Elise


Exposure Misconduct


The Cullens had allocated a gorgeous new room for me in their perfect, grandiose new house. When I was escorted in, Esme gestured royally at the fresh drapes, emphasized the polished marble in the bathroom, and described with excruciating detail the origin of the bamboo sheets that adorned my bed.

I threw my bag against an empty bookcase and watched Esme leave. I released a huge breath only after I heard her delicate feet pad down the staircase.

The room was big, and I felt swallowed by it. The windows were large, but my mind morphed them into prison bars. Cold, gray, and meant to be gripped in hysteria. I rubbed my arms to comfort my sanity. Reaching for the phone in my bag did not help.

Status. The persistent one demanded.

I typed slowly: The Cullens have settled into Idaho for an indefinite period of time.

And your twin brother almost tried to eat me, but he reasoned through it well enough, so that's fine I suppose. But I didn't type that. Perhaps twin brother was too close of a comparison. Damon was cruel, and whatever was in his self-interest was always his priority. His intentions were always clear. Jasper? He took me away from the Cullens – for what? To keep me sane amid their overbearing tendencies? Or to lure me out and prep me for his next snack? No. He wanted me to change, so he couldn't take that risk. Bringing me out to his cabin wasn't to season me for his next roast. He wanted to make sure I understood the underlying situation—the situation the Cullens were too nice to put forward.

I had to die, and he would make sure of it.

I took a deep breath and hugged myself closer. I put that thought deep into the back of my brain and threw on a smile. I found Jasper in the room next door and teased him that he would be easily accessible during my death due to his proximity.

Jasper certainly didn't like being teased. He sternly informed me of Carlisle's deteriorating mental health, which was surprising to say the least. Vampires were physically impenetrable, but their minds were fair game to the realities of depression and anxiety.

"The sooner you change, the better for him. Until then, pick your words carefully, and make sure you know who's within hearing range at all times."

His expectations were unrealistic. But the sooner I changed, was it truly better for Carlisle? For the Cullens? Or was it better for Jasper? I eyed him warily. The Cullens would be in danger for keeping a human. If I changed, that danger would be eliminated. Jasper probably didn't care about that, though. I meant something different to him entirely. I wasn't a risk to be eliminated. I was power.

Jasper gestured for me to sit in one of his armchairs while he took a seat on his new bed. Noting the similarity of this room to his previous one, I could tell that he enjoyed the singular seating, preferably next to a window. I knew he read a lot, and I would bet this arrangement was going to be one of his prime reading spots.

Jasper blinked a few times. Sometimes too slow, sometimes too fast. His hands rested on his knees, then smoothed out the sheet underneath him.

"The Cullens have a lot of baggage," he started. "The more things pile up, the more we can be accused of misconduct."

My ears perked up at the mention of the term misconduct. "What else is there?"

His hands stopped their movement on the sheets. His words came out uncontrolled and too quickly. "Carlisle uses his venom to heal patients."

My eyebrows rose in awe as I processed the sentence worth of information Jasper baited out. While the Jovu had enforced a strict medical setting, it wasn't for the good health of humans. They had used us for their own debatable agenda. Carlisle's motive, instead, was to heal and protect. My heart swelled at the thought of the man. I wanted to hug him and give him a Nobel prize.

When Jasper stared back at me, I was surprised to meet a frown. This was not good news.

"Why is that so wrong?" I asked.

"It's a miracle cure that modern-day science cannot prove. If people start asking questions, there is no way out. This falls under the exposure misconduct."

Exposure misconduct? There was a man using his magical venom to better humanity, and it was considered a misconduct? How selfish could this Volturi be? And it wasn't lost on me that the term misconduct went hand-in-hand with the raid of the Jovu. Would the Cullens be raided, too?

"How can they not see how pure his intentions are?"

Jasper knew he wasn't getting through to me easily, so he picked a different angle. "If you killed someone, your justice system would charge you with first degree murder. If that someone was a sex offender, would the system judge you differently?"

Most definitely. "They should. I just removed a disgusting person from the world."

"Your personal justifications for your actions don't matter, because you will always judge yourself based on your reasoning. Yet, you will continue to judge others based on their actions. The law will do the same."

He wasn't wrong. My feelings about the matter wouldn't be a deciding factor in the verdict. Jasper tied that to Carlisle's case, where the morality of using one's venom to heal humanity is positive, but the law wouldn't take that under consideration when deciding his fate. I was curious about Jasper's morality. "So, when you kill someone, what is your reasoning?"

He stuck with his case. "Does it matter? You'll judge me for the act of killing, not my reasoning behind it."

"I want to know your reasoning."

His tone was bored. "Hunger."

And it was a boring answer. I suggested that he could expand his meal choices, and he reiterated that animals were not satisfying.

"You could drink from humans and not kill them."

Jasper felt incredibly passionate about refuting my suggestion. His arms flailed wildly as he tried to make a point. "I can't wait for you to experience the soothing pleasure that human blood brings to your burning throat. When you feel that, you will never want to stop. Your Jovu were incredibly disciplined."

My Jovu were psychotic. "Yes. Some couldn't drink from the source because they had killed a few of us. So, we donated blood for those vampires. What's wrong with drinking blood from a bag?"

"Everything."

I wanted to growl at this vampire. "My point is that you don't have to kill to fill your stomach."

Jasper stood up from his bed and sat down in the armchair beside me.

"I'm sorry. Are my murderous tendencies bothering you?" he asked sweetly. It could have been endearing, considerate. But not with the context of those words.

"Don't be a jerk. I'm giving up my life for you."

His teeth shone through his damn smile. "Who said it was for me?"

I was over him. "It's heavily implied. None of the Cullens have pressured me besides you."

And I had the last word.


Nevada: First Visit


Eleazar reminded me a lot about Carlisle. He was attentive, cautious, and showed sensitivity towards any pain I felt throughout the medical evaluations. Jasper surprised me when he had chosen to stay during the blood work. I wasn't a fan of needles myself, but staring at his tightly clenched grip on his book helped me focus on something other than pierced skin. A part of me had imagined the scenario of him leaping up and grabbing me, dragging me out of the tall windows, and running me straight into the forest. It was the classic Bella scene. When Carlisle had lifted the needle away and secured the blood, Jasper's eyes had snapped up to mine, as if he could visualize my imagination. His expression had been mischievous, and I wanted to talk to him and pry out the words running through his brain. But Jasper had only nonchalantly gone back to his beloved book.

A few hours after that, Eleazar and Carlisle had finished their invasive tests, and I was comfortably snuggled up in the passenger seat next to my biggest distraction from it all. It was dark, and the medical procedures had left me sleepy and exhausted.

"You should sleep," Jasper said from beside me, his hands expertly guiding the car through traffic.

Sleep was fine, but Jasper and I were alone. And I got to be the questioner.

I asked him about his car, which was seemingly an innocent question. He told me that it was Emmett's and that he didn't own a car, but our conversation took quickly took a detour down murder lane.

"I've never had the money to buy one," I said, which was true. "What's your excuse?"

"Cars leave evidence and they're hard to get rid of."

My tired self couldn't make the connection. "How is that important?"

"You are all very squishy. Your blood gets everywhere."

I turned to look at him, expecting a signature smirk, but he simply looked ahead onto the road, as if he had just casually mentioned his favorite sports team.

I tried to reason through it. "But no police force could ever catch you."'

"Anything supernatural should stay out of the public eye. Less risk. It's harder for vampires in this modern day and age. Everything's online."

And that probably gave the Volturi the chance to tighten their grip on their rule. Damon had mentioned the vampiric rulers to me once or twice, his tone always laced with distaste.

"How much do you know about them?" Jasper asked.

Not much, but enough to acknowledge the threat. "There are three of them, right? And you said their laws were more guidelines than absolute."

Jasper nodded. "Three leaders, but the Volturi is comprised of a large network of vampires. They have guards everywhere who attempt to enforce their guidelines."

Damon had always been wary about any discussion regarding the Volturi. The Jovu were guilty in the eyes of the three kings for what they did to us. And that would've been respectable from my end if the charge had been for endangering humanity. But the Volturi had disbanded them for the risk of exposing their race, not for the blatant disregard for human decency. Either way, they had raided the experiments, and I supposed I should be grateful. But the fear was reasonable. Damon got me out, and he was able to save himself. Was he a hunted man? Probably. But what was his gripe with the Cullens?

I frowned and turned the conversation back to his family. "Carlisle's really shaken up about them, isn't he?"

He began to tap his hands on the steering wheel. "Carlisle's old, Elise. He's been around the Volturi for some of his life. He lived with the three leaders for a while. He knows how they work. Aro, who is widely accepted as the sole leader, can read your entire life, memories, and thoughts just by touching you. If you get caught by any offense, it gives him the right to invade your thoughts."

Had the other members of the Jovu been killed on-site or dragged back to the three kings? Had their thoughts been invaded? Did the Volturi know about me?

"And with that, he can find other things that you did wrong," I said slowly. "They won't accept that Carlisle heals humans?"

"Not with venom. Though, Carlisle is very cautious with the procedure. Usually, he uses it as a sealing agent externally, so it never makes direct contact with the main arteries. You don't want to accidentally turn your patient, but that would take a lot of venom."

This was a miracle. I shook my head at the idea of having the ability to seal wounds, heal cancerous cells, and reconstruct damaged tissue. And it was a secret mission; you couldn't tell anyone. And all of these people were capable of this miracle. Even Jasper.

"So, if I fell down and scraped my knee," I looked at him. "And I managed to survive you, would you use your venom to heal my knee?"

He wouldn't, which surprised me,

"Sharing venom is intimate," he explained. "I'm surprised that Esme is fine with Carlisle doing what he does."

Fascinating. "Intimate?"

"If you're drawing venom, you're usually fighting to the death. The only exception is mating."

We spoke more about the concept. Venom. Sharing. Taste? It was a brand-new door I was peeking through.

"How do you know if you have a mate?" I asked.

"It's more primal than you think," Jasper went on. "Vampires and humans share the drive of survival. Our bodies make it a priority. To you, it's the chemicals that are released during your fight-or-flight response, or your desire to procreate with someone who can prove to you that they can further your species. To us, we can't have offspring in the human sense, so a mate is supposed to help us prioritize the spread of venom. That is why a lot of mated pairs start covens."

Carlisle and Esme started their clan, their mating bond drawing them together to turn others. If you peeled apart the inherent complexity of venom, this was simply the vampire reproductive system.

"So, it's just companionship?" I clarified, honing into the idea of mating.

"It's a little more complicated than that, and it makes us weaker."

What? No. "Did I hear you correctly? Weaker?"

"Your mate is the person you will die for. No one else can replicate the pull that a mate can. When a human falls in love, it can last for a day, a decade, or perhaps their whole life. When a vampire finds their mate, the underlying bond is infinite and unconditional. Humans can't achieve that level of connection."

Jasper had this all wrong, and I was the human. "All because your venom needs to spread," I teased him.

"Seriously. If you dig underneath it all, that is the only purpose of this impediment."

He was being too dramatic about this.

"What is the purpose of finding something that all of your enemies could use against you?"

"I think you're looking at this the wrong way," I said. "There's always a trade-off, I understand, but having someone that you can always rely on is such an important factor to your survival. There's a reason why our bodies crave companionship. That emotional connection is there for a reason."

"You can't pick your mate, Elise. Your venom decides, and you're stuck with the pull. The emotional connection is always secondhand."

Secondhand? "You don't have to romantically love your mate?"

"The pull you feel to your mate will elicit some sort of romanticism, but it's not required to sustain the pull."

The clock read 2 AM, and my eyes were closing. My brain fought the tiredness with frustration. Jasper didn't deny himself the pleasure of human blood like the Cullens did. But the Cullens figured out the whole mating thing, and Jasper was denying himself the primal right of a mate. What was with these people and denying themselves their basic needs, wants, and desires? Which was why it was nonsensical. Stupid things made you happy, and Jasper deserved at least that.

"I hope you find your mate, Jasper," I stifled a yawn and closed my eyes. "Contrary to what you think, I think it'll make you happy."


The next morning, the dead guy and I left the car behind and approached the Nevada cabin on foot. The morning was calm, but Jasper wasn't. He seemed agitated, conflicted. He had trouble helping me down a slope of dirt.

Once inside, I decided to question him about it. "Why are you so nervous about touching me?"

His hands perched on his hips, his tone defensive. "What makes you say that?"

"You carry me just fine, but small things like that require a lot of your concentration."

He shrugged. "It's not my fault that you break easily."

His dismissiveness was annoying, to say the least. "I think that if you perhaps stopped thinking so hard, it would come naturally to you."

"What would?"

I scoffed. "Being gentle."

He busied himself quickly with the menial task of arranging canned goods on the kitchen counter. "It's not in my nature to be gentle."

It wasn't in his nature to be anything positive. He was delusional, and so was I. But I didn't give up. "You said it yourself. Your minds are powerful. You can teach yourself anything."

He gave me a look, and I held out my hand. "Here, let me try."

I grabbed his hand in mine. Slowly, gently. My eyes watched his. "Do you feel how much pressure I'm putting on you?"

Did he realize that his lips were parted? He didn't say a word.

"It's light enough that you can barely feel it," I gripped a little tighter. "Yet firm enough that you know it's there. Now, you try."

When I dropped his hand, I was startled by how quickly my hand was engulfed back into his.

"Easy, there," I effused. I felt him cautiously relax his grip.

"Better," I coached. "Just don't think."

When I looked up, the most pleasant smile met mine. "You're pretty brave for trying to teach a one-hundred and thirty-seven-year-old man how to touch things."

One-hundred… and what? I was pretty sure my mouth hung wide open. "You're how old?"

Jasper's grip was gone as quickly as it had came. He dug through the pantry. Did he feel uncomfortable about his age?

"1860?" I pried.

He corrected me. He was born in 1863. Then, he sidetracked the conversation to lumberjack fantasies. I watched him chop wood for a while, munching on some of the snacks he had packed with us. When I went back inside for the bathroom, I rummaged through the duffel bag and pulled out my phone from the folds of my jeans. I locked the bathroom door.

The toilet cover came down and I fought a shiver as I pulled open Damon's text.

Status.

I had an update. I did. I fought to keep from biting my lip, because I was sure I would draw blood. Jasper was too close for any of that.

My fingers typed. Carlisle

Then, they deleted. They tried again. Venom

I puffed out air and flushed the toilet to keep my timeliness. Finally, as I turned on the tap, I typed: Business as usual.

I wasn't ready to tell secrets that cut this deep. If Jasper was truthful about the consequences of Carlisle's actions, this would mean great trouble for a man whom I believed deserved a Nobel Prize.

I dug the phone back into my jeans in the duffel bag, making sure not even vibrate was enabled. My eye caught sight of Jasper through the window.

I sighed internally. What sort of power would dirt on the Cullens give Damon? What did he want to accomplish? Why didn't I want to tell him anything?

Jasper paused his chopping, threw down his axe, then proceeded to arrange the chopped wood in a pile. I went out and sat next to my half-eaten plate of snacks. I smiled teasingly at the pale lumberjack. "You've hunted, right? I don't want another episode."

"Yes," he threw a log. "A bunny had to die so that you wouldn't have to endure any unwanted vampiric interactions."

A bunny did not die. "You didn't kill a bunny. That wouldn't have been enough for you anyway."

He lazily laid down next to me, examining the sky. "A bunny, a few deer. One mountain lion."

Now I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. "You kill that many animals to be normal around me?"

His gazed lowered to the horizon, which was beautiful from our spot around the cabin. "Not at all. Your blood isn't that appealing. It isn't hard to be around you."

I flipped my hair. "I love being called unappealing."

"It's important to take criticism well."

I swatted him lightly, keeping my face straight as I felt the pain of punching cement. Why did his skin look like soft marble? Because soft marble didn't mean he was soft.

He asked me about this concept of a singer. A pop singer? An opera singer? A shook my head at the term.

"Every vampire has at least one singer," he said. "As in, someone who's blood sings to them. It's the most delectable blood a vampire will encounter. Bella was Edward's singer. "

Every vampire has mate, every vampire has a singer. I looked at Jasper. Did my blood sing to him? Was that why he was often so reserved? No. His self-control wasn't that great. No, again. I couldn't make that assumption. He just didn't care that he killed. Perhaps I was one of his singers, and he exercised great self-control around me.

Then, Jasper asked me about Damon, and my spine straightened. "You said Damon drank from you regularly?"

The words Damon and anything synonymous to drinking, blood, and feeding triggered a Pavlovian conditioned response to protect my wrist. My fingers ran over the veins on my right wrist, assuring it that it wasn't going to be sliced open with unforgiving teeth. I swallowed. Damon had always picked me, but Jasper was trying to tie that to a deeper connection. "You think I was his singer?"

"I have no evidence of that, but it's a possibility. He showed favoritism towards you. If you were his singer, his self-control was honorable. May I?"

I hadn't even realized that he had asked me for permission. I slowly raised my hand closer to him. I was locked in place the moment his hand wrapped around my veins. He reassured me quietly that he was only examining. His fingernails weren't sharp, though they were sturdy enough to carve into thick walls. They didn't carve into me, though. They traced my veins. It was an electrifying feeling running up my arms, all the way up to my shoulders.

"Let me know if I'm putting on too much pressure," he whispered, and my brain was a mess. A vampire was touching me with my permission. He fingers danced on top of my veins, making sure he wasn't hurting me. My blood remained inside my body. His teeth remained far away. I leaned into his touch, relishing in the feeling of consent, safety, and belonging.

But then, it was gone. He let go. "You're not my singer. That I know."

The absence was like cool water being poured over my head. I resumed massaging the wrist he had gently tormented. The neurons in my brain were firing – unbalanced, disorganized. Confused. Then, Jasper thanked me, and I was in a deeper puddle of confusion. I asked him what he was thanking me for.

He was thanking me for letting him practice. "You aren't dead, yet. It's a good sign of my self-control."

Putting his fingers on my skin, above my prominent veins, was a test of his self-control? His fingernails could have easily dug through, and drawing blood would've been no issue. I could've been a pretty red fountain on this beautiful crisp afternoon.

But his nails didn't dig in, and his teeth weren't bloody, and his belly was still filled with the bunny, a few deer, and a mountain lion.

I stared at him. "I'm confident that you won't kill me."

His body language, previously at somewhat of ease, was now wound up tight. He leaned closer and towered over me. "What instilled that confidence in you? It doesn't matter. Never rely on it. Never trust anyone."

He was a drill sergeant shouting out orders, questioning his unknowing soldier.

"Not anyone? You don't trust me?"

His eyes were blank. "I don't have to trust you. You have no power to harm me, so my trust in you is irrelevant."

The electricity was gone, and so was the Jasper that occupied the space next to me a few minutes ago. The vein-obsessed lumberjack transformed into a defensive, detail-obsessed accountant.

I ignored the fact that he called me a weak, harmless creature. "But you're saying that I shouldn't trust you. Why? You've been very good to me."

"That's the worst reason to trust someone."

Was he refuting my reasoning to trust him because he believed he wasn't good to me? That he will not be good to me in the future?

"Why are you so reclusive?" I asked, annoyed.

"Why are you so naïve?" he retorted.

I inched away from him. "I don't understand you. You seem like you want to be my friend. You even act like it sometimes. But you always just want to teach me a lesson or prove that I'm not good enough."

And he continued to obsess over my wording. "Humans and vampires can't be friends. I'm here to make your transition into the vampire world smoother."

I hugged my knees close to my chest. "Lucky me."

But he didn't grab onto my sarcasm. "Absolutely. I haven't stuffed you in a closet and left you to rot. I think that's very lucky."

A huge breath of air left my lungs as I laid back on the grass next to him. My head rolled over to meet his narrowed eyes. What are you thinking? "You're doing that thing again where you use your murderous tendencies to scare me."

He averted my eyes and fixated on the sky above. "Is it working?"

"No."

But Jasper's Bundy* vibes were all talk and no action. Was he as terrifying as he made himself out to be?


*Bundy - Ted Bundy, a serial killer in the 70s who favored young women.

A/N: I apologize for the delay in updates. The world is hectic, and I hope all of you are managing through it.