"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?" ― Mark Twain
I wake up in the afternoon with a familiar tingling sensation at the base of my neck. I've only gotten the bare minimum amount of sleep to handle this with. Somehow that number keeps going lower and lower the longer I spend phasing into a wolf.
I know right away that Embry's time is almost upon us. There isn't much I can do but rush out the door and reaffirm to Jared and Paul that he is my responsibility to handle alone. I won't have anyone pushing him to phase in a dangerous emotional state. Though I don't believe I can really do much better.
The sprint to his house goes by quick enough. I'm suddenly reminded of my mom's affinity to drive longer routes just to avoid this place. Tiffany Call never did get along with the other rez women. Even though I turn into an animal, I don't understand the beastly ways women tear at each other for fear of their man being stolen.
But Embry is an innocent victim in that. And now he'll be an innocent victim in something else.
I hear yelling going on in the small cottage. The windows are opening and purple curtains flap out in the wind. It's getting pretty cold to do that, but I assume Embry's rising body temperature demands greater cooling that his mom can fight against.
My stomach constricts after a few minutes of listening. Embry has no plans to leave his house. With him so close to phasing, I have to get him out of here or he'll hurt his mother. Like I did mine.
Phasing back into a human, I march up to the door. A closer inspection of the house reveals it's more dilapidated than I first noticed. Their quality of living may not be so high, even compared to the rest of the government stifled reservation occupants.
My knocks do silence their yelling, however.
Tiffany Call throws open the door. She's standing with messy hair thrown on top of her head and one of the angriest expressions I've ever seen.
"What the fuck do you want?" she levels at me.
I take a half-second to regain my composure, but stand as tall and broad as possible, "I need to talk to your son, Ma'am."
She scoffs, "Like hell."
"It's very important I talk to him right now," I push a little harder. I use my 'protector of the people voice.' I can tell immediately that she doesn't buy it.
Fortunately, Embry easily pushes past her in the doorway and exits his house. "Fine, whatever," he growls either at me or his mom or the world.
I give a quick tip of my head to Tiffany and chase after the teenager. His anger certainly helps him walk quickly, but I'm experienced enough at this point to catch up. I can see him shake, the spasms out of reality I did myself those years ago. He's very close.
"Embry Call," I shout. "I have some things to talk to you about."
"Not interested!" he yells back over his shoulder.
At this point, I can't even tell what his intended destination is. He seems to want to meander through the forest as long as possible, perhaps to get me off his back. Or maybe for what I instead assume, he knows he's in a dangerous spot right now and he shouldn't be near an unguarded person. Of course, I am not one so I keep following.
Embry acts a bit surprised that I can keep up with him. The difficult tree branches and ravines he picks to move through are spots I've spent many months training on top of. There's no way he can beat me in this game. Yet for his sake, I keep a distance so he doesn't feel too threatened.
"I know what's happening to you," I finally call out to him.
"Piss off!"
Right, more of the same. Not unlike Bella actually. My stomach tightens at the thought.
"Embry," I get closer to him, enough for him to lose a couple of steps of steady footing, "I know why you're angry all the time, why you're burning hot no matter the weather outside. I know."
He slows down and looks back at me with wide eyes but shakes his head and keeps going.
"Your body is changing, growing at a rapid rate and your own strength scares you," I continue.
He laughs, "I've already gone through puberty, man."
"This is different, this is special. You've been chosen, Embry."
More laughter, "Is this how you indoctrinate all your cult members?"
Though I'm still keeping up with him quite well, I do have to say the kid knows how to emotionally exhaust a person. Perhaps this is why his mom appears to be on a short fuse. The thought reminds me of my purpose in being here.
"What you are doing is dangerous to your mom," I say.
He stops walking entirely. Back facing me, I feel him breathe in and out heavily. He's got a lot of control, but he can't stop nature any more than I ever could.
I wait for him to make the next move, slowly he turns back to me to face me with a rabid expression. Ah, so the angry genes of Tiffany Call are dominant. Whoever his father is, I imagine he has the same temperament as the other tribal men: contemplative and reserved.
"What did you say about her?" he seethes. The whites of his eyes shine brightly and I know he's real close now.
"If you don't let what's happening to you happen, you could hurt her," I state plainly. He'll learn soon enough what I did to mine.
He stalks towards me with a few wide steps. Not nearly enough to intimate me but I applaud his efforts.
"Don't talk about her!" he yells. "You don't know anything about us."
I agree, "That's true, but there's something happening to you right now, Embry, that you need to let out. I know you can feel it."
He laughs bitterly, "I don't want your advice."
"Feel it," I press on. "It's in your chest, right? Clawing to get out. It's in me too. We'll do it together, okay?"
I suddenly realize this may not be the route to go. Perhaps Paul's approach was right after all. But Embry looks close enough to rage at me that our two methods are merging. I dig my heels into the forest floor in a fighting posture. If he notices, he doesn't comment or react.
"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, freak," he lies.
"Then watch."
Quickly, I take two big steps back and then launch myself at him. His whole face goes slack as he sees me run. He's actually paralyzed with fear. Hopefully, this works.
My legs and arms pump fast until I lead up and phase into my wolf almost on top of him. Nature kicks in and Embry's body erupts. Hearing the sickening bone crunches of a kid who's trying to fight against it in pure shock and horror ignites another layer of suffering in me I didn't think was possible.
He contorts on the ground and withers in pain. His legs bend out in front of him and he keeps trying to roll to one side and lift himself, but falls back down over again, not used to the wolf form.
The only thing that goes through our mind link is something along the lines of 'what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,' over and over again.
His coloring is dark gray with patches of black. The same shade of black I am. There's something I know with certainty. The same certainty that passed through me when I looked in Bella Swan's eyes. Embry Call is my brother. Not a pack brother, but a blood one. His father is Joshua Uley as well.
I'm not able to move. I watch Embry struggle on the ground and it takes me many moments to snap myself out of the astonishment of it all.
"Steady yourself," I command.
He slows down considerably.
"Use your hind legs and push yourself up."
He's able to do it. Then floods my mind with the feeling of shock and awe. "What did you do to me?" he asks with a small voice. The anger that once was there dissipates.
"Nothing. It was already inside of you."
He whines, then howls at the sky. I wait for him to sort out the flickering of emotions passing through. Surprise, anger, sadness. Then he settles on terror. I suppose I can't blame him for that.
It's indescribable what a crying wolf sounds like. Through physical expressions and the mind link, the power of Embry's emotions nearly brings me to my knees.
"I can't be this way! I can't!" he sobs.
I strut around to get closer to him, "You can. But you won't be stuck in this form forever. You can phase back into a human."
"How?!" he laments more. "I'm a monster now, might as well stay this way."
I don't want to see my own shame mirrored on him, so I do something that could be categorized as quite 'mean.' I force the issue.
"You will phase back," I demand in the Alpha voice.
Embry stills once again and then the sickening bone crunches return. He's fighting against returning to his human form. Each snap I hear causes me to shudder in disgust. If it weren't for our rapid healing, Embry would be a broken corpse right now. I try not to think of that while he has access to my thoughts.
"Please, please," he begs. "Make it stop."
I find myself completely unsure what the right decision to make here is. It's another weight on top of me that tells of what a failed leader I am.
"Relax," I try. "You need to calm yourself and then leap back into who you once were."
"I can't!" he moans and falls over each time he tries. The pain seems only to be getting worse. I've clearly made the wrong decision.
"Okay, okay," I say. "Stop. Lay down and rest."
He does. It takes another thirty minutes for him to do anything but cry within his head. The wolf version keeps howling too. I want to be gentle, I do. But the threat that is out there needs a trained pack to counter it. Embry needs to learn to master the beast as much as we have.
"I'm alone," he sobs. "I bet I can't tell my mom about this, huh?"
"No, only other members and the elders."
He cries worse. I cringe at that.
"But I can't even tell my only family," he says. "She's all I've got. I'm all she has."
"You're going to have a bigger family now," I tell him. "We don't ignore brothers in the pack. Everyone will be there for you."
"But my friends," he cries. "I can't tell them."
I swallow, "Maybe not for a little bit. But they'll be there when it's all over."
Now doesn't feel like the right time to tell him of the inkling suspicion I have that his friends will be joining our pack. It would be naive to assume that other vampires are not interested in this area. They may not run in true packs like us, but I bet the suckers have friends. And if one was interested in draining Bella….Thinking of it sends me into a tailspin. Embry notices right away and I find myself having to explain the legends of the imprint. Not that I would ever tell Jared, but it helps to have a case where it did work out well so Embry isn't terrified of looking women in the eye for the distant future.
"Bella Swan?" he says, startled. "But Jacob's crazy about her."
I nod, "I know, but it's not a concern of mine. She's free to be with whomever she chooses."
"Do you want that?" Embry asks, getting straight to the heart of my constant dilemma. Maybe he can see it on my face just how much it fucking hurts to say that.
I grit my teeth and weigh my words, "I just want the best for her."
"Is that all?"
I strongly consider giving a glare to the kid, but I push that down and admit the truth instead, "No, I do want to be around her, all the time. But I have to consider what she wants and needs. Right now, that isn't to get involved with more supernatural creatures."
"More?"
Shit.
And Embry Call learns that the legends of the Cold Ones were always in fact true. He reacts similarly to me: the need to kill almost overwhelms. I'm still feeling generous enough so I show him the memories of us killing the dark-skinned leech through the forest. Embry doesn't comment on the level of anger and righteous instinct flowing through me at the moment due to the threat on Bella's life.
"Are you ready to go back now?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says.
The phase back to human almost looked natural for him. I feel a burst of pride for my new brother.
I give him my pair of pants to go back home with since he shredded all of his stuff. I also mention that he will need to come to see Old Quil soon so we can go forward with giving him the protector tattoo and cutting his hair. I know Embry doesn't want to take on the mantra of a 'hall monitor' but duty often leaves no choice.
Later, Paul and Jared welcome him into the pack by chasing him around the forest for miles at a time. He's slimmer than the rest of us and can get into hard-to-access places. I will have a use for him yet. I think mostly though, he's grateful to have two others like him who don't have to be the stoic authority figure. Like them, however, he doesn't like the shift schedule I put him on. They all know that if more boys phase their own hours will diminish, but none ever talk about it. Perhaps they also feel the weight I do when someone else is cursed to this life.
December has never been anything to me except a cold and lonely month. Now halfway through and the solitude is even worse than I remember. I glance up at the telephone hanging on my wall. No new voicemails.
But, I do sense and hear a presence approaching my house.
I wait, holding my breath. Then there's a rough knock on the door.
"Yo Boss, let me in," Paul's voice demands. I almost laugh thinking that he can imitate the same level of command that I do.
Regardless, I walk up and open the door for him, "Is there something you need?"
He must seize me up and conclude that I'm not in the happiest of moods to chat. With two eyebrows raised, he pushes past me and plops down on my couch like he owns the place. Damn, let me just offer to cook you a meal too, huh Beta.
"Take your feet off the coffee table, Paul," I press.
He probably rolls his eyes at me, but he does what I say.
I'm about to ask why he's really here, especially when I do need to get some sleep soon so I can monitor their antics in a few hours, but he blurts it out soon enough.
"So I can't lie to you anymore, man, just thought I'd come here and say it."
Paul stops and waits dramatically. I almost walk over and yank on his hair to throw him out of my house if he thinks he can act this way in front of me. Fucking theatrical pauses are my limit of bullshit to contend with lately.
"Emily and I are dating, I guess. Sort of," he spits out and then looks to the ground in shame.
Oh.
"Wh-why?" I stammer. It's a confusing prospect, to say the least.
He looks back up at me and laughs, "Cause she's hot? And like the only woman here that knows about us. Look, gets tiring hearing about your and Jared's lovey-dovey thoughts when I don't have someone of my own."
I frown at him, "I don't have Bella."
"See, didn't even have to say her name and she's who you think of. Doesn't matter. Emily and I aren't that serious. Just thought I'd tell you when the guilt was eating away at me."
I sit down at the recliner next to the couch and stretch my legs. Pinpointing how I feel on the issue is harder than I might have expected. I don't want Emily back. Not when every nerve in my body screams for my imprint and my imprint alone. Yet, I'm undoubtedly perplexed that Emily has moved on so quickly. She seemed to treat me with such adoration and understanding that I would have sworn it was true love. Before, anyway. I even chalked her lack of want to fight the imprint with me to be her way of saving me the pain of trying to do something I'd never be capable of.
The thoughts circle in my head and I say the most tangible thing I can focus on, "Okay, but why is she interested in you?"
Paul's eyes go wide for a second, but then he laughs even more, "Who the hell knows, man. She mentioned not being able to turn her back on the 'wolf world' since finding out. Said it was her destiny or something. Yeah, she's a little bit crazy, but she's cute and makes amazing muffins. Like why didn't you mention that before?"
I blink a few times and then just shrug. No answer for that.
"It'd be weird to invite you so I won't, but Emily keeps on insisting that I bring the others around so she can cook for them too. More the merrier, eh?"
"Suppose so."
He gets up off the couch and makes an awkward effort to dust himself off, "Well, that's all I wanted to say. See you for our shift later."
I stand up too as he makes his way over to the door to leave. Again, I blurt out something that could be construed as insensitive, "What happens if you imprint?"
Looking back, he says, "Ah, you see, my plan for that is to simply not do it. Shit looks like it sucks."
"Paul," I say, "Emily already that happen to her once. I'm just trying to watch over her feelings. I can't tell you how serious to keep your relationship, but at least be mindful of that."
He nods at me, "Sure." And then leaves.
I sink back into the recliner and wait. No idea what I'm waiting for though. A change of pace, someone else to show up, anything. But time passes with nothing happening and my eyelids grow heavy. There's no excuse not to sleep when I need rest to be attentive to the kids underneath me.
The days grow colder but none of us ever mind it. Now that Paul has revealed his secret, I see the memories of Emily flicker in his mind. She frets over him like she once did over me. Trying to get him to bring a coat. Even Kim remarks that superheat should have a limit. Embry's mom spends too much time yelling at him in the morning for sneaking out at night to insist that he stays warm. She's trying a cold shoulder of her own. And I'm an experienced adult, so there's no one to coddle me. Though I might wish there was.
I worry over news reports of hikers going missing a hundred miles from us. But there's hardly enough concrete evidence to force a schedule of increased intensity on the boys. The sinking feeling that there'll be more trouble to come won't leave. I will speak to Old Quil soon about his perceptions on which kid will be next. The Alpha genes in Jacob Black appear to be ready to activate. I wonder how soon he'll want to take over this role. I'm happy to hand it over anytime. For now, I let the pack have a short holiday break.
It's Christmas and I can't avoid my mom. We never really did celebrate Thanksgiving so she'll definitely be expecting me to come today. And she'll see the change right on my face before I even say anything.
I walk into her small house and stare at the decor. The giant Christmas tree in the corner cuts into my childhood. I used to help her put that up. We'd wait for my father all day to see if he was going to come that year. He never did. I swallow and put the presents down on the kitchen table instead.
I'm about to comment on the smell of warm cookies when my mom instantly seizes me up. It all must be evident on my face. Longing and desire. That or maybe she's heard about Emily and Paul. But I hold more weight in the category of 'she knows her son's temperaments, especially related to infatuation.' If only I could explain how it's different with Bella. Too different to be confronted with regular approaches to dating.
With an eyebrow raised, my mom speaks, "Well, what's her name and why didn't you bring her?"
I shake my head, "It isn't like that."
"Not official?"
I swallow the knot in my throat again and just barely grit out, "Not reciprocated."
Allison Uley laughs. Despite the scars on the side of her face, deep smile lines break through and she holds her belly as she laughs. Even after a solid minute, she's still doubling over while sitting on her rocking chair. It may be the happiest I've seen her in months. Probably because I've spent that long avoiding her in the reluctance of facing this moment.
"You haven't even told her, have you?" she barely makes out.
I roll my eyes and stretch out my legs on her couch. The damn thing has only gotten smaller with the years.
"She's been through a bad breakup."
"So make it better?"
I curse under my breath and decide to let out a bit more information, "He abandoned her in the forest."
"Yeesh," my mom says. "Give her something to forget that with."
The frayed edges of the couch cushions seem a better thing to focus on at this moment. Messing with them makes it worse. If I visited earlier, I would have put new pillows on the gift list. Now my mom will have to settle for a llama wool scarf that cost a pretty penny.
"She doesn't even like me as a friend," I admit. Bella's attitude is enough reason to come to that conclusion. Of course, I haven't been the nicest in pushing her to get off drugs. Though a patient kindness may not have worked in her case either.
"Sam Uley, you have your father's gift for attracting women. I find that very difficult to believe. Just look at how easy Leah and Emily came to you."
"Well, believe it," I grit out, trying not to think of my exes. "I gave her my number and she hasn't called."
It hurts to say it out loud. The lack of my imprint's interest in me continues to degrade my nerves.
"She will," Allison answers.
Uh-huh. Sure, Mom.
She's got that look in her eye like she wants to hear more. I try a different angle, "She's not Quileute. From Forks, actually."
My mom presses her lips into a thin line as if she's considering something. She's never talked to me about her expectations for me to choose a tribal girl. Yet, I always figured that was her ideal even if never spoken. Fortunately or unfortunately, the universe gave me no choice in breaking that tradition.
After a few moments of silence, she speaks up, "Suppose it doesn't matter. Bring her around when you've finally wooed her."
I scoff.
"This one is different, yes?" she presses lightly but with the intensity I know is stirring behind her eyes.
If only you knew, I think bitterly. But there's only so many pack secrets I'm going to tell her. The definiteness of the imprint would be justified in causing a horrified reaction, or one of sappy soulmate praise for those doomed romantics in life. Reality never works so clean cut.
But even with all these thoughts, my cheeks heat up. I try to shake the redness off my head. It's another clear signal to Allison that she's right. Bella is special.
"I always had a suspicion that the others weren't quite right for you," she murmurs while looking out the cabin window. The snow falls peacefully. The perfect scene for what Allison is hoping to be the last Christmas of just the two of us. Even with Leah and Emily joining, my mom always reverted to her decades-long position of waiting for a man who would never come. I fail to see how Bella could change that for us, however. But the world clearly shows stranger things happening.
"But you liked them," I argue.
Her shoulders rise and fall as she looks back at me with a wistful expression, "They made you happy for a time. What more can a mother hope for?"
Not a failed marriage like her own, I know. She's said it to me too many times. Sometimes with drunken confessions and others with her slumped over body crying over a plate of cookies on Christmas Days like these. Certainly not a marriage where a partner has continuous affairs and fathers another child.
"Should we eat?" I ask instead. She's familiar enough with my near-constant need for replenishment. Even as a teenager I almost ate into our rent each month. There's still lingering guilt on that, of course.
"If you don't mind cornish hens this year. Been trying out a new thing."
I get up and help take out plates and utensils while she unloads the food from the oven. My heightened senses can pick up on the lack of spices and bordering-on-burned skin. I chuckle silently to myself. Her cooking mistakes never change despite now many 'new things' may be out there. Despite it all, I wouldn't have a Christmas Meal by her any other way.
We do manage to have a happy enough meal. Between the natural pauses of conversation, I still find her looking out the window for a never-approaching car. I do my best to immediately spark a childhood memory where we continue to argue over the interpretation to this day. She never did quite believe me when I asserted that the small fights I got in during school weren't my fault. Well, maybe some of them were. I've always been a little territorial.
There's a hefty pumpkin pie for dessert. Store-bought this time. I try not to laugh at that too. But my mom catches on and curses me for remembering the year she burned dessert and caused the smoke alarms to go off. I vaguely remember being terrified the police were going to show up they were so loud. She threatens me with the pie server for reminding her of that.
I'm fighting to conjure up another shared experience of ours when she beats me to it. Unfortunately deciding to press on a topic I make a point to avoid.
"I've been talking to your father on the phone occasionally," she admits, not quite looking me in the eye.
"How occasionally?" I ask with as level a voice as I can maintain. Neither of us talks about the fact it was her comparison of me to him that caused her such pain. I don't think I could bear it.
She rolls her eyes at me for a change, "He asks about you, you know."
"And does he ask about Embry Call?" I simmer with silent rage.
The expression on Allison Uley's face is one of shock and anguish. We've never talked about the kid before. She might have put in some effort to hide it from me, Lord knows why. Then her eyes grow wide with an understanding flashing across her features. Always a perceptive woman.
"Is he like you?" she whispers. I remember she doesn't even know about Jared yet, though she does sometimes ask about Paul. But never about this side of us. Perhaps it causes her the same level of pain it does to me.
I nod.
Then a sad smile, "Tiff never did give me a straight answer when I asked."
"She probably would have hidden it from the world had Dad's genes not been so goddamn strong." I don't tell her that even if Billy Black or Quil Ateara had been his father, he'd probably still have shifted.
Allison carefully chews her bite of pumpkin pie as she thinks.
"So then us women cannot pass on the gene?"
"They probably can," I say. "But Tiffany Call is mostly Makah, no?"
She smirks, "That's right. Never did pay too much attention to the bitch."
I laugh despite myself. She follows suit.
The rest of Christmas is a mildly happy affair. But the lingering want of Bella's presence never quite leaves my mind. I keep waiting for a call that might never happen.
A/N: Wrote this super quickly in just three days, hope you enjoy even though it's not the most plot-centric chapter.
Leave a ;) in the comments if you think Bella will call next chapter...