A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I'm only borrowing her characters for a little while. The plot and original characters of Longing do belong to me, however. Jasper as the God of War and Peter "just knowing shit" are ideas that belong to Idreamofeddy.
Thanks to my beloved sister Shelljayz, my beta, prereader, best friend, and who was instrumental in helping me write and edit this chapter. Thank you to Laurie Whitlock, my fabulous beta and friend. Also, a huge thanks to juliangelus for prereading. Your feedback was invaluable.
I so appreciate each and every one of you who have read, followed, favorited and reviewed Longing. I have now reached just over 600 reviews, which is nothing short of awesome.
Something that needs to be clarified: Though I have gone in to great detail about how capable and knowledgeable Bella is of killing, she has not actually killed anyone. Though having blood on one's hands does mean that you've killed someone and she had that inner thought in the outtake, it means something different to her, though not far off the true meaning—something that will be explored further later on.
So finally, the true Halloween part of the Halloween chapter! I have to admit I'm just a bit nervous about this, but I hope you'll find Emmett and Peter's plans for trick-or-treating funny.
oOo
Sunday, October 31st, 2080
Later that afternoon ...
BPOV
"What is this, Alice?" I asked.
In a sense, I already knew what it was. Emmett and Peter had decided it was their job to pop my Halloween cherry and were taking me trick-or-treating. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I'd known practically since they'd hatched the idea. Therefore, I understood that the outfit I was holding was a costume. I just had no clue what the hell it was.
"It's a Halloween costume!" Alice chirped brightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
I had known before I moved in that Carlisle and Esme Cullen broke the mold when it came to liberal parenting, but I hadn't expected them to go so far as to let their coupled-off children share bedrooms, and that's where we were: Edward and Alice's bedroom. It was where she'd been keeping my costume.
Edward was perched on their bed, looking on at his girlfriend with a fondness that seemed entirely too deep for a seventeen year old boy. He moved his eyes to me and gave me an apologetic smile and a half-shrug that told me he'd been on the receiving end of an Alice fashion ambush.
"That I can see, Betty," I replied. "But what is it?"
"Betty?" she queried, her face scrunching in confusion.
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Sometimes when I look at you and you go all 'Bouncy Miss,' oddly, all I can think to equate you to is Betty Boop on speed."
"Betty Boop on speed," she mused. "That one's new ... I like it!" she proclaimed enthusiastically, grinning and letting out a musical giggle. Edward was also grinning and laughing. They made this sickeningly perfect harmony that I couldn't decide if I liked or found grating.
Since I found myself smiling back, I guessed it was the former. I, however, did not giggle. The Cullens were making it way too fucking hard not to like them. Goddamn it!
"You're a Mord-Sith," Alice said, finally answering my question.
"As in a Sword of Truth Mord-Sith?" I asked, but I could see it now. The blood red, skin-tight leather catsuit with the yellow crescent and star across the stomach, the thick, off-hip, tooled red leather belt with the many buckles that connected to the matching weapon's sheath which wrapped around the upper right thigh and housed an Agiel—a thin, red leather rod with a delicate gold chain at one end meant to clasp around its owner's wrist—it was definitely a Mord-Sith costume.
"Yeah." She looked anxious as I studied the outfit. When I made no further comment, she rushed on, "You just mentioned you like those books in the car on the way to Seattle and it seemed like a good idea. It was between a Mord-Sith and a Confessor because, you know, they're both badass, but the Mord-Sith outfit sounded sluttier, and it's Halloween and girls always dress slutty unless you're a nun. I know they're kind of evil in the first book, but they're good in the rest of them, and even if they weren't, lots of people dress up as evil things for Halloween—"
"Alice," I interrupted, putting her out of her misery and stopping her nervous rambling. "It's fine."
"Really?" she squeaked.
"Really," I assured her and then smiled. "It's pretty cool actually."
Alice let out a sigh of relief and beamed at me. "Oh, good! That's good."
Edward came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I told you it would be fine, love."
Alice sagged back against her boyfriend and let out a happy, contented little sigh. Edward smiled and kissed the top of her head.
Gag! It may have made me want to vomit, but it was sweet, and they were happy, so I decided I needed to let my aversion to sappiness go. Just because it wasn't something I could have didn't mean I had to hold grudges or have an attitude towards those that did.
"You're going to look hot in that, Bella," Edward said as he propped his chin on Alice's head. "My Ali does exquisite work."
"You've definitely got the body to pull it off," Alice agreed. "It's another reason we decided in favor of that one."
"We?"
"Edward and I came up with it," she explained.
I gave him a questioning but amused look.
Edward shrugged. "I'm a guy. Ali wanted a guy's opinion, and I definitely wasn't thinking with my upstairs brain when I got a load of that!"
My amusement and surprise must have been clearly displayed on my face. So pretty boy is a typical, horn dog guy after all.
It wasn't that I thought he was a prude or anything. Despite the fact that I'd overheard him and Alice many, many times in the days since I'd moved in, and he was constantly making sweet little gestures towards her, he hadn't stricken me as overtly sexual.
He just smirked, and I couldn't help but grin and snort a little.
"He helped me make some modifications to it too," Alice said.
"I prefer to call them sluttifications, but that also works," Edward remarked, still smirking.
"Can I help you get ready?" Alice asked, sounding shy.
I almost grimaced at her tone but didn't. I could make myself look damn hot all by myself, but I didn't like seeing the normally exuberant girl looking so uncertain. I had promised Dr. Cullen I would be respectful of his family unless they gave me a reason not to be. Alice had been nothing but nice to me. I could do this for her.
"You can help," I said. "But we collaborate, and if I don't like something you suggest, I put the kibosh on it and that's the end of it."
Alice squealed and clapped excitedly. "Of course. Thank you, thank you, thank you! This will be so much fun!"
Shit! What the hell did I just get myself into?
"You get to play Bella Barbie just this once and that's it," I told her firmly. "And I reserve the right to bitch and moan, if I so choose."
"Deal!" she squealed again.
"She's really great at tuning people out when she gets into maniacal fashion mode," Edward warned.
Alice rushed to their bathroom and came back with an armload of beauty supplies, and unloading them onto her vanity.
Oh God, kill me now! Why are you doing this again? I groaned.
"That's my cue to make a quick getaway," Edward said, getting to his feet.
I gave him a pleading look.
He held his hands up. "Hey, you made your bed. Just because you pull out the puppy dog eyes doesn't change that. The only puppy dog eyes I am required to give in to are hers," he said, pointing to Alice. "But when the curling iron, mascara, and all the rest of that girly shit makes an appearance, I'm out."
Alice pulled out her own puppy dog face.
Edward scowled at her. "Don't you pull that face out, Alice Cullen! I have my dignity, and I do, on occasion, like to claim ownership of my balls."
I thought her last name was McCarty, I thought with a frown.
Alice pouted, prancing up to him and hopping up. He caught her, and she snaked her arms around his neck.
"Now if you need help putting your Cleopatra costume on," he said as his arms wrapped around her waist, "I'm your man."
Alice pressed her lips to his. When she pulled back she was smirking. "Oh, I'll let you know," she said. Then her face turned serious. "Now get out already so Bella and I can make some magic happen!"
I crossed my arms over my chest as Edward walked out. "I'm offended by that."
Alice shrugged. "It's not the hot part that will take the magic. We need to get you into the Mord-Sith mindset. You've got the attitude down, but we've got to work on the other stuff."
"Other stuff?"
"You're going to be Mistress Bella for the night," Alice elaborated. "Having an attitude and getting dominant are a bit different. We've got to get you in the proper frame of mind."
"And you know this how?" I asked, dreading what she would say. I wasn't sure why I'd bothered asking the question. I didn't want to know the answer.
Alice just gave me a mysterious smile.
Thank God!
"You know, Edward may have decided to stick around for this if he'd known," I pointed out. "I'm glad he didn't, but still."
"Why do you think he doesn't?" she replied. "I'm a confident and beautiful girl, but that doesn't mean I want my boyfriend drooling over another one. Now how do you feel about these?"
Alice reached beside her bed and came up holding a pair of blood red leather, knee high stiletto boots with a six inch heel that matched the color of the costume exactly.
"They're boots," I responded. "How should I feel about them?"
She rolled her eyes. "We're going to have to work on that," she sighed. "I suppose what I should have asked is can you walk in them?"
I smiled. "I've got that covered, Betty."
oOo
One Hour Later ...
JPOV
Edward and I were in my room getting ready for the evening's festivities. Everyone else had paired off: Alice with Bella, Charlotte with Rosalie, Emmett with Peter, and Carlisle with Esme.
Edward's Marc Antony costume truly showcased more of his mate's brilliance. I was going as a firefighter, a costume that was Alice-approved. I wouldn't have cared if it wasn't, but that made things easier.
Surprisingly enough, things between Edward and I were remarkably unchanged. I'd been anticipating feeling the urge to avoid him since my revelations about Savannah and Maria, but I didn't. He was distinctly lacking awkwardness or stilted mannerisms in my presence, and it was business as usual between us—giving each other shit and all that other brother stuff that came with the territory. It was a relief, and now that I saw how he'd reacted, I was starting to genuinely think it wouldn't be such a bad idea to come clean. It wasn't that I'd ever doubted my family's support, but the wariness was there. The intense need to protect them from whom I'd been hadn't lessened, or maybe it wasn't them I wanted to protect. Maybe it was me. Maybe I didn't want them to know who I'd been then because I hated the idea of feeling so fuckin' exposed. I didn't relish the idea of re-opening those wounds. In actuality, those wounds had never healed. Opening up about them would be more like rubbing salt in them.
I wasn't ashamed of who I was per se. I hadn't known any better until Peter and Charlotte came back for me. It didn't make the things I had done okay, but being born into this life the way I had been, in the environment I had lived and been taught, made the guilt less intense and easier to swallow. Was I sorry for all the lives I had taken and families I had broken apart? Absolutely, but it didn't eat at me the way Edward's transgressions sometimes ate at him. Even though my guilt wasn't as much of an issue as it probably should have been, it didn't negate the hundred years of bloody battles I had tucked away in my head. Maybe if I wasn't a fuckin' empath that shit wouldn't haunt me the way it did. Then again, maybe my gift had nothing to do with that. I would never know. What I did know was that the shit that haunted me the most were the things Maria and Savannah had done to me. The things I'd told Edward were only the tip of the fuckin' iceberg, and I couldn't fathom the prospect of having to rehash that shit with the rest of the family just so I could make them understand me a little better. Didn't they already know what really mattered?
But Edward's reaction did change things. No matter how much I fuckin' despised the idea, maybe it would lift this weight I couldn't seem to shake off my chest. Maybe I would actually feel better about it all when all was said and done and all my shit was out in the open. What was that old adage? "You never know until you try." At the very least, I owed Carlisle the respect of letting him in on what was really going on, especially now that a human was living with us. If I snapped, Bella would be in the line of fire. If precautionary measures could be taken, they needed to be. I supposed that was the clincher. My decision was made. I would start out with Carlisle and see how things went. Once that was done, we would proceed from there.
"Did you know Alice was making this for me?" Edward asked, frowning as he looked over his Marc Antony costume.
I didn't even bother to hide my smirk. "Something wrong, Ed?"
He scowled at me. "I didn't say that," he snapped. "But you didn't answer my question."
"I helped her with it actually," I said casually.
"You helped her?" he stammered, his incredulity obvious both in his expression and emotions.
I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest. "Why wouldn't I?" Edward raised his eyebrows at me. "What? Maybe I don't love her in the same way you do, but I do love her," I informed him. I would have reinforced the statement with a projection, but that was still a no-go. "So I griped about it a little, but then she pulled out the big guns."
"The puppy dog face?"
I nodded. "You know no one can resist that shit."
Edward groaned.
"You don't like it?" I asked.
"It's beautiful," he answered grudgingly, and I could feel his genuine admiration. "Everything she makes is. It's just a little … short."
I let out a sharp bark of laughter, and Edward scowled at me. I held my hands up in surrender. "Hey, I told her she should lengthen the hem. It's not my fault she didn't listen."
Edward winced, and I knew he was getting "what for" from Alice through his gift. She must have had a vision of our little conversation.
"Did you just get a slap on the wrist from the wifey?" I teased. Edward picked up the button-down shirt I'd been wearing earlier but had taken off and left on my bed. He wadded it up into a tight ball and threw it at my head.
I caught it effortlessly and tossed it in the laundry hamper. "Honestly, what the hell is it with people throwin' shit at my head?" I huffed, nearly growling in my annoyance. "You, Peter, Bella, the list goes on and on. Would you care to enlighten me, Professor X?"
"I can't speak for the others but, for me, it's just fun," he responded with a shrug and some amusement. Then his emotions turned sly. "Speaking of Bella …"
I immediately went on my guard but managed not to let my spine stiffen and jaw clench. I knew without a doubt that I would not like where this conversation was going to go but in the spirit of opening up and all that shit …
"What about her?" I asked innocently.
He didn't answer right away, first stepping into his tunic and arranging it properly. I took the opportunity to shimmy out of my jeans, dress in a pair of cargo pants that always made Alice squirm when I wore them, replace my short-sleeved T-shirt with a long-sleeved, white thermal one and lastly pull on the pull-over bunker pants of a fireman's fire response gear. Then I attached the suspenders and tugged on the steel-toed bunker boots that went with the uniform. I left the turn-out coat on the bed to don later.
Edward was making Alice help him with the rest of his costume. He didn't need it, but it was a mate's prerogative apparently. My personal opinion was that he wanted an excuse to get her hands on him.
"I think you'll like her costume," he told me, smirking.
"Oh?" I responded. My ears had perked up at the mention of it, but I didn't want to let on just how interested I was. I wasn't sure if I was successful. The echoes of Alice telling me that Halloween was the perfect excuse for women to dress up as shameless sluts was on a loop in my head, and I was having trouble focusing.
"She's going to look hot," he carried on, bending over to lace up his Roman-style sandals. I cringed.
"Dude!" I exclaimed. "Bend at the knees, and put on some fuckin' boxer briefs. I do not need to see that shit!"
He glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "First of all, I'm wearing boxers because that is my underwear of choice, which is none of your concern, by the way. Second, it's not like I did it on purpose, and third, it's not like you haven't seen 'that shit,' as you call it, before." He smirked again. "Don't be a prude."
I glared at him. "First of all, the last thing I am is a prude. Just ask your wife."
"Bastard," he growled, but he wasn't that irritated by my comment. It was nice that we could joke about that now. Even so, I ignored it and continued on.
"Second, you just stuck your ass, which is currently clad in a short as shit tunic, up in the air like a bitch in heat," I pointed out. His eyes narrowed. "And third, I could not give a shit what kind of underwear you sport under whatever Alice stuffs you into, but boxers provide absolutely no twig and berry coverage or support while in that get-up! You might as well just go commando, which is totally your choice, but may I just remind you that there is now one person residin' in this house who has not been scarred by the sight of your junk?" I finished, going to my dresser, pulling out a pair of my boxer briefs and tossing them at him.
He caught them, his expression and emotions on the cusp of amused but only for a moment. Then they shifted into bewilderment as he tucked the boxer briefs under his arm, slipped off his underwear and replaced them with mine, but I didn't quite buy it. There was a slightly false quality to them that tainted it all. I was suddenly suspicious.
"Burn those when you're through with them," I said distractedly. Then I decided to get things back to where they'd been. "You were talkin' about Bella's costume ..." I trailed off impatiently, still glaring. I needed to change the subject and get the visual of Edward's cock out of my head.
I just threw up in my mouth a little, the Major gagged.
Join the fuckin' club, asshole.
"Why do you even care what she's going to be dressed as?" he questioned. "You hate her, don't you? You 'just don't mesh,' right?"
The fucker sounded a tinge smug. My glare darkened. "Right."
He studied me for a few moments, and I ground my teeth.
"Do you want to know what I think?"
No.
Yes, the Major interjected like a total bastard.
"It wouldn't matter if I said no, would it?" I asked.
"Nope," he answered.
"You have been married to Alice for way too damn long," I remarked irritably.
"I will never have been married to Alice for way too damn long. I will never be married to her for long enough," Edward returned. "What I think is that you don't hate Bella nearly as much as you say you do."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really," he said. "In fact, I don't think you hate her at all."
"We have a little heart to heart in the woods and suddenly you think you're an expert on the inner workings of my mind?" I snapped, getting angry.
Edward was not intimidated by my anger. I couldn't figure out if that made me more angry or if I felt relieved by it.
"Not in the least," he responded easily. "But you don't generally buy birthday presents for people you hate."
Damn it! I'd really been hoping no one would find out about that.
"Ali saw that, did she?"
Edward gave me a disbelieving look. "Did you honestly think she wouldn't?"
I shrugged and sat down on the edge of my mattress. "A guy can dream."
"Why didn't you say anything about Bella's birthday, Jazz? How do you even know about it?"
"She mentioned it in passing. I don't even think she meant to tell me," I answered, and that was absolutely not a lie. Bella had gone on the defensive in Louisville when I'd mentioned her age, and she'd revealed her birthday without stopping to truly consider if she actually wanted me to know. "And I didn't say anything because I can't picture her bein' thrilled with Alice's idea of a party. Really, Ed. Your woman would probably string up every inch of the damn property with some sort of pink and get a cake big enough to feed fifty."
Edward chuckled affectionately. "That's my Ali."
"You're the reason that party hasn't been green-lit, aren't you?"
The look on his face said it all. "And it really took some doing."
"I swear you are walkin', talkin' Xanax for that girl," I whistled lowly. "And you love it, don't you?"
"Yep," he said.
I shook my head at him, smiling at his happiness as well as Alice's. I thought it was great that they were happy and so sickeningly in love. Sometimes I wished I could find the idea appealing for myself, but I just couldn't.
"Hey," Edward poked my shoulder playfully, "maybe my girl gets crazy enough to need Xanax sometimes, but she's my crazy, and I'm her neurotic, and that's how it's supposed to be."
"Good for you," I said, half-sincere and half-sarcastic.
Edward tossed a bookend at my head this time. I caught that easily as well. "Ass."
"And that's how I'm supposed to be."
"You don't see yourself very clearly, Jasper," he replied with a frown. I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued without giving me the chance. "I don't think Bella hates you as much as she lets on either."
"You're fuckin' kidding, right? We are talkin' about the same girl, aren't we? Brown hair, brown eyes, yay high?" I sputtered incredulously, holding my hand at shoulder level.
"That would be the one," he said patiently, channeling Carlisle.
"Have you gone blind or deaf?" I demanded quizzically.
Edward rolled his eyes. "No, I have not gone blind or deaf and, no, I am not the world's first senile vampire. You might be though."
"Your balls must have grown three whole sizes since yesterday, Ed," I joked. I was genuinely curious about what he might say though. Just because I couldn't read Bella well didn't mean she was a mystery to everyone else, did it? "You must be so proud."
"You were the one who just got an eyeful, so you would know," he joked back. "But seriously, Jazz. I truly don't believe she hates you the way she makes it seem like she does."
"Alright, I'll bite," I said. "What is this great evidence of yours? And I still have not said that I like her, just that I don't hate her."
Edward snickered. I growled. He lost the smirk and smugness, and the growing red tint around my vision faded.
"When she thinks you're not looking, when she thinks no one is looking," he said, "she watches you. Sometimes it really does seem like she wants to gut you with a knitting needle or something, but there are other times ... Well, she just looks like she's trying to figure out what planet you're from."
I knew Bella watched me on occasion. My skin felt electrified when her eyes were on me. It wasn't nearly as intense as when we touched, but it was there. Did that mean I knew it every single time she looked my way? I had no fuckin' clue, but Edward had no reason to yank my chain. That still didn't mean shit; it didn't make anything any fuckin' clearer.
"Yeah, well, when I figure out what planet she's from," I snarked, getting to my feet and finally shrugging on the matching fire response gear turn-out coat of my costume. "I'll let you know. Until then, you're full of shit."
oOo
It was seven, and all of us were pretty much ready to go trick-or-treating. Alice and Edward looked amazing as Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Edward still wasn't thrilled with how short his tunic was, but how beautiful Alice looked in her costume was distracting him from it. Rosalie was gorgeous, but unoriginal, as a blonde Jessica Rabbit (the girl would not, under any circumstances, dye her hair). Carlisle and Esme were perfect as Bonnie and Clyde. I had no idea what Charlotte was dressing up as until she came sauntering down the stairs with a predatory gait that would have intimidated anyone—even a fellow vampire.
I laughed out loud. "Have I told you lately that I love you and the way you think?"
"No, but you don't have to," she said with a grin.
She was dressed as Selene from the Underworld movies as a tongue-in-cheek taunt to the Quileutes. Since her character killed Lycans, it would do exactly that if we ran into any of them, and that made me a little giddy. Carlisle's emotions demonstrated that he clearly didn't approve, but he kept his mouth shut because he understood our frustration. He had promised Billy and Talise Black that they could keep an extra close eye on us when Bella moved in to reassure themselves that she was safe and we didn't hurt her, but that didn't mean it didn't piss me, or the rest of us, the fuck off. In part, their wariness had to do with the mere fact that she was living with a family of vampires, but the majority of it had to do with her living in a house with two vampires who'd only recently converted from a human blood diet to an animal one. It was true that Peter and Charlotte occasionally struggled with their bloodlust, any vampire who gave up our natural food source would, but they had those urges much more under control than I had at this stage. What they struggled with most was the desire to tear out the throats of the teenagers at Forks High that annoyed the shit out of them, and that had less to do with bloodlust and more to do with wanting to end that annoyance. Of any human, Bella was the last one they would drain, no matter how delectable she smelled. The revelation that Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Emmett and Rosalie had killed vampires to protect their tribe hadn't much changed their opinion of us or affected their belief that we wouldn't hurt her. Killing other vampires in a war was one thing, but killing others of our kind in any other situation was a big deal, and they had to have realized that on some level. That still didn't appear to matter to most of them. Planting Leah Clearwater as a waitress at Bella's place of work was a fuckin' insult, not just to Pete and Char, but to all of us, and I wanted to kill them all for it. Carlisle had no problem with it because he was Carlisle, and that made it even more irritating.
The only ones that knew what Bella's costume was were Alice, Edward and now Bella. After Edward's comments, I was now curious as hell what it was. As for Peter and Emmett's costumes, only they, their mates and Alice knew what they were. Those two were dead-set on it being as much of a surprise as possible, so they'd done their best to block Edward. Well, Emmett did. Peter didn't have a problem with that, but Em, who was notoriously awful at it, had done surprisingly well as had Alice, who hardly ever tried, even though she wasgood at it. We were all curious to say the least. They came downstairs a moment later, but those of us that hadn't been in the know still could not figure out what the hell they were.
The two of them were wearing full-length, black trench coats, what looked to be combat boots and rubber old man masks. They were both radiating mischief.
"What are the two of you supposed to be, exactly?" Edward asked, frowning, still obviously not able to read their minds.
Emmett and Peter simultaneously whipped open their coats, twirling around in a quick but still human-paced circle so all of us could get an eyeful of what was underneath them … and man did we ever get a fuckin' eyeful! What the trench coats were concealing were bodysuits that perfectly matched the color of their pale skin, boxers and what looked to be paper mached, super-sized dicks and balls which were made of what, I could not for the life of me figure out, hanging out of said boxers.
The incredulity of everyone who had not known what their costumes were going to be was fully apparent.
"We're flashers!" they cried simultaneously.
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" I exclaimed, still too shocked to laugh.
Rosalie rolled her eyes. "This actually surprises you?"
"Well, no," I admitted now that I'd had a chance to digest what I'd seen—Em and Pete had closed their coats, thank God! They also pulled off their masks, complaining about the overwhelming smell of the rubber and not wanting to wear them until it was absolutely necessary.
"Then what are you bitching for, Jazz?" Emmett asked, bewildered.
"Maybe he's bitching because, despite how well we know you, you're both still absolutely ridiculous!" Edward barked, but his amusement was still plain.
"How much time did the two of you spend paper macheing your own dicks?" I asked.
"Perfection takes time, Major," Peter said. "And I am absolute perfection. I had to do myself justice, and this equipment needs delicate handling, if you know what I mean," he finished, waggling his eyebrows.
I snorted. "Delicate handling, my ass," I mumbled. I was still thoroughly entertained, a bit disturbed, but I'd known that whatever they had in store for Halloween would be full of jackassery.
"What did you even make those out of?" Esme asked in morbid curiosity. If she hadn't asked, another one of us would have.
Peter grinned. "Newspaper, Oz tubes, oversized syringes, tube socks, string and balloons, plus paint, glue and all the other accoutrements."
Emmett horned in on Peter's list and launched into how they went about making them. "See, we started by rolling a section of newspaper around the Oz tubing, then we paper mached around that until we got the right shape and finished up with the paint job. After that we took the tube socks and—"
"I do not want to know all the technical details of what went in the construction of … those," Edward interrupted, gesturing toward their costume "parts."
"Who's the prude now?" I snickered.
Edward glowered at me. "Just because I don't want to know about it doesn't mean I'm a prude, Assper!"
"Wow! That's original," I mocked.
"And look!" Emmett yelled gleefully, he and Peter again throwing open their coats. "They're fully functional!"
With that, both of their fake dicks went erect, we all heard the rasp of what I assumed was the plunger of the syringes, and a white liquid came shooting out of the tips, hitting the wall with a splat.
Esme and Carlisle choked. Alice's trilling laugh echoed through the living room along with Edward's, Charlotte's, Rose's and mine, but then I scowled as a thought occurred to me.
"You try to shoot that shit at me, and I will rip your real dicks off and hide them where you will never find them again," I threatened menacingly. I had a decent sense of humor, but getting faux-jizzed on was not my idea of fun, and I was not kidding. I would gladly rip their actual junk off and hide it if they even looked like they might attempt it.
"You're no fun," Em pouted.
"That's a great threat, Whitlock," Bella's voice sounded from the stairs as she descended them. "I think I'll store it away for later use, though I promise I won't use it on you. Using a person's own threat against them is just in bad taste, unless it's a revenge thing, and that threat would most definitely not apply in a vengeance scenario between us since I lack that particular body part."
My eyes snapped to her as she reached the bottom step and, Holy fuckin' hell!
There she stood, hair pulled back in a loose braid, and dressed in a skintight blood-red leather catsuit with a yellow crescent and star across the stomach that laced up the outside of her thighs, sides, back and the under sides of her arms but somehow still allowed for movement. The collar of it went halfway up her neck but wasn't molded to her skin like the rest of it was for one simple reason—Bella had the nearly invisible zipper holding the outfit together from the front zipped so that it pulled her neckline into a deep V, revealing a healthy amount of cleavage, but not so much that she was on the verge of falling out of the damn thing. It had a belt with buckles and some other shit that I didn't really register because my brain was short-circuiting, and all my venom was pooling south. When she walked forward and I heard the sharp clack of her shoes against the wood floor again, my eyes travelled downward, lingering on her still delectable ass for a little too long before I finally made it to the tops of her matching boots, which started at her knees and ended with deadly-looking, six-inch black stiletto heels. Her legs were miles long and still nothing but lean muscle. I wanted to lick them or hook my hands behind her knees and wrap them around my waist.
Fuck me! The Major and I hissed in unison. It was a good thing these bunker pants were so loose because I was so hard, it was ridiculous. I was considering going to search the garage for duct tape to strap that shit down, knowing Alice wouldn't see since the Major was half in control of me almost all the time these days, thus blocking her visions, when Bella's mouth dropped open in shock. Emmett, who had been just as distracted by Bella's costume as I was but for entirely different reasons, had forgotten to close his trench coat when she'd entered the room. His emotions were disgruntled, and he was too busy scowling at how little her costume left to the imagination—the way a real big brother would if his little sister came downstairs dressed like that to have the presence of mind to cover that shit up. His monster paper mached cock was still standing at attention, much like my real one was, from his and Peter's little demonstration, and her eyes were glued to it with appalled fascination. The sound of her blood speeding up as it rushed through her veins and how it would inevitably spread over her skin in what I envisioned would be a beautiful blush flooded my ears, its heady scent assaulting my nose. I fixed my eyes on her face to watch as it bloomed. It was just as gorgeous as I thought it would be, that lovely pink cascading across her skin from her hairline and disappearing down beyond the leather of her costume. My dick twitched in my pants.
You're gettin' a free pass for usin' the words 'bloomed,' 'lovely' and 'cascading' strictly because that blush is so fuckin' hot and worth starin' at like a stalker freak, you jackass! The Major sniped. But you keep that shit up, and I will tear you a new asshole! How about you grow a pair and pin her to the wall again? You know you want to. Icertainly want you to.
No! I growled furiously. I am not pinning her to the fuckin' wall! But the Major was right. I wanted to ... badly.
Why the hell not?
Because I don't want to have to explain myself or make her hate me any more than she already does, I snapped.
She liked it the last time. She'll get over it.
That could be the reason she hates me, dumbass! I pointed out irritably.
Why do you give a fuck? She doesn't matter to you, right? He smirked.
No! But if I pin her to the wall, I'll get ripped apart. How do you propose we'll pass that off?
Pfft! The Major scoffed. You can rip every single vampire in this house apart even without your gift, and you would do it if it meant you could have her.
You certainly have delusions of grandeur, don't you? I remarked, annoyed. I wasn't fuckin' invincible.
And you seem to have developed an inferiority complex! He was right to a degree though—I could take on many vampires at once and take them apart without getting a scratch on me. Still, I wasn't fuckin' invincible.
I rolled my eyes, but ignored that comment. No, I would not rip every vampire in this house apart, especially not for her!
Fine! The Major snapped. But do not come bitchin' to me about the epic case of blue balls you'll have later, fucker! I have absolutely no problem with you suffering the consequences of bein' a pussy for not gettin' some pussy!
Asshole!
You're the asshole! I'm you, remember?
The sound of Bella's laughter brought me back from my ridiculous but heated argument with my alter ego. She was bent over, her right hand propped on her knee and her left forearm braced across her stomach as her sexy, throaty giggles filled the room. If my dick was hard before ...
Emmett and Peter were grinning. Emmett hadn't necessarily wanted to show off his paper mached "assets" to Bella because of how he viewed her, but the whole point of this was to get her to have fun and to make her laugh. So far, they were succeeding.
Alice decided that now was a good time to head upstairs, her emotions patient, knowing and oddly amused. She'd had a vision about something, that much was for sure, but I shifted my focus back to our leather-clad human. It was impossible to ignore her just as it was impossible to ignore the throbbing in my groin.
Bella's amusement helped Em to overcome his aversion to soiling her innocence, and he decided, instead, to continue to amplify it. He cast a sideways glance at Peter, and they came to an impish decision. Their gazes zeroed in on Edward, but Edward had either been tipped off by one of Alice's visions, Emmett's thoughts or both because he darted forward at a quick but still human pace, shoving Em in the shoulder. He knocked into Pete, and they stumbled awkwardly, Em spinning one way and Peter jerking in the other. The not-so-secret spooge ambush they'd planned went horribly awry—Emmett's shot hit Rose in the cleavage and Peter's struck Carlisle square in the crotch. Both of them gaped, dumbfounded.
Rosalie's face contorted in disbelieving rage, and she smacked Emmett upside the head. "Really, babe? I knew asking you to keep it in your pants was out since that," she gestured to his fabricated junk, "is your costume, but you couldn't just wait to pull your pranks until we were outside?"
"Babe," Emmett pleaded desperately. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"You ruined my costume!" she fumed, stamping her foot and clenching her fists at her sides as she glared murderously at her mate, the white substance dripping down the front of her dress.
Carlisle was quiet, his emotions bearing a taste of many things. He was stunned, long suffering, with just a trace of mirth, one corner of his mouth quirked up as he looked at Peter—Peter, who stood frozen, with a horrified expression on his face.
Edward, Charlotte, Bella and I were all fuckin' dying at this point, gasping from laughing so hard. Alice could be heard laughing as well from upstairs. Since Carlisle was one of the victims, we shouldn't have been, but we were physically incapable of not, and once we'd gotten started, we couldn't stop. Even Esme was laughing, though she was patting her mate on the back in sympathy.
Alice came trotting down the stairs then, two garment bags slung over her petite shoulder. She handed one to Rose and the other to Carlisle. Inside were pristine replicas of their original costumes. Alice had seen this and had been prepared for it. She'd also kept it from Edward, probably so things could play out exactly as they had. Charlotte, Edward and I laughed harder.
Once the house quit echoing with our laughter, Carlisle sighed. He'd been engaging in a staring contest with Pete, who still hadn't moved, the whole time. Emmett was still getting hell from Rosalie, though having a new costume to change in to had calmed her considerably.
"Boys," Carlisle begged. "Please tell me you don't plan to go around flashing people while you're trick-or-treating?"
Peter finally broke out of his frozen state and grinned. "Oh no, Doc. The only people we intend to flash are right here in this room," he assured him. "Gettin' arrested is not our idea of fun, and that's what this night is all about." He and Emmett shared a conspiratorial look. "We have something else planned for the good people of Forks."
Carlisle let out another sigh. "Are these plans of yours similar to your failed sneak attack?"
The two of them levelled Carlisle and Esme with angelic smiles, but their fingers were crossed behind their backs.
"Of course not," they chorused.
Carlisle and Esme didn't buy it for a second.
Bella's eyes flitted to the wet stains on Carlisle's and Rosalie's costumes. "What did you make that out of?"
"Water, milk, a little flour for texture, a bit of sugar to make it kind of sticky and apple juice for flavor," Peter informed her with a wink.
"Ewww." Bella shuddered, a much more subdued blush coloring her cheeks.
Son of a bitch!
Emmett's attention was brought back to her and his emotions went from mischievous to sour and irritable as he rounded on her. "And what are you supposed to be, Bella?"
All trace of the blush and humor melted from Bella's body, her spine straightened and she rose to her full height, which, in those heels, was just two inches shorter than I was. She stood there, straight and proud, looking regal, confident and really fuckin' hot without making any effort. I wanted to groan, but somehow, miraculously, held it back. Her face emptied of all emotion save for a wisp of a smile, and she flipped the thin, leather rod hanging from her wrist by a delicate, gold chain that I was just now noticing up into her hand and twirled it expertly. "I am a Mord-Sith," she answered. "And it's Mistress Bella to you, my pet."
Holy fuckin' hell! I repeated. I really needed to find that duct tape.
oOo
EmPOV
Halloween was going to be perfect. Peter and I had it all planned out and some hijinks were sorely overdue. We hadn't engaged in any real pranks since our hot dog eating contest. Bella moving in had thrown a wrench in our usual antics, which were always rooted in our vampiric abilities, and we'd needed to do some strategizing about how to have our cake and eat it too. We'd come up with a solution and were using our mad practical joke skills and evil genius against the general populous instead of against each other this time. We did plot against the family on occasion, but this was the first time we'd ever come up with a scheme to prank humans. We were doing it to make Bella laugh, but, damn, I wished we would have had an excuse to do it sooner because this shit was going to be awesome! There was a chance she wouldn't find any of this funny, but from what Peter and I had observed so far, we didn't think that would be an issue. Besides, she was a Cullen now. It was a requisite. Even Carlisle and Esme found humor in risque things, though they would never admit quite how much.
Of course when Bella came downstairs, I completely forgot about all of that. The costume she was wearing was un-fucking-acceptable!
Oh, hell no!
I was going to kill Alice for that shit. It wasn't that Bella couldn't pull it off. If I wasn't mated to Rosalie and didn't view her as a little sister, I would probably have been so hard it hurt, but she was my little sister. I didn't just think it, and I wasn't just playing make-believe. I was serious about that shit. She even reminded me of my human sister, Etta. She was fifteen when I died, and I had lived for that girl ... literally. I adored her, spoiled her, practically raised her. The hardest thing about becoming a vampire was leaving her behind, but as difficult as that had been, as much as I'd longed to change her and keep her forever, I knew I couldn't be so selfish. I knew, even as a newborn, that vampires were an unnatural thing. I didn't mind being one, was actually happy about it, especially when I woke up to my Rosie, but I knew Etta better than anyone. She wouldn't have handled it well, wouldn't have wanted it, and I couldn't do it to her. I still loved her, still missed her, but it was bearable now. That was the luxury of time.
Bella reminded me of Etta. Their hair was the same shade of brown, they were the same height and build, and they had a spirit that was never-ending, but that was where the similarities ended. Still, they were enough to make me ache. I had never confused the two of them. I didn't love Bella because she reminded me of Etta. I loved her because she was funny and honest, she wasn't afraid to give as good as she got, she'd defended us when she barely knew us—when she didn't have to defend us—and because she didn't seem to be holding Rose's bitch fit against her when, by all rights, she should have. She was still holding us all at arms length, but she was trying, and I loved her for it. There was a sadness in her eyes that tore at me, that made me crazy, that I could hardly stand and really wanted to fix. It was why I was always trying my best to make her laugh and feel welcome. It was why the feud between her and Jasper bothered me so much but not just because of her. I hated it for his sake too. He didn't deserve the way she was treating him when she wasn't pretending he didn't exist, and I didn't understand it. That was something else I wanted to fix. I just didn't know how. Jasper was a difficult fucker to read, and so was Bella. When you couldn't read people, it made it really fucking hard to figure out how to do that.
Seeing Bella in that get-up brought out my big brother instincts big time. I nearly growled in rage, so distracted by it I forgot to close my trench coat, which gave Bella a full view of my masterpiece of a paper mached cock. I'd planned for her to know what Pete and I were going to do on our trick-or-treating expedition—that was part of the point, and she had to know if it was going to make her laugh—and there was no way she wouldn't, but I'd never intended her to actually see the goods. The thing was an actual replica of my junk, though exaggerated, but not by much. What brother wants his sister to see that shit? And really, whether she'd had sex or not, I still wanted to pretend she hadn't and also that she'd never seen a penis before. That was shot to hell now, and it was my penis she had seen! Talk about awkward!
Shit!
Then Bella laughed, and as furious and uncomfortable as her costume and my idiocy made me, seeing that look on her face and hearing that sound come from her warmed me, and that shit was worth it. It was still disturbing as fuck but worth it.
oOo
"These are the rules," Peter said as we stood outside the house, all the kids gathered around, but his words were meant for me. Our prank was on humans, but we were still playing a little game against each other.
Carlisle and Esme had already left, our intention to meet them in town, and were far enough away that they wouldn't hear us.
"No kids or adults, but Forks High students are fair game. Stealth is of the utmost importance. Like I said before, we don't want to get arrested and officially branded perverts by society." It was also because we needed to keep our low profile intact at all costs. We were totally gonna Mission Impossible this shit.
"But you are perverts," Alice said.
Peter smirked. "I never said we weren't, but society doesn't need to recognize that. Besides, we're really only perverts with our women and when we joke around with the family. These," he gestured toward his crotch and then to mine, "are meant to be an inside joke between all of us. Since we have no intention of anyone else seein' our delivery system, squirtin' people is really the equivalent of hittin' our unsuspecting victims with sticky water balloons, only without the balloon barrier," he concluded, moving on. "Whoever hits the most targets wins, and extra points are awarded depending on who your target is and where you hit them," he informed me with a gleeful grin but still including the others.
"And this is what people normally do when they go trick-or-treating," Bella spoke slowly, incredulously, but amused. It wasn't exactly a question.
"Nope. This is something Pete and I cooked up special just for you," I boasted proudly, grinning. Rosalie slipped her hand into mine and smiled indulgently. I was glad she wasn't pissed at me anymore for ruining her initial costume. She was always surprising me with how much of my shit she put up with, and I loved her so damn much for it. She loved me no matter how crazy I got.
"I don't know whether to feel honored or creeped out, Emmett," Bella admitted, shaking her head as she looked between Pete and me. "It would totally be the latter if I didn't understand that you two are harmless."
We split up into cars—Alice, Edward and Bella in Alice's Porsche and Pete, Char, Rose, Jasper and me in Pete's Suburban. We did change things up every now and again. We had so many fucking cars, we couldn't not. After that, we headed into town to start our quest for human candy on a route that didn't start way the hell out at our property.
Peter and I pulled on our masks, which smelled like ass, and we started moseying ... until Jasper grabbed me by the arm and pulled, slowing us down until we were lagging way the hell behind everyone else.
When he spoke, it was at vampire speed—something none of us had done since before Bella had agreed to move in just to get us into the practice of acting human—and so quiet I didn't think anyone else heard. "If we see him, nail Riley Dwyer between the eyes."
My brow furrowed, and my voice was curious when I asked, "Why?"
Jasper rolled his eyes. "He's the fuckin' quarterback and captain of the football team. He's also the captain of the baseball team. Don't you think you'll get extra points for that? It's strategy, Em. Besides, you gave me hell for the idea that I might want to fuck Bella yesterday, which I unequivocally don't, but he does, so do what big brothers do and nail his ass."
I was already pissed enough over Bella's costume, and I had noticed the way Riley looked at her. Jasper was an empath. If the kid lusted after her, he could feel it. The thought made me go a little apeshit.
"Sure thing, dude," I promised with a menacing twist of my lips. "Wait. Why do you care?"
He shrugged. "I don't, but you do, and you also want to win. Like I said, Em. It's strategy, and, of the two of us, I have the better head for it. So, if you want to beat Pete ..."
"But you and Pete ..."
"You're my brother too, Emmett," Jasper stated fiercely, his eyes flashing in the descending darkness.
I just nodded.
Esme and Carlisle went to the first six houses with us "kids" before bailing. It was a little odd that the 'rents would stick around to escort their teenagers for so long while trick-or-treating. Bella got that it was because she'd never gone before, but if they stuck around for any longer, it would be plain weird. They bowed out gracefully to go home and do "parent stuff."
Ick! I shuddered, gagging. "Parent stuff" was code for getting down and dirty since they had the house to themselves, and I didn't want to think about that. If I did, even pulling my string wouldn't get my fake cock up to engage in our Spunk War.
The first acceptable targets we came across were Mike Newton and Tyler Crowley. Before we got in to position, the others fell back, but not so far that they couldn't see the show, half-hiding so it wouldn't be obvious that Peter and I were the culprits—even though we were wearing old man masks, if the family was visible and we weren't among them, it wouldn't take a genius to figure things out.
I would have preferred Mike, but Peter targeted him first, darting behind a bush with awesome cover closest to him, so I was stuck with Crowley. I hid behind a tree. It was pretty dark, so I wasn't worried about being seen. Peter and I had been practicing squirting and bailing fast enough not to be but still slow enough for it to be considered human.
When they got close enough, I stepped just far enough out from behind my tree to hit where I was aiming for. Then I opened my coat, pulled the string that brought my fake dick up, pushed the plunger of the syringe and let my "jizz" fly. It hit Tyler just beneath his nose, and he ended up inhaling it. After that, I scaled the tree until I was high enough for human eyes not to be able to see me. That was part of the reason Pete and I had chosen black trench coats.
Peter hit Mike in his right eye. Mike let out a string of obscenities as Tyler coughed and snorted, trying to clear his nasal passages.
When Mike could see and Tyler could breathe, they let out variations of "What the fuck?" and it took everything I had not to lose it. They split up and came looking for the people responsible for whatever the hell had happened, which they still hadn't figured out. It was several minutes before they gave up and moved on, and it was safe for all of us to come out. It took us several minutes to stop laughing our asses off.
We spent the next few minutes hitting up several houses for candy before our next targets made an appearance—Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley. I rushed to claim Lauren. There was no way in hell Pete was taking that bitch from me, not after the way she'd gone after Bella.
The others followed the same pattern as before, drifting back and taking cover. I hid behind the side of a house this time while Pete ducked behind a tree. I timed it so that when I attacked, my "jizz" shot into Lauren's mouth and straight to the back of her throat with perfect aim. She went into a coughing fit, gagging and eventually throwing it back up. I smirked. It was beautiful and fucking poetic.
Pete hit Jessica just to the side of her mouth, only some of it making it in, and he didn't make her cough, gag orthrow up.
"Beat that, fucker!" I taunted him through Edward's gift.
"I admit you win that round, but the game is not over, Em," he said.
Jessica wiped her mouth, frowning, and started patting Lauren on the back.
Once Lauren was over it, Jessica asked, "Are you okay?"
"What the hell do you think?" Lauren sneered, and I wanted to bitch slap her. I didn't like Jessica exactly, but there were worse people, and she was trying to be a good friend.
"Whatever," Jessica responded defensively. "I was just making sure you weren't going to choke to death, which at this point, I wouldn't mind!"
Nice! Go, Jessica!
They too searched for what or who was responsible for their sticky mess, but Peter and I were long gone.
When the others caught up, they were laughing, just like last time. Edward looked amused but something else too—not disapproving exactly but constipated again. It was his "I'm-trying-to-figure-something-out" face.
"Was that really necessary, Emmett?" he queried, eyes narrowing at my inner constipation comment.
"After the way she went after Bella? Hell yes!" I answered without hesitation as we started to walk to the next house. "Just call me the Angel of Karma."
The constipation face disappeared, and he smiled, obviously agreeing with my logic. I noticed with my peripheral vision that the others agreed. Bella's brows were furrowed, her expression similar to Edward's "I'm-trying-to-figure-something-out-face," only without the "I'm-trying-to-take-a-shit-and-failing-miserably" vibe. I wondered what that was about.
The same pattern repeated. It was a few more houses of candy robbery enabled by our off-the-charts beauty before our next targets—Angela Weber, Ben Cheney and Eric Yorkie—appeared. Angela and Ben were actually decent human beings; I'd feel bad about spooging them, but I had a game to win.
Bella intercepted us before Peter and I could divvy up who was going to ambush whom.
She stepped in front of us, moved her feet shoulder width apart and flipped her leather rod up into her hand, brandishing it with a menace that shouldn't have been possible for something that wasn't even a weapon. Bella sure as hell made it seem like one though. She was standing straight and regal, carrying herself with poise and confidence, her face empty of emotion but for that wisp of a smile. The only time she'd gone out of character was when she was laughing at Peter's and my antics. She was the perfect Mord-Sith. That's right. I've read that shit and watched the TV show, and they're awesome, so I was very familiar with Mord-Sith. Those chicks were warriors, but they were also dominatrixes, and it was fucking creepy how good she was.
"If you dare to even consider targeting Angela Weber and Ben Cheney, *I will teach you the meaning of pain.* You will know it like you've never known it before," Bella threatened. "And you won't like it, but I will," she said, finishing off her threat, that wisp of a smile widening in a way that disturbed me. She truly made me believe she meant it. She even looked like she knew how to make us know pain like we never had before. I actually gulped. A fucking human made me gulp. I don't even know how many man points I lost for that shit or exactly how much testosterone leaked out of my balls ... the real ones. I repeat, it was fucking creepy how good a Mord-Sith she was.
The fact that Peter also seemed a bit intimidated by her made me feel better. Granted, neither one of us was actually intimidated by Bella. We were fucking vampires, and she was human. No matter how badass she was, vampire always trumped human.
It was a battle over who got to nail Eric Yorkie. Peter won. He got him in the ear like the entrance to the canal was a damn bullseye. He smirked at me all cocky-like.
Bastard!
"Still doesn't beat my throat shot, asshole!" I argued through Edward's gift before he could say something to the contrary.
"It so does, Neanderthal! That was a way smaller target!" He countered.
Damn it! Peter was right about that, but my shot totally still eclipsed it. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Angela and Ben stood there, wide-eyed for a moment, as Eric shook his head like a dog, doing his damndest to get Pete's handcrafted spunk out of his ear. Angela stayed with Eric, asking him if he was okay in a bewildered tone of voice and rubbing little circles on his back, while Ben went to investigate. He didn't find anything, of course, and they moved on quicker than the others.
Peter and I were both getting low on ammunition, so we took the time to switch out syringes before continuing on our trick-or-treating expedition and what I was now calling "Pin the Spooge on the Unsuspecting Dumbass Humans."
Just two houses later, as luck would have it, we happened upon Forks High's beloved quarterback, Riley Dwyer, and Gavin Nichols. Gavin was on the football team with Riley. I didn't think they were friends, but I rarely paid attention to the teenagers at school—I found humans fascinating but only if they were interesting, and the only human even remotely interesting at that place was Bella—so I wasn't sure. From the absolute silence between them, I guessed I was right, but that wasn't relevant to our game, and I didn't particularly give a fuck. I turned briefly, made eye contact with Jasper, and we did that little upward nod thing that we guys do before I launched into action.
It was another house I took cover behind that time, and it was to Riley's left. Just like I'd promised Jazz, I nailed the fucker right between the eyes, making sure to swivel my hips so that it got in them too and then threw my arm up in an exuberant fist pump.
He shoots! He scores! And the crowd goes wild!
Pete sprayed his shit all over Gavin's ass. It made him look like he'd been freshly bent over a couch arm and made someone's bitch.
Riley swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, cursing as they watered and stung, but he and Gavin did not react passively the way all our other victims had. They didn't wait around wondering what the hell happened; they immediately went tearing off in the directions of where their liquid torment had come from. I raced around the back corner of the house, and, using my preternatural senses to check if I was alone (and I was), I leaped onto the roof as Riley came barreling into where I'd just been standing. He whipped his head around wildly, searching for me, but I was nowhere to be found, so he sprinted off to keep looking for the culprit while continuing to scrub at his eyes.
Peter had dealt with a similar scenario.
When the rest of the family caught up with us, it was clear that the atmosphere had changed. The majority were still cracking up. Some were most definitely not.
"Would you care to explain what you're looking so smug about, Whitlock?" Bella asked in that mildly pleasant but still dangerous voice. It was another characteristic Mord-Sith thing.
She advanced on Jasper with a determined and deadly sort of grace, her gait that of a predator and Jazz was her prey.
And the fucker did look smug. He looked as smug as I felt over nailing Quarterdouche between the eyes, and I wondered briefly if Jasper had told me the truth about why he'd wanted me to go after the kid. Seeing Bella's reaction to my attack on Quarterdouche made me wonder if she liked him more than she was letting on, and that maybe Jazz somehow knew that and had used me to pick on a potential boyfriend as an underhanded way of sticking it to her and continuing their feud. Under different circumstances I might think he'd done it because he was jealous, but Jasper was a direct kind of guy. If he wanted Bella, he would be doing something about it, and if he was jealous of Riley Dwyer, he would have taken care of it himself. At any rate, I didn't care because I'd hit my target and gotten to be a big brother simultaneously. So Riley didn't know I was the one who'd nearly blinded him. If he made any moves, I'd make sure he got a clue that his advances were not fucking welcome.
Why Bella wasn't marching her happy ass up to me and giving mehell since I was the one responsible for what she was obviously pissed about was a mystery. She was still making a beeline for Jasper.
When she got half a foot away from him, she stopped. Jasper, of course, stood his ground, looking down at her with some amusement added to his smugness. She remained unshakably in character, no emotion on her face except for the fire flaring in her eyes and that wisp of a smile.
"I don't have to explain anything to you, sugar," Jasper drawled lazily. He put extra emphasis on "sugar" just like he always did when he wanted to rile her up that much more. Calling her "sugar" riled her up no matter how much emphasis he put on it, and I wondered how he knew it bothered her because he'd seemed to know before they'd ever actually traded an insult or, scratch that, an actual word.
Bella spun her prop Agiel up into her fist again and pressed it into Jasper's throat. "You may call me 'Mistress' or 'Mistress Bella'. 'Sugar' is not acceptable, and I would suggest you tell me what I want to know, my pet."
Jasper's eyes went from gold to black like a flash of lightning streaking across the sky and abruptly extinguishing. His jaw noticeably clenched, his teeth grinding together, and his hands curled into fists at his sides, twitching every now and again as though he was trying to hold himself back. Bella was playing with fire. This was a game to her, but she really had no fucking clue who she was fucking with, how dangerous Jasper really was. I was tempted to step in, but Peter was always insisting that Jasper would never hurt her, and I believed and trusted him—I trusted them both. That didn't mean I wouldn't be ready to break things up if I had to, and I would have help with that if it was needed. Until then, none of us had any reason to interfere, and if any of us even tried ... yeah, I wanted to walk away from this night with both my handcrafted and God-given junk intact.
One corner of Jasper's mouth curled up, but, other than that and his black irises, that was the only change of emotion in his face. "Oh, sugar, I ain't no one's pet, and you sure as hell ain't my Mistress," he purred dangerously, his accent coming out more thickly than I'd heard in a very long time. "So good luck with that."
That wisp of a smile of hers widened again, but it was in a different way from when she'd directed it at me and Peter. I just couldn't place what, exactly, was different about it. "I don't need luck," Bella promised him brazenly, and then she dragged her Agiel from his throat downward—over his collarbone, his pec, his abs, right down over what would have been the guy's happy trail if he'd been shirtless, and his pelvic bone—until it rested in a very dangerous place. **"Now get on your knees, and ask for my forgiveness."**
My mouth dropped open. Holy shit! Did she really just say that?
She was taking this role play shit a little too fucking far. I really was going to kill Alice, and man, if things were different, and Jasper actually did want her ... he was in some serious fucking trouble.
Jasper's eyes flashed with defiance, rage and something else I couldn't place, and the other corner of his mouth twitched up, but he didn't respond. He just stood there, waiting, which shocked me—he normally would not stand for that shit. Waiting for what, I didn't know. And then whatever it was he was waiting for happened ...
Bella finally lost her wisp of a smile, replacing it with a full-blown saucy smirk, as she said, "Don't say I didn't warn you, my pet."
Then she moved around his back all quick-like and jarred the backs of his knees with one of her shins. She couldn't have actually done it hard enough to make Jazz's knees buckle, but he let them. He even seemed to be expecting that she would do something like that because I swore the fucker was prepared. He was just starting his descent to the pavement when she reached his front again, ready to watch him kneeling before her, but Jasper had other plans. With incredible, yet still human, speed, he clasped a hand around one of her wrists and the other on her hip, and jerked ... hard.
"If you're gonna bring me to my knees," Jasper growled. "I'm takin' you down with me, sugar."
Bella's knees hit the sidewalk with just as much force as Jasper's.
oOo
*This is a partial quote from chapter 41 of Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkind.*
**This is a direct quote from chapter 41 of Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkind.**
I can't give page numbers because I have the books on my Kindle, and they don't give page numbers.
oOo
A/N: So, there you go ... Bella's first time trick-or-treating. I'm pretty sure Emmett and Peter made it memorable. :) Hopefully everyone found it funny and not offensive.
We got to hear from Bella, Jasper and Emmett, and not all of it was pure fluff and hijinks. We got a peek at just how observant Edward really is, hear his take on Jasper and Bella's relationship and enjoy a bit more of his and Jasper's dynamic. We got to see Bella torture Jasper some more, some intentional and some not, and we got some background on Emmett, learn more about his feelings for Bella and hear his insights and take on Jasper and Bella's relationship as well. I hope everyone enjoyed all of that. It certainly was a blast to write.
I cannot take credit for Emmett and Peter's costume. That honor goes to my dad—it was the Halloween costume he was wearing the night he met my mom, and yes it was fully-functional. He is ... creative and ... quirky ... and a little off-beat, to say the least, but I love him to pieces. I have and always will be a Daddy's girl. :) Emmett and Peter heard the story of how my parents met and just ran away with it. My dad was also a firefighter, so as strange as it might seem, this chapter is a bit of an homage to him, his sense of humor and his lifetime of public service.
I do not own Mord-Sith. They belong to Terry Goodkind. He has requested that no one write Sword of Truth or Legend of the Seeker fanfic, so I hope it's okay that I used Mord-Sith as Bella's costume. Mord-Sith are warriors who are taken as little girls and broken three times in order to be made into what they are. That reminds me very much of Bella, and they act a lot like dominatrixes, so I thought it would be kind of fun to play around with that—and to torture Jasper with it a little, of course. :)
If you want to learn more about Mord-Sith, check out the link on my profile. The Sword of Truth novels are amazing. I highly recommend them, and they will be mentioned a few times in the story because I feel the theme of them fits well into Longing. That theme is that you only have one life, it belongs to you, you should never let anyone or anything take that life or the decisions you make away from you and that it is your responsibility to rise up and live the one life you are given. Those themes very much remind me of Jasper and Bella in this story, and I had those things in mind when I started to write it.
What do you all think of Bella and Jasper's little confrontation there? :) Just to reassure you all, part of their misunderstanding is going to be cleared up very soon—as in the next chapter.
If you want to see pictures of everyone's costumes, with the exception of Emmett and Peter's, you can check them out on my photobucket album for Longing. The link can be found on my profile. Yeah, I don't have pics of Em and Pete's costume. Thank you so much to Deebelle1 for the manip of Jasper in a fireman's uniform. Love ya dear! You're awesome! :)
Take care.
