The cars were forgotten outside the airport.

Hotel abandoned, suitcases strewn across the bed. Some flight attendant was checking their rosters and drawling out a list of names, tirelessly. All in vain.

We'd clambered into the modest building only a minute or two after Edward, his speed pushing him far forward. The fog of the lagging group held a worry, rage and an overwhelming something; strong and fresh. Singing and thick, it coated the interior of my chest and sent a rumble through the covens bodies. I swore we moved in sync; the only sound we'd heard since the airport was the distant din of traffic and the tick-like smash of our feet hitting the ground. We burst through the already ajar entrance, lights off, the glass on the ground glinting in the streetlight.

Bella. Blood. Tears.

The scent hung in the air, clasping onto the slick mirrors and old wood rafters. It was like vinegar - bloated, bitter, sour... the palpable mist of pain and terror. Nausea racked my body as my head numbed and my stomach twisted. A faint taste of elixir rang above, promising a forbidden opportunity; one that was squandered as soon as it was obviated. I could catch Alice and Emmett waver slightly upon their entrance, a wobble surprising their usually immovable posture. The gait of the previous steadfast clatter of shoes quieted for only a moment. This would be a problem.

I clenched my jaw, steadying my thoughts. It would not help if we all were all immobilized by repulsion; Alice lined a small hand on my left shoulder blade. I nodded, failing to hide the strained look on my face as Emmett flanked me, Rosalie beside him. In a matter of moments, I had solved my disgust with a sufficient thrust of relief, pushed outwards to the rest of the coven.

Clashing and metallic screeching filled the space, echoing throughout the hall; attention now drawn to the next room.

Edward had the upper hand over James, the blonde's chest to the floor, his head bent back over Edward's foot. At any thrash from James, he would tug harder on his hair, a defiant sneer splayed across his marble features as he drove his foot deeper into the trackers' back. His perfect hair tossed to the opposite side, the elbows and shoulders of his button-down torn from excessive force. His golden eyes flashed towards mine, fury burning hot. I set my shoulders back, responding back as I pushed confidence away from my chest. I knew there was desperation there, hidden under the impeccable mask of fury. The subtle tremor of his muscles indicated they were at maximum force; he could break at any moment. I nodded and settled.

We're stable. On your move.

And then in a moment the top half of James was ripped from his lower; the blonde hair escaping his tie at the back of his head, dancing in the air as his torso launched towards Emmett and I. Avoiding the desperate thrash and clamps of his wayward bites, we caught both of his hard arms and pulled. Emmett stabilizing his weight to tense the trackers' shoulders, with a drastic turn and immense force I struck down his middle, tearing his centre apart, driving a foot into his spine as marble cracked and crumbled. His head rolled forward, his arms grabbing at the floor. His nails left deep gashes in the deep wood, crawling towards each other from opposite sides of the room.

Rosalie, turning as Esme and Carlisle ran towards Edward and I assumed Bella, stalked up behind her mate. No doubt knowing we didn't need backup anymore, I could hear the hushed words fleeing between my father and brother. Her eyes, alight with bubbling hate, watched as she lifted her boot-clad foot and brought it down on the snivelling head of James. His jaw and forehead crumbled easily, looking like a shattered bust. His scalp stuck to her sole, thick hair wrapped around the gray suede; in a sneer, she growled as she slid her boot along the floor.

I pulled the floorboards up with my left hand, the wood splintering under the force, my biceps still tensed with unexecuted battery. I pushed the urge to reattach the tracker to his body and stretch his demise much longer to the back of my mind; such thoughts had been vacant for quite some time. I had grown comfortable with the coven. Too much so. Hearing a faint heartbeat putter lazily, I just mildly became aware of the blood for the first time since we'd laid eyes on James. My skin still rippled with force, the walls of emotional security threatening to fall in wake of despair haunting the air. Once ablaze, the shimmering purple smoke billowing up and collecting on the high ceilings, I turned to Alice; a mild look of rage fluttered off her porcelain face as her gaze settled back onto me, shock spiking her features. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, her mouth hanging slightly agape; I could see the venom shine from her eyes. Confusion immediately seeped into my bones, as I instinctually took a step toward her. This odd change of demeanour was not unplaceable, it was a vision obviously; but what was this sharp jolt of alarm ripping through the air that stung like alcohol on a wound?

The tracker is dead, his mate maybe? Tactical panic began to replace the confusion as I stood tensely, watching as Alice reeled from her vision.

"Oh, God." Esme's clear voice shook from across the room, the first word uttered since we'd left the airport.

My eyes sticking to Alice for a moment, I turned my head to face the human girl.

The light from the fire basked her delicate features in a soft warm glow, while the moonlight from the high windows overpowered the warmth; the white cut her features with a harsh line, her dark brows drawn up and together in pain. She moved unbelievably, looking far too broken to turn as she was, her mouth and eyes desperately sealed, almost as if she was having a nightmare. Faint wailing groans and whimpers escaped her clamped lips as she tried to squirm away from the pain, Carlisle setting her jagged, oddly positioned limbs. His face, set in a stony look of despair, winced only slightly upon each particularly desperate sound. Esme was the perfect painting of a mother: her eyes, shining with venom, flitted at a vampire speed across the human's body, hands held inches away from her warm skin; fingertips twitching with unapplied comfort. Bella's jacket was open, her plinth of milky skin marred by already harsh bruising, creeping up her side and past where the shirt would allow me to see. I could feel the blood I did not have begin to boil; my frozen lungs began to tremble with a repressed snarl at the thought. I felt my face twitch, the strange reaction lost on me.

Edward, looking far too calm for his emotions, set his steely gaze on the human's face. He cradled her head in his thin hands, cool fingers splayed across her flushed forehead. His second hand disappeared into her deep waves, stabilizing her neck.

All the vampires in the room stood stock still; it struck me how much like statues we really appeared in the moment. Towering over our prey as she struggled towards death. I frowned deeply, feeling the sides of my hard cheeks wrinkling paradoxically.

Carlisle was the only other figure moving, hands quick and measured. Only his arms seemed unfixed- his back stood straight and tense.

I felt Alice shift beside me, just registering her golden irises still trained on me; her arm lifted imperceptibly, but never landed on my shoulder blade in a motion I was expecting. The confusion fizzing in my stomach hitched, unease replacing its intensity at this increasingly tense scene.

Before my eyes could shift to my wife, Edward's tenor slid harshly against the echo of the room, panic colouring his tone.

"Carlisle!"

His eyes were wider now, as his fingertips dug stronger into Bella's dark locks. I felt my eyebrows furrow, pushing my gift further; I focused the whirring behind my eyelids to his ethereal figure. I hadn't noticed a change- my focus set onto my peripheral.

I heard the change before I could sort out the jumble that Edward contained within himself: the beat of Bella's heart giving up halfway through a motion, cutting itself short, before stuttering to a weaker second.

Her scent, filling the air, hit me in waves. The first was familiar, matching the air of when we walked into Forks High a couple of months ago; a swirling mix of bubbling lilacs and soothing vanilla. The slightest tone of freesias always dragged behind her; that's what lasted on Edward clothing the most. Something bloomed past that milk skin that marred bruises from that fucking nomad. A sourness, sickly viscous, hit me strongly, freesias coating my nostrils in a moment before disappearing; I stopped breathing then, lessening the scent.

And then the spice in the vanilla disappeared: it mellowed, almost picking up a citrus. Something turned lighter, fresher, younger. A mint swirled subtly past my nose, catching my notice. I felt like laughing at the situation: Venom does the strangest things.

Her heart continued to struggle; this young girl, barely 17. Her willowy frame splayed amongst glittering glass. My thoughts turned to Charlie. To Renee: her parents that she so cared for. Her parents that either way, she would never see again.

Alice inhaled harshly beside me, her hand fully coming to clasp over her rose-tinged lips.

Rose spoke then, her eyes coloured with clear melancholy. I thought I almost saw her painted lip quiver.

"It's reaching her heart."