The Fate of an Englishman
Summary: For the last 18 years Alistair has felt a pull in his body, tugging him to one central place. He ignores the pull, until one day it stops.
Pairing: Bella/Alistair
AN: I apologize for my inactiveness. Devil's Darlin' Chapter 9 will be posted some time this week. I've had some writer's block and have been busy with work and a few other things. But here I am. :)
On September 13, 1987, Alistair was struck stupid. It was late in the evening when it happened, a strong force pulling him down to the wet, soggy Earth. It made him wary, and quite freaked the fuck out. He ignored it, moving south of the pull, running away from whatever deadly force that awaited him.
Alistair never searched for anything, or anyone. This only meant that someone or something was searching for him. He preferred to stay off the grid, bouncing from country to country, state to state. In 1987 he was in England. He ran to France a year later.
Ten years later he was South America.
Five years later he moved to the states, the pull in his mind and heart tearing at the seams until it was eased just by stepping foot in the United States. He didn't understand it. The pull bounced around a lot, from the South West to the North West and like that every few months to a year.
Alistair avoided the whole west of the United States like the plague. He dare didn't get caught up in its path. It was a pattern. Around the summertime, this pull would strain before stopping, like a rubber band. Then a month after that, it would draw itself in before staying put for a few months until the winter, the rubber band would repeat this action for years, until at the 17-year mark. It stopped.
Alistair was in Tennessee ready to make his leave to Wisconsin, anticipating the return of the pull when it never came. He was looking at the clock, counting the months. Winter was rolling around, and it was the usual time the pull moved down South.
It never happened. It intrigued him a bit. Why did the pattern change after 17 years? Could he now breath in relief? The pull never ventured more than it did, never followed him, which was also very confusing. Alistair waited for the Spring of 2005, growing more suspicious of this pull as it never moved.
He made his plan to leave the states that following morning.
On September 17, 2005, the moment Alistair left his little place of solitude, everything vanished. Everything stopped. The pull was no longer. He should have been happy. He should have been elated by that. He was held by something for 18 years, betraying his vampiric body against his will.
What right did it have to just cut him loose?
This time he searched, closing his eyes, feeling for whatever, this was. He knew it was in Washington.
Forks
His brows crinkled. An old friend once lived there, not anymore though. He seemed to travel down to California the same day the pull stopped its tugging.
Alistair traveled to this Forks, running his way through the woods unseen and unnoticed following the last trace of this pull. He didn't know what it was. But he planned to give it a piece of his mind, maybe even destroy it for running him all over God's green earth.
He didn't know what he would find, but a human was not one of them.
She was in the middle of the forest, hand laying across her heart, brown hair splayed around her like a wave. This? This thing had him pinned to the States? Running from country to country? He silently hopped down from a tree, his red eyes narrowing at her form. He could smell salt in the air, most likely from the beach not too far away.
Should he expose himself? Should he appear in front of this human and drain her dry just for giving his life hell? How did she do it? Why did she do it? Was she aware? Who was she? His nose wrinkled at the faint scent of Cullen, and he wondered why she'd be in the same area as a predator.
The scent was very faint though, having not been in the area for at least a few hours. He twitched with what to do, knowing that right now he should leave. Never return. He could also kill her and never worry about this wretched pull ever again.
But Alistair was careful. Although how much trouble could one get into for one missing girl? Girls went missing all the time.
Something within him was telling him to do it. To jerk that little slip of a human off her the ground and demand why she would do such a thing to him. Demand to know what she was because no human had ever had a hold on him. No human could find him.
That's when he realized something. The human's heart was silent.
The human was dead.
Blood still rushed through her veins though, slowly. She had only a minute at best before she could no longer be resuscitated.
Alistair for some reason was angry. How dare she die? How dare this human die after putting him through hell for 18 years? Like a puppet?
He rushed forward, staring down at the pale thing before him. Her eyes were closed, mouth set in a frown. With probably more force than he should have, he brough his hand down to her chest, glaring down at her, "Wake, you unfathomable human," He growled, his hand coming down once more, the force kickstarting her heart, her eyes shooting open, a gasp falling from her lips as she sucked in air.
Alistair grabbed the yellow jacket she wore, balling it into his fist, jerking her off the ground. The growl was low, menacing as he stared down at her. "You," He didn't have any more words for her. Just that one because really, all of this was her fault.
Her dark mocha eyes were wide with fear, her small hand wrapping around his wrist weakly. A feeble attempt. He squeezed her neck with force. Not enough to kill her, but enough so that she felt it. Felt him.
He stood to his full height bringing her with him, her feet dangling. "Who are you?" He snarled, his eyes roaming every inch of her face. She struggled to speak, choking on her own spit, her fingers tightening around his wrist, eyes narrowing.
He loosened his grip just a bit to let her speak, her heart hammering in her chest like a jackhammer. "Please…" She gasped, coughing violently as he let her drop. She gasped, taking in gulps of air, looking at him in fright. He just stared at her surprised. A pleading human was something he was used to, but it was her voice.
It put him under a minor trance. If he could call it that. What exactly was this thing? What was she? How could one word come out like a song? A song that he's been hearing for the last 18 years. He raked his eyes over her body, guessing that she could be no older than 20, and no younger than 16. "How old are you human?" He asked, crouching down to her level.
She flinched away from him, moving away. He grabbed her jacket once more, pulling her back to his face, their noses almost touching. "Answer me," He demanded, frows furrowing. If she was how old he speculated…that could…"18," She whispered shakily, her warm breath fanning across his face.
He did his best to hide the shock from his face. "When is your birthday?" He asked, watching closely as her own brows furrowed, mothing parted in question. She swallowed, breathing out. "September 17th,"
He let her go, watching as she eased away from him. "1987 I presume?" She nodded slowly, her hands shaking as she huddled herself.
"Interesting," He murmured. His nose twitched again, the scent of her already permeating his nostrils. "Why do you reek of a Cullen?" Her heart stuttered, pain briefly passing across her face before she turned away. She didn't speak and Alistair became annoyed.
Everything about her screamed weird and to get the fuck out of dodge. Although a small portion of his mind wanted him stay if only for the human's sake. Something about him liked her. Blasphemy. He thought. A human could never catch his attention.
They were nothing more but cattle, food.
"Speak!" He snapped. Why did she smell of them? Did she know? She let out a squeak of fear shaking her head violently. He growled stalking towards her, grabbing her by the collar of her jacket, shaking her. "What do you know?" He growled, hearing her brain rattle against her skull. "Why did you do this me?"
She paused, staring up at him wide eyed. "ME? Do something to you?! I don't even know you!" She snapped, trying to jerk out of his hold. Her anger was unexpected. "You must know me. You apparently associate with my kind, and for the last 18 years you've been playing racket ball with my body. The day you were born I've been a magnet to you! Feeling as you traveled up and down the entire west coast! Do you know how long I've been trying to avoid you? Now here I am, and you don't even know?!"
He growled, bringing his face close to hers, making her gasp as the moon hit his face just right reflecting his red eyes back at her.
It clicked.
Maybe not in his brain, but in his body. Something in his body said No. That this was something he could not damage or bruise or scare. It was the most ridiculous thing in the world. What hold did she have on him?
He let her go, swallowing back venom. Oh, he wasn't hungry, but he had an urge to pump her with nothing but his venom.
A witch. She had to be a witch. An evil one that casted spells on her victims.
"I-I don't….I've never.." She started, backing away from him. He tilted his head at her sudden fear. He froze as something out of way caught his attention. Two things actually. One, she had a very…silvery white scar on her wrist that could only come from his kind.
Two? There was an unknown vampire heading right in his direction. Well for the girl. He grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward ignoring her plea. "Shut up, I'm not going to kill you…yet." He snapped, pulling her wrist forward, eyeing it with speculation. "Where did you get this?" He growled, his mind somewhere counting down the minutes this vampire was set to arrive.
He suddenly focused on it, finding the vampire rather annoying for the way it bounced around like a tv signal.
Her look said it all, and he raised a brow. He jerked back her head, exposing her neck to him. He looked up then, meeting vibrant eyes like his own, fiery red hair dancing in her face. "That human is mine," The vampire hissed, springing forward. Alistair pushed the human to the side, meeting the woman head on. He growled as she was a slippery one to catch.
Her movement swift and random. Random. That would be her downfall wouldn't it? Alistair snarled then, using that to his advantage, making calculated moves, and he laughed at the frustration on her face.
He snatched the vampire by the hair lifting her off the ground. He hissed in her face, watching her struggle. He moved out of the way just in time to miss her claws for fingers. "I beg to differ," He snapped, twisting her head off.
He grabbed the head, swiveling to face the human that apparently called to him like a siren's song. He could leave her where she sat.
He could kill her.
He could turn her.
He was conflicted.
He stalked forward grasping at her chin, forcing her face up to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for 1 minutes and 48 seconds before he spoke.
"You're mine now human,"