Chapter Nineteen

A Vessel

Jasper took the idea of training far too seriously. Lena had expected as much. There was always a glimmer of this side of him, lurking beneath the personality he portrayed outwardly. He stood like a military man, feet a shoulder's width apart, hands laced behind his back, chin up and back straight. His movements were small, measured, precise. When he turned his head to look one way, or to acknowledge someone, the motion was smooth and minor. He welcomed the distraction, Lena thought. The ease of slipping into something familiar.

They were in the middle of the woods some distance from the house. It was a spot where the trees were a little thinned out so that the two could move around comfortably, but would be hidden in the event of some wandering hiker finding their way to them. The Cullens thought it would be the worst possible thing to happen, but Lena disagreed. Should a tasty snack be so eager to find them, she would welcome its arrival.

Even after so long with the Cullens, she still craved the taste of a human, of warm sweet blood spilling from paper-thin flesh. Venom flooded her mouth at the thought. A searing pain swept down her throat when she swallowed. She ran her tongue over her aching gums, and tried to pay attention to Jasper.

"This time, I want you to focus on keeping it from seeking you out," he said.

Lena narrowed her eyes. She had already summoned Maria five times today, and this was all becoming far too repetitive. She grimaced at the thought of seeing her face again.

"Can you not do it?" There was a taunting tone to his voice, a challenge in his words. His eyes remained on her, hard and unimpressed.

Lena shifted her weight and stood straighter. She knew it was the response he wanted and part of her felt like she was giving in, but she had her own selfish reasons for putting herself through this misery.

Her newborn strength and speed would only last for so long. Probably a year, Jasper told her. After that, she would be like the rest of them. Average. Unable to escape situations with the ease she had grown accustomed to, whether that be by strength, speed, or excuses of not knowing any better. She didn't like that. She always wanted the upper hand. She wanted to be two steps ahead of everyone around her.

Already, she had lost five months. She spent four of them with the Cullens, who tried to file down her teeth and trim her claws, and make her into somebody who could play nice with the humans they so adored.

In another seven, she would be entirely pathetic.

Power taunted her, glistened in the distance, just out of reach. If she managed to grasp it - if she learnt to control this beast, to harness her gift and use it for her own gain… Perhaps, if she were lucky, she would be unstoppable. Even Aro, with his countless guards sworn to protect him, would live in terror.

"Well?"

"Fine," she said.

"Remember, I don't want it to approach you."

She drew a deep breath, and looked Jasper in the eye. Maria's round face danced in the pools of honey, her reflection wobbling for a moment, before it stabilised. Lena could see her every feature in impressive detail - her gently sloped nose, her twisted smile, her glimmering ruby eyes catching the sunlight that passed through the canopy of trees.

The curved outline of her body rose up from the depths of Jasper's gaze. Lena could feel the fabric of her clothes. When she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, it was as if there was a rough layer of linen between them. She felt the embroidery of her corset, the string which kept it fastened. Her hair, curly but dry from the cruel heat of the sun.

She appeared slowly, turning from mist into something solid, something real standing five feet in front of her.

"Impressive."

Lena didn't think he meant it. He watched her do the same thing all afternoon.

Maria's eyes snapped open. They settled on Lena, as they always did. Her head tilted, and the corners of her mouth tugged up.

"Make it overlook you, Lena."

It was a lot easier for him to say it than for her to do it. He had the easier job. All he had to do was stand there and bark orders. Her gift fascinated him. She didn't doubt he was treating her like a pet, training her as he might have a hunting dog several hundred years ago.

He gave no pointers, only criticism or praise. His style of teaching seemed to be very self-directed. She did something, and more often than not, he pretended to be impressed, only to deliver some harsh feedback in the next breath.

She focused again on Maria, who was still staring at her creepily. Her eyes seemed bottomless, soulless.

Maria took a small step towards her, shoes scuffing over tiny pebbles.

"Make it overlook you," Jasper repeated sternly.

Go, she told it. Leave me alone.

Maria took another step.

"Redirect its attention. Make it believe you aren't here at all."

She gritted her teeth. It would be easier if he stopped talking. All he ever did was nag her. He harassed her about her diet, and her lack of control, and her faltering morality. All of his compliments were coupled with critiques. She was too hedonistic, too unreasonable, too violent, too thoughtless. They were things she didn't mind, things she considered natural. He said them with spite, like she was an abomination.

A chill swept down her arms, and she curled her hands into fists.

She could hurt him.

For all his military experience, he was weak. Lena was stronger, faster. If she wanted, she could fling herself at him now and be done with it. She would never have to hear another word from him again.

In front of her, Maria froze. She tipped her head to the side, a frown etched between her dark brows. Her eyes glazed over, and swept the area in front of her.

"Good." Jasper's encouragement was meaningless. One tiny word, swept away in a sea of negativity. "Now make her pass you. Control her, like you just did."

He didn't understand. Lena didn't control her. At least, if she did, it wasn't a conscious effort. But Jasper liked to think he was clever. All he ever did was talk, convince himself he was offering meaningful guidance. He liked to think he said things of value, as if the word good meant anything. It didn't have to. He could make people think anything was important, or funny, or sad, and it let him feel powerful.

It was a false power. Intangible. A feeling that lasted so long as he projected his gift, and not a second beyond that.

Maria turned around, and faced him.

Something in Jasper's face shifted. The hint of a smile dropped. His jaw tensed, and he stared hard at his ghost.

"Lena," he called. He said her name carefully, so carefully. Pronounced every letter as clearly as he could. "Stop."

She didn't know how to, or if she even wanted to. She quite liked this look on Jasper, this expression of uncertainty. She liked the question in his eyes, the way they darted between Maria to her and back again.

Maria took a step forward.

He dropped his weight, and kept his eyes strictly on the woman taking painfully slow steps toward him.

"Lena, stop." he said again. His voice was rougher, darker. A threat lurked somewhere in there. Lena thought it might be one worth overlooking.

She wanted to hurt him.

The realisation surprised her. The desire to inflict harm on another was nothing new, but not without reward. Killing a human meant she could feast. Killing Aro meant she could live in peace. There was no benefit to killing Jasper, nothing worthwhile, nothing particularly interesting.

She frowned. She didn't know if she wanted to stop, even with this realisation.

She felt powerful. She could bring this man to his knees, if she wanted. This man who had lived through wars, through the troubles of several centuries - she could take anything from him. She could tell, from the wary look in his eyes, the rigidity in his bones.

Jasper was afraid.

It was enough.

She uncurled her fists, and drew a deep breath. Reminded herself that this would not benefit her, that she shouldn't light fires just to watch things burn.

Maria stopped moving.

She breathed out her anger, the air shuddering in her chest at the effort. Dead things were not supposed to be interrupted like this. Dead things were not supposed to be controlled.

Lena imagined her crumbling. She imagined her turning into dust, and slipping to the earth like dirt from a child's hand. She imagined her fragmented body mixing with the soil, contaminating it with something unholy and not meant to be disturbed.

Hairline cracks ran through her, and the sound echoed through the woods. Her fingers fell first, then her arms and head, until her entire being was reduced to nothing more than a pile of powdered dust where she once stood.

Lena stared at that spot, frowning when the earth swayed. Pressure built in her chest, tight and uncomfortable. She kneaded the space between her breasts with the heel of her palm. This wasn't right. Something was different this time.

"Lena?"

She ignored him in favour of crumpling forwards. She caught herself on her knees at the last second. The muscles in her legs tightened, and the urge to run overwhelmed her, though she felt - worryingly - exhausted. She didn't need to look up to know that Jasper's eyes were focused entirely on her.

He was by her side in a second. His legs appeared in her field of vision, his sneakers stepping over the remains of a woman long dead.

Lena blinked, realising her vision was blurry. Was she crying?

Jasper laid a hand on the back of her neck. "What's wrong?"

Eager to escape his touch, she crouched down. Unfortunately, Jasper followed her.

"I pushed you too far," he said. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head, and pressed her fingertips against her closed eyelids. She wasn't upset or angry anymore. She felt sick.

"Do you want me to carry you back to the house?"

Again, she shook her head. The thought of his hands on her, of her face pressed against his chest, even for the five seconds it would take him to tear through the trees and to the house, displeased her.

"Give me a minute," she said.

"Are you certain? Carlisle can look you over."

His words were laced with guilt. She could feel it surrounding the two of them, a heavy feeling that made her stomach twist.

He thought he nearly killed her.

She laughed breathlessly. Typical, for a Cullen to be distraught at such a thought. Oh, she didn't think she would ever fit in here. She wasn't much like them at all.