn, and sent on his merry way to Italy after a cozy chat. Mother of a heartless wench. She also kind of sort of arranged his attire and appearance to match old legends of a green demon that the old snotty aristocrats all fear like the human version of the bogeyman. Or Nightmare on Elm Street's Freddie Kruger mated with Jason from the Halloween movie franchise. Or the Alien and the Predator – never mind that combo sucked. And Edward for the record, had a blast. In Italy.
Edward had promised to train the new shaman in exchange for the continued use of his Quileute powers. He believed he left Paula with knowledge aplenty, wolves a-trained, and Bella a-protected. Imbecile. Oh, and Hezekiah also let Edward know that during his own human life, he had two tests, and yowza - the second one was a real killer. Edward has already had one exam, that whole, you must sacrifice dealio he thought meant "Kill your human girlfriend." Whoops. Jasper learned, much to his distress, that he was a bigamist as his childhood sweetheart wife he long believed burned to an ember appeared and demanded he leave that floozy Mary Alice – or she would dismember….never mind. Wife number one did not take rejection well. At all. And let's face it, the unflappable Jasper really seriously sucketh at telling his Penelope-was-a-wuss-in-comparison-like wife who has butchered thousands and relentlessly searched for him since the Civil War that he's no longer that into her. He's into someone else. And has been for fifty years. Sorry. Can he please have his Grandmother's ring back to give to Mary Alice seeing as Annie/Victoria/What's her face has taken such good care of it all this time? Kthxbai. It is a time-honored Southern tradition to have a crazy ex-girlfriend. Jasper is just into the extreme version of Southern culture. And he's deplorably bad, considering he's all Major Emo, at letting a girl down easy. Main Edward would like you to know that had Jasper merely shown a little more tact and set up separate households and used an inventive line or two thousand, all this could have been avoided. How hard can it be to keep two women so sexually satisfied they ask no questions? Amateur.
Speaking of which, Edward decided to go gadding about the country in search of his brother Jasper's legal wife's head, and legs, and arms, and ass – morally speaking of course – to prevent his family distress. Our boy-wondering-what-the-heck-is-causing-him-so- much-pain had the strong desire to turn her into an old flame in more ways than one. So he got a little side-tracked, while figuring out about that whole rebellion Maria had planned. He gained his human memories back, including what "love" feels like. While he was at it he also figured out at long last that golly-gee-willikers, he's truly in love with Bella. Who knew?
That makes that whole heartfelt, "I *sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff* *sniff* *snort* *sniff, sniff* totally lied to your weak mortal brain so I could keep huffing your…..scent….your blood….." speech um, awkward. It's not like he can fall to his knees, look at her and achingly claim in velvet tones, "Bella, I lied." *pouts* *dazzles* *glitters* *pants on her fifty times for good measure* *saunters* *crashes and burns* Fine. He could totally say (and do) that, but he'd actually BE lying, the sanctimonious rat bastard. Although the panting, upon further deliberation, is not a bad idea. Note to Main Edward…
Imagine his astonishment when the whole gang shows up for a feast day in the catacombed caverns of the Volturi and Marcus stages a coup – decides to reanimate some old friends and loved ones (known as his Legions of Doom), and Arria decides to bring Bella along in a Bring-Your-Daughter-To-Work kind of scenario - her being the doting VampMom and all. And Edward kind of goes diva expending copious amounts of spiritual powers in order to defend his dear little dilapidated daffodil. Oh and he has a family reunion of sorts with the O'Farrell family that the Volturi have held in prison for a mere fifty years. Time flies when you're having fun. And he arranges for the turning of a Canadian school-teacher named Merrisol.
Throwing an epic snit, Bella decides to give everyone the silent treatment. Seeing Bella naked for the first time…in months…like that…does not have Edward aroused or amused. In any way. He's ready to go kick some ashes and worry about recording names later. And no, Bella does not suffer from an eating disorder in this story JSYK. So after impatiently (Main Edward does not like my preference for the word 'impotently' in that sentence – but we all know he has performance issues) trailing behind Marcus as he rumbles through Romania and throws bonfires a plenty for his dearest friends he hasn't seen in a coon's age, they arrive in Forks.
Then Leah throws a stink. Bitch. And we see that she kind of sort of tried to bite Bella's head off at her Mom's funeral. Rude Bitch. And then she told Bella a thing or two along the lines of "My parents are dead and it's all your fault!" Whining Bitch. Somewhere out there there's a village that is missing its idiot. Speaking of which, it takes a veritable village to wake Bella from her stupor. Edward, Jasper, Emmett, Marcus, the Gorgon Vivinna, Skeevy, and Aro – accompanied by Seth and Leah and a legion or nine of soldiers and fake Canadians run off into the night to face Phoenix, Edward hears a familiar voice. Who can it be now? And so we begin.
Songs for the chapter:
New Order - /Blue Monday
http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=ZufBoReGFx0&feature=related
Yesterday – Beatles
http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=ONXp-vpE9eU
Runaway – Del Shannon
http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=MoRWaNsnAnA
Madonna – You'll See
http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=MMQIdzXi_RE
Douglas has been on the lookout for you:
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Cullenary Coupling Chapter Eight - Heart of Darkness - Part Forty-Four - Um, Sorry.
We lay in bed, and the feel of her lace nightgown that exposed a tasteful-in-more-ways-than-one amount of Bella's luminous skin was incomparable against the bare flesh of my chest.
"Sweetheart," I teased as she sighed.
"Hmm?" She lulled in the half-world between Morpheus' enchanting call and consciousness, as I trailed reverent fingertips over her soft shoulders, brushed aside her hair and teased the nape of her neck. Out of pure wickedness, I slipped my palms underneath her gown and ghosted them across her back only stilling when they reached the end of an entirely different kind of pilgrimage...
"Edward!" Skeevy shouted against the shrieking gale that felt like thousands of tiny arrows sliced into me, cruelly wrenching me from dreams of my beloved bottle cap as I ran in formation. A wintry burst of snow blasted us all, catching me off guard, forcing me to blink away the ice's sting. I landed back into reality courtesy of Skeevy yanking me out of the path of a lying-in- wait-ice-encrusted-spears-pointed-at-me Sitka Spruce. Why did he care about the frigid foliage? Had I hit it, the tree would have died. Not me.
Considering I had fantasized about killing him for months, I found this all kinds of peculiar. He was the demon who had relentlessly hunted Bella for years in her dreams, causing her countless nights of misery, for non-malicious family reunification purposes. But still. I wanted to dislike Skeevy for that, except for the fact that he was too damned nice. Clearly he had the recessive genes in the Telecles family. And I wasn't all that distressed at the idea of him giving Genevieve and Liam nightmares for decades. Drat.
"You seem fatigued," he called as he moved me out of the snow drift that I had landed in gracelessly. My brothers brushed the powder off of me as I stood there like a simpleton. Did I mention I could feel the chill of Skeevy's hands all the way through the multiple layers I wore? Poor Merrisol - his currently turning mate - thank goodness she could not die from the cold. His feet could be the undeath of her. Or appropriated as secret weapons of torture to make immortal enemies chirp like songbirds.
"My thanks." I said. And began running. They followed. And I decided to ignore their concerns that the wind should not be able to impact me seeing as I was a real vampire and all.
"Are you well?" Skeevy repeated. Presenting a composed face to the world, I told myself that pulling up my insulated coat's hood and tying it securely under my chin merely showed my dedication to pretending to be human, not that I actually felt the plunging temperatures. Much. Fine, it was bloody frigid enough to make Satan blanch, and my ear lobes sting. Running camouflaged the chattering of my teeth.
Emmett nudged Jasper and both stared at me as we scurried through the forest winding our way through the old growth trees, trying to leave the mountains behind.
Jugurtha said, "You need to pay attention to your immediate surroundings."
"Bella soon will be my immediate surrounding."
"Yes, but first you have to find a way to persuade her she even wants to speak with you, before you can lure her back to your bed." True. That. Drat. Double Drat. Women! Why couldn't we all just get along? And not require pesky things like genteel sparkling conversation? That seemed perfectly fair.
"Our dear little one is a living saint," Starched Shirt Edward opined. "She will surely forgive us when she witnesses our genuine remorse." Was that a hair shirt I saw peeking out from his collar?
"The sooner this task is completed the quicker we can return to scheming, groveling, and diverting people's attention," Jugurtha suggested. Excellent plan.
"Edward?" I heard that weak voice again.
"Paula?"
"Leave!"
"Tried that. Not very effective." I answered through the shaman link. Its use felt foreign after all these months.
We arrived at a frozen patch of the Hoh River encrusted with small rocks crowned with sea anemone-like frost. To hide our tracks, we jumped over the expanse, leaving the tufts of ice intact. We ran west towards Forks on our way to meet Phoenix's army in battle.
At the mere idea of another gore-venom-fest, Aro became so excited that he sprinted ahead of our group to all but skip with the soldiers who were at the front. Marcus fell back to run beside me, after he and the others saw me trip over a log and avoid falling only due to the mixed blessings of the modicum of vampire grace I still possessed, and the quick left arm of Skeevy. I let the fact that Marcus had been easily outpacing me slip my mind, considering the voice I had just thought I had heard.
"Edward, what is it?"
Cupping my forehead in my palm, I tried to rub away the iron-like bands that clamped down upon my skull, "I heard a mind that cannot possibly exist." I must be more tired than I had calculated - and I had already felt exhaustion's toll. Clearly, I had started hallucinating. Which I never did.
"Whom did you think you heard?" He sounded so calm. Calmer than Jasper in calm voice mode.
"The last Quileute tribal shaman. Charles Swan was courting her. Her name was Paula Black."
"If you heard her voice, then why do you speak of her in the past tense?"
Realizing I could not massage away the pain, I took my hand instead and waved an arm in frustration. "Arria said Bella and Charles Swan found Miss Black's house covered with her blood months ago. They never recovered a body, but humans cannot lose that much blood and live."
"She is a shape shifter, correct?"
"Yes."
"I would not rule her out so easily. She is the one that Carlisle said had no scent, correct?"
"Yes."
"Was she also not the one whose mind you had difficulty detecting? Why not try to use these gifts to see if you can find her? If you heard her once, who is to say you cannot capture her mind again?"
Tsking at my doubtful expression, Marcus advised, "Edward, warriors must be watched the most at two times, when they are very strong, and when they are weak and have nothing to lose. Both are equally dangerous." Unfortunately, I knew about the nothing to lose part.
I asked Grace if she could show me what had happened at Paula's house on that night months ago. She responded, "No, busy far away. Could not see."
Tentatively, I reached out using the shaman link, and begged the spirits for aid. I heard nothing but the snow, and the wind, and the roar of the countless minds around me frothing at the mouth in anticipation of war, which come to think of it, were awfully inconvenient at present.
Jugurtha cautioned, "Remember we failed to hear her before because we were not listening at the correct low frequency her mind uses. You have to block everyone else out and focus in order to find it." Right. That. Good man. I adjusted accordingly, and still heard nothing amidst the minds in the region that blared at my pounding head.
Then I received the disturbing image of the crumpled form of a bloody Paula Black huddling in a cave, paws over her head, shivering. Her pain battered against me and flailed like a man on his way to the executioner's, before she slammed down some kind of barrier, using a word I did not understand. Reaching into the collected tribal memories that had been increasingly coming unraveled offered no aid. Wielding Hezekiah's walking stick, I began chipping away at the wall I could not see or touch. Compared to the force that had surrounded Phoenix, and the one used by Arria upon occasion, both of them could take lessons from Paula. I redoubled my efforts.
"Paula?"
"Edward?"
"Run!" She whispered as she flung at me a series of images: a flash of a battle, the sound of screams, whimpers of pain, the warm splatter of gore, venom's sting, and then, I heard no more. The images she had transmitted . . . I wanted to vomit at the fear they induced. And her drinking blood from the neck of a half-dead European werewolf. Ew. Even I had standards. And I know there were jokes about lawyers being blood-sucking leeches. But still.
The last thought I heard from her was the mournful yet defiant, "It's the only way I can survive," as I saw her hollow eyes burning green flames tinged with black at the edges back at me. The only problem was they were not supposed to have that pitch coloring so said the ancestral memories. That and the gulping blood like a fraternity pledge with the last beverage at a festive weekend gathering part. Not to be snide, but the Quileutes were revolted by our kind for drinking blood. Someone had double-standards. But her secret was safe with me. I was not about to reveal her as a closet wolf-blood-drinker. Sadly, I was going to have to tutor my student into having better taste.
From listening to the Greek chorus of nearby minds, I appreciated that I looked bad. Too thin, exhausted, twitchy seemed to be the tenor of the majority that ran around me. Others groused about my excessively painful to immortal senses malachite nimbus, temper, and audacity. All of which I totally agreed with as fair criticisms. But Paula? She appeared worse. She was in her wolf form, with an infected wound directly below her throat that did not appear to be healing. One would not be mocked for mistaking her for a sack of bones covered with a thin tarp of ragged fur.
Starched Shirt Edward waved his arms in the hand like stalks of corn in a breeze and wailed, "A woman is in danger. Stop mocking the predicament!"
Jasper asked in Oscan, "Edward, what did you see?"
I did not think they required the specifics, "Paula singlehandedly killing a European werewolf."
Emmett high-fived Jasper, "Good for Paula! Wait. I thought she was dead?"
Marcus halted our progress. He clapped an arm around me and said, "Please send me the thoughts." For Paula's sake, and due to that being stared at by thousands of confused troops, I offered the severely edited version, which Marcus in turn, broadcasted to those around us.
Marcus said, "It appears they attacked her and caught her off guard."
From the vision she had sent, Paula had been ambushed at her house by a group of immortals and European werewolves that she had never sensed coming. Judging by their "humans are so puny" demeanor in the soundless series of scenes, her attackers had not considered her dangerous. Marcus snorted as he saw the scene unfold.
Jasper said, "You cannot blame them for believing her to be a mere human. We made that mistake once. They aren't as large as the European variety."
The immortals, from Paula's mind, had expected to encounter a human woman they could question before sending to a sloppy demise. They had received the distinctly unwelcome shock of their undead lives when Paula had morphed into a wolf - a large one and had attacked her way through the ranks of the four vampires. I could empathize. Paula was formidable when she chose to be. And those immortals totally deserved everything she did to them. Snotty scoundrels.
"She fights well," Marcus noted. "Did you train her?" he asked Jasper.
"I did."
"You show potential."
I thought Jasper was going to expire from happiness on the spot. His joy soared through the bodies around us putting the already-excited-to-be-hacking-at-another-group-of-hapless-immortal soldiers into a higher plane of ecstasy.
Marcus pointed to one part of the vision. "See those tall men? Those are European werewolves, and they are not phasing."
"Do they only do that when the moon is full?" I asked.
"When they are mature enough, they can phase upon will. Her house appears to be too small for them to transform without shattering the roof."
"Why would they care?" Emmett mused.
Leaving a house with telltale holes in the roof would have been hard to explain. And presuming they had the slightest capacity for logical thought, the most unwelcome callers had no idea how many other of those wolf-like mongrels there were in the immediate vicinity.
She had killed four of the group handily before they decided to take her seriously as a threat. Paula took a swipe at a shelf in the kitchen and sent her spices raining in a cloud all over the immortals. They started choking from the multitude of disgusting odors and with an impressive backhand, Paula then threw in the coup de grace, a canister of something that made the European werewolves fall to the ground and scream in earnest.
"My good man," I poked a finger at Jugurtha, "Please make a note in our diary that a substance called "Tony Chachere's Cajun spice" causes European werewolves considerably delightful distress. And see if we can purchase it from a nearby human store."
Jasper was already ordering up a supply using his Blackberry.
I returned to her ruminations. A snarling female lunged and threw herself on Paula's back. They fell to the ground. The European female managed to tear a chunk of flesh from below Paula's throat before quickly being dispatched with a creative use of a coal skuttle. Jasper particularly appreciated that move. Paula ran out the back door with two irritated immortals on her heels into the deluge and quickly lost them, chanting in a panic the words of the phasing ceremony.
Something was missing from the story she sent. Paula had escaped from what we saw of the memory, and had fought bravely, but acted frightened almost to the point of irrationality. The snobbish immortals would not be able to find her scentless blood in the deluge, and thanks to the wolf gene, she would heal every bit as fast as vampires did from a wound. Yet I could sense from her face and thoughts, pure terror.
Jugurtha peered and scratched his chin, "Her shoulder wound should have healed by now. And it did not. She must have believed she was dying and acted in desperation. Incidentally, I can have a case of that spice product shipped to the Cullen mansion in six hours if you do not mind paying extra."
"Do so."
I said in Oscan to the others who stared at me like I was about to burst into flame and spring into song and dance simultaneously, "Paula Black changed the tribe because she believed she had been mortally wounded and sought to protect the tribe. She never meant to turn Jacob into a wolf. That was done by accident, and she's sorry."
"Who is Jacob?" Marcus interrupted.
"Her idiot nephew and we should probably avoid saying his name," Jasper replied in Oscan, his tone mismatched to the venom of his words. He avoided the gaze of the curious wolves who loped at our side. Their ears had perked up at the only word they had managed to understand in the exchange.
"I see. Why does this concern you? One person becoming a shape shifter should not be a problem. They're awfully small compared to the real wolves I've seen."
"The young man in question is under the delusion that he's going to marry Bella," Emmett snorted.
"Why is he still living?" Marcus chided.
For a second, I had an image of Bella's irate face on that day in the hospital when Jacob Black, esquire, had attempted to lure her to his Father's house with enticements of chili, fornication, and household chores. Idiot. He never stood a chance with her. She was mine. All mine. Just as soon as I could persuade her to speak to me again.
Jasper replied, "At the moment it is politically advantageous, and Bella would never consider his suit." Emmett chimed in his agreement.
"I see. Edward, can you use your ability to detect where the other shaman is now?" Marcus asked.
Feeling like the child caught with his hand in the proverbial spiritual cookie jar, guiltily I moved my mind away from its lurking - I mean monitoring of my family's examination of my mate. Seeing as none of them knew about the whole increased range ability business of mine, and I definitely intended on keeping it that way. I'd have to do some quick thinking. So I parroted what Jugurtha told me to say, "She and I have a mind link because we are both shamans, and I am her teacher. Paula is barely alive in a cave more than eighty miles due east. She's been poisoned."
"Do you have any idea of the size of the force she faces?"
"I only saw flashes here and there of what seemed to be a small coven," I replayed them for Marcus.
"I think this sounds like a mission for her nephew, don't you?"
Jasper snorted, "He's too stupid to live."
Marcus eyes twinkled. "Precisely." Oh right. Brilliant, that. "And even better, we're permitting him to expire as a hero."
I cautioned, "We need the shaman alive, though. She is as smart as Arria." I meant to say 'smarter' but thought the truth in that particular scenario would not do me any favors.
"Then you will have to accompany him. To ensure his soon-to-be-sung about death is not in vain. And I'll send a healer with you who is versed in our poisons. If you encounter a force larger, I can always send reinforcements."
The words, "I'm afraid I'd kill the nephew before the enemy did," somehow lurched from the hinterlands of my brain to my lips. I have no idea what overcame me in that moment.
"Ah. So don't speak to him. You have perfected that technique. Also, bring other shape shifters as witnesses and an incentive to behave."
I might have recently lost my mind, but at least I had the good sense to conduct the next query in the privacy of Marcus' thoughts. "Phoenix's gift is deadly in person. Can you shield from him?"
"Why would I need to?" Marcus appreciated my tact and appeared to find it endearing. Wonderful. Now I was cute. In a perfectly childish manly military sort of manner. If he reached across and pinched my cheeks I was going to expire from mortification. Not those cheeks, although that probably would have had the same result. No, most certainly would, I meant to say.
"Phoenix kills immortals by draining them of all their energy when he comes within a certain distance," I explained, "And his range could have compounded since he feeds off of his soldiers."
"How dreadfully unoriginal. Arria, Carlisle, and Jasper recommended that we can easily bedevil Phoenix by shooting missiles at him and his troops out of the range of his gift. When I use the portal, he cannot wield his power." Marcus' smile should stay hidden from sight. He made even me nervous with it, and definitely captured the attention of every other person in the area who watched. From the thoughts of his soldiers, him baring his teeth in that manner meant lots of the enemy dying. "That means when I do kill him I'm going to make St. Sebastian look like he had an easy death." Marcus sent me a vision of Phoenix filled with so many poisoned arrows he looked like the vampire equivalent of a porcupine.
Marcus summoned a group of his soldiers forward. "Edward needs to go hunting. See that he does so successfully. Make sure he eats the algae every hour and feeds on at least five large deer every three."
Why did I suddenly feel like a small child left at home for the night with a minder? Ones who looked at me as if they were being left with demon spawn?
He waved at one of his legionnaires to join us; a man whom by the bags he wore was their healer. Marcus said to Skeevy, "Please accompany them as well."
I had thirty legionnaires with me, and ten men from the Fake Canadians - including my least favorite boorish brooding bastard, and ten of Skeevy's joined us.
Jasper thought to me, "Edward, you have to let the tribe know this immediately."
"But."
"I know she might not be alive. But if she is and they find out we sat on the information. . . We are in a precarious position with the tribe at present. You have to think strategically."
"We brought over a hundred thousand-"
He interrupted me, clapping me on the back as he ran by my side. "That's all well and good. And they will certainly be grateful if it helps and they live. But we will also have to answer for the time we left them on their own. We still do not know what happened. And I am going to need you to do your best to find out. A vengeful ally is a dangerous one."
"We totally outnumber-"
He cut me off again. "Edward, when people are irrationally angry they often don't really care about the odds." Well, he had me there. I certainly appreciated that sentiment. I think I felt that way when I first arrived at the Volturi catacombs. Things were a bit fuzzy at present. And no disrespect intended, but that phrase should be inscribed on his late wife's tombstone. Thinking of my poor Bella's face as Victoria/Annie whatever the Hell that scorned witch's fifty-eight personalities chose - thinking of the anguish as she literally carved her initials into Bella's shoulder rejuvenated my rage.
Cheerily, Emmett said aloud, "Buddy, tone down the growling part. You're making people nervous. We all know how much you love fighting."
The audacious bastard actually managed to deliver that whopper of a tale with the right touch of benign goodwill to make it believable. I'd firmly established in my brothers' minds during our wrestling matches over the past decades a marked disdain for any form of combat. Emmett considered the recent times he had seen me fight to be aberrations on my part as I had been clearly overwhelmed by those "freaky wolf powers" as he dubbed them.
Using the wolf link, I reached out, and against my better nature, said, "John, I think Paula is alive. I am going to take Seth and Leah with me. Jacob might want to join us."
"Are you sure?" What a loaded question.
I sent John alone some of the visions from Paula and said, "I do not think she would want the others to see this." He understood, I suspect, being a quiet man.
Seth asked using the wolf path, "Edward, what is going on?" Leah watched in silence.
"I just heard Paula's mind. We're planning her rescue." That attained their undivided attention. "John is sending Jacob." Now they understood why they had heard Jacob's name earlier, although they did not like being kept out of the loop.
"I might be wrong, you know," I warned them morbidly.
Jacob whined about being away from all the action until John informed him that Paula might be alive and suddenly, he became the newly converted. Young Mister Black could not wait to reach my side and come to my assistance as he took off in a tizzy. Alas. I looked forward to witnessing his tragic demise. And Jacob looked forward, once his aunt had been secured safe and sound, to teaching me a lesson or two about manners, or the lack thereof. For the first time ever, I was happy to be back in Forks. I could not wait for school to be in session again. We had so much catching up to do.
"No!" Jugurtha ordered me. "You have to be the bigger man."
"I am..."
"Intellectually," Jugurtha snorted, "and he towers over you, and you know it."
"Can you give me one reason why he should not die a noble death tonight? Even Marcus endorses the plan."
"Yes, I've been pondering the issue. First, he is Ephraim's descendent. And it would hurt Ephraim if you killed him." Drat. That was true. Technically.
"Second, if you take him along and let him see you rescuing Paula, he'll owe you."
"Why? I would have rescued her regardless of his presence."
"He doesn't know that. He thinks you are a self-absorbed scoundrel." Well, that was absolutely true, which caused me concern. If a nattering nit-wit like Jacob Black recognized my true character...perhaps I should change his categorization in my mind to an idiot-savant. That worked for me.
"And then there's the last reason," Jugurtha opined, flipping through the pages of Sun-Tzu's masterpiece.
"Which is?"
"Paula promised he would stay human. If we turn him back into a mortal, we look bad. If she does, she's looking out for the welfare of her nephew, the tribe, and she's keeping her word which she broke, and by the treaty has to fix. We are in trouble with the tribe already. We need to point to an example where they broke the treaty as well, so Jacob is our living leverage. Worse, she turned him and left him alone with Bella vulnerable. We can definitely use that."
"And then," Starched Shirt Edward blurted, "you have to consider that Miss Black loves him. And she has been through much suffering, and most likely needs him to aid her in giving her comfort. If we kill him, she would most likely guess. We do not want her as an enemy. We need her friendship. And she has helped us with our dear little one in the past. We absolutely need her oratorical prowess." I noticed he avoided pleading for the life of the weasel nephew on the whole, "Murder is immoral," grounds.
"Fine," I muttered in disgust. "Have it your way." Life was so unfair. I could kill anyone on the planet, except for Jacob Black. Ye Gads.
Jugurtha put Sun-Tzu aside, pored over my schedule, and said, "You have enough time to fit in a rescue if you move quickly. The legionnaires can keep up with you."
One named Quintus handed me a flagon of algae which I drank with a shudder while they all chuckled in sympathy, and laughed at me as if I were a juvenile human partaking of his first alcoholic beverage. Not that I had ever actually done that while alive. Unfortunately. And they were polite enough to ignore me as I faced away from them while feeding upon four deer they brought me, and I attempted to assist as they efficiently buried the corpses well away from the group. The legionnaires insisted I should rest.
As I watched the last one smooth snow over the animals' grave, Skeevy muttered to Jasper, "Edward appears pale - even by our standards." They all thought I stood out of listening range.
"I do not know what to tell you," Jasper added, "I've never seen him look that bad in the fifty years I've known him. And now he's feeling the cold. I do not know if he can suffer from frostbite, but we should probably ask Father. And his emotions are volatile to say the very least, when he's weak."
Emmett texted home with nimble fingers. I had no idea how he used such tiny buttons with his big fingers. After sending a text, "Carlisle, can Edward get frostbite?" he chimed in, "Usually, our sibling doesn't speak but every few decades. Since he met Bella, well, all that has changed. Now he talks a little more, but only when he has to. Mostly, he stands around watching her every move when she's not looking, and pines. Poor guy. He's got it bad."
"We need to make this mission go as quickly as possible," Skeevy cautioned, "Father is worried Edward cannot hold out much longer. He can sense that he is weakening."
"Now it makes sense why he had to be around Bella for his pain to lessen," Emmett mused.
Skeevy said, "I have been told that vampires feel emotional comfort around their mates." Jasper was too polite to tell him that fishing for information about Merrisol - his currently turning mate - was painfully obvious.
"I know," Emmett sighed. "But Bella is an entirely different kind of connection. If he touches her, his physical pain eases as well. We have never seen anything like it."
"Can she heal other vampires?"
"No." Jasper said.
Emmett butted in, "Those freaky wolf powers that he has are so hard on his system. Carlisle and Rose did tests and said if Edward had been human; the damage to his brain from wielding them was the equivalent of dropping a human from a ten-story building. And every night, Edward has to sleep in order for his body to regenerate."
"So he has these gifts, but it causes pain to make them work? That is not normal."
Jasper said quietly, "Father is sincerely worried the powers Edward has will kill him. His heart keeps starting back up, and you cannot smell it at present, but he has his own blood flowing through his body. Edward feels pain not only physically, but emotionally when he uses his abilities. It is impressive how much he tolerates without complaint. He's a tough kid."
I was not a juvenile goat. And I was not little. And for crying out loud, I was over a century in age. How long would they think about me like a puling infant? And I inwardly scoffed at the idea of an eternal demise. God couldn't be that kind. So I knew I was safe on that front.
Jugurtha pushed his glasses up his nose and reminded me, "You strategically chose to act like the shy seventeen year old all these years. Don't blame them because you succeeded in your efforts." Right. Blast. "And they will find it odd if you all of a sudden act like a mature man. We can't let them know we've been fooling them, although Jasper is beginning to wonder. And your god gave you Bella back from the dead."
Skeevy said, "We have so many troops accompanying us that Father would like us to move quickly. He wants to use the storm to hide our tracks. If Edward can get a precise location we can jump to it."
As I turned to face them, Skeevy wiped the expression of pity from his features. My brothers did not bother. Marcus stood out of range convening with his commanders.
Washing my hands in the snow, I dried them against my pants and donned gloves, attempting to hide trembling fingers as I rejoined them.
Jasper made the ultimate sacrifice to give up fighting a battle alongside Marcus to accompany me as he worried I'd die by tripping over my shoelaces or impaling myself on a tree stump and setting myself alight. Emmett, too.
Jasper inquired, "Edward, which way?"
"She's been hiding in the caves around Lake Wenachtee."
"That's over a hundred miles from here due East." Emmett whistled, "that's some range you've got there, buddy."
"Paula has a strong mind. Hezekiah said this was normal between shamans and their teachers. I do not know that there is a limit to the range," was the only thing I could think of to say.
Marcus huffed as he rejoined us, "Do I want to know who Hezekiah is?"
Jasper laughed, "Doubtful, as he's dead."
"So are we."
"No, I mean really dead as in speaking from the afterlife dead." Jasper only caused more confusion.
Vivinna joined us, having recently chewed out a soldier for his lack of archery skills.
Marcus had never met an immortal that could commune with the dead. "Our Edward grows more fascinating by the moment," he said to his wife.
Emmett explained, "He was a Quileute shaman we knew in 1940. He teaches Eddie how to use the powers he has." Well, that sounded accurate, albeit farfetched.
I turned to Leah and Seth and said aloud in English, "Jacob is on his way. Could you please wait for him and then catch up with us? Time is of the essence."
"Sure." The other wolves with them vanished on John's order and loped back to the reservation. They could not wait to get away from us. And that hot lady that stank.
With a salute, Marcus and his mate took their forces and headed westward for the reservation following the path of the wolves. I had managed to show John and the rest of the pack what the Telecles clan looked like and their uniforms, too, so the younger members wouldn't do anything moronic like attempt to engage the wrong group of bloodsuckers in battle. That would be deadly. Rude, too.
Prudence dictated that I maintain a constant scan of the immediate environment while also devoting part of my mind to Bella. They were in the midst of running tests on her heart, and so far the only thing that they knew for sure was that she was very sick. And she slept throughout all the procedures as if she was beyond caring. To the surprise of all, once they had completed the tests, Arria lifted her daughter and said, "Which room?" Mother led her to mine, and put on a fresh set of sheets. Together, they put her to bed. It made the most bewildering sight, Mother untying Bella's right boot, and Arria, her left. Since the house was still cold, they left my dear little algae lover in her warm clothes and piled blankets over her.
Jasper turned our group around after a quick jump courtesy of Skeevy's lost coven that left us two miles from the lake where Paula hid. My brother led us to the east at a blindingly fast pace through the heart of the storm. We were halfway to our destination when Marcus, Vivinna and their soldiers met the curious-yet-too-desperate-to-question John Quill standing amidst the soaring flames of the reservation's buildings that shook their fists at the night.
Marcus ordered his troops to take up position, with his gift and explained aloud to John, "I am Marcus Telecles, John Quill. There is a large army on their way. We will be able to handle them with little effort, pull your troops back and let them rest. You have suffered enough."
"I offer you my thanks, Marcus, but this is our home."
Kindly, Marcus said, "They have a large component of European werewolves among their soldiers." John retained his ramrod posture and still demeanor. "Strategically it makes sense for us to be in the first wave. We have vast experience fighting them. You will be able to have plenty of vengeance, and this would be a better use of your troops."
John wearily agreed. His face broke into a wide grin as Marcus used his gift to connect with the wolves and show them his plan. There was much happy yipping and yowling amongst the tattered tribe.
Phoenix was on his way to his rendezvous with destiny filled with delusional deductions of his own importance. Grace and I were rather angry about that whole attacking Genghis incident, despite the fact we, okay, fine, I loathed the dog. So I asked Grace if she would call in some favors.
The first thing we did was have flocks of birds, every bird we could talk into the venture, spook the enemy army. They flew ahead of them through the forest, the avian version of Paul Revere signaling with their disquiet that something was most definitely wrong. And fine, Phoenix may have been gifted, once again, with payloads of excrement from a couple thousand or so. It added to that skunk odor the geezer shamans had generously bestowed upon him not so long ago. And it made the troll appear ridiculous in front of his soldiers covered with bird droppings he could not dodge. Knowing he feared the snow for some odd reason only added to the hilarity as he used handfuls of it to attempt to clean himself.
Then the flocks stayed well out of immortal range and started cawing at him in patterns. Grace had encouraged them to use a particular trill that was perfectly pitched to grate on sensitive vampire senses.
It sounded ominous having that many animals out of range of the ever so powerful immortals taunting them, like the slug at the bottom of the food chain had suddenly developed a stentorian set of vocal chords.
Phoenix waved his only remaining hand and said, "They're damn birds. Ignore them." He ran towards the flames of the reservation.
In the battle at the mansion months ago, Arria's archers had indeed been impressive. But they had nothing on the legionnaires. The first wave of arrows that soared through the snow-filled sky caused complete panic to break out among the enemy army as the men and women hit began seizing on the ground screaming in agony, before freezing in a repugnant rictus.
Phoenix barked, "That should inspire you to move faster. It was a lucky shot!" Or thousand. Idiot. He boasted, "Get me close enough and I'll kill them all!"
I had to give the man credit for either being distressingly optimistic or dismally dunce-like. Death stalked him and he acted oblivious. Clearly someone was overconfident. What a delusional, sad, sad man. I had looked forward to killing him. But I'd make this sacrifice for the greater good. Paula needed me. And I needed her alive more than I needed to kill Phoenix. So said Jugurtha. And Starched Shirt Edward pointed out that I had to give Marcus something to do to let him feel useful.
Meanwhile, our minds were suddenly filled with images from another army. Marcus' four sons and assorted legions of doom that had arrived to bolster the already bored out of their skull soldiers had made quick work of the remnants of Maria's now Southern fried forces. The fight had transformed from something that resembled an army of cats casually batting at hapless mice to choreographed chaos. Many from Maria's army had scattered, fleeing for their lives. That did not work out so well, either, as the legionnaires scared the life out of them with their speed.
Tiberius ordered that a few should be allowed to escape in order to send word to the enemy. The rest Marcus' men patiently slaughtered. The force they had encountered might have been strong fighters in the Southern Wars, but against better trained soldiers with arms, it never really was a contest. Emmett, had he been watching, would have claimed that it was not a game, merely a scrimmage.
Marcus, at Jasper's urging, insisted that any cell phone or electronic device found upon an enemy must be returned for study. The legionnaires had no idea what those funny boxes were, but orders were orders. And I still had my eye on that Metie Telecles. Something was most definitely wrong with him. He enjoyed killing way too much. And I didn't like the look of him. At all.
Jasper shook his head as we ran at the end of that vision. "Something's off."
I barely paid heed to his words. The satisfying sight filled my mind of thousands of arrows lashing against Phoenix's army and stabbing him in the backside a time or five. He squealed in outrage and yanked them out.
Marcus opened a portal in front of him and said, "You really should learn not to trifle with your betters, you know."
That occurred right around when the poison sank its barbed claws into him. Phoenix could not move, nor could he do anything but mentally scream. I knew what that felt like having suffered at the whimsy of his gift. Marcus made it appear like a massive glowing hand reached out and snatched Phoenix from the Earth as he pulled him through the portal.
Aro touched the troll's paralyzed body, greedily lapping up the repository of generations of mental marginality, and then said, "Brother dear, he's all yours."
Phoenix, from Aro's thoughts, had been a naughty boy. I filed away the memories for contemplation at a later time, and kept part of my mind shadowing Aro. Jugurtha claimed we had been able to glean all sorts of useful information in maintaining this practice.
Vivinna stabbed Phoenix in the chest and literally ripped his heart out as Marcus cleaved the troll's head from his scrawny shoulders.
"Ladies first," he bowed to his mate. She offered him a bright smile and tossed Phoenix's shriveled organ - the heart I mean - into the flames. Without even looking away from her, Marcus flung the head over his shoulder through the air to make a vampire basket of sorts in his rapidly increasing scorecard of death. Rather than getting sappy, Marcus yanked his bride to the side to avoid her being leapt upon by four lumbering vampires. He casually sliced two of them in half as they flew past. Aro yelped and brandished a sword with lethal precision in defense of his sister and killed the other two. And he groped every almost still twitching not quite corpse he could find. For tactical purposes, of course.
Two soldiers stepped forward and lifted the carcass of Phoenix and threw the pieces into the soaring fires around them. Then I heard this wave of battle cries as the forces met head on in the space between the fire and the snow. Did I mention that Marcus was impressive on the battlefield? And his wife most definitely had his backside, in a purely logistical sense of the term. She gave new meaning to the phrase, "backstabbing battle-axe."
As the troops began to fight in earnest, I easily picked out Sergei and his towering family. It was rather difficult to miss them transform into their European wolf form. They were every bit as tall as the enemy ones. And outnumbered. But that did not seem to matter because they fought dirty. Really dirty. Jasper would heartily approve dirty. They particularly liked to lift up the bodies of the enemy soldiers, rip them in twain, and throw the screaming-in-pain missiles at the opposing European wolves. It kicked in their already battle-aroused predatory instincts if they were hungry, and confused them as well, long enough for someone or several someones, to hack them to pieces.
"Edward!" Jasper elbowed me in the side having received the Marcus-vine feed, "Phoenix is dead. We have to focus on the present. Nod at me if you understand." Jerkily, my head moved in an affirmative gesture. "Excellent." He and Jugurtha ordered at the same time, "Find Paula." What a marvelous idea.
It took a while to isolate a frequency that seemed to work. I kept sending out the same message without hearing a response. Fifteen minutes later after the fifty-eighth, "We are almost there," I heard a faint voice scratch against me.
"Where?" Paula sounded almost delirious.
I could see through our link that she stalked two vampires. Her first victim's scream broke into a wet gurgle with a chomp of his skull as she used her claws on the other simultaneously. Paula might be an amateur compared to me, but she definitely had that killing with economy business down. I worried how she would burn their bodies considering she was trying to hide and all from irked immortals. Paula held out a shaking claw and literally plunged her front paws into the abdomens of both soldiers. An oily smoke-like spiritual aura of black with green flecks appeared around the corpses as they shriveled into something resembling petrified wood. She then turned them into the equivalent of sawdust - how I know not. It took her all of four seconds before she heard more vampires coming and flattened to the ground, teeth bared in a grimace.
"To you, Paula. We came for you."
"Dammit Edward, I am not worth saving. I told you to run." She snarled. "I am-" and then she somehow managed to break that heretofore unstoppable shaman-student connection using some foreign power that mentally burned. Then, I heard nothing at all from her.
The spiritual geezers who had been silent shouted, "Get that girl, Sonny!"
That's about the time all Hell broke loose immediately around me. It felt all kinds of smug being with the lost coven, knowing that their gifts shieldedthem from being detected from other immortals. And Marcus' legionnaires were an amusing lot acting unaffected as they saw things like telephone poles and cars and houses and . . . .I thought after having sensed Phoenix and his army and having learned their tricks, as well as that of the covens I'd encountered in Italy that I knew all. It never occurred to me that we could have those same gifts used against us. By another lost coven. Or three. We ran into a clearing and found ourselves surrounded by a force four times the size of ours.
The boorish one that I preferred to ignore and the soldiers that accompanied him blended into the crowd behind me. He thought at me, "Keep your mouth shut and let Cale handle this, Junior. And you caused this particular problem just so you know."
My name was not Junior. There was nothing junior about me. That I'd ever admit to. I mean I was superior to him. Definitely. With better manners, when I was not being overcome by wolfpyre newborn rage and screaming hateful things at my beloved bride. But still. I had apologized twice over. And she was such an angel. My Bella. And I only chose to follow his advice because I would have kept my mouth shut regardless. Why break a seven decade's long strategy that had worked well. Imbecile. If you don't speak, they cannot use it against you. Everyone knew that.
Starched Shirt Edward poked me in the ribcage with an elbow and said, "His name is Decimus. You should get to know him."
"Why would I bother addressing that beetle-browed blowhard?"
"He's useful."
"Dead."
"Were you in Forks the past eight months guarding our dear little one around the clock?"
"No." I sniffed, "But I don't know that he was."
"You don't know that he was not, either. But he acted as the head of her guards before we left. Why would that change?"
"Perhaps because he's incompetent? She nearly died. Actually, she did die." My mental voice cracked and Starched Shirt Edward winced for a moment and puffed up his chest.
"Do not blame him for our shortcomings, and Arria's. And we must show him and the others that we are not the man they saw on that day."
"My vote is still for him to accidentally-on-purpose perish - preferably painfully."
"His mind is useful."
"True."
"We do not have Aro's ability to gather all those memories at once. My vote is for him to live. And murder in this case is immoral and we're trying to avoid that now that we are on the path to righteousness. We have to be worthy for our bride."
Jugurtha shrugged his shoulders refusing to disagree, which meant he sided with the preening pipsqueak. And he definitely did not open my planner to pencil in, "Behead the boorish backbiting bunion-on-the-sole-of-life also known as Decimus. With extra vigor and dismemberment, too. Throw him a hearty bonfire." Why did Marcus get to have all the fun?
"Fine. Have it your way."
I heard Emmett mutter in Tagish, the almost extinct dialect from Canada, to Jasper, "Edward needs more of the green gum. Now. He's turning pale."
Jasper reached into his pocket and withdrew a pouch and handed it to me. I knew better than to argue. I wolfed it down as quickly as I could to avoid gagging. This was as bad as human food. Almost. And it did not go over well that I consumed it in front of the hungry enough to ponder drinking animals opposing side. They seemed to think I was taunting them. Their food supply was low, several mentally whined. And they were hungry. Jasper-hungry.
Excited at the prospect of gaining food, their leader hailed us and said, "You don't look familiar. What coven are you from? We are on a hunt after a beast that has killed several of our soldiers."
By the ragged appearance of the bristling vampire, Paula had also gotten her claws into him as he was missing a leg. Then the leader's eyes fell upon my distinctively malachite green glowing form and his chin jutted. The soldiers in the field surrounding him became tense.
Jasper thought, "Try to lower the amount of energy they see if you can."
I couldn't help it if I was hot. Supernaturally speaking. But I obeyed.
Skeevy said, "My name is Cale. Marcus Telecles has taken over the Volturi and restored the Lost Covens who are now in power."
"Then he'll understand when we kill that irritating Arria, after we deal with this beast."
"Actually, he won't, seeing as she is his daughter." Skeevy's cloak parted as he drew his sword, and revealed the gyrfalcon coat of arms across his chest, "And my sister."
The man howled, "She has horded food from us for centuries. We have a right to it, too."
"She has kept your clan alive at great risk to her own."
"We outnumber you. I feel like I should give you a head's start just to be sporting," Their leader scoffed. The others followed suit in the scoffing contest.
Since they were trying to be annoying, this of course meant I had to have more food for the principle of the thing. The very idea that they would drool and try to kill over this sap-like sludge was silly. Although it made sense seeing as it hid them for years from the other side. But Arria totally had a right to horde it.
Skeevy said into my mind, "Edward, now would be a good time to start glowing green and doing that trick with the fire."
Fine. Now I was the entertainment of the party. I canted my head to one side and said to the leader, "The woman you hunt is under my protection."
"Arria?" he spluttered.
"No. Arria has no need of my protection." I figured that would score points with her when she heard that claim, "I am referring to Paula Black. It appears she's torn through your ranks and caused you considerable distress." My scathing gaze focused on his wounds. And I knew nothing about the seven smirks I sent at him. I can not help it if he misunderstood a polite smile.
And I won't repeat the vile things he said in response concerning Paula. I was now going to have to kill him for insulting her honor. Not that she...never mind. It was the principle of the thing. And I actually liked Paula. Not in thatway. And this bastard was keeping me from my suffering mate and that most definitely had me irritated. I'm afraid I kind of overdid it on the green power business because my head started hurting and I threw controlling my power out the window. I wanted this over quickly. Both newborn sides of me thought that sounded like an excellent idea.
When I summoned the Quileute spirits and pointed out that I required their assistance because their female shaman was grossly outnumbered and why hadn't they helped her like they should have in the first place - they became a bit perturbed. I felt like I had spiritual linebackers tackling me, except they were leaping inside of me and my power grew along with the pressure inside my skull. Ouch. I believe they were making a point.
"Jesus, Eddie, lighten up," Emmett squinted. Wasn't I doing just that? What else did he want from me? Spiritual confetti?
The other side watched in morbid fascination.
"What in the name of the gods is that?" The leader of the lost coven that pursued Paula sounded as if I was the most repugnant thing he had ever seen.
Whispers of "green demon" scurried through the ranks of the men. Apparently they were a bit familiar with the green color having come into contact with Paula a time or ninety over the past few months. And some of their thoughts. That silver-tongued litigator managed to disgust even me, which meant I totally had to share with Jasper to get his opinion on her battle techniques - absent that whole throat rending and sipping part. Jasper's eyes got all foggy with battle-envy as he mentally danced in delight.
I snarled at the enemy leader, "Without provocation, your coven burst into her house, wounded her, and chased her into the forest."
"We knew the human had been around Arria. We wanted to see what she knew about the food. She was fair game. And we had no idea she was one of those things. So what if she dies? She's a stupid human."
Jasper scoffed, "That makes you appear all the more foolish because you haven't managed to kill such a weak puny beast. And it looks like she certainly chewed you out." We laughed at his pun.
The boorish one stepped out from behind a legionnaire and said, "I'd second that observation."
"Decimus! You bastard!"
Okay, maybe the leader wasn't a complete idiot. Starched Shirt Edward slammed his fist against my ears and said, "Focus on the enemy!"
Irritated, the blast of power I sort of intended to hit him with smacked into the soldier standing immediately to the left of the enemy leader and sent him screaming falling and clawing at the ground. Oops.
"Am I supposed to feel sympathetic that you failed in plotting to kill my sister?" Skeevy used a withering voice.
"It's not fair she has all the food!" the leader wailed, trying to make an intimidating display of waving his vampire blade at us as he tried to ignore the screaming of the man writhing at his feet like a snake in hot ashes.
Skeevy sounded sincerely curious. "We've been hiding from persecution for centuries. Who ever led you to believe that life was fair?"
The powers within me decided they had heard enough of this "might makes right" parley nonsense. I held my palms flat toward the frozen Earth and summoned even more shady friends to join in on the spiritual Mardi Gras. I lunged for the leader. He irritated me. But he irritated Decimus and Skeevy even more as they threw blades that seemingly erupted from his chest. So I decided that the seven around him required my attention, especially the one wailing on the ground, making my head hurt worse. I heard Jasper and Emmett swear and leap into the fray after me, fretting about me moving too slow to survive in a fight. And I grumbled back at the Quileute spirits that they were slowing me down, so said my brothers. Even Jasper was faster at the moment as the powers seemed to splutter as I threw a blast at an enemy soldier in front of me using Hezekiah's staff. It managed to catch the soldier's shirt alight, but that was it.
He batted at it with his hand and jeered, "Is that all you've got?"
"Why no, thank you for asking," Skeevy responded as the legionnaires began to fight, moving at velocities that only now caught the attention of the other group as being not quite right. Save Skeevy and the Fake Canadians, they were too fast. No one moved like that. And fine, we were outnumbered, so Grace decided she would break her rules just this once and leave Quileute lands, seeing as Marcus seemed to have the situation well in hand, and I apparently did not.
It was a good thing I had recovered my human memories and recalled all that fencing practice as I stabbed two who, I think in all honesty, tripped onto my blade. Not that I'd admit that. Somewhere along the way, I'd dropped Hezekiah's staff and had started using my sword. The metal one.
Grace took on her reptile form, cloaked herself from immortal eyes save mine, and used her talons with brutal efficiency on the throngs of the enemy immortals that my brothers smacked and stabbed, the ones who seemed to think that if I died everyone else would simply go away. Grace did not like that sentiment.
Upon seeing the wailing vampires perish, several of the men in the opposing group immediately transformed into European werewolves. Grace sailed toward the other side of the clearing. She showed me that one of the European wolves stomped on Hezekiah's staff, intending to crush it. The instant his paw made contact, he vanished, much to the consternation of his colleagues. Even Paula had not pulled off a trick like that.
Marcus sent another five hundred men who quickly surrounded us and that's when the fighting began in earnest. So Grace snatched four soldiers at once and for lack of a better term, really chewed them out. She kept her form hidden from the enemy, which entertained me to no end as they jumped as she took swipes at heretofore oblivious soldiers. Who had the courtesy to promptly scream in terror and die. And stay dead.
My goodness, those European werewolves were almost twice the size of the Quileute wolves, and Grace really knew how to hold a grudge. She literally ripped one in quarters before leaping to a howling female - who did not protest for long. I saw several of the giants pick up soldiers and gnaw them to pieces. Well, they tried. They grabbed legionnaires that Marcus had insisted be doused in poison. The second their mouths touched the legionnaires, they fell over like tree trunks.
And that's when Grace really got excited. Me, too. I let the birds come out to play. They burst from my hands and flung themselves with shrieking glee upon bewildered men and women. That whole outnumbered problem seemed to be spiritually handled. And fine, Marcus' legionnaires really knew how to fight circles around other enemy lost coven. Grace, in between eviscerating the enemy, scooped up Hezekiah's staff and dropped it at my feet.
Jugurtha said, "Scan all the minds you can that are still alive to find out about any poison they might have used on Paula. And grab the damn staff as it helps us focus." Right. Drat. The one who had poisoned her, from the thoughts of the others, had died weeks ago in a particularly grisly manner. Emmett and Jasper were awfully helpful in preventing me from falling a time or five.
Emmett hissed in Tagish, "He's starting to fade. Those wolf powers are blinking."
I had no idea why he was so upset; I was in exactly the same amount of pain now as I had been half an hour ago.
Jacob and Leah and Seth chose that moment to join us. I ordered them to stay back from the European werewolves and let the legionnaires handle them. Alas, Jacob listened. Jasper took the arrows that Arria had given him and shot one into the eye of a male that charged us. He tumbled to the ground and transformed back into his human form trying in vain to yank the arrow from his head. The legionnaires fell upon him like ants on a carcass and made quick work of him - well the part of him that Leah left over. Even Jasper admired her style.
I could hear Paula in my mind, as she crept behind a soldier that charged Seth and Leah. Marcus had sent his troops a picture of Paula in wolf form so they knew not to attack the emaciated wolf. Unfortunately, she was very easy to pick out of a crowd, scentless issues notwithstanding. Paula leapt on top of the enemy vampire fighter and ripped his head off with a bite, leaving his remains for the legionnaires to hack apart. She pounced on the back of a European werewolf, and to the shock of the Quileute wolves, tore his throat out and greedily drank from it. She dismembered part of the carcass, tossed the rest at a group of the legionnaires and lunged for another enemy wolf. The thoughts of shame and disgust that oozed from her mind hurt, and Jasper picked up on them from her. I knew them well. They had been my companions all these years.
"What does that make me, chopped liver?" Starched Shirt Edward shook his fist. If only.
As she gulped from another dying European wolf, I sensed the power in her grow slightly, before weakening again. Seth and Leah did not bother to hide their revulsion.
"Aunt Paula?" Jacob said through the wolf link. She could not hear him.
To this day, I'm not quite sure how it happened. From Marcus' mind I saw a European wolf leaping for John and at the same time I saw two flying towards Paula who was weakening as she faced three other opponents. But the tipping point was when I detected from the thoughts of the ones in the clearing that they had sent a faction to the Cullen mansion to scour for food and hostages. I heard Marcus' voice in my mind say, "Edward, please be calm, my forces know and have the house surrounded. She is well."
Everything went white behind my eyelids as I roared my outrage to the heavens and felt the carved wood of Hezekiah's staff burning into my palm. I remembered Bella leaping. I thought of the sight of her body flailing through the ocean, of her blue lips when pulled from its grasp. I thought of her kicking against me and shrieking like a fishwife, and then I was slammed with the image of her leaping through the air on the screaming children as immortals I wanted to kill all over again darted towards her. I saw that snarl of defiance on her face before everything seemed to leach from her mind and she went silent. Then I remembered her body. And that's when I think I lost what little temper I had left. I wanted them all dead. Now.
I threw back my head and roared with wrath as my body seemed to break into a thousand pieces as I flung myself at two European werewolves and pushed Paula into Emmett's arms. As I felt the sting of teeth on my clavicle, I remembered John's warning about how their bite made the Quileutes go mad. Really? I'd show them mad. I'd -
I woke up on the ground, bleeding profusely from my chest and surrounded by a crowd of solemn legionnaires. Skeevy mouthed that I would be fine. Except I could not hear any noise and felt blood dripping from my ears, eyes, and mouth. Did I mention how cold the snow felt as it braced my back? Through split lips, I begged the spirits to aid Paula and reached out for her broken form that lay beside mine. Jacob nuzzled at his unconscious aunt, trying to revive her, howling.
Emmett batted Jacob's muzzle away from his aunt's wound snapping, "You don't know what that is, kid. Leave it." I picked that much up from reading Jacob's mind. I still could not hear a thing.
Considering that Paula was still in wolf form, and we were chaperoned, I did not think she would mind if I took the liberty of holding her hand - I mean gore-encrusted paw. Emmett was working on her wound, apologizing profusely to her from his thoughts. Seth and Leah moved Jacob back so he could work.
Jasper's mind suddenly panicked as he thought that it struck him as quite unusual that, despite the pressure he placed on my wound, that my flesh was not healing as all immortals' would. He gestured for the legionnaires' healer to attend me. The man moved the cloth aside and tsked.
Regret washed over me, and I could not help but point out to the Quileute spirits those sentiments. In my attempts to aid both the tribe and my family, I had left them all vulnerable. I begged them to aid Paula, as she had clearly suffered considerable harm. I felt the spirits trying to enter her mind and hitting a black wall that surrounded it like a Fortress of Doom in the fairy tales. They sighed their apologies and wandered off into the night.
I dropped her hand as I lost my battle with the pain as through the shaman link, I heard her plea, "Let me die."
"No."
I wanted to tell her that life couldn't be that kind, but I was otherwise occupied. And I hated talking, mentally, or otherwise. The next thing I knew we were standing outside of the mansion. Well, a group of us were. And fine. I was totally not standing.
Emmett carried me like one of his children. Decimus actually held my weapons. Grace had the staff. Jasper and eight of the legionnaires carried the wolf form of Paula. Seth, Leah, and Jacob trailed.
From Jasper's thoughts, the rest had remained to question the not-going-to-be-skulking-upon-the-Earth-much-longer immortals. Then excruciating pain crashed against me with such force Emmett actually dropped me like a scorching rock. Initially, I had no idea its source. I never even had a chance to defend myself as I slipped into the dark, Grace's alarmed croon ringing in my ears woke me again.
The legionnaires lowered Paula to the lawn as we came to the threshold of the rings of power around the house. It would not let her cross. I roared to the spirits and tried to merge my mind with the barriers that Arria and I had constructed around the house. The ones that were being battered by something almost as powerful as the Gorgon's fury. That's about the time, I decided that Paula was going to have to get over her issues because she was keeping me from mine - I mean my beloved. I held out a shaking hand, snatched a cloak from a confused Legionnaire and threw the tiny scrap of fabric on top of Paula.
In Quileute, I hissed, "Phase back now."
Wearily, she complied. Everyone else was so busy staring, I assume, at Paula's toenails that they forgot to catch me as my forehead experienced the cruel embrace of the sidewalk. It hurt more than my shoulder, so I didn't mind so much as the world faded.
I had missed Hezekiah's grotto, the golden moss hanging from the trees like silken skeins of a maiden's hair. The quiet sounds from the birds. And it was in eternal spring which was even better because the scattered wildflowers momentarily brought me cheer. I felt warm. Cold, too. He handed me a large icepack as he hovered over my recliner in our usual haunt. When I gratefully used it on my tender forehead, Hezekiah packed my shoulder with something that stung like the dickens.
"Old friend, did you have to summon me right then?" I whined.
"Sorry, son. I didn't summon you."
I removed the ice pack to gawp, "You did not?"
"Nope." He pushed the bag back on my pate.
"Not that I am not delighted to see you, Hezekiah. Why am I here? Bella needs me. And she's sick."
"Well," he stopped fussing with my wounded shoulder, hemmed and hawed for a second before pushing his glasses higher on his nose and pulling on his tie, "You passed out. I thought I'd take advantage of that opportunity to chat with you. Seeing as you aren't going anywhere anytime soon."
"I need to help Bella and Paula. Can't you send me back?"
"Sorry, son. You have used so much power in the past few days, your body," he paused with that inscrutable expression I had come to know forebode bad things.
"My body what?"
Hezekiah's eyes were full of pity.
"Well?" I could not help the crack in my voice as it elevated in volume a tiny bit.
He waved an arm so I could see as a scene appeared on the far side of our clearing. My family stood around me. Rosalie was performing CPR. And not on Jacob Black. Father was helping her doing the chest compressions. On me.
I made a mental note to Jugurtha, "Please schedule in time to be appropriately repulsed that we have made lip contact with Rosalie. Ew."
Jugurtha said, "You'd rather make lip contact with Emmett or Jasper?"
"Point taken. But Ew. I'm officially revolted. And what the blazes is going on with my shoulder?" I think the European werewolf had taken a chunk out of me, but I should have been regenerating. And I wasn't.
Jugurtha noted, "Should you not be more concerned as to why they are performing human measures on your immortal body?" Right. That.
"Hezekiah? Is Bella ok?"
"She's sleeping like a babe upstairs, Edward."
"What is happening to me?"
"You died, son. We're sorry."
"Died as in permanently dead?"
"Now that I don't rightly know." He tapped his square liver-spotted fingers against his bicep.
I turned back to the scene and morosely watched my brothers lift my body as my sister and Father continued to work on me. They had turned the second floor into a vampire hospital of sorts. And I observed morbidly as they laid me on a gurney next to a legionnaire who had an arrow embedded in his backside. That one did not seem to pain him as much as the twenty four sticking from the backs of his calves.
I felt Hezekiah patting me on the arm as I stared and the chaotic scene.
"This is another one of those damned tests."
"Yep." He did not even bother to sound ashamed.
Marcus entered the room flanked by his risen-from-the-dead-only-to-dispatch-it-in-spades sons. Three of them actually appeared concerned. Metie, on the other hand, showed no emotion. Good poker-face, that one.
"What is wrong with Edward? I felt his mind shut down," Marcus asked.
Emmett was stitching up my shoulder, and I noticed he wore biohazard gloves. And was passably good with a needle.
Father said, "I think he hit his limit with the use of his gifts, Marcus. I can't bring him back." He sounded awfully distressed. But he refused to stop. Rosalie, too. Sometimes I really liked the pig-headed part of my sister. Like right now. She would find a way to bring me back. She was smart like that. I stayed dead. Vampirically dead, too, to the consternation of all. For half an hour.
"Dearest?" Marcus called out for his wife, who appeared with Arria, and trailed by that old man who had been my bath attendant at her fortress. For a second there, I could swear Arria's face did the vampire equivalent of blanching.
Seth entered the room in human form, appropriately attired. Wasn't it getting awfully crowded in there?
He pointed, "Please put Edward's body over by the window." Seth helped my brothers move me.
Emmett said, "Why?"
"Because," Seth answered.
How helpful. Skeevy had seen that look on Seth Clearwater's face before on the day they brought Bella back, and did not intervene. He held back Decimus with an arm.
"Wait."
Arria, Marcus, Skeevy, and Vivinna stood at my head and started that whole odd hand-holding practice of theirs. Marcus sent a jolt through me that should have awakened every dead soul in Atlantis, it hurt so much. Glass shattered in the room as Grace decided she, too, needed to have a claw on me. Ouch. Even the bath attendant seemed to think it was appropriate as he cradled my skull in his careworn wrinkled and awfully cold hands. Had I been awake, I would have thanked him and declined another hair cut.
"What is the test this time?"
Back in our grotto, I felt something tugging at my coat sleeve. A woman appeared before me, a diminutive one at that, "Sacajawea, I presume?"
She nodded. I knew I'd learn nothing flapping my lips, so stared at her.
"Your next test is upon us," she intoned. Satan's teeth, were they all related to the Telecles clan with their timely pop quizzes? I would definitely have to conduct research on that theory.
"I accept the challenge," I all but snarled.
She leaned forward and put both hands on either side of me as her fiery hands grasped my shoulders. Golly that hurt, "Great power requires sacrifice."
"Yes Madam, figured that one out already," I shot back.
Then she vanished. What. The. Devil. That was a test? Hezekiah had told me that months before.
"What was that?" I waved my open palm at her footprints. "And I'm not killing Bella. No sirree."
"Sorry son, that would be cheating, which I am totally against seeing as I like you and all and the spirits never give you the same test twice. You have to find your own way on this one."
Women! Crazy even in the spiritual realm. Except, of course, for Jenny. And I wasn't falling for that "you have to kill Bella" nonsense again.
Hezekiah warned, "You have to be careful with Paula, son. She's been through a lot."
I'll say. Unarmed and wounded, she had hunted down a lost coven over a seven month period and had picked them off one by one like characters in an Agatha Christie novel. That woman intimidated me. She could give Vivinna and Arria, heck Genevieve, too, lessons in warfare.
"Why did you not assist her? You sent Teddy Roosevelt after me with a tree, for crying out loud."
He shook his head from left to right forlornly, like I was a pupil who had earned failing marks. "Edward, we did help her all that we could. She does not have a strong enough connection with us; otherwise we would have been able to do more." He paused, "Why do you think we were trying so hard to reach you?"
I thought of the sight of Paula, of the pain that wracked her wasted frame, of the disturbing images I'd seen in John Quill's memories, and shame spilled over my overflowing cup, "I'm sorry."
"I know, son. I know."
"How is her drinking European werewolf blood going to affect her?"
"Yeesh. I have no idea, Edward. None of our ancestors ever met one of those things. And we certainly didn't drink the blood of other wolves. We believe from the black bands that surround her power that she's in trouble."
You think? I wanted to snarl. Instead I said, "How so?"
"Edward when you summon the spirits, do you remember that I taught you to construct a shield?"
"Yes." Not that I had always used one. For months. It had seemed pointless as they had come anyway. When they had wanted to.
"You have not been using it. And neither did Paula. Not all the spirits that aid you have your best interests in mind. Some are flat out evil."
"Are you saying that I've been having the equivalent of unprotected spiritual congress for months?"
"Yes."
"Why am I learning about this now?"
"We told you multiple times and you ignored us, Edward."
Oh. Jugurtha and Starched Shirt Edward said, "They did. And you did." Magnificent.
"So why, since I am presuming that I have summoned more spirits than Paula has, am I not packed to the eyeballs with demonic forces?"
Jugurtha joked, "Professional courtesy."
Starched Shirt Edward crossed himself and smacked Jugurtha on the shoulder hissing, "Show some respect for the soldiery of Satan!"
"Why? I don't believe in them." Jugurtha needled. "They are just myths created by people to guilt you into not following your inner drives."
Hezekiah sighed, and pulled me into the not-quite-present as I drowned out the epic battle between my guides. Jugurtha had Starched Shirt Edward in a headlock at present.
Hezekiah said, "I think the birds might be protecting you. We're not sure. But you have been very lucky, Edward." Right. I stared at them working on my body, quietly crying inside, mightily striving to maintain an even demeanor.
"Those spirits, how am I supposed to tell which ones mean me well?"
Calling out, "Oh wonderful spirits that I plan on allowing to control my body temporarily in exchange for strength, on a scale of one to five with five being 'heck yes,' please indicate the degree to which you believe you are intrinsically evil," did not sound particularly effective. Although it was a good question methodologically speaking.
"We require condoms," Jugurtha sighed. Starched Shirt Edward began to howl and Jugurtha put his hand over his mouth, "Spiritual ones. Call them most holy shields against Satan, if you will."
"Fine." I grumbled to Hezekiah, "I promise to always be cautious in summoning spirits."
"And to work on your shielding," my teacher prodded.
"That, as well." I would forever more strive to avoid unsafe spiritual sex.
He began to shuffle to the nearby brook peppered with mossy rocks, "I've never seen anything like what has its teeth in Paula," Hezekiah rubbed his throat in the spot she had been bit, "neither has anyone up here. It's giving her strength, but it's taking it as well. Jenny says be strong. Sitting Bull says be crafty like him. Quanah Parker thinks you should kill every immortal in sight and run away with Bella and Irina, and that he's smarter," Hezekiah guffawed, "He's really taken with that Irina. President Roosevelt and Sacajawea both say it's time for you to focus on your little missy as well as your exam. Jenny and I agree. Keep an eye on Paula now that she's within the limits of the wolf ring. Bye now."
One moment I blinked at Hezekiah's wrinkled mournful mug, and the next I stared into the fathomless eyes of the bath attendant. His large hands were on frigid blue fire the color of the heart of a tongue of a flame, and I hurt so I could not so much as twitch. Grace's claw marks had ripped open my chest cavity and it pulsed with energy that seeped through it like acid. Aghast family faces witnessed the wound knitting back together, leaving a series of vivid jagged scars.
Seth held out a palm, and the wildfire of white flames that roared across my chest abandoned my body and wafted back to Grace. How peculiar. My heart started right then. Loudly. Protestingly. And, might I add, painfully? I watched my body suck in oxygen and writhe, held down by several.
"He'll live now, but have our seers watch that woman," the wizened man pronounced in unctuous Oscan. With a calloused hand, he patted my forehead absentmindedly, wiped his hands, and walked over to another table that held a wounded soldier.
"Thank you, father." Vivinna said.
Wait. What? And what woman?
"Bella?" I managed to croak to the satisfaction of the room as Rosalie wiped at me with a wet cloth.
I heard Merrisol howling five doors down as she continued with her transition. Skeevy left to go sit by her side, and hold her hand. I suspect she was the woman that the King had ordered watched. I could feel waves of raw power washing off of her. Arria had constructed a shield around Merrisol to keep others in the house from being harmed, particularly the toddlers who slept on Emmett and Rosalie's bed. My sister firmly believed that humans spoiled their children and half of what she saw was completely unnecessary. Rosalie had been shopping online for a nursery in between running medical tests on both Bella and me.
Father carried me out into the chilly hall. Despite the rumbling furnace, I felt the air hit against my goose-fleshed back as he ascended the staircase. His hand burned like an icy brand. It was still cold by human standards in the house. And I required new clothing as it distressed me beyond words being carried around in naught but my undergarments.
Jugurtha breathed, "My, oh my."
Starched Shirt Edward crossed himself, "This is most definitely a sign from on high."
"What are you two blathering about? I expressed concern for the well-being of my mate. As I should. There is nothing wrong with that."
Jugurtha stared at me like I was slow. "Remember the man that all the covens agreed would be king if they stopped fighting?"
"Yes, the warrior on high deified by all."
"That was him. It took Marcus, Skeevy, Vivinna, Arria, and Grace to even get you to the point where you were almost alive. But he had the final vote."
"The bath attendant is Larce Carthanai?"
"Stop being a snob. If the King of the Lost Covens is waiting on you while you bathe, it is rather rude to demote him to a mere bath attendant. He did you an immeasurable honor. Twice." True.
But no one said, "Hey, here's our King, and by the way, you totally stink and need a haircut," now did they? How was I to know?
"We would have come back eventually. The spirits would not have left us."
"Maybe. Maybe not." Jugurtha tapped his chin, "It's irrelevant really."
"Why?"
"The King of the Lost Covens literally raised you from the undead. You cannot obtain more of an endorsement than that. He's more powerful than Marcus. You just gained a home run in immortal credibility. And you might possibly, because of your nature, have gained more power."
"Seth helped. So did Grace."
"Yes, but everyone will think they followed his bidding."
Oh. Excellent. "Wait, hadn't I established a modicum of infamy with my power usage in Italy?"
"No, the immortals all think that while you were impressive, and quite conceivably a demon, that you acted on orders of Marcus, and therefore, were putting on a show."
"I made bodies vanish!"
Jugurtha shrugged, "Dead human ones, or weak immortal ones."
"I have birds that can cleave through scores of immortals at my beck and call."
"Yes, ones with Marcus' seal. Who is to say he did not order them put on you?
And simply because you have power does not mean Marcus will allow you to live long enough to use it. They have all been waiting to see if he murders you."
"That would kill Bella. It is in his best interests to procure peace from my clan."
"You aren't fully bonded, remember? And I promise you; almost every immortal out there would love to put that theory to the test. She's priceless political capital."
"Edward?" I managed to pull Father's voice out of the babble both in and outside of my pounding-like-a-jabbering-jackhammer-on-overdrive head.
"Edward, we are going to take you to Bella. Son, she is in bad shape, and I've increased her sedatives. We'll watch over both of you. Rest."
And so I did. The second he laid me on our bed and placed my body around hers, I knew I would feel better. And why was he dressing me? It was my wedding night. Sort of. Not that I would attempt anything, seeing as I currently could hardly move, but I could dream.
I sent out a last scan of the environment. The Quileutes, with assistance from Marcus' men, put out the fires and literally hid the bodies. All that was left of Maria's army to the east were fragments of soggy ash. A few stragglers who had been permitted to escape scurried south warily, glancing over panicked shoulders as they sprinted for safe haven. Paula laid a floor below with Rosalie and Seth fretting over her, trying in vain to close the wound at Paula's throat.
"Grace, can you please help Paula?"
Grace sadly indicated it was not possible. Paula had made agreement with wrong spirit, so decreed my minion. Grace could not interfere. I asked her to explain and was met with silence. Then a croon as Grace pulled a trick from my repertoire and sent me to sleep. I tried not to let it disturb me that Arria stood at the foot of our bed by Carlisle and a if she could cry tears she'd be teary-eyed Mother, watching us sleep. Which was completely improper. People should have privacy, you know. When did my mother-in-law become a stalker? How was I sentient while completely asleep? And as much as I loved my Parents, they no longer needed to chaperone my wife and I. Bella shivered and I sleepily pulled her against me ever so gently, as Mother put more covers on us. Phoenix was dead, two armies slain; I had my love at long last back safe and sound in my arms. Life, dare I say it, was good as the pain began to recede.
Arria said, "I will keep watch, I know you have much to attend to with your other children." Upon their departure, she constructed a barrier around the room, so said Grace.
Scrunching my nose at the scent of sedatives in her blood, I cuddled Bella's warm form against me. Mentally, I orchestrated a campaign to win my dear little algae lover's trust. Telling the truth had been absolutely disastrous, so that was one platinum rule that would firmly be followed in the future. No more truth telling if at all possible. Ever.
After months of unceasing misery, the intoxicating idea of battling wits with my stubborn Bella over such a glorious prize played a continuous siren's song. I felt the thrill of the hunt, the blaze of the bewitched. I reminded myself smugly that my vast age difference would serve me well and that Bella was never going to know what had hit her by the time I finished persuading her to be my bride. Although she already was according to vampire law. But still.
Hiding in her hair, I smirked to myself as Bella muttered in her sleep, "cold feet." Gratefully, I kissed the top of her head thinking with an unusual amount of optimism all would soon be well. In my own personal haven, I laid by her side absorbing the delicious scent of her. She muttered in her sleep, "Idiot. Grovel. Harridan." And I froze.
She possessed multiple seals around her soul, and Genevieve should not be able to pierce through. Fuzzily though, I could not mentally move with any sense of agility to test the notion. Grace slammed down a ring around the two of us that illuminated the room with an ominous glow. One that made the very vigilant Arria in the room jump.
I realized Genevieve was conveying her affection which she punctuated by spiritually tearing me from Bella's side and slamming my face against the floor repeatedly: just unlike old times. Sneaky woman took advantage of my weakened state, left my actual body intact but slammed my spirit instead, so Arria wouldn't intervene. Who did that? And I thought they were friends. For the first time in months, I was in too good a mood to care undeterred by Genevieve's misanthropic greeting. Despite my now acquiring the Grandmother-in-law from Hell - oops, I realized after that cognition breezed through my mind that perhaps she would object to that well-deserved title. But still. And Jugurtha reminded me that I had acquired two Grandmothers-in-laws from the fiery pits of damnation. Genevieve actually appeared in spiritual form standing at the foot of the bed just to the left of Arria who could not seem to detect her.
"Madam, I was just raised from the undead, and require rest. Do you mind? I promise to fight you another time."
Genevieve spat, "Young man, clean up your mess."
Spiritually speaking, I cracked an eye at her and sniped, "We've had this discussion, madam. And I am weary."
She pointed an accusing index finger, "Look at what you did to my beloved child."
"You mean the one you deceived and lied to all these years? That beloved - what is she after all - your niece? The one you kept from obtaining medical treatment - you being a doctor and all? You seem to have delusions of adequacy regarding moral standards."
She shook her fist at me. "Listen here, buster, don't you even think you have the right to judge me," she hissed.
Dream me clapped slowly, and ranted, "Bravo madam. I might be a wastrel who faked being in love with Bella to keep her alive. But you, her own flesh and blood? You and your demented brother have the gall to label me a profligate? What did you think was going to happen once the truth came out? And I never thought I'd say this, but I pity your son. You really must have hated him." Charles was a buffoon, but certainly did not merit this level of spite. In my estimation, this woman had reached rock bottom, and continued to plummet.
"Bella would have eventually accepted it. And I love Charles." I quirked an eyebrow at how defensive, not to mention ridiculous, those words were.
"Eventually? In the past few months she's found out her entire family lied to her, prevented her from obtaining medical care to improve her condition, and abandoned her to Renee's capricious fancies."
"We were protecting her."
"By allowing her brain damage not to be addressed? Seriously? You did attend medical school. Or was that a lie as well?"
"We gave her physical therapy whenever we could."
"Marvelous. I wish you had stalked her health with the vigilance you did my family."
"Young man -"
"My goodness," I interrupted, "what an odd way of showing your motherly love; cuckolding Charles without his knowledge, and hiding his other biological child from him as well. And you never bothered to ask Arria if vampire could hunt humans in their dreams? Congratulations you are tied with Vivinna for Mother of the Eon award."
Simmering in the prolonged silence, Genevieve stared at the ground for a moment, lips moving, most likely bubbling curses. Like a toothless dragon, she huffed a time or two in outrage, and then moved to study Bella's pale thin face. We both watched the rise and fall and heard each wheeze. A brief truce appeared to be in place.
"Her heart," Genevieve put her head over Bella's chest as if listening.
"I know. We are treating her for it. We will do more tests tomorrow."
"Why isn't she hospitalized?" She crossed her arms and sniffed disdainfully.
"Because the Forks hospital is currently overwhelmed with casualties from the immortal attacks. And Marcus wanted to make sure he could ensure her safety before sending her there. We'll take her first thing in the morning. Father and Fergus are over there right now attending to the wounded."
"I have never seen her so. . .Edward, don't make my mistakes. Fix your mess."The harridan gave a longing glance at Bella, the living ruins of her machinations. And mine.
Within my mind, I hissed back, "Physician, heal thyself!" as she faded from sight.
How convenient that she neglected to inform me that I also had to repair the ravages that she had wrecked in Bella's life. Aunt-in-law Genevieve refrained from saying anything familial-like, "Offer my best to your vampire parents." Or, "Congratulations on your recent marriage!" One thing I had to credit that harpy with, she never ceased to bring joy every time I realized she had flown away on her broomstick for good. Despite that whole silent spat of ours, my mother-in-law stood sentry, clueless, and I remained wrapped around my restless frowning wife.
Arria withdrew a cell phone from her pants and punched in a number. Charles Swan answered. "We are safe and well. And Paula has been found. I'm having men come to escort you to the Cullens." She hung up as he bellowed, "Paula? Bella? Woman-"
Grace showed me how Charlie drove like a maniac to the house with nervous lost coven soldiers hanging onto the handles and arm rests as he took hairpin curves at a remarkable-for-a-human velocity. Now I knew where his daughter learned how to drive. He did not even bother to turn off the squad car's ignition as he sprinted for the house. If he thought he was taking one foot into my bedroom and disturbing my wedding night, he was sadly mistaken.
Rosalie sweetly greeted him at the doorway, "Oh Chief Swan, thank goodness you're here. Paula has been asking after you," she totally delivered that line with an innocent face.
"How is she? And my daughter?"
Father closed the door of the ballroom filled with piles of cell phones that Jasper, Eleazar, and hundreds of soldiers were currently examining. They were creating some sort of database of phone numbers.
Charlie repeated his question, blinking at my sister as if she wasn't quite the sharpest pencil in the can. She had been talking with her husband at vampire pitch and speed. Father walked in the entryway just then, and shook Chief Swan's hand, "Please come to my study, Charles. Both women are stable. I know you want to see them but we must talk first about the heart condition that Bella has."
"I know about that," Charlie said, waving his hand. "I've been taking her to doctors for months." He batted at a tear on his face and calmed himself. 'I can't lose my baby girl. She and Paula are all I have in this world. Jake, too. And Seth and Leah, poor kids, they need a father. Pull yourself together, Swan.'
From Charlie, I captured fleeting glimpses of the past. I saw how concerned he became when he noticed her declining health, how he had taken a cooking class to learn how to prepare sustenance for her. He had even had Paula help him create meal plans before ...his mind slipped to three different doctor's visits where no one gave him reasonable answers. I saw her faint five times in her father's mind at home. Shockingly, when inspired that man knew how to run. He caught her every single time. I had images of him sitting at a table with her counting every bite she took, and calculating caloric values of her meals. Of him picking her up from school because she had passed out. Of him holding her hand in his own while waiting for test results, thinking how much her fingers were like those of his own mother.
His thoughts went to the last time he had seen Bella, as they had exited his car after Sue's funeral and that ghastly scene thrown by Leah. He had put his arm around Bella and had embraced her, "You know she's going to feel terrible in a little while. She's lost both her parents, and we'll have to be patient. We'll get through this. Don't forget to take your medicine." He took a bottle from his jacket and handed it to her.
Tight-lipped, she accepted the offering, slipped out of his grasp and bobbled over to a vehicle driven by Decimus. From his recounting, I could see Charles felt helpless and overwhelmed as he watched the disappearing car. For once, I could identify with Charles Swan. We were both bumbling fools when it came to Bella.
Back in the present, Arria showed the good sense to send him into a thundering sleep when he interrupted Father's explanation, stood and demanded to see his daughter and fiancée. Wait? Really? Mary Alice caught Charlie and they put him in another room next to the very drugged Paula. He and Seth were bunking for the night.
Paula sensed my scrutiny and attempted to push me away. Not that she could, seeing as I was the teacher and all. But I let her have her space."When I wake up from this we have to talk, Paula."
She answered in a clipped tenor, "There's nothing to be done, Edward. Go to sleep. Take care of Bella."
When the screaming started two hours later, instantly awake, I leapt from the bed, moved her against the wall, and shielded her with my body. I crouched growling in anticipation of an attack by a bloodthirsty coven or twenty of vampires or a pack or ten of ill-tempered European wolves - my hands green glowing with fury. Since I had been completely asleep, I thought she had seen something in the night, and castigated myself for being distracted, if a mere human could discern a threat where her vampire husband could not.
I whispered at vampire frequency to Arria, Father, Marcus, and the multiple squadrons of soldiers outside. All assured me in bewildered voices that no enemy lurked in the frozen woods surrounding the house. When my senses and Grace and Seth and Leah and Paula and even Jacob all confirmed no external enemy, I had been inconsolable to realize that her anguish originated instead from a beast that lived in her mind.
Leah said through the wolf link, "She's been having horrible nightmares for months."
"Worse than usual?" I asked. And no, she couldn't join us.
"Way worse. Sorry I forgot to tell you. And you better behave yourself around my sister." She showed me a few images that disturbed me. In our time together, I'd never seen Bella so tormented.
So I did what I had always done before. I put my hands on her hair and pulled her into my arms. And I watched helpless as she shrieked in terror and her birds began to awaken scouring the room for something to dismember. This was far worse than anything I had ever seen, and I had witnessed some horrendous nightmares. "She's fine, there's nothing to kill," I commanded the FitzArmy who blinked balefully at me.
A flying fist made contact with the wound on my chest, and I yelped. Gathering her flailing body into my arms, I firmly immobilized her thrashing limbs in my grasp, and started stroking her hair.
"I'm here. You are safe." I crooned while trying to tune out the roaring nerve endings shouting their complaints.
Given our bond, I thought that our old routine of touch and soft words would be enough to assuage her fears. My family understood when I placed a barrier around the two of us as I knew Bella would not want the immortal world to hear her scream so, although the sudden silence of it had frightened Seth and Leah into charging the room before Emmett and Jasper stopped them. Jacob paced outside Paula's door a floor below.
And when I had felt Bella stiffen in my arms and try to squirm away from me in vain, and plead, "I'm just a human. Kill me," I wanted to weep like a child, silently shaking as I caressed her temple. The little light in the room that immortals could sense emphasized Arria's high cheekbones, and the razor sharp edge of her eyes as she crouched by the bed. I pulled Bella close and rocked back and forth. Quietly, I grieved for the love I'd slain as my dear little one pushed ineffectively against me. Devastation took root, as I realized how I had poisoned her mind with inexcusable slurs. I trembled too much to be able to carry a tune to serenade her to sleep or even hum to comfort her. Bella's gasps fell in time with my broken beating shell of a heart.
Arria cautiously reached out and stroked Bella's forehead, which seemed to help. My dear little Grandmaster gradually settled down, and Arria lifted the shield. Surely the worst had passed. I did my best to tune out the worried cogitations of my relations as they worried within the walls of the mansion. And then, I feel asleep at her side. Even Genevieve left me alone. I did not even merit a taunt or two from Sitting Bull, or a thwack or five from Teddy Roosevelt despite most assuredly deserving them.
The same sequence repeated itself three more times that night, each one longer than the episode prior. And might I say, going from the darkness of dreamless sleep to hearing Bella scream felt equally ghastly every time it happened. At vampire speed, I noted my reactions were starting to resemble the startled cat in the cartoons on television as each time she shrieked I would leap from the bed as if shocked by a cattle prod and search for something to slay.
I had picked up from Decimus' thoughts that this had been going on for months accompanied by his loathing of me and worry for Arria's daughter. He recalled that no matter how many nights he had sat by her side she had screamed anyway so he had, at her doctor's orders, stopped disturbing her sleep. I now understood her deterioration in part, she was sleep deprived and terrorized by that toad stalking her sleep. No wonder she couldn't eat. With each incident, I realized the torture of being separated from her these past months rivaled the agony of watching Bella flee in her dreams from demons I had fiendishly unleashed. And it was completely creepy that Decimus watched her sleep, and let her shriek. We would definitely be discussing this issue. And boundaries.
Alerted by Emmett who maintained vigil outside, I did not protest when Carlisle and Marcus entered the room. Father administered a sedative to her with an injection while I held her still in my arms as she screamed during the third nightmare. He placed his hand gently against her brow, and swept aside her hair to look upon her tear-streaked face muttering, "Poor dear."
Moving to the other side of the bed, Father patted my shoulders as I held her. And he made me drink four bags of blood. Arria stoically handed me three glasses of algae. Rosalie insisted on taking my blood pressure as I was now running a fever of 102. And my shoulder smarted enough that I actually requested pain killer. Father managed to sneak a sedative in there when I was not looking and I felt woozy.
"Her heart can't take this." I administered oxygen to Bella with the clear plastic tubing in her nostrils as Marcus turned the tank's handle to the right.
"Edward, we'll take this one day at a time. She will sleep now. You have to be strong for her now and give her time. And you are a wreck. You have to rest."
The Gorgon slipped through the door. As Bella flailed about in my arms while I monitored the drug's course through her system, the Gorgon approached with a shining hand and said in Oscan, "Hush, child. You are safe."
The word "Salvus," emerged from Bella's lips as she quieted and relaxed.
Father had no idea what I had done, though, on the day I had left Forks, and I could not tell him in my shame.
"Edward given all she's been through in just the past few days it's no surprise she's having these dreams." He soothed. Father muttered something about cumulative stress and having to read some more and that he would consult with me the following day.
Marcus said, "Edward, it seems overwhelming right now but it will become better. She's so frail as a human and her body has suffered as well as her mind. She cannot recover in hours like you." Eerily, he caressed her hair exactly as Genevieve had done, and that seemed to settle Bella.
Father agreed, "Right now she simply requires rest, and time for the medication to aid her system," he encouraged, as he, Marcus, and Vivinna slipped from the room. Mother perched on the sofa by a silent Arria as I slipped into sleep.
When morning broke, I stroked Bella's hair like I always did to wake her. I hated to interrupt her rest, but she needed her next dose of medication. And we had to travel to the hospital as soon as possible to administer more complicated tests. I warned my family that Bella and I required privacy and erected a shield, ordering Arria from the room with an irritated glance. She left the house, much to my surprise. Arria, not Bella. Rosalie had sedated Bella moments before. She should be placid once I managed to get her to agree to be awake.
Bella opened her eyes, took one look at me and curled her face in the strangest amalgamation of revulsion, hope, and despair before trying to hurl off the bed. I moved at wolfpyre speed to block her, easily leaping over her hurtling form and catching her safely. Lurching backwards, she attempted to scramble from my arms, panting in fear. Despite that whole sedated-to-the-eyeballs issue, I could all but feel the waves of emotion pouring from her. Lat time I checked, I was not an empath.
"Bella. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you. Please calm yourself."
Admittedly, it was not the best way to begin the morning. She blinked at me as if I had sprouted tiny demons from each shoulder that chanted spells at her pitching fire and abuse.
"Oh no you don't. I'm not falling for that trick again. You are not real. You don't even look like Edward. I'm not telling you a thing."
And this irritating humming noise began and my hands were pushed two millimeters from her flesh. Not enough for her to notice, perhaps, but regardless it gained my undivided regard. The Fitzflock opened their eyes and glared.
"Get out," she whispered, and pushed against me.
Golly, my still-not-healed wounded shoulder picked that precise moment to send signals of overwhelming pain; possibly due to her hand pushing at it.
"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Bella dear," I gritted. "And I'm in my own room."
"Don't 'Bella dear' me, loser. You can't even talk like he did. By door or window I care not. Leave." She had been around Mary Alice too long; I flinched behind a calm façade.
So I gave up my dignity and confessed, "You were my first kiss."
She puffed air derisively through her lips, "Not buying it."
"I taught you how to float." She removed her hands from over her ears.
"Everyone learns how to swim. Still know you're fake." She actually stuck her tongue out at me.
"You are terrified of open water. You have a pen pal in Spain. Your Grandmother taught you how to embroider. You are bored at school and usually work three weeks ahead of everyone else. Liam taught you how to shoot arrows and fence. And you are the kindest soul I have ever known in my time on this Earth."
"You've tried that trick before, too. This is becoming boring." The scary thing was, she sounded like she meant every word. What the blazes was she talking about?
I blurted, "The key code to get into Liam's lab is 78429320482A223197F9ZPQW6."
She stilled. I pressed forward with my verbal campaign. "You killed a criminal to save my life with the blade Liam gave you, and wept about it the next night in my arms." There. See, I was a gentleman after all. To keep Starched Shirt Edward from hyperventilating, I proved my regard with murder rather than recounting the number of times I'd made her orgasm on that day in the cave. My cave. Not that cave. And I would never subject my wife to the indignity of having to endure multiple orgasms around listening immortal ears.
Then Bella lightly slapped her face, patted her upper chest and pinched her arm. "Oh God, I'm awake, aren't I?" She winced and moved her shoulder as if it hurt.
"That you are," I whispered solemnly.
She inhaled a deep breath and schooled her features into an awfully good impression of a composed young woman. "What are you doing here?"
"I am at my house."
"Yes. Why am I here?" Bella said that in a monotone voice. Perhaps the sedatives worked now?
"It was the safest place we could keep you last night."
"What are you doing in bed with me?"
"You had nightmares all night, Bella."
"So?" I totally knew where she inherited that tone of voice.
That was the point where my planned script ended, and words scurried away leaving me like the lone thief in the room as the police stormed through the doorway. We began a staring contest. She tilted her head and scrutinized me, concern fleeting across her face for a moment before being hidden.
"The last time we talked you could not run away fast enough. What brings you back to Forks?"
"You."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Bella you have God knows how many other vampires pursuing you at present. I cannot leave you."
Although the truth, that was, in hindsight, perhaps not the best strategy to employ, seeing as how it had been disastrous in the past. I reminded myself again of my need to adhere to our platinum rule of dishonesty in the name of our love. Her eyes glazed over and she stilled. Then she adopted that Liam-faced demeanor I loathed.
"Why?"
"How could you ask that?" I switched tactics and did not have to pantomime the sadness I showed.
My heartfelt plea met nothing but silence. Bella eyes searched the room most likely to see if any other immortals lurked nearby.
"Sue and Harry are dead. And the tribe and my family are being attacked. I don't have time to deal with any more games."
Sometimes you had to hurt the ones you adored in order to make them well. I had no shame in playing the Victoria card. "Victoria had hundreds of friends with her and they need to be found." I did not think Bella was in any mental or physical condition to hear about Maria and her thousands of soldiers that I suspected were coming our way. Even miscreant, deviant, semi-reformed, newly married serial killers like me had limits.
"Thank you for your concern. I've lasted this long without you. I think I can take care of myself. I have others who have helped." I did not like how the words, "take care" sounded.
I snorted. Her shoulders stiffened in outrage and she started to wheeze and grab her chest doubling over.
Like old times, I handed her an inhaler. She snatched it and administered two puffs, and placed it on the table by habit. Her heart rate slowed. That's when the twins decided to greet the morning with dueting wails.
"I hear children crying," she said.
Arria had, to her credit, instructed Skeevy to take Merrisol back to her coven to finish her transition, not wanting Bella to be disturbed.
"The twins have been resting downstairs in the nursery Mother and Rosalie have been making. Rosalie and Emmett have adopted them." That made her stop for a moment. "When you saved those children, you did a very brave thing. Why did you do it?"
"Because."
"Well, I'm here 'because.'"
She made no response. So I forged ahead. God, I detested talking. Now more than ever. I felt like I stood before my judge and jury - which actually she kind of sort of was. So I did the moral thing. I diverted her attention from the numerous failings of my character.
"You have a heart condition that is treatable, and Father wants you to take these." I handed her the first dose of medication which she placed on the table. My dear little distrusting one stared at the bottles.
"Bella, how long has your heartbeat been irregular?"
Jasper had hacked into the hospital for her medical files, but knowing her, she had probably been suffering for weeks before being seen. I had perused them over Father's shoulder, spiritually speaking, last eve. They were all worried that I would destroy the household upon reading them. Fergus, the immortal who had taken over for Father during his extended vacation, had overseen her care. In the chaos of last night, I had forgotten about him. He had worked at the hospital all night and currently chatted with Father in their shared office.
She stared at the bottles and made no reply.
"Bella, how bad does your head hurt?"
She rubbed at her collarbone. "I feel fine. You really look like you need rest. And what happened to your shoulder?"
Seeing as I was fully clothed and she could not see the bandages - that bombshell left me stupefied. Bella rubbed the precise spot where I'd been bitten - on her own body.
"I had a run-in with a few European werewolves when I found Paula." I seized the opportunity to look like the hero I was not.
"What?"
"Paula's alive. We rescued her last night. She's downstairs right now on the second floor sleeping. And your Father is here along with Seth and Leah." I had to be truly desperate to pull that trick. And I left out that whole, "Jacob Black is sulking downstairs," part because she did not need to be further annoyed.
"Where are Seth and Leah now?"
"Sleeping. They are exhausted from last night. They helped with Paula."
"What happened?"
I waved an arm airily; a perfect imitation of her father, although she refused to let it show. "Not much. Phoenix and his army attacked the reservation and were beaten into ashes by Marcus and John Quill and the thousands of soldiers we brought back with us. The Quileutes threw a huge bonfire and burned down almost the entire reservation." Her eyes widened. "And we found Paula over a hundred miles to the east being hunted by a lost coven." Now that I thought about it, I had no idea how that had ended as I had passed out and all.
I reached out to Jasper and said at vampire pitch, "Jasper, do I want to know what I did last night?"
"Actually, I don't think you do." Then he blocked me. Decisively.
Duly noted.
"Does your shoulder hurt right there?" I pointed to where she had her hand over it.
"A little and I have no idea why." I was not about to inform her of my suspicions.
Bella squinted at me and sniffed, "You have blood in your ears, but I can't smell it. I'll let you have the first shower." I cringed as the first thought that came to mind was, - 'Actually my sister gave me a sponge bath last night, so I'm fine.' That would go over well. Ew.
Searching for a safe topic I said, "I bathed last night." I walked to the sink and began to apply shaving cream single-handedly after washing the blood from both ear canals. "Where's your charm bracelet?"
She traced the carvings in the wood of the headboard with a finger, "I don't have it anymore."
"I do not understand. Did you lose it?" That bracelet meant the world to her. I'd have to replace it immediately.
"No."
"Then what happened to it? Did someone steal it?"
Now I felt morally outraged. Stealing from my wife was wrong. She ground her teeth, and stared at my shoulder, which throbbed every time I moved my arm.
Bella stood, scraped the handful of pills into her palm, and took them all with a few sips of water. I said nothing as she approached me, and pulled a vanity stool out from a corner and pushed me into it. Yes ma'am. She could push me around anytime. "By the way. We're married."
She took the razor from my hand, "Sit before you hurt yourself."
My sister had initially meant to modify the razor and had been vastly amused that my beard could be trimmed by an ordinary three cent human made blade.
Bella turned on the hot water faucet. I stared up at her in adoration, which clearly made her uncomfortable, so I switched strategies and looked pathetic instead, which came naturally.
She shaved my face slowly. A man could get used to this. And seeing as my shoulder screamed in agony, certain parts of me behaved themselves as my blood supply was otherwise occupied. She pushed my face to the left to get a better angle. I totally ignored that her hands shook a little. She was weak after all, and I a selfish boor in allowing her to shave me. I was memorizing every second.
"I know how much that bracelet meant to you, Bella," I pressed, "What happened?"
She must have channeled Arria at that moment, her voice became so frigid, "I put it in the coffin with Sue, ok?" Bella put the blade down, and folded her arms across her chest. My face was halfway shaved. I could not finish the rest of it, given my arm wound, I realized.
"I am so sorry to hear about their deaths. They were remarkable people. I'll get you another bracelet."
"You can't"
"Of course I can, I can get you one right now if you like," I extracted my phone from my pocket. No gesture was too small to earn her forgiveness.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Bella snatched the phone from my hand, placed it on the cabinet, and said in a slightly elevated tone, "Leave. Now." She appeared outraged. She even gestured with a pointed index finger helpfully in the direction of the doorway in case I was confused about the only exit in the room.
"But..." Approaching her like one would a venomous viper; I tapped her hand which made her lift her gaze to meet me.
"You don't get it. You can't just replace memories. You can't make it all go away with a stupid piece of metal. Life doesn't work like that for us mere mortals." With each word, it sounded as if life fled her and left an empty shell.
"Oh, I see." In truth, I did, thinking upon all the countless images of my mortal life that my human Mother had gifted me with days ago. Re-discovering my life did nothing to change the heartache of the loss of my Parents, even after all these years.
Pity filled her voice, "No, you don't. And that's the problem."
"Bella, I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I was cruel. Please forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you. I have . . . new gifts . . .that cause me to have a temper that can rage out of control. And on that day, I . . . What I said. . ."
"Of course," she interrupted.
I stared at her.
She picked up the razor and continued shaving me. "You can't help that you don't love me because I'm a human with pleasant-smelling blood. I get that." Her strokes were even, businesslike, in fact. "And at least you told me the truth. Of course I forgive you. Arria explained what a singer was. I appreciate how hard it has been for you to refrain from killing me. In your place, I probably would have lied just as much to stay around something that affected me so."
A strangled "Wha-?" was all my piteous brain could muster as a response.
Bella had returned to the "Stun the Cullen," mode, God help me. She finished the other side of my face in record time. I gawped at her. Then she handed me a wet washrag to wipe the traces left. When I sat there like a stone, she took it from my hand and dabbed at my cheeks.
"You did have a point in what you said that day." The cloth went under my goggling eyes which I unfortunately had to close momentarily, ruining my unfeigned astonishment.
"Yes, about that -"
"When I was seven," she continued as if I had not croaked, "I convinced myself that I had fallen in love with a drawing based on a story about you. And you sure charmed the socks off of me." She morphed her muscles into the mockery of a smile. "It seemed so ridiculous that an immortal would spend two seconds with me. By telling me the truth, you made me realize how quickly I rushed into things."
"Bella, I - "
She talked over me, "Arria explained how vampires can influence humans' behavior. So I agree that your . . .gifts probably affected me and helped me along with that illusion. Now that I know the truth, I won't make the same mistake again." She left the bathroom. Gaping at her back, I felt like someone had cleaved a limb from me with a dull blade and I merely waited for the sensation of exquisite agony to commence as a leech approached me with a glowing poker to cauterize the spurting wound. I lifted my phone and stared at its face as if the smartphone could help me. Idiot.
Jugurtha breathed, "The fact that she has not attempted to slit your throat should be recorded for all time. Watch her. And get up from the stool and go into the bedroom."
He said that like she had something devious up her sleeve. She was barely in any shape to string two sentences together. The Bella I knew never spoke that long, either. I sucked in a nervous breath and entered the lair of my dear little Grandmaster. Egad! I did not like feeling so discombobulated.
Starched Shirt Edward said, "Our dear little peach did not say she did not love you." True. But he was the eternal optimist.
"We have arranged for breakfast to be served at the hospital." I put on my coat and searched the closet for one of hers. And staring at the dusty rows of shirts, I remembered that I had moved all of her clothing to her house with Charles Swan. The coat that Marcus had gifted her with had mud on it, and the one she had worn last night from the emergency supply had been torn in the efforts to remove it. I could not have her chilled.
"It's ok. I'm not really hungry." She stammered, and backed up a step. The backs of her knees brushed against the footboard.
I stepped a pace towards her. "Yes, Bella, actually you're quite hungry. I can hear your stomach."
She jerked away from the wood as if scorched and lunged backwards. Unswayed, I took another step.
"So why don't you want to eat? Do you think you are overweight?" She couldn't be anorexic could she? I believe I accidentally uttered that word aloud as I saw her face transform and bloom into anger. I suspected from her reaction that I was not the only one who had wondered this.
"It hurts, ok?" she snapped.
Bella now had my undivided attention as I stepped forward to hold her by the shoulders, "Where does it hurt?" I couldn't stand the idea of her in pain. And she never admitted it if she could help it. And lifting my arm in that manner, outraged nerve endings retorted, was not a move I cared to repeat. Ouch.
"Lately, when I try to eat my stomach just feels in knots. And I'm hungry all the time. It's like I can't eat enough." She looked like she was going to cry. Although it was physically impossible, she tried to shrink into the floor rather than endure my touch.
"Have you been vomiting?" I kept my tone even.
"No."
"If you don't eat you weaken your immune system and the stress will have even more of an impact on you. We're going to go to the hospital. I'd like Carlisle to examine you. And we need to get you on an antidepressant at the very least."
"I'm fine. I'm simply tired." She ran her fingers through her hair wearily. I found it atypical how Bella avoided uttering my name. She swung away from me, lifted up the shutters, and took in the winter view from the glass wall.
"Bella, I'm a doctor. You are not fine."
"I'm not going. You're over reacting."
She crossed her thin arms over her bony chest. The shirt she wore made her weight loss all the more apparent. Pivoting, she leaned against the glass wall. She lifted the sole of her shoe to rest against the pane, and crossed her arms again.
"I saw you attempt suicide." There. I said those horrible words. Her face remained irritated.
"Right back atcha, Romeo." Well. She had me there. Sort of. There was no way she could know about my shameful time in the Puerto Rican trench.
Jugurtha soothed, "You were distraught. And it would have been impossible for you to die down there regardless. We would have had to be dismembered and you cannot light a pyre under water." Right. See?
"Bella, I was trying to save your life and that of my family in the Volturi's fortress. I am so sorry that you had to witness that. I cannot even begin to imagine how horrible that ordeal must have been for you."
She stared at me and said not a word. I was becoming frustrated. And not a little desperate.
At vampire speed, I approached her and put one hand on either side of her face, both palms flat against the glass wall. Looming from above, I told her, "Bella, I've already examined you and I know as a physician that you require further testing. You've lost so much weight that you are malnourished."
"Why do you even care?" She tilted her face up and me and stuck out her chin defiantly, "It's not like it's your business."
I didn't think it prudent for me to tell her, "Actually my dear little one, we were married and according to vampire law it is now my business." Somehow, I didn't think that would go over particularly well.
Instead I tried logic - human logic. "From smelling your blood I can detect that your basic nutrients are missing and you are low in iron. Your heart rate is also drastically different." A mild understatement if ever, but I saw no reason to alarm her before we reached the hospital. "I have already seen the bruises and cracked ribs that you have, thanks to the very dead Victoria." She performed a double-take. "Arria killed her and then threw herself over the cliff to rescue you. Your Mother has one devil of a temper. I'm guessing you never had those examined by a doctor." Bella looked ashamed for a moment.
"You know?" She whispered, appalled.
"Know what?"
"About. . . me."
She acted as if I had discovered something repulsive about her. Which in fact it was. But I loved her still, demon-spawned-from-Hades female relations and all. And let's face it, she didn't just have a skeleton in her closet, she had boatloads of them, just waiting for the opportunity to explode and startle the wits from a man like a fun house of horrors at the county fair. My bride was the apotheosis of what Emmett called, "high maintenance." But still. I loved her so. I was going to have to maintain decent relations with all sorts of unpleasant immortals for her sake. But she made the sacrifice worthwhile. High maintenance, indeed.
"If you mean your parentage, then yes, I found out in Italy while you were indisposed. None of us had any idea. It's why your . . .Genevieve had been warning us all along that you were in danger. It was a rotten thing for them to do keeping something that critical from you," I sniffed.
Starched Shirt Edward tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me Mr. Holier-than-thou Hypocrite, We have kept many, many things from her, too." Right. That. Well, in our case it was morally right. Sort of. But when it had mattered, we had told her the truth. Kind of.
Jugurtha stared at his pocket watch, tsked and suggested, "You're been staring off into space for two seconds now. Time to speak." Good point, clever man.
I continued, "I am sure they had their reasons. From everything I have been able to gather, Genevieve, Liam, and Jericho loved you more than life itself." Which was totally true. They died in her name, not that she needed to know that particular fact, either.
The soul of tact, diplomacy, too, I did not think she was in any condition to hear, "Your life has changed over night. Marcus Telecles is the most powerful immortal on the planet and you are his living human Granddaughter. And we're married. Surprise! Can I have an unfortunately non-instant orgasmic kiss?"
Instead I countered, "We also need to rule out that you don't have an ulcer. That could be why your stomach is hurting. And from your ordeal in the water," I couldn't bring myself to say 'suicide attempt' and she jerked at the word 'water,' "We need to have you evaluated to make sure you did not injure yourself and that you will not try again."
"What I do or don't do is no longer your business. Please, for the last time, leave so I can go to school and get on with dating my Legion of Admirers."
Despite the fact that I completely deserved her scorn, it hurt to have my words thrown back at me.
I knew better than to mention the other marks on her body because frankly, there was nothing to be done about them, and I seriously doubted she knew about them yet. And despite her fragile state, I knew I was going to have to push her.
"I can't." I ran the backs of my fingers along the shell of Bella's ear, and toyed with the strands of her hair.
"You can't what?"
Her birds scoffed at me, and I snarled at vampire pitch and speed, "Listen up, you yahoos, you failed to protect her in the first place and now she suffers. So don't even think about emerging from her spirit. She requires a different kind of aid than your lot can offer. And as her mate, it is my right by law to care for her." Sulking, they simmered but remained in place.
"You have a choice, my sweet. You can go willingly and have either Carlisle or Rosalie examine you. Or I will take you myself and conduct the most thorough physical exam I guarantee you have ever had from a physician." I could sense the goose-flesh rise along the skin of her neck. And I had no problem exhaling on her a time or nine.
Bella's eyes widened at that point, and she held her breath.
"Stop doing that. You'll only faint." Images of her drowning stabbed at me, the memory of her burning lungs, and the glass window began to rattle, making her jump. And inhale.
Livid, she held her breath again. Following Jugurtha's advice with Starched Shirt Edward patting my back, I tried to take in a few deep calming breaths of my own. Inwardly, I quailed as she glared displaying equal portions fury and despair. I could understand the rage part, but the anguish baffled me. I was her mate. She craved physical contact from me. I knew that for a fact. Vampire physiology said so. If I had to touch her and felt markedly better doing so, it made perfect sense she would yearn for the same, and that it would comfort her. So when my hands moved towards her waist, she gave up her toddler tantrum and took in another shuddering breath.
"You wouldn't. You're too proper." She glanced up at me and blushed to the roots of her hair.
I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Want to bet?"
And fine, it was perhaps out of line for me to run my nose against her cheek. And neck. And other cheek, and the crook of her neck. I wanted to stay there forever. Since my heart was irregularly beating I had to breathe sometime. I was only inhuman. She stiffened as I inhaled much needed oxygen - and even more needed beloved-wife-temporarily-speaking-to-me-again-singer scent. Belatedly, I realized just how tacky that completely necessary respiration appeared, given our months ago discussion of the significance of her blood's charms upon me. I ceased breathing immediately when I saw tears well into her eyes. Sighing, I pushed away from the wall, said, "I apologize," and produced a clean handkerchief for the tears I was sure would fall, feeling like a cad. When I could look her in the eye, I found my handkerchief unused, untouched, and unnecessary. Bella's eyes were clear. She refused to cry.
"You can't," She stammered - a plea and a demand. If she was going to be stubborn, I would totally win that contest. For us.
"Ah, my dear, but I can and I will. I'm a doctor, Bella. I went to medical school twice, for goodness' sakes. And I refuse to sit back and watch you suffer any longer, when you are clearly ill."
She snorted. I didn't even need to hear her recriminations for my appalling neglect of the past nine months. I could recite them on my own.
"Why Rosalie?" Bella seemed mutinous. "She wants me dead, remember?"
"If that were the case, given your recent behavior, why would you complain?"
She pursed her lips and breathed through her nose. I thanked my unlucky stars that I had that sound barrier in place, and proceeded to babble. "No, Bella. Rosalie wanted you dead when I first began courting you because she feared the Volturi would kill our entire family for breaking the law. And she quickly changed her mind once she got to know you. Rosalie adores you, Bella. She is a medical doctor as well. She graduated at the top of her class in Cornell. You need not worry about Jasper, either, when he's been fed. He planned on killing you because he did not like seeing me suffer from the effects of your scent. And that law part."
Jugurtha chastised, "That was not particularly soothing." Well, true. But she needed to be warned about Jasper.
Talking about my family's past murderous plots mortified me. She had to know they meant her no ill will. From a mere mortal's perspective, absent my protection, if they wanted her dead, she would be. Common sense said so. She simply used it to divert me.
"Bella, you are stalling. I have absolutely no problem with physically carrying you to the hospital. Your choice is to walk in there on your own two feet or be carried. What is it going to be?"
The bookshelves over my shoulder became the focus of her attention. They had been dusted while we'd slept, and Mary Alice had at some point ordered more chess books that had been unpacked. Bella appeared to be counting the new volumes.
"I can go by myself. I'm an adult." Her voice cracked on that last line.
"Time's up. And you are a horrible liar."
"Said by the expert," she zinged me with that. "You can't just drag me to the hospital. I'll tell my Father you kidnapped me. He's got a gun." I thought back to the last time she had used this ploy and my blood pressure rose.
I bit out, "Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for the hapless Chief Swan, I am bulletproof."
"Inconveniently so," her fingers tapped against the glass a grating nervous dance.
"For crying out loud, I'm immortal. Do you honestly think your father could intimidate me?"
"Yeah, because you like that whole blending into society part. Being shot multiple times in public would make that sort of difficult."
"His bullets would never land. Since my Mother and Father are friends with Chief Swan, it would also be churlish for him to shoot at me in cold blood without at least hearing a token explanation. And when your Father sees the results of the medical exam and has it hammered home to him what an abysmal job of parenting he's done these past few months, no charges will ever be pressed. Marginal bluff, by the way, further proof of your decline, my weak Grandmaster. I am done talking."
Bella's eyes widened as I removed my coat, and she flinched and held her arms up cradled around her head. She seemed absolutely panicked. Warning her with my eyes, I extended my coat for her to don. She refused to, offered her back to me, and held her hands over her face.
Jugurtha ticked off points with his fingers, "She is traumatized, she is mourning, you cannot expect her to be able to think like she usually does. And I'm sorry to tell you this, but in the grand scheme of things, us being unkind to her pales in comparison to Sue and Harry being murdered, seeing the slaughter in the throne room, and her being hunted for months on end by hundreds of immortals. We have to tread carefully. Push too hard and she'll stop talking."
Bella stood in her socks and wore no shoes, but that simply meant she would not be going anywhere in the winter cold, so I definitely was not putting any on her. I'd heard the phrase "barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen," applied to the ideal wife. One out of three wasn't bad. Although she wore wool socks. But still.
"Fine. If that is how you want it. You appear to be incapable of making simple decisions that are in your best welfare. So I will make them for you."
Using one hand, I pulled her away from the glass. The second our flesh touched, a blue spark erupted, and made her yelp. I took advantage of that and carefully wrapped her in my coat. Gently, I slung her over my unwounded shoulder as I had promised. I could hear her gasp as her broken ribs moved. Since she could not see me in her upside-down position, I did not bother to hide the wince I made. I loathed hurting Bella; but this would obtain her medical care, so it had to be done.
She muttered darkly under her breath something about being treated like an infant and how wrong this was, called me an unreasonable jerk, and fumed that I was further damaging my own shoulder. Wholeheartedly, I concurred with the "jerk" part; however, I begged to differ on the "unreasonable" business. Taking her for further testing was the most rational thing I'd done in months. Leaving our shielded haven would be problematic in her current mode. Bella totally was right on that shoulder business, but I decided I could handle a puny human, an adorable one, but still weak.
"Vampires possess the ability to hear far better than humans do. I have used my gifts to afford us privacy so my family and the assorted soldiers outside stay out of our business. Now, I will have to remove those barriers. For your sake, I will try to leave the house without my family having to witness you behaving like an infant. I suggest you aid me by being silent. If you protest, they'll decide they need to accompany us. And they'll find this hugely entertaining, as will the army that surrounds the house." That made her stiffen, and grumble something about injustice. Perhaps playing the "she hates being the center of attention," card represented an underhanded move, but it appeared to work.
Inspired by Skeevy, "Who ever misled you to belief that life was fair?" I mordantly asked, as I whispered the Quileute words to allow the rest of the world to hear us.
I opened the bedroom door and at vampire pitch said, "Bella is having a difficult time agreeing that she requires medical assistance. I think she would be more comfortable if you did not see me carry her down the stairs." That was the absolute truth. Well, it was. Sort of.
My family and all the guards lining the halls did a wonderful vanishing act as I carried her down the staircase.
Rosalie said as she got into her car to drive to the hospital, "It's your ashes if you drop her." As if.
"Way to go, Edward," Emmett choked as he whisked by at vampire speed. "You go boy!" I was not a boy, and I clearly did not require being ordered to take my bride to the hospital. Twice. My brother confused me constantly.
Bella struggled and immediately ceased when I placed a splayed palm on her backside. "I really do not want to drop you, but when you jerk like that it hurts my shoulder." Clearly, I should have done that move sooner. For moral reasons, of course. Now that we were married I could, when alone - which we were - totally fondle - I mean touch - her backside whenever I desired. I could hear mentally the gasps of horror that my human Mother would have made at such a picture as well as my lurking family and adjusted my grasp on my dear little raging one accordingly. Particularly when I sensed the company that awaited us outside. Given his temperament, it would not do for her Grandfather Marcus to be unnecessarily upset, so my hand had reason number two to relocate to her upper back, and I adopted the visage of a saint as Mother called that they would follow since Carmen and Eleazar offered to babysit the twins. And I totally pretended that my shoulder was not killing me the entire time. Darned European werewolves and their filthy mouths.
To divert my attention, my thoughts meandered to happier times. Bella had once complained that the Vikings were inelegant fighters. Having her draped over a shoulder like well-earned plunder most definitely made me reconsider that notion. And I stiffened as I extended my gift to scour the area outside, hearing the sniffs of an aristocratic mind or ninety.
"What does he have that I do not?" one name Seamus moped.
Her, idiot. I have her. I reinforced that point by making spiritual hands burst from the soil and pull him squealing like a swine to the ground, while encircled by his confused coven. They stilled when they saw the green color of the hands that the spirits happily clenched into threatening claws. And I would know nothing about the dagger-like fingernails the hands wore, or the venom that dripped from them, spiritually speaking, of course. No one, and I mean no one, was putting a hand on my booty.
Swan picture for the chapter:
http:/i953 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/albums/ae12/booksgalore_bookishqua/FightingSwans (dot) jpg
Snarky Summary: So in this chapter we saw Edward find out that Paula has gained a whole new following of disreputable arrogant Lost Coven hooligans and Eurotrash werewolves. The gigantic kind. With really big sharp pointy and, might I add, unhygienic teeth, accompanied by gingivitis galore. They offer Edward a biting farewell. Not that kind of biting. Main Edward, Seth, Leah, Jacob, Jasper, Emmett some Fake Canadians, and a legionnaire or two hundred wander into a battle. Oops. And Edward has some, ahem, performance issues. Due to stress. Not size. Or the cold. Fine, yes to the cold. And Starched Shirt Edward screaming in his ear.
Edward dreams of Jacob's untimely demise due to a heroic death while saving his aunt. Jacob envisions Edward's most timely demise due to a heroic death while saving his aunt. Marginal minds think alike. SSE and Jugurtha outvote Main Edward, much to his dismay. Marcus shows Phoenix a thing or two about the appropriate administration of pain management, seeing as he has his D.B.A. – Doctor of Butchering Administration - in it. Vivinna almost gets the last word. Marcus four sons, Eenie, Meanie, Miney, and Metie metaphorically munch upon the extra crispy remains of Maria's deep fried into ashes army. Edward fights in a battle to save Paula, gets bit by a trashy European werewolf, and is a spiritual slut having unsafe spiritual relations, and kind of sort of dies. The End. Kidding. Not about the dying part. Since Jesus is busy with Holy Week, and Hashem with Passover, Larce Carthanai, the King of the Lost Covens, steps in and makes a Lazarus out of our anti-hero. And Sacajawea gives Edward a pop quiz. Cruel wench. Bella and Edward sleep together immediately. Not. Bella takes a blade to Edward's face. Finally, Edward and Bella have a lovely first conversation sans shrieking, screaming, or sedating, and he drags Bella to the hospital, after palming her ass. Someone has to be the adult in that relationship. *sniffs*
I will be posting the next chapter hopefully within 24 hours.
Please review, poor Edward needs reassurance. He's totally after Bella's ass-ets at present.
References:
The title for this chapter was inspired by one of the funniest introductions I have ever heard in a speech. Prime Minister Tony Blair offers amazing apologies. Seriously. Belated ones. But still. Main Edward could learn a thing or two.
http:/www (dot) cnn (dot) com/2003/US/07/17/blair (dot) transcript/
There really is a Bring Your Child To Work Day. See?
http:/www (dot) daughtersandsonstowork (dot) org/wmspage (dot) cfm?parm1=936
Rodney King's question of "can't we all get along?" Inspired some of Edward's ranting.
http:/www (dot) npr (dot) org/templates/story/story (dot) php?storyId=97490927
Dante decided Satan deserved to suffer forevermore under ice. I read Dante eons ago. It was the semester from hell. Bwa-ha-hah
http:/www (dot) danteinferno (dot) info/
There really is a Tony Chachere's spice. http:/www (dot) tonychachere (dot) com/
Saint Sebastian was martyred in 287 by being shot with a whole bunch of arrows. http:/www (dot) saintsebastian (dot) us/martyrdom-of-st-sebastian (dot) htm
If you haven't read the Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkein, I highly recommend it. Emmett's complaint about "my precious" is a theme borrowed from it:
http:/www (dot) tuckborough (dot) net/gollum (dot) html
The Once and Future King by T.H. White uses the phrase 'might makes right' and is an awesome account if King Arthur. Two thumbs up.
http:/www2 (dot) netdoor (dot) com/~moulder/thwhite/
Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner makes for exceptional reading
http:/etext (dot) virginia (dot) edu/stc/Coleridge/poems/Rime_Ancient_Mariner (dot) html
Some of Edward's lines regarding Genevieve were inspired by this satire:
http:/www (dot) begent (dot) org/perform (dot) htm
