A/N: I've been shit at updating on time lately, I know. I've had zero desire to write. I'm blocked af! Seriously nothing is getting through atm. Fingers crossed is buggers off asap.
Thanks, Kim for editing and Melinda for pre-reading.
xoxo
Black Swan
Chapter 26
"I didn't let him see me hunt," I pre-empt the tirade I'm expecting from Mommy Dearest.
She's waiting in the foyer for us, her arms folded tersely over her chest; it's usually not a good sign.
I relented and took Edward with me while I fed. I'm caving constantly where he's concerned now, and too readily.
Like the time previous, we headed east, but unlike before, I didn't allow him to witness anything. While he wandered around Sequim, I frequented the back allies and other less desirable parts of the small town.
I didn't kill, either. I'm still not sure why, nor do I want to delve further into it just yet. Still, it came with its own problems. I had to feed from more than one person, and taking a third of the blood I require on extreme thirst only made Edward's more desirable to me.
After feeding from the first vagrant I knocked unconscious, I staggered from behind the filthy dumpster and followed my senses back to him.
"What? You okay?" he asked after I located him in front of a GameStop and proceeded to drag him toward the nearest alley.
He quickly realized what was happening, and bending slightly down to accommodate me, he willingly allowed me to take his blood. The concerns I once had about unwittingly killing him have long since passed. I have enough control of myself now to stop before he's evenly remotely in danger, no matter how far down the depths of blood lust I plunge.
Still, he reacted adversely, and after healing the puncture wounds I created on the base of his neck, I pulled back only to realize he was barely conscious. He was sheet white, and I was forced to hold him upright while his knees buckled beneath him.
"Jesus—did I take too much?" I blurted, shaking him slightly in my increasing panic. I was positive I'd taken half the standard amount donated, but his reaction was definitely making me question.
"Bella..." he whispered, closing his eyes as his chin thudded to his chest, "put me down."
I complied, and after carefully lowering him to the ground and releasing my hold around him, he immediately slumped to his hands and knees with his head hanging low. He moaned softly to himself, and kneeling before him, I cupped my hand to his cheek and tilted his face to mine.
"Talk to me. What's happening?" I asked, my voice so compromised by concern, I barely recognized myself behind it.
His eyes squinted open and a drunken smile tugged slowly on his lips. "You're warm," he said in a hopelessly croaky voice.
"Good god..." I muttered, unsure whether to be relieved or annoyed at myself.
He recovered quickly, though. Within minutes, the color returned to his cheeks, and he pulled himself somewhat clumsily—with my assistance—to his feet. My blood was still circulating in his system, making him fast healing, and apart from looking slightly dazed and shell-shocked, he was fine. I, on the other hand, was everything but fine.
"What happened?" I repeated, running my hand over my forehead and through my hair.
"I think you...took it too quickly," he explained. "I just got woozy for a sec."
"You need sugar," I mumbled, severing my eyes from his to stare down at the open street beyond.
"I'm okay," he insisted. "You finished feeding? Your eyes are still...dark..."
I turned back to him, meeting his gaze and wanting to shy away from the intensity behind his eyes. "Go find somewhere to eat. I'll call you when I'm done." I took a step away from him when he reached out and grabbed my elbow. "What?" I questioned, glancing at him over my shoulder.
"You okay?" His brows were drawn, and whatever was going on in that head of his, it was obvious he was concerned about me.
"I'm fine," I assured him, breaking into a small smile despite myself. "Go. I won't be long."
I wasn't. Two thugs and one raging alcoholic later, I made my way back to him. After trailing his scent, I found him inside a pizza parlor shoving a large slice of it down his throat.
"How'd you find me?" he asked, his cheeks full of food.
I raised my brows pointedly and grimaced simultaneously at the repulsive way this boy likes to eat. "Ready to go?"
"Sure." He jumped up from the chair and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
"You need a doggy bag or something?" I asked, motioning dubiously to the half-eaten pizza with my chin.
"Nah, it's fine." He half-chuckled at my reaction before grabbing two slices from the box. "What?"
"Nothing," I conceded with a sigh. "Let's go."
"Your eyes are red again," he pointed out the obvious as we were walking back to the car.
"You don't say," I murmured.
"I prefer when they're red," he added, bending down to speak against my ear.
"Do you..." I said wryly, tugging my keys from my pocket and handing them to him. He likes to drive my car and I was happy to oblige him.
"How long will you stay warm?" he inquired after starting the engine and backing away from the curb.
"A couple of hours," I replied, turning to him with growing suspicion. He'd already asked me this, and his question was entirely too simple. "Why?"
"When we get back, why don't we..." he didn't elaborate, but his expression alone was explanation enough.
"Stop!" I warned him. "Didn't I tell you not to push me?"
"I have to," he countered undeterred. "If I don't say anything, you never will."
I huff, but knowing I had to give him something, I relented. "I'll think about it—but leading up to it," I quoted his own words back to him in reminder.
He broke into a cheesy grin, and unable to contain my own, I let it loose. "Oh my god..." I mumbled, wanting to scoff to myself from the sheer bewilderment of what this boy was doing to me. "Not at the house. In case you've forgotten, there are six other vampires who live there who will hear everything we do."
"We can go to my folk's house," he suggested, his smile only broadening.
"Fine," I replied a little too stiffly, but it's not like I was exactly averse to the idea. With fresh blood plowing through my veins, every one of my senses was heightened, and until this kid beside me came along, I had no outlet for it.
I left the car out front; there was no point in parking it in the garage if we were only going to leave again soon, and the instant we walked through the front door, we were faced with Mommy Dearest.
"She didn't, Mrs. Cullen," Edward immediately backs me up after my mother set her unconvinced gaze on him. "While she hunted, I ate dinner."
Her expression softens and she flashes him a warm smile. "That's not what I wanted to speak to you about," she clarifies. "Your father and I would like to speak to the two of you," she addresses me this time, before holding out her arm for us to follow, and while Edward doesn't hesitate, I'm forced to suppress my emerging groan.
She leads us in the direction of Carlisle's study. He's waiting inside seated at his desk, and when we enter, he stands and motions toward the couch along the opposite wall. "Please have a seat, Edward."
Edward takes it apprehensively before gazing up at me with a heavily knotting brow. I choose to stand.
"What's this about now?" I ask after expelling a deliberate breath.
"Since Edward will be returning home soon, I think, Bella, it would be wise if you stop feeding him your blood," Carlisle replies stoically after once more sitting himself behind his mahogany desk.
"Fine," I answer casually, surprised it was so simple.
"—I-I'm not going home," Edward immediately breaks in and there's an edge of desperation to his voice; something he reiterates further by pulling himself to his feet beside me.
"It will only be for the present time, Edward," Carlisle assures him patiently. "It's important that you continue to maintain a normal front."
Shaking his head, Edward reaches out and grabs my hand. "You don't understand, Dr. Cullen. My-my mother's always resented moving to Forks because of me, and my dad's entire life is his job, I..."
"Edward." He sighs before pointedly making eye contact with me, and it's not exactly hard to ascertain what he's thinking. He blames Edward's unusual attachment squarely on me. "Have you decided on a date, Bella?"
"After graduation," I answer matter-of-factly.
"Edward?" Carlisle turns to him for validation.
He shrugs petulantly. "That's fine, I just—"
"Edward!" I interject. "Stop it—it's not as though you won't see me."
"Sweetheart," Esme speaks up just as he opens his mouth to continue arguing. "It's only for a couple of months, and like Carlisle said, it's important that you don't arouse any suspicions."
With a defeated sigh, Edward bows his head and lets it go. "Yeah, I know..."
"Edward," Carlisle continues, "after the effects of Bella's blood wears off, all the sleep you've missed will catch up on you. Your parents are bound to notice you sleeping three days straight."
"They wouldn't notice if I wasn't sleeping," he explains, releasing my hand to shove both of his in the pockets of his jeans.
"But they will notice the change in you," Carlisle adds tactfully. "Bella's blood has awarded you with more than sleepless nights. Your senses are heightened, your eyes are sharper, and your strength has doubled. Around our family, it more or less goes without notice, but around humans it won't."
Edward pauses for a moment as though contemplating it further, before he nods slowly, but it's clear he's not happy about it.
"Is that all you wanted to speak to us about?" I ask, and with a sedate-sounding sigh, Carlisle tilts his head in affirmation.
"We'll discuss his turning more when the time comes."
. . .
"I thought I had to move in with you," Edward mumbles as he follows after me up the stairs toward my room. "What was the point of signing the contract if you're making me go back to my folk's home?"
"That's when you were just going to be my pet," I reply with an edge of exasperation behind my voice. I'm constantly repeating myself where he's concerned. It's human nature, though. They believe if they ask the same questions enough the answers will eventually change.
He huffs, and when I turn to glance at him over my shoulder, I see that he's scowling.
"No tantrums," I warn him.
"I'm not having a tantrum!" he retorts.
"Oh, stop it. You're behaving like a child," I point out, rolling my eyes.
"I don't like being away from you. It makes me fucking...on edge," he snaps this time jerking his head away he drags his fingers through his hair.
"I'll come and keep you company at nights," I say, my tone a tad too condescending.
"I'll be asleep," he mutters in some kind of accusation; as though it were my idea to stop giving him my blood. Carlisle's right, though. There's been a discernible change to his appearance the last several days. He's even more handsome than he usually is.
With a pointed sigh, I stop at the landing and fold my arms across my chest. "Go take a look at yourself in the mirror and tell me if you notice anything."
He jerks a shoulder. "So, I'll tell them I got contacts. They believe me at school."
"Do you think this is a game?" I demand, becoming impatient with his whining. "Or would you willingly place my entire family in danger just to play those idiotic video games with Emmett every night?"
He opens his mouth, but immediately falters. "That's...that's not what I mean...I just—"
"We're not talking about this!" I put my foot down before returning to my room.
He follows again dolefully, sitting down on my daybed and gazing at me steadily. "Bella..." he mumbles.
"What?" I ask, dropping my forehead to my palm and sighing minutely to myself. He is completely exhausting me.
"I love you."
I sigh a second time; momentously, this time. "I know you do." My voice softens, and I sit myself beside him and place my hand to his knee. "Just be patient, okay?"
A smile ghosts on his lips and his shoulder's visibly relax. "You love me, too?" he asks, sounding a little too vulnerable for me to rationalize.
"You're my mate, aren't you?" I say ruefully, playfully slapping his cheek. "No more word games, remember?"
His brow knots and he fights the obvious urge to grin. "Why do you always think I'm playing word games?"
"Because you do it constantly," I reply dryly. "You're too clever for your own good." I move to pull myself to my feet, when in a single motion, he grabs my hand and pulls me on his lap.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice falling to a murmur as he curls his arms around my waist.
"Just stay put for a while," he replies, tightening his grip and resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Hmm..." I wrap my hands over his, enjoying the warmth of him encasing me.
"You don't put up any resistance anymore," he mumbles after a moment, sounding distracted.
"What?" I ask with open amusement.
"I mean, not that long ago you wouldn't let me budge you an inch."
"Would you like me to go back to that?" I turn my head to meet his gaze from my periphery.
His breath gushes from his nose and he breaks into an immediate smile. "No. Fuck, it's still weird..."
"What is?"
"You feel like this delicate little thing in my arms."
"Because you've bought into the illusion that I'm harmless." I'm repeating myself again.
"I know," he replies out of some kind of irony.
"And little thing? We've been over that already, junior."
He groans openly in reaction. "No more junior."
"No more comparisons to flower petals," I counter drolly, and he laughs this time.
"You feel like a flower petal but you have a glare that could sink a thousand ships." His laughter increases, and what he's finding so amusing, I have no idea.
"Okay...You wanna let me go now?" Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I half turn to face him.
"You first." He smirks, and rolling my eyes, I jerk on his earlobe. He pulls out all stops not to react to it, but fails. "We gonna go back to my folks home?" He doesn't miss a beat and I almost balk.
"Are you fucking with me right now?" I ask, scoffing out my near disbelief. This boy is hornier than a tomcat.
"I told you, I'd like to, but you keep fighting me on it," he says with a cheeky grin.
"I remember," I say cynically, "and five minutes later, I found you face-down with Lauren Mallory!"
"I'd just met you—it was either her or my hand."
"Glad to know I'm so easily substituted."
"You were in my head the whole time."
"Do you expect me to be flattered?" I arch a brow, and he laughs again, half beneath his breath this time.
"That was the last time, you know." He releases a hand from around me to rub his forehead.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, the next day you tried to kill me, and then you were gone for a while, and then you tried to kill me again, and...here we are." He raises his eyebrows waiting for me to get the punchline, but I'm not falling for it.
"Am I supposed to pity you, or something?
He scoffs, but I'm not sure of his meaning, nor does he elaborate on it. "How long has it been for you?"
"I told you already, I'm a virgin."
"You know what I mean..."
I ponder it for a moment before answering. "I don't consider that sex. It was just an inventive way to kill them while satisfying my curiosity."
His expression becomes almost dazed, before he shakes his head. "Jesus, so they died from you..." He can't finish.
"Not exactly, but I broke a few pelvises along the way." I smirk to myself from more than one memory.
His face pales, and I'm forced to suppress the desire to laugh. "Am I in danger of...?"
"Maybe," I allude, running my index finger across his jawline.
He gazes at me for several moments before he scoffs, evidently deciding to call my bluff. "You're just trying to spook me."
"If you say so..." I pull myself languidly from his lap. "Who gave you my cell number, by the way?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Do you still have it saved?"
"Should do..." Getting to his feet, he grabs his iPhone and scrolls through it for a moment before holding it out in display.
My name and number are all that's written in the text, but it's the number on the top of the screen that immediately makes me see red. "ALICE!"
. . .
"OW!" Edward bursts after the sixth consecutive time I gripped his forearm the instant his fingers came into contact with my breast.
"It's a reflex," I explain with a sigh, becoming just as frustrated as he is.
"This is hopeless," he mutters to himself.
"It's sixty-eight years of habit. Do you think I can just throw it off in five minutes?—and I heard that!" I scowl at him.
He groans loudly, and bowing his head, he drags his hand over his forehead and through his hair. "We're getting nowhere."
"This isn't exactly getting me in the mood."
"What does get you in the mood?" he puts to me, in the midst of one of his tantrums again.
"What do you think?" I reply sarcastically.
He scoffs. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm sick of being your juice box all the damn time."
"Maybe I'm sick of you!" I respond in kind, pulling myself from his bed beside him less than impressed. "If all you're after is sex, go hit up Lauren, and don't forget to think about me while you're fucking her."
His head snaps up and he actually glares at me. "You're a bitch."
My patience severs, and in an instant, I'm against him, pinning him back against his mattress. "I'm fast growing tired of your hissy-fits, little boy," I practically growl.
He only stares at me for a moment, his entire expression smoothing out in surprise. "Holy shit," he utters, before a discernible smirk grows lazily across his face. "That was fucking hot."
I huff out my continued disbelief over him and slowly shake my head. "You're killing me."
After relaxing my grip on both his wrists, he pulls a hand free and snakes it around the nape of my neck. "I'm sorry," he mumbles half a second before he merges his lips with mine.
Kissing is fine. I can manage kissing—I even enjoy it. Sure, my fangs draw and I accidentally bite him more than once, but it's so easy to lose myself with him and that too warm flesh of his. That is, of course, until he rolls his body on top of mine, and I feel that very obvious, implacably hard male organ of his behind the material of his jeans.
In bone-crushing speed, I flip him over until I'm straddled over him, my hands once again around his wrists, restraining him. "If this ever happens between us, I won't be beneath you," I almost strangle out, the tone of my voice hard and final.
Edward's mouth falls open, but without a word, he closes it again and hesitates. "Bella..." be begins apprehensively. "What did they do to you?"
I don't answer, and without releasing him, I glance toward the partially open window.
"Did...they rape you?" His voice loses volume, and with an impatient huff, I turn back to face him.
"You've asked me that already."
"But they tried to." It's not a question this time.
I half nod in admission, and expelling a breath, I pull myself from over him and sit on the edge of his bed.
"Bella..." He moves beside me and takes my hand, attempting to pull me closer to him. I don't allow him to this time. "I'd never do that to you. You know that, right?" He's serious, incredibly so, but I still nearly laugh.
"You forgot again?" I tilt my head in emphasis when he flashes me a look of confusion.
It only takes a moment or two for recollection to hit him. "I...shit." He shakes his head quickly to himself. "I mean..."
"I know what you mean," I concede, reaching out to tug gently on a wayward strand of his hair. "If I was human, you wouldn't..." I abandon it in a murmur, my eyes finding his untidy hardwood floor.
"How about I promise you when I'm a vampire I'll never do anything like that to you?" I glance back up at him, and as his eyes meet mine, he pulls no stops on the charm, but I still laugh; I can't help it. "Why is that funny?"
"You ever do and you'll quickly regret it," I say, though I'm not serious.
"I wouldn't—Bella, what?"
"It's highly unlikely you'll be stronger than I am," I state matter-of-factly.
He blinks, quickly falling back into confusion. "But I'm bigger...I'm..."
"Male?" I finish for him, cocking a brow.
"Yeah... What?"
"You'll be prettier than I am, bucko, but I'll still be stronger."
"How do you know?" he puts to me, clearly not convinced.
"I was born into this life with a lot of anger and an overwhelming desire for vengeance. Your emotions at the time of being turned determine a lot about what kind of immortal you'll be."
His brow knots and he pauses to contemplate it. "So, Emmett's not as strong as he is because of his build?"
"He's as strong as he is because he was pissed off he couldn't fight off the grizzly bear that killed him. Strength was on his mind as he was transforming. It's just a coincidence that he's so big."
He falls quiet again, the cogs in his brain clearly turning over. "So...I'm just going to be a pretty boy who won't be as strong as my vampire bride," he mutters, and he's not happy about it at all.
"A mind-reading pretty boy," I clarify, struggling to hold off my laughter, because vampire bride? This boy watches way too many movies.
"I can do that now," he dismisses with that jerky, one-shouldered shrug of his.
"Every ability you have as a human will carry over and be enhanced a hundredfold. You'll be an incredibly gifted vampire."
"Still..." he mumbles, bowing his head and running his hand to the back of his neck, "how the hell am I supposed to protect you?"
"I can protect myself, Clark Gable," I point out wryly. "Good god, you're not going to force 1950s sexual politics on me, are you? I lived through it, you forget."
He scoffs to himself and shakes his head. "I haven't forgotten, but... Never mind..."
"Has anyone ever told you, you think entirely too much?" I say with a definitive affection behind my words—something he notices.
He smiles at me warmly and backtracks. "Who's Clark Gable?"
"You don't know who Clark Gable is?" I ask dubiously.
"...That guy from that...movie...?"
"Yes, he's that guy from that movie," I say dryly.
He huffs. "You know what I mean—stop doing that!"
"Doing what?"
"Making me feel like an idiot." His tantrum is setting in again, and despite myself, I almost laugh.
"Do I—"
"I might not have eighty-six years of lived experience but I'm not stupid," he cuts me off.
"I don't think you're stupid," I assure him truthfully, because I don't. "You realize you'll more than likely be smarter than I am, right?"
"Yeah?" He tilts his head in thought. "I'd rather be stronger," is his conclusion.
I can only shake my head. "You and your pride."
He shrugs again but doesn't reply.
"You were supposed to be feeling me up, and now you're turning mopey over what kind of vampire you'll be," I attempt to change the mood. He's a definite enigma this boy, and I find it hard to believe I was actually prepared to kill him at one point.
He turns to me, the grin reappearing across his face. "You going to break my arm if I do?"
"Possibly," I say lightly, flicking his chin. "You're too handsome to pout, so stop it."
"Okay," he obliges me, leaning slightly toward me when he stops himself. "...Bella?"
"Hmm?"
He gazes steadily at me, his expression completely reversing. "Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?"
A/N: Remember I said Bella would mellow?
Hoped you enjoyed and thanks for reading.