A/N: Warning: I didn't beta this at all because I love you too much to keep you hanging for long.
I decided to include a Jessica/Garrett section – the final section of this chapter. More a scene, than anything.
* For those that don't plan on reading the Jessica/Garrett section*
I'll summarize the important takeaways in an A/N at the bottom, as some of it is relevant or be will mentioned in passing, and if I get a review asking where that info came from…I'll know you didn't read the A/N :P
/ * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \
Bella jumped up from her bed, feeling Jasper draw near and ran to her bedroom window to open it. Less than a second later, he was standing in front of her. Grasping her body tightly to his, he slammed the two of them into the wall, pressing her arms against it as he roughly claimed her lips.
"Charlie!" she gasped into his mouth with alarm and turned her head away to listen for the tell-tale sound of her father's mattress creaking to indicate he had heard the commotion.
"I can assure you, that's not my name, darlin'," Jasper teased before claiming her neck, kissing and nipping at her tender flesh. "But since you're having trouble remembering, I'll make sure you cry it out all night," he growled into her ear and freed her wrists. Grabbing her bottom, he lifted her with one hand, as her legs automatically moved to circle his waist. He used the other to grind his fingers roughly between her thighs, banishing any thoughts of her father, or anyone else for that matter, from her mind.
"Oh, fuck!" She reached to twist her fingers into his hair tightly. Tightening her grip around her mate's hips, seeking him.
"Wrong again, Miss Swan," Jasper growled, and the girl found herself spun around, face and front pressing against the wall, with her hands pinned above her head. Her mate ground against her from behind. "My name isn't Fuck, either."
Bella panted as she was flooded with a rush of heat. "Please," she begged, "I need to feel you."
Unable to resist his mate any longer, Jasper yanked her tank top up and over her head and threw it to the side. Her panties likewise found a new home on the floor, and she was finally bare before him.
Bella couldn't help but turn her face over her shoulder to watch her mate remove his own clothing. His shirt joined hers, jeans kicked quickly aside, then Jasper met her gaze. She quivered with anticipation as she registered that the only light against the deep, black pools of his eyes were reflections from her lamp: how he hungered for her.
Jasper pressed her tightly to the wall once more, and wedged his stiff cock between her slick lips, rubbing himself back and forth, teasing her clit. He released the grip his freezing hands had on her wrists, and reached to roughly cup one breast, while the other wrapped around her front to grasp her neck.
Bella wasn't prepared for him to enter her silken depths with vampire speed and couldn't keep from crying out at his thickness and the shock of the temperature difference. "Oh, God!"
"Not even close," Jasper growled, sliding roughly into his mate as he squeezed the sides of her neck, much to Bella's enjoyment.
Each hard thrust sank him deeply into her, driven by a need to fill her with his venom, for her to smell only of him. Bella's gasping whimpers alerted him to her looming finish, her need matching his own. He was relentless, slamming ruthlessly into her, bringing them both quickly to the edge.
Jasper came with a roar and sank his teeth deeply into the throbbing pulse point from behind her neck.
"Oh, fuck," she gasped, squirming as her insides clenched and spasmed around him. She reached her hands to grasp the back of his head, pinning him to her, the combinations of pain and pleasure taking her orgasm to a new level of intensity. "Don't stop," she cried breathlessly, her nails digging into the back of his neck. "Don't fucking stop."
He growled approvingly against her flesh and rammed into her as she rode out a lengthy climax, her blood trickling into his open mouth. It wasn't until her gasping slowed along with her heart rate that he followed suit, sliding lazily out of and back into her, unwilling to leave her warmth entirely.
Very gently, Jasper removed his teeth from her soft flesh, and lapped the crimson fluid that pooled from the wound before his venom could seal it.
"You're mine," he growled darkly.
"Yes." She gasped at his icy tongue swirling against her skin. "Always."
He pulled himself from her, and gently turned the shifter towards him. Her lips pressed to his, and together they stumbled to Bella's bed. Their hands roamed, overwhelmed by the need to touch and press every surface of the other, willing themselves to commit every hair, freckle, and rolling muscle to their memory.
"You taste absolutely divine," he finally broke free to murmur into her ear.
"Is that so?" she asked, her lips tickling his ear.
"It reminds me of drinking whiskey as a human."
"Doesn't whiskey burn?" Bella retorted with a laugh and let her head fall back to the pillow.
"My throat burns most of the time," he admitted, with a rueful smile. "But your blood reminds me of whiskey in that, you must drink it slowly. You don't just knock it back, you let the flavors reveal themselves in your mouth; you take your time, you don't drink the whole bottle."
"That's actually kind of beautiful," she answered with a grin that pulled at one side of her lips. "I'm flattered." Bella thought for a few moments, "Will there be any issues with you drinking from me, though?"
"I promise, I only take what rises to the surface, and I always seal you after. I have no wish to actually drink from you," he reassured her and ran his thumbs up and along one cheek. "I would never."
"I know that, silly!" Bella exclaimed before capturing his lips in a kiss. "I know you'd never hurt me! There is another consideration, however," she trailed off.
"The treaty," Jasper whispered lowly in her ear to avoid any potential to be overheard.
"Yes," she breathed back. "I can explain the first as being bitten during the attack, which isn't a lie. And this one is far enough back that my hair will cover it, so good move on your part. But anything else will have to occur…elsewhere," she explained.
"I wonder where you might be thinking," he asked teasingly, rubbing his lips up and down the space between her breasts, teasing her with his cool breath.
She blushed deeply in response and grabbed one of his hands, directing it to run against her inner thigh.
Jasper groaned in response, the complete and utter trust she had readying him for round two. "I missed you so much," he breathed against her chest.
"I can tell," Bella giggled. "That was absolutely insane."
"I agree with you wholeheartedly, darlin', but we have one small problem," he whispered, running both of his hands up and down her thighs.
"What's that," she gasped back, legs trembling at his touch, pupils dilated with arousal.
"You still haven't said my name," he growled deviously, and slid his body down her abdomen, tracing swirls against her skin with his tongue.
/ * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \
Marcus stood at the wooden door to what was supposed to lead to a long-abandoned room at the top of the south tower, used as over-flow for the spoils of war. The bars placed along the upper third of the door, paired with a cut-out square at the bottom gave him a good idea of what the space had been converted for.
He walked forward slowly, curious to see whatever sight met his eyes upon looking through it. Marcus was unprepared, however, to see the crone weaving thread in and out of an immense tapestry, her gnarled hands somehow adept, even in old age.
She ceased her movements but didn't look up from her work.
"Hello, Marcus," she addressed him softly in a voice far too young for her body. "What a lovely surprise."
That gave him pause. "You know my name, yet I know not yours."
"You did, once," she replied after a few beats of silence, then sighed. "And every time you remember, I have to make you forget."
He did not move from the door, despite the potential threat she could pose.
"And how do you do that?"
"I'm a witch," she answered honestly. "A very old, very strong one."
"How long have you been here?" his voice didn't betray his shock.
"This conversation is never any easier, no matter how many times we have it, Marcus. Are you sure you wish to hurt yourself once more, only to have me take it from you again?"
"Please," he whispered, hope sparking in his chest.
Penelope shed the illusions on her appearance and turned to face him.
She's a dead ringer.
"I have been in the castle for hundreds of years; I was born minutes before your wife, my sister, Didyme."
"Penelope," he breathed softly.
Marcus remembered everything.
/ * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \
Alice spent a few of her very limited days left on the planet in her favorite city: Milan, Italy. She had already hit Paris on her way through Europe, but couldn't resist the temptation of the fashion capital, despite the potential risk it carried being a little over two-hundred miles, or a brief hour and a half run, away from Volterra.
She stopped at BVLGARI in Florence to purchase gifts for her family. Alice knew jewelry wasn't really most of her family's thing but having tokens to remember her by seemed like a good idea.
A show of good will, and love, even if it's in my own way.
She arranged a special gift in a bag and stopped to grab what were apparently the best macarons and cappuccino Milan could offer. From there, she set off for the Versace design house, a think tank of the most brilliant designers in the world collaborating for the big name.
She was greeted by the rich smell of fabrics, cut by the crisp notes of paper, so much paper, for all the beautiful sketches that ever were and ever would be.
It took less than a minute for Antonin to find her in the lobby after the receptionist called and wrapped the vampire into the tightest hug she had ever received from a human.
"Miss Alice!" he cried out. "How I have missed you my little pixie-darling!"
"I've missed you too," she whispered against the chest of her long-time friend: possibly her only real friend.
"Come, I must show you my latest works!" he exploded, giddy excitement rubbing off on her as it always had.
He led her through rooms that housed seemingly endless rolls of cloth and ribbons, lace and tulle, soft finishes and glittering sequins.
Home away from home.
They finally reached his studio, filled nearly to bursting with works in progress, vibrant swatches of varying colors and textures, drawings pinned to boards with a slew of notes and addendums; the flashes of inspiration that struck in the wee hours of the morning.
Antonin pulled a stool up to his desk so Alice could sit beside him as he flipped happily through his current works. As always, she was left breathless that such beauty would somehow translate to a physical, wearable piece of art.
"These are incredible," she whispered, handing off the cappuccino and box of macarons so she could put on gloves before touching the pages herself.
Antonin beamed under her praise, and happily took the treats from his second-favorite being in existence, setting them aside for now so he could keep his focus on the girl.
He knew she wasn't like anyone else and had been honored to be trusted enough to watch as her beauty remained unchanged by the decades of friendship that had grown between them. To be allowed to share his work with a creature such as herself was one of the most amazing experiences of his life.
She stared at the final page, struggling to proceed with what would be her final purchase from her friend.
"I have a request," she murmured quietly.
"Anything, my darling!" Antonin agreed quickly reaching to grasp her gloved hands in his own. "You know this," he continued with a smile.
"I do," Alice answered with a grateful grin.
"I need a dress. Something exquisite and flowing, earthy and delicate, flowers and starlight, subtle and ornate."
"Hmm," he grabbed a pencil and tapped it in thought against the desk. "Persephone, Goddess of Flowers and Spring, meets dryad, meets Astraea, Goddess of Stars?" he suggested.
"You are a visionary!" Alice bounced in her seat. She wrote an absurdly high figure for her budget and slid the paper toward her friend.
He stared at it blankly. "Alice, darling, you know this is far too much; I don't know that I could possibly adorn it in enough diamonds to come close to justifying this amount."
"When it's complete, I need you to deliver it to my home in Forks. It's for my sister, Isabella. I'll send you her measurements and photos so you can get a feel for who she is."
Antonin grew more confused. "I don't understand. This is still an excessive amount of money.
"I've already transferred the funds. It's part of my going-away gift to you, sweet Antonin," Alice whispered sadly.
"Where are you going?" he asked, heartbroken and suddenly fearful for his friend. "Are you sick?"
"Yes," she answered, glad for such an easy explanation.
"But you don't get–."
"I know, my friend. That doesn't mean it doesn't happen." She reached for one final bag and passed it over to the man. "This too, is for you."
Antonin took it from her and reached into the bag to remove two jewelry boxes from its depths. Hands shaking, he opened the first to reveal the most beautiful watch he had ever laid eyes on. It embodied the radiance of the sun, day, light, and joy; in the second, was its companion, a creation of the moon, night, hope, and serenity.
"One is for you, the other for your husband," Alice explained softly. "Your friendship has meant so much to me, and I'll never be able to repay your kindness, no matter how long I have."
"Would you please join Johann and I for dinner this evening?" he knew from spending time with her previously that she didn't eat but hoped desperately to be able to spend some time with her.
"I've been busy tying up loose ends, but my flight leaves in a few hours. I had to save you, the best, for last."
Antonin couldn't help but cry as he reached to embrace his dearest friend for the last time.
/ * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \
Jessica stood at the edge of the hot spring that had been designated as her own to relax in, watching glittering fluffy flakes turn back into raindrops just moments before they could land in the steaming waters. Garrett had been right about the scenery; she could think of nowhere else she would rather be, outside of alive and at home.
Her mate had been kind and respectful of her need for privacy, and selected his own spring, off in the distance, with clumpings of trees separating them from one another. Still, she could hear the bubbling of the water he soaked in, the sound of him sinking down, down, down, into the heated abyss.
For a moment she panicked, worried he would drown and was more than halfway through the trees when it occurred to her that drowning probably wasn't something a vampire could do.
An experiment!
Jessica rejoiced for the opportunity and fled back to the comfort and safety of her own space. She dusted snow off a tree branch near the edges of her pool and hung her clothes safely out of the snow. The cold certainly wouldn't bother her, but the sensation of damp clothes would be repulsive against her sensitive skin.
She entered the water slowly, gasping at how soft the rocks felt against her feet. Her weight on the rocks was similar to what she had experienced as a human, but where she would have sliced her skin before, she felt only a slight pressure, and with it an instinctual knowing that she could easily burrow herself far into the stones below, should she so desire.
Perhaps an experiment for another day.
The sensation of the hot water against her cold body was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Jessica slowly eased herself down, letting the heat envelope her skin inch by inch to best appreciate the experience. Finally, all that remained was her head.
Water: my childhood nemesis. If I tip my head back, my hair is unevenly wet which makes the muscles under my skin feel like the physical embodiment of nails on a chalkboard.
But if I dunk all at once, water will get in my ears, and my head will feel like a buoy, until all the air finally passes out. Unless a bubble stays trapped, she shivered at the thought.
In which case, I'll have to leave the water immediately to dry off. How is something that's supposed to be relaxing so hard to go about doing?
Heaving a soft sigh, she came to a decision: she really wanted to know what it felt like to sink to the bottom. Thinking logically, she breathed out, trying to keep calm and fighting the learned, but no longer necessary, urge to draw another breath.
The water flooding her ears was every bit as awful she thought it would be, aside from the fact that, without oxygen filling her lungs, Jessica's body wasn't trying to float.
Buoy-brain avoided.
A slight tilting of her head allowed the air in her ears to pass easily and her body slowly relaxed. She opened her eyes and was so shocked by the glimmering edges of the bubbles floating slowly upwards from the rocky floor that she gasped, sucking water into her lungs.
Jessica knew she wasn't drowning, but the reflex to panic hadn't died along with her human body. She launched herself from the floor back to the surface, coughing and sputtering, desperate to get the water out of her lungs.
Garrett was at the edge of her spring in a flash, thankfully, fully clothed.
"Miss Jessica!" he looked on in alarm. "You're alright, just calm down."
She turned her eyes to glare at him, coughs wracking her body. "Oh yes" she croaked. "Telling a woman to calm down, that'll–."
Twisting her body away from his gaze, Jessica was cut off by her body attempting to evacuate the water from the inside. It was as though her lungs were dry heaving, and within a minute or two, she had managed to mostly dry back out.
"I am truly sorry," Garrett whispered. "I didn't intend to offend you. Again."
Jessica sighed and submerged herself to her shoulders once more, fanning her silvered blonde hair around her so she could face him while remaining covered.
Neither moved as the silence built; Garrett stared at the snow, deep in thought, giving Jessica a chance to study him.
Her eyes roamed from his legs up, taking in the tight curvature of his calves and thighs, able to be seen even through his jeans. A ripple of muscle was exposed where his t-shirt had either ridden up while he ran or hadn't been pulled all the way down in his haste to get to her. Movement in strong, muscular arms caught the girl's attention and she looked away, not wanting to be caught staring.
"I'm sorry that I keep snapping," Jessica allowed.
"Thank you," Garrett whispered back, surprise in his voice.
Jessica thought for a few moments. "I guess now is as a good a time as any?"
"Are you sure you don't wish to be clothed?"
"Are you a prude, Garrett?" Jessica asked with a wicked grin, taking her time to explore his face to gauge his reaction.
If the dead could blush.
The contrast between his wavy dark hair, pink lips, soft amber eyes, and luminously pale skin was breathtaking, something she had failed to notice in all the days she had spent being angry.
I could definitely be mated to worse.
Garrett finally shifted, meeting her gaze once more. "I just don't want either of us to get the wrong idea."
"It's a hot spring, Garrett, not a cheap hotel on prom night."
He didn't seem to fully understand the reference, but understood the intention and moved to take off his shirt.
Despite joking that he was the prude out of the two of them, Jessica turned away from the vampire to give him privacy to hang both shirt and pants near her own and join her in the water. She heard the sound of his body grazing the edges of the pool as he settled in and turned to face him once more.
Jessica moved slowly through the water, sure that the bubbling water kept most of her obscured; not that he was looking. She rested against a section of rocks close to him and wondered how exactly they should begin.
"So, what's the deal?" she opted to cut right to it.
Garrett laughed in response, "how straightforward." He took a moment to gather himself. "It's a lot to explain. Would you mind going first?"
Jessica almost argued back but caught the expression on his face and thought better of it.
"A little over a week ago I had a school, a home, a mother, a sports team, a girlfriend, a date to the dance; I had a life. This week I have no school, no home, no mother, no team, no girlfriend, no dance; and no life, because I'm dead," she answered simply. "Well, I lost my girlfriend before I died, but it's still a loss."
Garrett looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "I'm so sorry that you lost so much, Miss Jessica."
"Please," Jessica turned met his gaze. "Just call me Jess. Only my dad called me Jessica, and he's an asshole."
"Do you regret allowing me to change you, Jess?" he managed to ask, worried for her answer.
She smiled at his attempt to unlearn the formality of her name.
"I don't think so," she responded gently. "I don't know that winking out of existence was the right choice either, you know?"
The silence built again until Garrett asked, "So, this girlfriend; what happened?"
Grateful he wasn't being rude about the subject of same-sex relationships, she opened up to him. "We have been best friends for a long time. A year or so after I came out to her and another friend as bi or pan or whatever you want to call it, she came out to me as bi-romantic, and things just kind of went from there."
"Bi-romantic, meaning?"
"It means that she experiences romantic attraction to any gender, but not sexual."
Garrett was silent for a while. "It makes sense that people could be that way."
Jessica nodded, grateful that he was following along. She fiddled with tendrils of her hair that had found their way over her shoulders.
"There were a few issues to navigate, but things were mostly working out. That's what you do when you love someone, you know?"
"Mostly?" Garrett probed quietly.
"The biggest strain on our relationship, you know, outside of the fact that she fell for someone else, is that Angela was adamant about not coming out."
"You would never have been able to move forward as a couple," Garrett realized out loud.
"Exactly. She wouldn't tell her mom or dad, and aside from me, only Rose and Bells knew. It didn't give us a chance to grow."
"Where does that leave you now?"
Jessica sighed and looked up to the sky, surprised to see the snow fall coming to a halt as the clouds began to part, revealing stars twinkling through a green and purple aurora overheard.
Garrett was right about this place. It's beautiful.
Though she was nervous, the sight gave immense comfort and allowed her to move forward with her thoughts.
"I think there's still a lot for me to explore in life–, or death, rather. I think I still need to figure out who the hell I am and what I want before I could ever be with anyone permanently."
"That's one of the most reasonable observations I have ever heard," Garrett told her gently, earning a shocked smile from his mate.
"Really?" she asked excitedly. "I mean, you understand that I also mean I need to, uh–, explore."
Garrett laughed at her expression, "yes, I quite understood Miss–, er, Jess."
Jessica smiled again, grateful for his understanding and relaxed her head and neck to watch the skies above.
Maybe this mated-intimate-understanding-connection thing won't be so bad.
"Your turn?" she prompted softly.
Garrett sighed and ran wet hands over his face. "I know I told you a bit about my change while you were turning; what do you remember?"
"The Revolutionary War and you hate Benedict Arnold with a passion."
"Accurate, and I'm most shocked you have not thrown that name at me as an insult," he teased her.
"Didn't seem fair," she giggled. "I don't hate you, you know."
"I appreciate that," he said with a sigh. "It would be okay if you did."
Jessica said nothing, allowing him time to pull himself back to his story.
"The battle had been waged for the entirety of the day, neither side making much progress; we were just holding the lines, really. It got a point where neither side could advance among the dead and wounded that littered the field between. There was nowhere to step that wasn't a body."
Jessica gasped at the mental image. "Gods above," she whispered during his pause.
"The night was filled with the screams of dying men. I took a team, and we tried to get to those closest so they could receive medical treatment. That's when I was nearly drained."
"All the blood," Jessica whispered, horrified for Garrett and his men.
"Yes, I'm sure it was all too tempting," he mused. "I was left alive after being bitten, however, and my screams of agony were lost among the hundreds of others."
Jessica realized that that she couldn't cry, could do nothing to show Garrett that she realized just how painful his memories could be. She reached out a hesitant hand to her mate and rested it against his shoulder, offering something solid to bring him back to the present.
Garrett registered the movement, but for once in his second existence, didn't feel the need to flinch away from the contact of another. "I managed to crawl off before morning came; I didn't know what was happening; however, I knew something was very wrong with me. I didn't even realize where I was going until I was thirty miles from the town in which I resided."
Jessica had a sinking feeling then, that the worst of his story was yet to come.
"It was night when I finished, and at that moment, I felt the sharpest of pulls coming from the direction of home," he took a shuddering breath to steel himself. "I followed it, needing to satisfy the urge, to quell the aching inside.
"I entered my home, and there sat my wife in front of the fire, our child, a year and a few months old, sleeping in a bassinet to her right. She looked up at me, her face shocked, but was almost immediately overjoyed to see me, happy that I wasn't among the dead. I went to her, I held her to me, I felt safe for the first time in days; but then I felt her pulse.
"They were my first."
/ * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \ / * \
A/N: Jessica needs to figure out who she is and what she wants.
Garrett's first meal was his wife and very young child.
A/N #2: Also, I had to humanize Alice. I couldn't help myself. And if anyone were going to be a friend to her, you know darn well it would be someone in fashion!