Chapter 43 Chapter notes
Victoria is a fun and colorful antagonist to write. In this chapter, she returns to the peninsula, looking forward to finding Bella Swan and teaching her a lesson.
**WARNING** This chapter contains an explicit vampire attack.
The chapter title belongs to Rare Earth and Smokey Robinson
Chapter 43 Get Ready September 11th-October 28th
After leaving Kevin's apartment in Portland, Victoria decides to explore the Oregon coast. She stays hidden from the sun and feeds by night, usually on guys she picks up in bars. She chooses her prey better now, actually watching them interact before luring them away, and has some memorable sexual experiences.
One guy, a tall, lean fellow named Hunter, who looked a bit like James, was the best. She doesn't feed on him, but meets him every night for amazing sex. He never seems to mind that she doesn't let him see her in the light. He is tender and attentive, making sure that she is satisfied before he seeks his own release.
Sometimes he takes her on the beach, where she gets on her hands and knees in a shadowed area. Other times, in the water. Occasionally, they do it at his friend's house, which is cool, because the guy has a waterbed.
After a couple of weeks, he disappears. She never found out where he lived, and then wondered if he was homeless, an itinerant drifter with a big cock and a sure knowledge of how to use it.
It's disappointing, but probably time to go home and finish up this business with Bella Swan. She makes up her mind to return here after she's done in Washington. Maybe Hunter will return, or she can find someone who knows how to get in touch with him. She could change him, then they could be together. She wouldn't be alone anymore.
It takes a couple of hours to get to her little cabin in the wilderness. She crosses the road about halfway there and, because she is daydreaming about Hunter, is nearly run over by a Toyota Camry that swerves and beeps its horn.
When the driver runs in to the store to pay for her gas, Victoria hides in the backseat. At a 4-way stop, she quietly breaks the woman's neck and in seconds has driven the car into a dark parking lot.
She attempts to feed but is interrupted by another car that pulls up behind the Camry. She quickly disengages after only drinking a drop. She dumps the woman's huge orange flowered handbag, thinking she'll add it to her other acquisitions. She leaves the granola bars, tampons and the loaded gun, but tosses in the wallet that is bursting with all kinds of interesting-looking things. Faster than the human can see, she's out of the car and into the forest.
Before the interruption, she'd briefly considered driving the car into Washington state, but it might have been flagged as stolen. She remembers James's words: be inconspicuous. Blend in. Killing a woman and then driving her car to the place you intend to stay is not being inconspicuous.
She arrives at her cabin a little before daybreak, glad to be home. It's odd that this dilapidated structure is more of a home to her than any place she's ever lived. She lays her clothes out and organizes them. After she goes to the nearby stream to wash the dirt off of her skin from travelling, she plans to hunt right away. The interruption of feeding has left her desperate. She feels empty and yearns for blood. Right away.
Victoria is enjoying a rarity in this part of the world: a sunny day, although she estimates the temperature is almost freezing. She runs down the mountain and after scattering a herd of deer and startling a beaver, comes upon a wide, flat meadow. She stops to walk, turning her face to the sun. When the wind picks up, she smells a human in the distance.
She crouches down and looks all around her, but the area seems deserted. She creeps along, feeling very exposed, until she comes upon a muddy trail winding along the edge of the treeless expanse. The human is to the south, heading toward her.
He rounds a mossy curve and comes into view. Victoria lies flat on her stomach and observes him. This man will never be able to run, as he's weighed down with a heavy camera, a bulging backpack, a pair of sharp-looking binoculars and about forty excess pounds. There's a slight rise on this part of the trail, and as he approaches, she can hear his labored breaths.
It's not precisely what she needs to feel sated, which is a struggling, fighting, running victim, but she's thirsty, and this will have to do. With her skin exposed to the sun, she knows she will sparkle like diamonds. She hasn't been able to show this facet of her physique very often, so she's excited to frighten the pants off of this pasty-faced tourist.
Victoria steps out onto the path, roughly twenty feet in front of the guy, who plods along with his head down. C'mon, dude, look up. Here's your fairy godmother.
She stands perfectly still, wondering if he'll look up before he bumps into her. He's a few steps away when he raises his head and comes to an unsteady stop. With two fingers she snatches off his expensive sunglasses and pops them in her pocket. She would have put them on top of her head, but her hair is tied up in the blue hat.
It takes him a second to realize what she'd done and his hand goes to his face. "Where are my shades?" he asks, perplexed. Victoria can smell his fear, a musty, earthy scent. It grows stronger by the second.
"Well, run," she says, frowning at the guy.
"W-what?" Victoria knows that this guy, even unburdened of his equipment, could do no better than a trot. Still, she feels that she needs to encourage him, give him a reason to try and save his life.
"Run," she urges, flicking her fingers at him as he considers her with a confused expression. When he stands there, looking bewildered, she shakes her head. "Here." She pulls the binoculars and camera off his neck and tosses them to the ground. Before he can react, she spins him around and pulls the backpack off. Turning him back around to face her, she looks into his eyes with a full-on vampire stare.
"Okay. You can run now." She waits but he stands there, looking paralyzed. He glances down at his expensive equipment that she just tossed into the damp grass and then slowly back at her.
He glances around. "Where did you come from? And what's wrong with your face?" He leans forward to look at her more closely.
"For the love of god. Will you just fucking run? RUN." She yells at the guy and he obliges her by taking exactly one step back. His lips are parted as if he's going to yell, but there's nobody to hear him. His breath steams from parted lips and tiny beads of sweat have formed on his brow.
"Why do you want me to run?" He almost whispers the words. Victoria can smell the fear emanating from him in waves.
She sighs and flings her hands out. "Because I want to chase you." His eyes grow round and he takes another step back. "I don't just want to kill you. That is not very much fun."
Finally, he turns and tries to trot down the trail. He steps in mud and gets stuck for a second, but after squelching around, gains his footing and sprints away again. She gives him a head start, then catches him from behind, pulling his jacket hood until he slams into her cold, stone body.
The guy is now gurgling with fear. "What do you want from me?" he gasps.
Victoria sighs. What indeed. Declining to dance this dance any longer, Victoria loses patience. She spins him to face her and rips the zipper of his coat down, then pushes it off of his shoulders. It hits the muddy ground. The guy looks at it, then back to Victoria.
He tries to push her away, but stumbles back as she stands as firm as a tree trunk, welded to the ground by a deep root system. His breath comes short. He licks his lips and whispers, "Please don't kill me. Just, take the camera and the stuff. And my coat." He fumbles in his back pocket for his wallet and thrusts it toward her.
"Dude, I don't want your stuff. I want your blood." Victoria pulls his arm up and rakes her hand down, leaving symmetrical gouges all the way to his wrist, which she grabs. "Ow!" he screams. "Hey, let go!"
Blood drips down his arm, thrilling Victoria. She pulls the wrist toward her face. The man grunts and stumbles forward just as Victoria breathes deep the perfume of his inner wrist, to her the most fragrant point of the human body. His eyes grow wide as she opens her mouth and licks the dripping blood. She wants him to struggle, to pull away, but he stands, paralyzed, moaning, gasping for air.
Finally, she chomps on the wrist, biting hard, letting his blood seep into her mouth. He screams, a high, beseeching plea for help, and placing a foot on her leg for leverage, rears back with all his strength. She doesn't let go of the wrist, though, and as the man topples backward, she bites down and the hand is detached. It falls to the muddy trail with a sickening plop and blood streams from the ragged stump.
So he doesn't bleed out before she can feed, she jumps on him, pulling his struggling body upright. He bats at her ineffectually with his remaining hand. "Get off me!" he wails, as she sets him on his feet. They're both soaked with blood, flowing freely from what's left of his ruined arm.
The weak punches the hiker is throwing at her are not exactly what she was hoping for, but they're enough. She knocks off the cap he's wearing and yanks a handful of hair until his head is forced as far back as possible without breaking his neck.
The hiker's screams have been replaced by moans and gasps, and she opens her mouth, sinking her teeth into his tender neck. The man finds strength to shriek and writhe, but Victoria holds him like a lover and begins to drink. She's startled by a low growl and doesn't see the huge dog as it knocks her away from her meal. A hunk of the man's neck is torn away as she falls on her knees in the mud.
As he approaches a broad meadow, Brady hears a human screaming in agony. The sweet, cloying scent of what must bea cold one wafts on the breeze. He stops and throws his head back, inhaling deeply. It's to the south.
Brady begins to silently stalk the monster, following his nose and the tortured screams. In seconds he comes upon a narrow trail meandering off into the woods, and at the bend sees a hiker, flailing and kicking as the vampire grabs a handful of hair and yanks the head back.
This is Edward Cullen. Now Brady knows what the monster smells like.
The hiker shrieks as the ghastly mouth closes on the tender flesh under his ear. The monster, occupied with feeding, hasn't seen the giant Wolf careening toward it. Brady leaps into the air with a growl. The huge paws knock the vampire off its feet and it takes a bite out of the hiker's throat, spraying blood in every direction.
Brady hesitates. The hiker drops to the ground and convulses for a moment, then stills. He lies in a pool of his own blood, next to his severed hand, which looks as if it was torn off of his wrist by a single, hideous bite.
The vampire runs around behind the massive Wolf and puts its arms around his neck. Strong fingers lock together and it squeezes. Brady thrashes and yelps, but after a minute, he falls twitching to the muddy ground.
He opens his eyes to a great pain in his throat, and through a haze sees the vampire from the back, holding the hiker's neck to its mouth. Brady tries to raise his head, and hears a sharp snap and the man is tossed carelessly to the ground.
He is now able to take a deep breath, although it is painful. He stands and surprises the creature, but can still only see as through a veil. He takes a couple of steps, and then a couple more, finding that he feels better with each step he takes. In his half-choked state, he carelessly steps in the same mud that the hiker got stuck in, leaving a massive footprint behind.
The vampire runs and jumps onto the nearest tree trunk, then hand over hand, climbs until it reaches the branches. It crashes through the limbs, from tree to tree. Brady abandons the dead hiker and runs, tracking the cold one for miles until they reach a dense forest, where the pain of his injury overcomes him.
He falters and falls. The pain in his throat is exquisite, and as he lays on the ground, he hears a brother in the distance. He has time to tell him that he'd smelled Edward Cullen, that he'd seen him attack a hiker. That he'd been choked.
His fellow Pack member tries to communicate with him, but Brady's mind is a blur of pain and desperation, and he finally falls unconscious in a patch of ferns.
When the trees thicken into a mass of closely-growing conifers, Victoria realizes the dog is no longer below. She stays in a tree for hours, peering down through the branches and trying to catch its musty, sickening odor. Cautiously, she climbs down, peering into the dim recesses of the forest for the animal, but it doesn't appear.
Victoria doesn't know what this animal is, but its size and abilities suggest another supernatural being. But why is it after her? And a better question is, what would it do if it caught her?
Hoping that the shaggy beast is far behind her, Victoria decides to turn north, toward Forks, thinking that she might be able to find some clothes there. When she slips into town it's midday, and raining. She walks up and down residential streets and finally chooses an older neighborhood where the homes are spaced farther apart and back up onto a dense, moldering forest.
After crawling in the back windows of a few houses and finding clothing that is too large, she comes upon a one-story ranch that sits at the end of a curving cul-de-sac. After determining that nobody is at home, she runs around back and crawls in a window.
The home is tidy and smells of cinnamon. Victoria walks around for a few minutes, looking at the family's belongings, remembering her own small apartment in Seattle, how her life had changed one cold, windy night.
In the living room, she plops down on the red plush sectional sofa and admires the big screen TV, mounted to the wall. She'd like to turn it on and flick through the channels, but she doesn't know when the family might come home, so can't risk it. She thinks about killing them when they arrive, but their presence would be missed. Calls would be made, and then there would be a frantic knocking on the door, just like at Kevin's house.
With a sigh, Victoria gets up and walks into the master bedroom. It's small and cozy, with a big, soft bed and its own bathroom. Victoria begins pulling open drawers and finds male and female clothing, but all in a size too large for her.
The back bedroom has two twin beds and it's clear from the scent that two females share this space. The mess and the clothes tossed carelessly on the floor remind Victoria of Bella's closet. Rifling through the pile, she finds nothing to interest her, and most of the remaining items on hangers are dressy, preppy things that would never stand up to her lifestyle.
She opens the dresser drawers and finds two pairs of jeans and a faded orange hoodie. She snags a pair of gray hiker socks in a soft wool-blend and a long-sleeved tee shirt with a hood. Inside its front pocket she finds a purple wallet. She decides to go through it back in her cabin.
With a sweep of her arm, she clears away the clothing tossed to the floor and looks under the beds, and squeals with delight when she finds a pair of high-end boots with a modest heel. They look brand new.
The shower is large and tiled. After rinsing off all the blood and mud, she shampoos her hair, then luxuriates in the hot spray for a few minutes as she samples the various gels and soaps. After toweling dry, she finds a hair pick and spends a minute picking out her long red hair. She dresses in the jeans and hoodie, and with relish, slips on the boots. They're a size too big but the wool socks help fill them out.
She has to look for the cinnamon scent, and finally finds a scented candle in the living room closet, wrapped and in a gift bag. She grabs it and in the same closet finds a big black tote. She fills it with her acquisitions.
On her way out, she grabs up her bloody clothes, stuffs them in a plastic bag from the kitchen, and drops them in a dumpster on the edge of town.
Back in her cabin, Victoria goes through the stolen articles of clothing. Although she could run around naked and be perfectly comfortable, season-appropriate clothing is essential to blend in with the humans, and these things are pretty. She lays them out one by one and admires them.
The clothes are nice. In good shape, of the proper size, and clean. But the real prize is the boots. They're brown, not quite mid-calf, with laces up the front. Not leather, but some kind of synthetic material that looks waterproof. She turns them over and peers inside, and decides they'll be excellent for every-day wear. Good for running and hiking.
She wiggles her toes and feels the weave of the thick sock and sighs. Socks were her favorite thing to buy or steal when she was human. They were quirky and comforting, representing her freedom and independence.
She's certainly free and independent now, but at what cost? As much as anything, Victoria misses the physical relationship she had with James. Wistfully, she remembers waking up from her ghastly transformation and finding James waiting for her. How he had given her a total of fourteen orgasms that first, memorable afternoon they'd spent together.
And now he's gone. Executed by the Cullen tribunal, without trial or mercy.
Her anger at Bella Swan has grown, taking on a life of its own. She will tear the girl limb from limb. She will twist her head off and throw it into a fire.
Edward Cullen will rue the day that he and his family decided to play nice with Bella Swan.
It begins to snow, and she stands at the cabin door, gazing out at the falling flakes, safe in the knowledge that no one knows about her home here in the trees. She'll go into Forks in another day or so and find some more treasures, but tonight, she's watching the snow.
She finds the hairbrush she'd liberated from Kevin's house and brushes her hair until it riots around her head in a soft, fiery halo.
Look out, Bella. Ready or not, here I come.
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