A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I'm only making her characters do my bidding 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.
Thank you to my awesome beta/pre-reader and sister, Shelljayz, and my pre-readers, juliangelus and deebelle1. I love you all.
Thank you also to everyone who has followed, favorited, reviewed or just stopped by to visit. I apologize for not responding to all of your reviews this time around. The past few weeks have been trying and I lost track of who I had and who I hadn't gotten a reply to.
Sorry about the lateness of the update, guys! RL is to blame. Provided things go according to plan, I will be following my regular posting schedule and updating again next week.
oOo
Wednesday, December 23rd, 2080
JPOV
I'd had genuine fun with Bella yesterday. She never ceased to amaze me, and that, unfortunately, included how she'd managed to manipulate me into talking to her again. Of course that had absolutely infuriated me too. Not even Peter could pull my strings that well. I hadn't even had a goddamn clue about it at the time. Maybe it was because I couldn't feel her emotions, but I suspected she would have been able to get away with it even if I could have, and I wasn't even angry with her anymore! Two months ago—hell, maybe even two weeks ago—I would have been able to hang on to my fury with a vise grip. Not anymore. And I didn't even really care about the manipulation so much. This love shit really fucked with everything, didn't it? That didn't mean I wouldn't put her in her fuckin' place if she tried to make a habit of it. If there was one thing I would not stand for, it was being manipulated, no matter how brilliantly.
Still, I appreciated that she cared enough for it to bother her that I'd been avoiding her, so much that she'd felt compelled to do something about it. I also loved that she knew how to lift my spirits and that visiting Chaos was exactly what I had needed. Even Peter, who always knew what I needed, wouldn't have known that. And the things we accomplished? The things she taught me? No one else could have done any of that for me, and no one else would have been able to coax the shit out of me that she had. And of course, she had, yet again, shocked me with her easy acceptance of my past feeding habits and Carlisle's solution to my current dilemma, despite that she took the deaths of humans very seriously.
She really was very logical, seeing and understanding the world in a way anyone rarely did, able to separate her personal feelings from cold reality to find acceptance in things that just were because she was right. Some things couldn't be changed and the natural order of everything was one of them. Vampires survived on blood—human or animal. When one wasn't an option for whatever reason, one had to rely on the other. It was that aforementioned cold reality, and that was what had kept me from wanting to tell her what was going on with me. Of course, I did anyway because Bella fuckin' Crawfield drew shit out of me that I never intended to share whether she tried or not. Sometimes she did it with words and sometimes merely with those brown doe eyes of hers that nearly always succeeded in wrecking me. It made me feel like an asshole, but I had yet to figure out how to thwart it. Side effect of love, I suppose. How fuckin' awesome!
She'd gotten me to take the leap into finally sharing with her why I had been avoiding her, which wasn't as surprising as all the rest, and that wasn't manipulation so much even if she had used manipulation to get me there. It was her ability to make sound arguments and her simultaneous patience but no-nonsense attitude that bordered on impatience that did it, and I was glad I had listened to the gut instinct I'd had to share my insecurity with her, no matter how hard that had been to do.
Though I had been relieved to resolve that particular issue, it was tempered with bitterness. The knowledge that Bella had wanted me in the alley in Louisville had made my fuckin' day; hell, my year, but then she had followed that up with the speech about how it was merely a moment that had passed, one of meaninglessness, that turned the initial warmth I'd felt at her revelation to ice in my veins. It wasn't that I didn't already know all that, but to hear it said aloud, and by her? It was more brutal than I had ever imagined it would be.
Even so, at least we were back on good terms, which made what I was about to endure minutely easier. Not less pissed off over it but still easier.
Carlisle wasn't at the treaty line with us today. Something unexpected had come up at the hospital that only he could properly take care of. It was some sort of emergency surgery he hadn't gone into the details on. He'd only had enough time to grab the bags of blood he'd set aside for me and pass them off to Edward before being rushed into the operating room. Of course he gave me a brief lecture about getting my ass to the meeting with the wolves on time before he left the house. It would be during that time that I would again attempt to drink human blood whether he was there or not. It was annoying and infuriating as hell and part of me had been seriously tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove that lecture.
Edward had been Carlisle's second-in-command but now that our fearless leader was off saving lives at that cesspool of human disease he called his place of employment, our telepath had stepped in to fill his shoes as the vampire boss man for this particular meeting. Emmett had been sent in to fill Edward's post of second-in-command for many reasons. He had been there when the original treaty was put into place whereas Peter and Charlotte were not and were new to the area and animal blood diet. I was unfit for the role because I hadn't been there back in 1936 either nor since I was the "problem" at present, and the family hadn't come back to settle here since then. They had come back to the area many times, mostly between moves to other places for a couple of months and as a vacation spot every once in a while, but I had never been with them when they came back and dusted off the treaty with the Quileutes. Instead I spent that time with Peter and Charlotte.
The other pluses to Emmett taking over Edward's role? He was just about the same size as most of the wolves, and though he wasn't gifted in the traditional sense of the word, he had never lost his newborn strength. Also, he knew more about what was going on with me than any of the others that could have stood in as Edward's second. Emmett's presence wasn't a power play exactly, but it did send a message: our leader isn't here but our best warriors are. Don't test our resolve.
Charlotte was the only one of the women, aside from Bella, who knew about my feeding situation and the idea proposed to deal with it. That was how it started out per Peter's insistence. Now it stayed that way because of mine. I loved Rosalie, Alice, and Esme but their presence here wouldn't bring anything to the table.
As I approached the treaty line, alone just as I had the last times we'd done this—human blood one day, animal the next until I could keep one of them down—all eight of the wolves that had been here the two times before as well as my two idiot brothers and slightly less idiotic sister materialized in the early morning fog as though I had parted the ends of a fluffy blanket. They were waiting because I had made them wait, purposely showing up twenty minutes past the agreed upon eight o'clock hour on principle. I hadn't asked for their help and I sure as fuck didn't appreciate their interference. It was my throat they were trying to force human blood down. I should make them wait all fuckin' day. But then I remembered my conversation with Bella yesterday about how there was nothing else besides animal and human blood, how I couldn't not feed forever, how if I fought this, I might snap and hurt someone—that even though I was in love with her, I'd go crazy enough that that wouldn't matter and I would hurt her. I could not allow that to happen. I could not hurt her, so I had to keep trying, as much as I loathed the idea of sucking down human blood from a plastic bag. The only upside to this shit was that when I inevitably threw it up, I got to punch Peter in the face.
And that is always fun, the Major piped up.
For you, I bit out irritably. I only enjoyed punching my brother when I had a good reason to; other than that, punching him didn't make my top ten favorite things to do. I happened to have a good reason at the moment, so enjoying the crack of my fist to his all-knowing face was allowed.
I strolled to the whole irritating group of them, vampire and wolf alike. My pace was leisurely and unconcerned for the sole purpose of pissing them off. The wolves were easy targets and were predictably agitated by my disregard for punctuality. My family members were unimpressed, but I hadn't expected them to be bothered. Emmett was grinning, in fact. He admired my ability to know precisely what would get underneath a person's skin and use it to my advantage.
"Nice of you to join us, Jazz," he greeted me cheerfully. Emmett hadn't been this happy since before we'd come home to find out about Bella and Gavin. I didn't know what to make of it, but I sure as hell was suspicious. There would be time to question his abrupt change of mood later.
I briefly considered mouthing off but decided against it. As much as I loved insulting the wolves, saying anything to them at all would suggest they had won somehow and fuck if I would ever give them that impression or satisfaction.
I marched to Edward, who already held a bag of blood in his hand, and snatched it from him with no small amount of animosity. Then I turned my back on them all. Feeding was a private thing and the only reason I hadn't better concealed myself the first time was to prove a point—that I was defiant but I was still doing this by my choice alone, despite Peter's guilt trip. Since the point had already been made, I went back to preserving the privacy I preferred.
The blood was O positive this time and the scent of it pervaded the air as soon as I ripped the cap off. It smelled vaguely familiar but I couldn't place it, and I didn't have the patience to bother trying to. Placing my mouth on the blasted bag, I took a tentative pull ... and my eyes rolled back in my head as the flavor exploded on my tongue.
Oh my fuck, that's good, the Major and I groaned in unison. It was so good in fact that venom rushed south and my dick throbbed painfully with it. God, I had never tasted anything so amazing in my life.
After that errant thought, I had to concentrate hard to get the situation in my pants under control. I still had to face the wolves after this and I would not do that with a fuckin' hard-on. I certainly had plenty of unpleasant images stored up in my brain to take care of the problem, but the continued assault of this ambrosial blood on my tastebuds made it nearly impossible to focus; especially as I greedily sucked the contents of the bag down like a parched alcoholic with a bottle of aged whiskey and the shakes. It was gone in a flash, with me moaning in pleasure the whole time and when I was done, I stood there, the bag clutched tightly in my hand and breathing heavily—like I'd just had the best sex ever. My body was buzzing, filled with warmth and energy, and I felt better than I had in weeks. The burn in my throat had barely lessened though and neither had the hollow feeling of starvation. I needed more. God, I needed more.
As soon as it was safe to turn back around, I tossed the empty blood bag carelessly to the ground and raced to the cooler in a blur, gathering it to me like the starved, blood-crazed vampire I was. I moved behind a tree and crouched protectively over it, fully prepared to tear anyone that tried to take it from me apart. It was mindless and animalistic; I was mindless and animalistic, but I was too far gone to give a shit. Weeks of bloodlust-induced edginess bordering on insanity was what ruled me now, and nothing and no one else mattered. I tore in to the next bag with my teeth, not even bothering to remove the cap—some splashing on my T-shirt—and finished it just as fast as the first. I was able to savor the third one a little more and the fourth one even more. By the time I got to the fifth, I was able to sip the blood leisurely and with true appreciation. I managed to down all six bags without irritating my gag reflex or my nausea intensifying, and the noises I made as I did it were just as pornographic as they'd been with the first. My dick was so fuckin' hard it was agony.
I may have been embarrassed by all of that if I gave a fuck, but I didn't. Not about the fact that I'd almost come in my pants like a fuckin' fifteen year old mouth breather and that the wolves, whom I hated, were there to see it—well, hear it more like—nor what they thought of me in general.
I leaned back against the trunk of the tree I had used to shield myself, still breathing hard, and closed my eyes, letting the scant warmth of the sun heat me as much as it could while I let myself relax a little. I pretended like I was the only person in the forest as I basked in the marvelous feeling of being fed for once. I'd nearly forgotten what that felt like.
Then I had a thought. If I ever met the person whose blood was in those bags, they would be fucked.
I felt a presence standing over me and opened my eyes to see Peter there, smirking.
"Told ya so," he gloated.
I shot to my feet and punched him in the face.
oOo
Two hours later, Peter, Emmett, Edward, Charlotte and I were miles away from the treaty line, on our land—Cullen territory. I had wanted time to myself after my successful feed for many reasons: to retain the peace of finally sating my thirst, to take care of my hard-on once and for all, and to just be left alone. I really just wanted solitude more than anything else, but I wasn't allowed to have that. No, I had to be fuckin' babysat since I had drunk human blood and so obviously enjoyed it, and I couldn't say I wasn't bitter about the hovering. I hated being treated like a naughty little kid who couldn't be trusted. Still I understood that it was a precautionary measure. It was needed to ensure that the first taste of human blood I'd had in half a century—well, technically the third if you counted the two I'd thrown up—didn't send me into a murderous frenzy. We wouldn't want the good people of Forks to end up like all the empty, crumpled blood bags I'd tossed thoughtlessly aside when I was done sucking them dry, now would we?
Of course not, the Major grumbled, a hint of mocking in his tone.
However, all of Peter's reassurances that I wasn't a danger to Bella, even as a half-starved madman, were ones I was starting to believe again … as long as I continued to keep from throwing up, and I didn't know how likely that was. That was the bigger picture though and I wasn't truly concerned with the bigger picture at the moment. I should have been, but I was much more interested in the smaller picture, the one that meant I could be around Bella and not doubt myself every fuckin' minute.
The small mercy of said babysitting was that between all my brothers and sister, they had managed to use their considerable charm, skill at manipulation and ability to know exactly how much intimidation to use—the latter two solely in Peter and Charlotte's realm of talent—to convince the wolves that their presence wasn't needed to monitor me after I'd consumed all that human blood. It took every ounce of that talent, but ultimately, the wolves never had a chance.
The four of them had just hunted and reeked of their kills. I was no crazier about the scent of animal blood, or animals period, than I had been yesterday and all the weeks since I'd been unable to keep any blood at all down. Though it was vastly better, my nausea wasn't quite gone, and the thought of drinking any blood besides what I just had in those bags wasn't appealing. Still, I was going to keep trying and if it didn't work, I would continue to alternate until animal blood again did the trick. Because it would. I refused to believe I would be on the human diet forever. I couldn't be. It was too risky—a slippery slope type of deal. Besides, I was required to keep trying until I got back to it. It was part of the agreement Carlisle had made with the wolves, and no matter how I was getting human blood—blood bags or no—feeding from animals had always been an unspoken condition of the treaty.
"What's got you so chipper all of a sudden?" I asked Emmett when we had all met back up—me never having been out of Peter and Charlotte's sight and now never out of the other two's either, Edward's in particular so he could use his gift to show the wolves proof that I had, indeed tried to drink animal blood—and he was done pulling himself together. There was time for the exploration of his abrupt mood change now, and I intended to take full advantage of the opportunity.
Peter, Charlotte and Edward all settled down in random spots to observe this little interrogation of mine, interest piqued. Edward's emotions were different than Peter's and Charlotte's. His interest was different. He wasn't surprised by Emmett's change in mood but he really was curious as to how all this would play out.
"A guy can't just be happy?" Emmett demanded lightly but with an edge of defensiveness to his voice and emotions. Mostly he was his typical good-natured, laid back self though. "I generally am, or have you forgotten?"
I ignored that. "You've been pissed off and sullen for a week—since the Bella and Gavin incident. You pitched a fuckin' fit when you found out what I did, or rather what I didn't do. Now you're all smiles and kumbayas. You don't think I don't know there's something up with that shit, Emmett?"
"Answer me one thing first, Jasper," he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a tree. "And then I'll tell you what you want to know."
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," I countered. Just because he had information I wanted didn't mean he could manipulate me. There had been too much of that shit lately, with Peter and again with Bella yesterday. The two of them were one thing—I owed Peter and Bella caught me off guard—but Emmett was entirely another. I would not let him control me.
"Stubborn asshole," he grumbled. That made Peter and Charlotte grin. It would have made me grin too if it wasn't necessary to keep my expression serious.
I waved my hand in an impatient gesture.
Emmett got the clue that if he didn't ask now, he wouldn't get another chance to. "Why didn't you kill Gavin Nichols?"
That question automatically had me wary, sent my hackles straight up, but I answered anyway. Peter and Charlotte had convinced the others to let me take care of that little shit, giving them no outlet for their own rage and need for revenge. I had no idea why any of them, let alone everyone, had let them. The fact that Emmett had asked this combined with his suddenly cheery mood left a sour taste in my mouth, and I hoped it didn't mean what it potentially could—that he might have taken matters into his own hands.
"It took every bit of self-control I had not to," I said through gritted teeth which had nothing to do with Emmett and everything to do with the truth of my statement and how much it pissed me off. "And God, you have no idea how much I wanted to, how much I still want to. Everything in me wants it, but it's complicated."
"Explain it anyway," Emmett directed, eyes not stony but hard.
"Bella," I said simply, shrugging.
"Bella?" He was filled with disbelief, confusion and fury over that one word, her name, my reason. "She's the reason you should have killed him, Jasper, not the excuse you used to be weak!"
I wanted to march up to him, ball my fists in his shirt and toss him away from me, hard. Then I would leap on him and show him exactly how weak I wasn't, but I didn't. How could I explain this? He and Rosalie, more than anyone else needed—deserved—closure. He was annoying the fuck out of me right now, but I would try to give him that.
"She's got a code, Emmett," I began to explain, pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts. This needed to be coherent and cohesive without giving too much away. I only knew about this code of hers because of our time in Louisville and I couldn't reveal that we had seen each other there. "No matter how much Bella might hate someone and the things they've done to her, how they've treated her, and the potential consequences of that, she's got honor. She wouldn't want whoever it was dead over it. I can't say this for sure, but I think she prefers a different type of comeuppance, a more subtle but just as devastating kind," I mused, the thought just now occurring to me, and I wasn't just saying that because of how I had gone about taking care of Harpy Bitch. The idea felt more right even if she had a tendency to show mercy where none was earned or deserved. "If she found out I killed that despicable, delusional, sick jackass—and she would because she always figures that type of shit out—she would hate me, Emmett. It violates her code, her sense of honor. She would never forgive me, and maybe Bella won't ever love me, but I love her. She can't hate me. I can't do something she'll never forgive me for. I had to at least try to respect her code and abide by it," I said, and then I smirked. "But Gavin will give me a reason to break her code that even she won't be able to deny. He won't be able to help himself. Then that shit goes flying out the window and all bets are off. I will kill him. I don't often give second chances, and I sure as hell don't give third ones. He will die."
The Major and I had decided this almost immediately after we left Gavin's the other day, Bella's opinion be damned. What we'd done had been satisfying, but not nearly satisfying enough, and I was right. Gavin would fuck up and she wouldn't be able to argue the need for him to die. Then she couldn't hate me for killing him.
Panic flooded Emmett's emotions but only registered on his face for a moment before he composed himself. I found it curious that a milder form overtook Edward. "How could you possibly know that? About Bella and her code?"
Another question that required a delicate but solid answer. "I've seen it in action."
I didn't know how else to put it so I kept it simple with no inflection in my voice. If I sounded confrontational and defensive they would all assume I had something to hide and push me, which would be worse for them than for me. But since I did have something I wanted to keep from being unearthed, nonchalance was the way to go.
"Well," Emmett choked out before clearing his throat, still sounding mildly panicked. When he spoke again though, his voice and emotions were stronger. There was more confidence and conviction in them ... determination ... and I was brought back to the uneasiness of what his flip-flop from sad and furious to joyful and satisfied could mean and what had caused it. He straightened his shoulders. "Sorry, Jazz." But he really didn't sound it. "But you're not gonna get that chance because Gavin is already dead."
He let those words sink in and I had to admit, I was disappointed and pissed off. Before I could wonder what the hell he was talking about because I wasn't actually sure he wasn't bullshitting me, Emmett enlightened all of us ...
"I killed him last night," he announced, voice the strongest it had been since he opened his mouth after my own explanation.
Son of a bitch! the Major cursed. Please tell me he didn't just say that.
Unfortunately, he did.
Fury. Powerful enough to bring a red tint to the edges of my vision.
That was our kill, damn it! he raged. Even if we didn't do it the other day, we still had dibs, and he fuckin' stole it! That is not cool!
No shit, I agreed. So much for Peter and Charlotte convincing everyone to let me handle this.
Maybe we should kill him, he suggested darkly.
Really? I questioned with overt sarcasm.
What? he asked innocently. It's only fair.
You're ridiculous, I snapped. We can't kill Emmett!
I was pissed sure, but Emmett was family. He was one of ours. We didn't kill our own. That's not how we worked.
Why the hell not? the Major demanded.
You know why, jackass!
I swear, you are—
"Could you possibly leave me in peace for five fuckin' seconds!" I exclaimed irritably. "I can't think when you won't shut the hell up!"
"Not meant for us?" Peter guessed.
My gaze snapped to him, only realizing I said that out loud after he spoke. Emmett and Edward were staring blatantly, trying to figure me out. It was annoying. I didn't confirm Peter's suspicion.
Either way, remarkably, the Major heeded my request.
"And how did you manage to pull that off?" I asked silkily but with ire.
—Flashback—
The night before ...
EmPOV
Edward and I had decided to pay Carlisle a visit at the hospital before he got off work at seven. We had last minute Christmas present strategy to discuss and his office provided us with a modicum of secrecy.
He was on rounds when we arrived, so we waited for him, shooting the shit as we did. It was twenty minutes before we heard and smelled him enter the hallway that led here. He wasn't alone.
"It really isn't a good idea," Carlisle was saying, uncharacteristically annoyed. "But his mother is insisting on it. All I can do is make diagnoses, implement courses of treatment and make recommendations in the best interest of the patient's health. Whether or not those are heeded isn't something I can control nor is their decision to take him home against medical advice."
"I know, doctor," his companion said. "I'm just wondering if you did your level best to convince her she's making a mistake."
Carlisle's footsteps stop abruptly. "Are you suggesting that I chose not to abide the oath I made when I became a doctor, Nurse Thatcher?"
She was quiet for a moment. "I would never suggest that, Dr. Cullen, but I know what happened with him and your foster daughter—"
"Daughter," Carlisle corrected immediately, which made Edward and I smile.
"Your daughter," she amended. "It would be very human of you if you didn't do your best to convince Gavin Nichols' mother that he shouldn't be discharged."
The "very human" bit drew a snort from me. One would almost think that she had a clue we weren't human, but all of us knew better. She was just using it as a turn of phrase, but it amused me nevertheless.
At the mention of Gavin Nichols, my ears perked up and I sat up straighter as I continued to eavesdrop—more purposefully this time and less because it couldn't be helped. This could be the opportunity I had been waiting for.
It had been eight days since us guys had come home to find out what had happened with Bella and that asshole. Eight days since Jasper had put him back in the hospital but not ended his miserable life. Eight days of biding my time because I meant what I'd said to my Rosie. Jasper hadn't killed Gavin Nichols. Now I was going to, and it was better this way. Really.
With the way Jasper had lost it when we found out, I doubted he would have been able to go about it with a clear head, and that's what something like this needed. Planning, rationality, patience. He may have put the guy in the hospital, but he had left questions in his wake. People wondered how Gavin managed to re-injure himself and worse, and his hastily concocted story of falling down the stairs didn't appease everyone that mattered. Police Chief Dwyer, for example. The guy was dangerously intuitive, though he didn't precisely know who to blame for Gavin's accident and wasn't trying particularly hard to get to the bottom of it. Sure, he was making it look like he was trying to figure out what had happened to appease Gavin's mother, who had pointed him in Carlisle's direction for whatever reason according to Edward—he had purposely gotten a speeding ticket so he had an excuse to go the the police station to eavesdrop. What he had picked up on through his gift had told him that Phil Dwyer was merely putting on a show. He had never liked the kid, never trusted him, always had a bad feeling about him. He had been around enough criminals from his time on the Special Victims Unit in Seattle before moving back to Forks that he could pick up on the signs, and apparently, he'd noticed some of those in Gavin. He had tried to help but it had been hard for him to find excuses to insert himself into the kid's life enough for his attempts to make a difference. That was what made Gavin's death even more necessary.
That was also why I had to be the one to do it. Jasper was generally always the level-headed one, the one who got his hands dirty in order to protect the family if that was what was needed. He did it not just to keep us physically safe but to save us from all the other repercussions. It wasn't something we'd ever asked him to do, but he figured that since he was already fucked up and had already done a bunch of shitty things in his life that a few more wouldn't hurt and was willing to endure what came along with all of it so we wouldn't have to. He never said it of course, but we all knew, and we let him because there was no stopping Jasper Whitlock when he decided to do something.
He separated himself from his emotions and got the job done no matter the consequences that would come later, but he couldn't separate himself from this. He loved Bella, and despite the remarkable restraint he'd shown in only injuring Gavin Nichols, if he ever did kill him and I didn't think it would be much longer before he couldn't resist, it would be messy. I doubted there would be much left of the little douchebag but unrecognizable scraps, and as much as I would have liked to do that myself, it would draw too much attention. Gavin couldn't just disappear. Everyone had to know he was dead even if they didn't know it was murder. They had to understand that if you pulled the kind of shit he had, karma paid you an unpleasant visit. If Jasper got hold of him, there would be no doubt it was murder because once the blood started to flow, there would be no reining him in. I had seen that in his eyes the moment he'd found out about what went down. Therefore, the responsibility of ending this fucker fell to me. As much as I wanted to rip him apart, in this instance, I had to be the one to separate myself in order to do what needed to be done to protect the family, and I could ... because I had to. Gavin would die. My revenge would be sweet whether I got to kill him the way I really wanted to or not. I was doing the world a favor either way.
"I'm helping you," Edward's voice sounded in my head through his gift.
My eyebrows rose and my voice was dubious, "Are you?"
His gaze turned steely and cold. "Why do you all constantly underestimate me?"
In the distance, we heard a fellow doctor rush down the hall to Carlisle and beg him to come the emergency room for a consult.
"I will be there in a bit, boys," he said to us, voice low and at vampire speed.
Neither of us gave a response because we were locked in a staring contest. I was studying Edward while he challenged me.
"I don't underestimate you, Edward," I said after a minute. And I truly didn't. Edward wasn't soft but he had ... conviction. His moral compass was, by default, set on North and it had been fixed there with industrial vampire-strength glue. "But you, more than any of us, are Carlisle's son."
A grim smile twisted my older brother's lips, and to be honest, it was kinda fucking scary. "Yes, I am."
"And that's not a bad thing—" I placated, thinking I had offended him, though Edward didn't offend easily.
"No, it isn't," he agreed. "Would you like to know why?"
I frowned. I already knew why being Carlisle's son was a good thing. I'd been living with them for the past one hundred forty-five years ... but then Edward flooded my head with images and I finally, truly, understood what it meant to be Carlisle Cullen's son.
I had always known that our father's views on pacifism didn't make him weak. If anything, it made him strong. In most cases, walking away took a hell of a lot more fortitude than getting violent did, especially considering that the urge to throw down was a million times more potent for a vampire than it was for a human when we were threatened. It was a primal instinct for us, but he had always been able to resist that … unless he felt a situation couldn't be dealt with with pacifism. He had long ago accepted that there wasn't always a place for nonviolent negotiation in our world. That wasn't how vampire society generally worked, even if there were those that were civilized enough to go along with that strategy of his.
In the case of human relations, pacifism was the only way for my father figure to go. Why? Because we were vampires. As I have always said, vampire trumped human every fucking time, which is pretty damn awesome in my book. If we used anything other than pacifism, we flashed neon signs at the fact that we weren't normal. Imagine my surprise to find that Carlisle had threatened, in vague terms mind you, death to Gavin and his parents if they so much as stepped another toe out of line. It made me want to do a happy dance that may or may not have included pirouettes on their fresh corpses and again on their graves. Was it a slightly morbid impulse? Yep. Did I care? Nope. I have my moments.
This newfound knowledge about my father brought me a profound sense of relief. It gave me hope that when he found out what I had done, and I wouldn't lie about it or even attempt to hide it, he wouldn't be disappointed in me. Enduring a disappointed Carlisle was one of the worst things I ever had. It had only happened once—Carlisle didn't disappoint easily—but I tried my damndest to make him proud as a result.
"I may not have cared about Rosalie on a personal level when Carlisle turned her," Edward ground out, "but I grew to consider her my sister, to love her, and you weren't the only one who lived the aftermath of what happened to her. We all did and still are, just the same as you. Bella is my sister too, and maybe what Gavin did to Bella isn't the same, but if you think I don't want to stop him from growing into the kind of person who might do something much worse later on, you don't know me very well."
Those words touched me in a way I couldn't describe. I had never truly considered what the toll Rose's issues might have taken on everyone else over the years. Sure, I knew her anger had grated on them, even driven them crazy on occasion, but never whether or not it affected them in any other way. I felt kind of like a dick for it, but the fact that Edward—and the rest of the family—loved us both enough to suffer with us, as sucky as the situation was, made my heart ache in my chest.
"Okay, fine," I relented.
Edward nodded, nothing more.
Now we would wait for Carlisle, and first we would do what we'd initially come here to do—discuss last minute Christmas shopping—and discreetly pump Carlisle for whatever information we could during the conversation. It was too bad we hadn't brought Peter, if only for his expertise in subtlety. In comparison, I was like a rampaging bull in a china shop, and Edward, even with his gift, wasn't nearly as smooth as our other brother was. As helpful as he would be, we couldn't ask him for help. For whatever reason, Jasper hadn't killed Gavin, which still surprised the hell out of me, not to mention how disappointing it was; I couldn't take the chance that Peter's loyalty to Jasper and his insistence to let him take care of it might make him attempt to stop us, because he could, and I wasn't about to let that happen. There was no fucking way.
oOo
Edward and I had lucked out. The Pacific Northwest had gone and been its typical self, the sky opening up in a torrential downpour not thirty minutes after we left Carlisle at the hospital at half-past six. We'd spent those thirty minutes and the subsequent ninety in the woods along the highway, searching.
We had the time. Thanks to meddlesome Nurse Thatcher, we'd overheard that Gavin wouldn't be discharged until nine. His mother wanted to wait until his father could be there, and he'd had to work late, which worked out brilliantly for us.
We were hoping our labor would yield a tree, a very specific kind of tree. One that was just a hairsbreadth away from toppling over, and it had to be in a very particular area. Gavin and his family had to drive less than two thousand feet along the 101 highway from the hospital to the turn-off that would lead them to their house. Despite that we were vampires, that didn't provide us with a huge window of opportunity to arrange for the accident Edward and I intended to stage to kill Gavin. Though we could have used our superior speed to find this tree, and we did to a certain extent simply because it was unavoidable, we took our time just to make sure we found precisely the right one.
The slightest of taps to said tree, applied with just a finger, would leave no evidence that there was anything other than nature at fault for Gavin's death; and on the off chance the wolves got suspicious that the bastard who'd laid his hands on Bella had suddenly found himself nothing more than a road rash, the rain would wash away any trace of our scent and thus, any trace of our involvement.
Edward and I had divvied up our roles in this murder. I would fell the tree—unfortunate collateral damage in our quest for vengeance—while he would make damn sure we got the right car and finish the fucker off, just in case the tree didn't do the job. That was unlikely, but I had to give him that after what he'd said earlier.
We sat behind our selected tree, soaked to the bone, as we waited the approximate forty minutes until Gavin and his parents showed up. As it happened, it took them forty-two.
"It's game time, Emmett," Edward informed me long before the Nichols' car came into view. The humans occupying it were strangely silent, only the sound of their breathing and heartbeats filling the space. It struck me as somber, almost akin to a single car funeral procession before the need for one arose. That would soon be fixed.
I nodded and got to my feet, bouncing on the balls of them in anticipation. It wasn't long before the headlights of the Nichols' Lexus came into view and I readied myself. Soon all this would be done.
Gavin sat reclined in the front passenger seat, his father driving and his mother just behind him so her son could lean back as far as he wanted. I would try to angle the tree so his parents didn't meet the same fate as their jackass offspring, but if I couldn't manage it? Oh fucking well. Like the tree, they would be unfortunate collateral damage, but I wouldn't lose any figurative sleep over it. Edward might lose a little, but that was his burden to bear.
And five …
Four …
Three …
Two …
One …
Timberrrrrr!
With one infinitesimal flick of my wrist, the tree went crashing down right on top of the car with startling force. The frame of the roof on the passenger's side crumpled like a potato chip bag in a balled fist. I heard the crunch of bones and the splatter of blood underneath the sound of shrieking metal and the skidding of tires as the car ground to a halt underneath the weight of wood; the abrupt cessation of a single heartbeat was the sweetest music to my ears—Gavin was nothing more than a mangled, bloody corpse now. From the two other distinct scents of blood, Gavin's parents hadn't survived this unscathed, but they weren't dead. They could be saved.
Edward and I stood there in the shadows of the already pitch black sky of the storm until the high-pitched wail of sirens sounded in the distance. We turned to each other and stared, eyes meeting for several moments before we exchanged a nod. He and I were bonded by this now.
—End Flashback—
JPOV
"You mean to tell me that you killed the guy who hurt your cherished little sister and didn't make it excruciating?" I demanded incredulously, my anger mounting.
"Yes," Emmett responded evenly. "If you could get your head on straight and really think about it, you would know that's how it had to be done. Or you would if you could separate yourself from the fact that Gavin did what he did to the woman you love."
"What the hell does that mean?" And when I growled this demand, it wasn't just mine. It was the Major's too.
"It means," Emmett started to clarify, "that if he'd done this to any of the other women in the family, you wouldn't have had any problem eliminating the person responsible for hurting one of them. You would have known from the get-go that it would have to be in a way that set us all beyond reproach, and I applaud the restraint you showed for Bella's sake when you showed him mercy—"
Mercy, the Major grumbled fiercely. I never knew the meaning of the word before, and now I may as well be fuckin' neutered! And I'm not even gettin' any pussy for it! I blame her ... and you.
I didn't respond. I was pissed off as well, but not for the same reasons ... well, not all of them. I hadn't wanted to show Gavin mercy. I had wanted to rip him apart but I hadn't. For her. I did feel neutered in a way, but I wasn't disgruntled so much over the lack of pussy as the Major was. That didn't mean I didn't still want Bella like nothing and no one I ever had before, of course, but my anger over other things eclipsed that at the moment.
Are you sure we can't kill him now? the Major pestered me. I didn't respond to that either. Truthfully, I was actually considering it.
I ground my teeth together, knowing my eyes had gone the blackest of black, and clenched my hands into fists so tight the joints of my knuckles popped and creaked. "Do you think that I wouldn't fight just as fiercely and without mercy to avenge Rosalie?" I asked quietly but with menace, my gaze hard. I moved my eyes to Edward. "Or Alice?" I met both their gazes again before I continued, voice still low and dangerous, "Or Esme? Or any of the rest of you?"
I didn't have to direct any of this at Peter and Charlotte. They already knew.
"That isn't what I said," Emmett protested, his own expression steely.
I laughed humorlessly. "Not in those precise words maybe, but you didn't need to." His mouth dropped open to protest again, his emotions hurt yet indignant. I didn't give him the chance to speak. I didn't care what he had to say. He doubted my abilities, and just like I wouldn't let him manipulate me, I sure as hell wouldn't let him decide or assume what I was or wasn't able to do. "You're forgetting something, Emmett," I informed him flatly.
"And what is that?" he asked.
"I am many things, even a little unstable at times," I said. Okay, so that was putting it mildly but he didn't need to know that. "But I've been doin' what needs to be done for longer than you've been alive. I've been protecting and avenging my own for just as long, even if I was the one who inflicted pain on them from time to time, and make no mistake, Emmett. Carlisle may be your sire, but you are mine. All of you are. Mine to protect, mine to avenge, mine to keep naive. It is my job to do the things you can't do, the things you can't fathom so you can keep your rose-colored glasses on. The fact that I'm in love makes no difference, and whether or not I decide to rip our enemies apart or employ a more subtle tactic to exact that vengeance, I have the ability to cover my tracks and keep us above reproach. Gavin Nichols was my kill, whether I chose to do it now or later. Do not ever take a kill from me again."
Perhaps I didn't have the right to make some of those claims, and I never had. Not out loud at least, but it had always been implied. Either way, I didn't care. This was the role I played. This was my place in the family, what I was good at—the only thing I was good at. Carlisle was our conscience, Esme was our mother when we needed one, Edward was a reminder of the strength in retaining our humanity, Alice was our light in the darkness, Emmett was who we turned to when we needed to remember to look on the bright side of things and Rosalie was our example of what it was to love so fiercely that nothing and no one could stand in the way. Then there were Peter and Charlotte. Peter was loyalty in the flesh and Charlotte was the embodiment of devotion. I was a soldier. I was born to fight. I was made to fight. I was nothing else, even after all this time, no matter how hard I tried to shake it. Without it, I had no place here.
oOo
BPOV
The guys came home at two o'clock, and one of them was wearing sunglasses. Jasper hadn't said so, but I knew they'd been with the Quileutes bright and early this morning and then hunting afterward, and also that it was a human blood day. My super hearing really did come in handy sometimes, especially when I needed to do reconnaissance.
The fact that it was a human blood day had been the root of my covert operation the day before. When I returned to the hospital at five after eight, dressed in the disguise that passed me off as Cheryl Evans, R.N., complete with her I.D. badge, my objective was simple. Carlisle had flagged the bags of blood he planned to steal for Jasper in the computer system, labeling them as the fulfillment of a request for the blood bank in Port Angeles to distribute to a hospital in another county. He'd left specific instructions that he would personally deliver them and that they were to be touched by no one else. I imagined it had something to do with the fact that Jasper hadn't been able to keep down the blood type he'd tried the other day, so Carlisle wanted to make sure there was plenty of the new type he'd chosen for his son's next attempt on hand.
Carlisle's shift at the hospital had ended at seven; thus, there was no one there with a keen enough sense of smell to detect my presence and see me playing dress up with less than innocent purposes. By the time he returned, which wouldn't be until the day after Christmas since he'd taken those days off to be home for our first one together as a "whole" family, my scent would either be gone altogether or diluted enough between all the scents of the patients and staff and the time that had elapsed that he wouldn't be able to pick up on the fact that I had visited the hospital again after my visit to his office. I hoped.
Cheryl Evans had access to the hospital's blood bank, which was why I'd stolen her I.D. badge. Earlier that day, when I'd hacked Carlisle's computer, I'd reprogrammed the security codes to the storage cooler that housed the bags of blood he'd flagged for Jasper. That program had ensured that his current codes didn't change while he was still on shift, and that the new code triggered when he swiped his I.D. badge to clock out. If he had to clock back in for some sort of emergency, they would change back to the originals, which would have left me to improvise, but I was good at that. Luckily, he hadn't been called back in, and they had changed back the second time I used Cheryl's I.D. to enter the blood bank.
Once I entered, I filched the bags Carlisle was scheduled to take the following morning, i.e., this morning, some empty bags used to collect the blood donations, some plastic tubing and needles before heading off to a remote and little used storage closet I'd scouted as the best location to complete that portion of my op and blockaded myself inside it. I transferred two-thirds of the blood in each bag to the empty ones and replaced it with mine in the originals. All of the Cullens knew what my blood smelled like, so leaving some of the original donation was necessary to mask the scent. If Jasper figured out it was my blood he was attempting to drink, he would refuse, confront me and throw a fucking fit. It wouldn't be pretty and I wasn't willing to risk the possibility that he might figure out what I'd done. The fact was that if there was any blood that could fix his feeding problem, it was mine—it was both animal and human, and the stem cells and other regenerative properties instilled in it might be able to heal him, if vampires could even be healed in that way, and if the cause wasn't emotional as Carlisle suspected.
I wasn't an idiot. I knew Jasper would notice that these bags were different than the ones he'd tried before, but I doubted he would care, and if he got curious enough to poke around later on, he wouldn't be able to find a digital trace of what I'd done. If there was something I could do to make things better for him, I damn well would. Standing idly by wasn't my style, but I had risked everything for this. For him. If, for some reason, Carlisle's instructions were ignored and my blood was taken and used in a transfusion for someone in a hospital, if that blood was tested, the anomalies of it wouldn't go unnoticed. Red flags would be raised, Project Apotheosis would find out and they would come running. They would find out which hospital the blood had come from and have a concrete location for me. Maybe not an exact address but it would be a solid start, and Forks was small. If I didn't get out in time … luckily, I had a strong exit plan, and I would get out in time. I had taken safety precautions. Still, what I had done was a big deal. A really big fucking deal.
Fortunately, my operation had gone smoothly, and from a Trojan horse I'd installed on Carlisle's computer, I knew he had checked out the bags I'd doctored without making any note of suspicion that they'd been tampered with. He was a thorough and astute enough physician to have done so if he'd noticed, and he truly might have if he wasn't so preoccupied with his worry over his son.
If my own suspicions were correct, I knew exactly why one of the guys was wearing sunglasses.
I waited for said guy to go up the stairs and settle in his study before I made my approach. I had to confirm my hypothesis.
"Sunglasses in the house, Jasper?" I questioned, only a slight mocking quality to my voice, and a raised brow. "That's kind of douchey. Especially in winter. In Forks. Even for you."
He scowled. "You're gettin' in a real bad habit of cornering me in my study."
"A bad habit to you maybe," I countered. "But it sure as hell is better than cornering you in your bedroom. I don't exactly like the idea of potentially walking in on you naked." So maybe I liked that idea more than I was letting on but that was irrelevant. "That's not something I need to see."
Now that was entirely true. Seeing Jasper naked would be something I would never get out of my head. I would not be able to compartmentalize that, unlike most everything else, and I didn't need that image tormenting me for the rest of my life.
Jasper leveled me with a devastating smirk. "You might like what you see."
"Doubtful," I denied, tone blasé. I refused to show through any part of me that he was right. "But really, if you want to avoid ambushes, your bedroom is the better place to go."
"Right," he scoffed. "Like that would matter to you."
"Like I said," I reiterated, "I don't need to see you naked."
I sauntered closer to him then, both hoping to change the subject and accomplish yet another objective. I could feel his eyes behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses following me like a hawk, and when I got merely inches away, I reached out to snatch them from his face. He caught my wrist before I could succeed, but I went for them with my other hand. He caught that one as well and yanked. I stumbled and fell forward, my face nearing his, our lips on a crash course. At the last second, I dodged and instead earned a face full of his plush arm chair, plopping awkwardly in his lap with an "oof."
I had to admit, I didn't expect to succeed in seizing his sunglasses. His reflexes were too quick, and he adapted. I had been testing him too much lately, and he was bound to learn and be on his guard. I just hadn't expected it to land me in his lap, my body pressed so tightly against the cool solidity of his, straddling him in a cockeyed sort of way. He still held my wrists in his iron grip, crushed between his chest and mine with my face still smushed in the cushion of his chair. I would have found the whole thing hilarious if not for the precarious position I now found myself in, and I wriggled my hips, squirming around on Jasper's lap in an attempt to put some distance between our bodies before I moved my head.
"I would quit doin' that if I were you," he warned. Other than bolting backward sharply to stare at him questioningly, I froze.
He shrugged. "I'm a guy," he said matter-of-factly, releasing my wrists. "A pretty girl squirming around on a guy's lap usually only has one result, so unless you want things to get real awkward real quick, you should cut it out."
"Right," was all I could manage to say in response. I remained frozen for a few more seconds before I carefully climbed off him, taking the opportunity to snag his sunglasses as I went. I didn't know why, but he let me. Maybe it was the awkwardness he'd mentioned, which had now set in. I knew it wasn't because he wanted me to take them.
Eyes the deep red of rubies bored into mine, narrowed with annoyance over one thing or another, and I resisted the urge to cheer in my victory. If Jasper's eyes were red, it meant he'd kept my blood down. He'd been able to feed.
"Huh, they're different than I thought they'd be," I mused, and they were. I kind of ... liked them. I liked the gold too, loved them even, but the red was strangely beautiful. The knowledge that my blood had made them that color had a certain place between my legs throbbing in an entirely inappropriate way.
Son of a bitch! I cursed. Now? Really?
Apparently my hormones had no shred of decency when it came to Jasper Whitlock, and I fought hard to make sure there was no evidence of those errant hormones for him to home in on like a fucking bloodhound. As always, I managed it ... barely.
"And how did you think they would be?" he asked, his tone indecipherable just the same as his expression.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Just ... different, I guess. I didn't expect them to be pretty."
"You think they're pretty?" he questioned incredulously.
"In a strange way, yes," I confirmed. Then I smirked playfully. "Though you could now pass for a zombie from that old movie 28 Days Later. If you didn't sparkle anyway, which I have yet to actually see."
That's right. I had not yet seen any of the Cullens in direct sunlight. I saw how they shone even without exposure to the uninhibited rays of the sun, but every time perpetually cloudy Forks did happen to clear up enough to have shown me just how much their skin reacted to the light, my attention was always devoted to other things and I missed it. None of them had ever taken the opportunity to force the issue.
"Blood to flesh would be an interesting diet change," he said, "but not an appealing one. Besides, my idea of devouring flesh has nothing to do with actually ingesting it, and I'm very selective about who I choose to—" red eyes bored into mine again— "eat."
My mouth dropped open briefly before I regained my composure and closed it.
What the hell is he trying to do to me? I gasped internally, trying not to picture it or feel the ghost of his lips on my skin. Change the subject. Change the damn subject before you embarrass yourself and betray how you really fucking feel! Or at least betray how attracted you are to him.
"Good for you," I retorted sarcastically, deciding I had to at least acknowledge what he'd said before I could safely steer things in a different direction. He might get the idea that I was affected by it if I didn't. So, I was. That didn't mean I had to flash a neon sign.
I stared at Jasper for quite a while, him staring right back with that fucking challenge in his gaze as usual, before I reached out and ran my thumb over the skin beneath his left eye as I had done a little over a week ago. The color of it was no longer the deep purple of a nasty bruise that wouldn't heal but a much lighter shade that still emphasized the porcelain of his skin and brought out the crisscross of the scars that littered even his face. Gazing at them now, I realized what they were—teeth marks; and according to Charlotte, the only venom that left scars was that of another vampire. Jasper had been bitten and not just once or twice. From what I'd seen of his body, and I hadn't seen all of it, he'd been bitten thousands of times. Introducing foreign venom was supposed to hurt almost as much as the change, and seeing that he'd suffered that so many times made me feel sick as well as wonder how in the hell all of that could have happened to him and why. I didn't let it show on my face though. Showing any sort of pity would piss Jasper off even if he wouldn't know what it was for, and I didn't want that. All I'd wanted was to see if he'd been able to keep my blood down, so I resolutely forced this new knowledge to the back of my mind and returned to the matter at hand.
"Don't hide," I commanded, making sure my voice was soft enough for him to understand it wasn't precisely an order but stern enough for him to have to take it seriously. "Especially not from me. That isn't the man you are, and if you do it again, I will put one of those combat boots I threatened you with yesterday up your ass."
"Oh really?" he challenged.
"I don't make idle threats."
"Neither do I, and you don't want to know what I'll do to you if you even try," he warned, and he was both serious and not. Despite that, I had no doubt his seriousness was the more genuine of his emotions.
"I know," I assured him. "What you'll do to me aside, your follow through is one of the things I like about you."
I had to admit, I really kind of liked the idea of grappling with him, and not in a sexual way. Maybe I didn't know how well I would hold up against a vampire, but he was the one I would want to test that on if things were different, if I was willing to reveal what I really was and where I came from. He was, by far, the most skilled of the family. I could tell just by watching the way he moved and carried himself. If I was going to determine my own ability, holding my own against him would prove just how well Project Apotheosis had done their job. Besting him would be my preference, but if someone was going to hand me my ass in a fight—as much as he would gloat over it—I would want it to be him.
Jasper smirked smugly and when he spoke, his voice was teasing, "You like me."
"When I don't hate you," I replied with nonchalance. "Which I find myself doing less and less of late."
His smirk widened. I rolled my eyes. "Don't let it go to your head, Whitlock. You're not nearly as interesting as you think you are."
"And you are far more interesting than you think you are," he came back at me. "Maybe I'll eat that taco after all."
I grinned. "You'll have to let me know when you do. I still don't think it's a good idea, but I'd like to see the look on your face. Laughing at you is one of my very favorite things, but you already know that."
Jasper snorted but said nothing.
"I've gotta get ready for work," I informed him, ready to end my second reconnaissance mission in as many days. I'd achieved my goal.
"What's your shift?"
"3:30 to 10:00 unless I have to cover for someone last minute," I responded. And I almost hoped I would have to. Two days of up close and personal with Jasper and I needed the space. Any more and I might do something stupid.
I put his sunglasses on. "If you want these back, you're going to have to take them from me."
With those parting words, I turned around and walked away. I still heard his retort though.
"You really shouldn't dare me, pretty girl," he called. "You won't like how I'll do it."
oOo
EmPOV
Today had started off fucking swimmingly. Gavin Nichols was nothing more than a bloody smear on the 101 and Jasper managed to chow down and keep it down. My spirits were high up until our hunting trip after our meeting with the wolves, but then it had all gone to shit. I had known Jasper wouldn't be happy with me, of course—Peter hadn't been particularly thrilled with me either—but I hadn't expected him to be that furious. He hadn't specifically said it, but the look in his eyes clearly told me he would kill me if I ever poached a kill from him again. It made me more than a little uneasy to know he meant it, and I was also taken aback by the family and I being claimed by him. There were a lot of things I didn't understand about the vampire world as a result of the relatively sheltered life I'd lived because of Carlisle. I knew Jasper—and Peter and Charlotte—understood those things, and there were times when I wished they would explain them to me. Most of the time though, I didn't want to understand. I wanted those rose-colored glasses to stay glued to my face. I had known too much hardship in my human life, lost too much. I was a happy-go-lucky guy, but I was afraid that if those glasses were ripped off that that would be lost to me too. It wasn't that I didn't think I couldn't handle it. I just didn't want to lose the part of myself that always tried to look on the bright side of things, that knew things could always be worse. There was one thing that bothered me more than that, however, and it was the knowledge that Jasper seemed to believe his only purpose here with the family was to protect us. He hadn't said it directly, but I wasn't an idiot. I put the pieces together. That was an important role to have, a vital one, but it wasn't one he had to bear alone. That he believed that was all he was to us, all he was good for, saddened me in a way I couldn't properly name. I couldn't get my mind off it, but that would soon change. Soon everything would change.
Bella stormed into the living room, fury, hatred and betrayal flashing in her eyes. "Which one of you did it?" she demanded.
A few days ago—hell, a few hours ago—the emotions shining in her eyes would have killed me. Her hatred, that it would soon be directed toward me, would have torn me apart, but that was a few days ago. Not today. Today I didn't care ... not really.
We were all here, gathered together, except for Jasper, who had shut himself away in his room after his rather interesting encounter with Bella earlier, and Carlisle and Edward, who were playing chess.
"I did," I answered, immediately owning up to what I had done. I was a man if nothing else, and that's what men did. They took responsibility for their actions and accepted the consequences.
I didn't see the point in putting off my inevitable confession nor did I see the point in revealing Edward's involvement—killing Gavin had been my idea, I had masterminded the whole thing and he had died on impact, nullifying Edward's need to step in and finish the job. I wasn't ashamed of what I had done nor was I sorry for it, and nothing she could say would change that. I had done it for many reasons. She was one of those many and I wouldn't apologize for that either. Besides, she was too smart for me, for any of us, to try to deceive her. It would be insulting to her to even try.
"No," Edward protested through his gift. "If you're going to take responsibility for this, so am I. I won't hide, Emmett. You didn't do this alone."
"You will keep your mouth shut, Ed," I argued fiercely. "She doesn't need to hate us both. She needs as many brothers as she can get and you didn't pilot this. Not saying anything doesn't make you any less of a man. It makes you able to keep being there for her when I can't. Please ... do this for me."
His expression turned stony but he said nothing to that, and I knew he would honor my request, as much as he didn't like it. He knew how important it was to me, how important she was.
Her gaze turned hard and unforgiving, shocked, as it snapped to mine. It was easy to see that I was the last person she expected to have done it. My expression mimicked hers, lacking the unforgiving or shocked quality. There was nothing she could do that I wouldn't forgive her for. I loved her that much and that was what family did. "You do not have the fucking right to play God!"
I shot to my feet, hands dropping to my sides and clenching into fists. "When it came to him, the hell I fucking didn't!"
"You killed him, Emmett!" she accused.
"Yes, I did," I said again.
"How?" she murmured, disappointment in her tone. "How could you?"
"How could I?" I exclaimed incredulously. "How could I? Are you kidding, Bella? Guys like that don't change! They never change! They never stop! It builds and builds and they keep hurting people. They destroy lives! I have watched how the shit they pull affects the people they brutalize for decades. Do you think I would stand by and allow a person who would do that to hurt anyone when I could stop it? No fucking way! I don't like killing, but there are things I will not stand for and that is one of them. I love you more than you will ever know, but I don't care if you never forgive me for this. I don't care if you hate me for it." I had known both were a possibility when I did it—I did remember her conversation with Jasper at the dance; I just hadn't taken it seriously because there was so much I didn't understand about her, things Jasper apparently did. I had naively hoped she wouldn't care when she found out Gavin's death wasn't an accident and that I was responsible, but Jasper's revelation about her code had dashed that. "I don't care if you approve," I added seriously. And I didn't ... not really. I knew I was right. "In this, I don't need your approval. I am not sorry, and I would do it again. If you think the others," I gestured to everyone, "weren't at the very least considering doing the same damn thing, you haven't gotten to know any of us very well at all. Jasper really was going to kill him. He just decided to put him in the hospital again instead because you have some sort of code, but at some point, he would have if I hadn't."
I didn't know why I threw that last bit in, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I wondered if Jasper was going to hand me my ass for it whenever he un-barricaded himself from his room.
I scowled at her, fierce and challenging the way she was always doing to Jasper, daring her to say something, to say anything, to scream or stalk toward me and pound her fists against my chest. I almost wanted her to. It meant there was hope.
Bella had never looked at me defiantly before. That was also something she generally reserved for Jasper. I didn't like that I was now on the receiving end of it.
It felt like she stood there glaring at me for an eternity, some of her emotions discernible while others weren't. I couldn't deny that that made me very nervous, even though I had no intention of backing down.
Bella continued to stare, her face becoming more unreadable by the second, and the longer she kept quiet, the more unnerved I became. I knew that if she didn't say something soon and put me out of my misery, my resolve would crack. I would break and tell her that I would do absolutely anything to fix things between us even though she couldn't make me be sorry for what I'd done to Gavin. I couldn't do that. In any other situation, I wouldn't have hesitated, but this was different.
Before I could do something stupid, I decided I had to do something else. I had to take the power away from her somehow because she did have power over me. The only person who had more was my Rose.
"It'll be one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure, but I can live with it if you never forgive me, if you hate me. Gavin can't hurt anyone now, especially not you, so I can live with that," I repeated. I hoped I sounded convincing.
My words did nothing to spur her to break her silence. Her expression was just as stoic, her eyes just as icy, and she still stared at me, her posture rigid as she took me in. She could have been a fucking marble statue, and I gave up. I couldn't stand there for another second, trying to decipher what was going through her head. I would drive myself fucking insane and I wouldn't do that to Rosalie. I turned on my heel and left without another word, the feel of Bella's eyes scalding my skin as I walked away, and all I could think was that it was a shame that I had lost a baby sister just when I'd found one again.
oOo
JPOV
Red.
Deep red.
Blood red.
My eyes were so very, very blood red.
I had never thought I would see them like this again. It was shocking. I couldn't look away.
I stood before the mirror in my bathroom, unable to tear my gaze from my reflection, from those scarlet eyes I couldn't quite believe were mine. Only they were.
I had shut myself away in here after Bella left, staring at them for hours, unaware of anything else as my thoughts consumed me. I tried to see what she saw—the beauty. I failed.
The inhuman color just disturbed me on so many levels. I had accepted the loss of my humanity a long time ago. That wasn't the reason it had so thoroughly crawled underneath my skin, leaving me so uneasy that the nausea that had abated to such a minor level had amped up again. It was the reminder of everything from my past. Not necessarily guilt for all the lives I'd taken, though I was sorry for that on some level—like Bella, I could separate my feelings from cold reality, and the reality was the taking of those lives couldn't have been helped; not with where I was and the vampire I had been molded into. I hadn't known any other way. I had been trained, conditioned, to be apathetic to everything and everyone. I desired nothing but the fight and the kill ... battle, sex, blood—everything it was to be a vampire, to be at war, only with no noble cause to fight it. That was the crux of things. I was no longer apathetic. The toll of a hundred two years of fighting that war had settled around my shoulders like a shroud even before I left that life behind, the crushing force of it bearing more heavily down on me with each year that passed. I had learned to pack the memories away, even if they refused always to remain that way, but I still felt that weight. The red of my eyes was a reminder of it all. The color made it feel heavier.
I just couldn't look away. And in the background I didn't see the shower or the tiles of the walls. I saw Maria and Savannah. I saw the hungry, bloodthirsty expression on Maria's face and the fearful and compliant one on Savannah's. But through it all, it was the red that held my attention.
Then Maria and Savannah disappeared; even my acute focus on my red eyes faded because suddenly, there she was. Bella. She was standing behind me, her reflection joining mine. Her brown eyes locked on my crimson ones and I was aware again, but only of her.
She had cornered me again. I was tempted to point out that my bathroom was technically part of my bedroom, and that the probability of her walking in on me naked here was far higher than in the part with the bed. Seeing the look on her face, I decided not to.
That look was full of rage, but the primary emotion was betrayal. It was odd for me to be able to read her so easily.
"Is it true?" she demanded, her tone hard.
"Is what true?" I asked, bewildered. I didn't like that look at all, and I didn't know what I had done to warrant it.
"Are you the one who put Gavin Nichols in the hospital? Were you going to kill him?"
Oh, so that's what this was about. She'd heard about Gavin's death, probably at work today, and figured out one of us was responsible as predicted. Emmett had obviously copped to it—that's just the kind of guy he was—but had outted me in the process. The betrayed, furious expression on her face made sense now.
Fucker! the Major cursed him.
"Yes," I answered flatly. "Who did you think did it, Bella? You can't honestly have believed that bullshit story about him falling down the stairs. You're too smart for that."
"Why?" she demanded again.
"Because he deserved it," I responded coldly, turning to face her so I could meet her eyes head on instead of through my mirror. "You know he did."
Everything about her hardened, from head to toe, but she didn't disagree. She knew if she did, it would be a blatant lie. Her reaction to what he'd done to her may have been knee-jerk in part, but I knew she wasn't sorry for what she'd done to retaliate, and she wasn't a liar.
"Why didn't you kill him?" she asked next, her voice as icy as mine had been. "You obviously had the opportunity. Why didn't you take it?"
"Why do you care?" I countered. Honestly, I didn't know why she was pissed at me. I hadn't killed him.
"Don't pull that evasion shit, Jasper," she snapped. "Why didn't you kill him?"
"Because that's what I do," I told her. "That's my role here. I fix the things that need to be fixed, so I hurt him. I crippled that fucker. His arm and shoulder were useless, and he would have been very lucky if his dick ever worked again after I was through with him, but I didn't kill him because I knew you wouldn't want me to. I knew you would never forgive me for it, that you would hate me. You have honor, Bella. You don't let people get away with their shit, but you show mercy and compassion. I don't agree with that in this case, but once upon a time, when I was human, I had those things too. I had honor. At the very least, I try to demonstrate those qualities when I can afford to now, but that isn't often. That doesn't mean I don't respect your code. I have my limits though, Bella. There is only so much I will do for you. I don't give second chances, but I gave him one. For you, but the second he fucked up—and he would have—my respect for you wouldn't have been enough to stay my hand again. I'd have killed him, and I would have felt no remorse for it. Emmett just happened to beat me to it. Take comfort in the fact that he made it quick and painless because I wouldn't have granted Gavin that courtesy."
We stood there, staring at each other long and hard, neither of us budging. She didn't blink; neither did I. The bathroom wasn't small, but the tension between us emphasized just how stifling the enclosed space was.
Finally, after five solid minutes, I decided to break our stalemate and throw Emmett a bone.
He was at the edge of the property, not wanting to leave probably to show Bella he stood firm by his decision and couldn't be run off by it—even if she might not know exactly where he was—but not really wanting to be here either. I could feel it now that I was paying attention. His emotions were powerful, broadcasting clear and strong over the mile distance. He was utterly resigned along with a potent cocktail of other emotions, but what was hitting me most fiercely was his heartbreak. He may have stood by his decision to take Gavin's life, but the rift it had caused between him and Bella devastated him. He felt no regret for his actions, that I knew, but he was miserable over the loss of her.
Now it was time for me to pay Bella back for the day before. It was my turn to manipulate her and in the process, ease Emmett's pain. I had meant every word I'd said earlier and I wouldn't take them back, but Emmett needed to know that things between us were okay. This was how I planned to show him they were.
He was still within earshot, so if he was listening, what I was about to say would do precisely what I intended it to, and I was going to make sure he was.
She had said that everyone could be manipulated if one knew the right place to strike. Generally, it was a person's weaknesses one targeted to successfully manipulate them. In this particular case, I would target one of Bella's strengths—her impeccable logic.
"You're going to forgive Emmett," I said bluntly. I hadn't heard their blowout, but I knew Emmett wouldn't be so miserable if Bella hadn't claimed she would never forgive him. However, if she had told him she hated him to his face, he would be feeling a hell of a lot worse. Thank God he wasn't.
Bella's eyes narrowed to slits, her back stiffened and she marched forward until only a foot separated us. When she stopped, her left foot edged just the slightest bit forward, her hands hanging in loose fists at her sides—she was ready to shift into a fighting stance, and the girl looked like she wanted nothing more than to throwdown. Another person wouldn't have noticed—that's how slight it was—but I wasn't any other person.
"Is that an order?" It was asked sharply and with challenge, but the look on Bella's face strongly suggested that I shouldn't give her an answer. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes I'd never seen before, and if I was human, I would seriously have feared for my balls. I might even have feared for my life. "Because if it is, fuck you! I don't take orders either, especially not from cocky assholes."
It took every bit of my will not to close the distance between us and crush her to me, to ravage her lips with mine until she was gasping for breath and actually begging me to fuck her instead of insulting me with the words. That's what seeing her standing there so defiantly, with such barely contained violence, did to me.
"It isn't an order," I responded evenly, though my voice was a little lower and rough with lust. If I was lucky, she would mistake it and the shift of my eyes from red to black, for anger ... provided she didn't move her gaze below my belt. "It's a fact."
She took another purposeful step forward. There were only eight inches between us now. "Is it?"
"Yes," I replied firmly, my voice still low and gravelly. The urge to grab her and make her mine, to make her want me to make her mine, was still nearly overwhelming.
"Please, do enlighten me," she invited with impatience and venom, hands flexing momentarily at their place by her sides and then relaxing back into loose fists.
I let out a deep breath as I tried to calm myself down and take back the control she had unwittingly stolen from me. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to. When I'd strategized and calculated all the possible scenarios that might occur during my attempt at manipulating her, I hadn't accounted for this one, nor for the way her reaction to my simple statement would affect me. I should have. I did know that she didn't like being told what to do, but that wasn't quite the same as being given an order, and her violent response was kind of shocking.
After a moment, I regrouped, and with my dick back under my control—for now—it was time to proceed. My mission to get a jumpstart on the mending of Bella and Emmett's relationship was still salvageable, and I could think on my feet. I would roll with this. She wouldn't get the best of me.
I gave her a half-smile. "It's impossible to stay mad at the guy, Bella," I said, my irritation over that truth evident. Even I, who had perfected the art of prolonged fury, could not stay angry with him. "Believe me, I've tried, but that isn't the only reason why."
Bella made no further demand for me to elaborate, just stood there, still only inches away, glaring as she waited. Her stance was still at the ready to slip into fight mode.
"He told you why he did it?"
She nodded tersely.
If that was the case, though I may not have known the precise words, I still knew what he'd told her.
"He wasn't lying," I declared with the utmost conviction. "Because that's who Emmett is. He's honest and earnest and there isn't a fuckin' evil bone in the guy's body. And that is why you'll forgive him. It's also why you can't and don't hate him."
She opened her mouth to protest, to what I didn't know, but it wasn't necessary for me to. "Let me explain some things to you, things you can't possibly, as a human, understand." I didn't pause to give her the chance to refuse. "Despite what you've been shown through what Carlisle has built for us, vampire society and politics don't work the same as human ones. Vampires aren't humans, Bella. We look like them, we talk like them, we mimic them in almost every way possible, but we are not human. We are fiercely protective and possessive. It's in our nature. We can be civilized, but at the heart of us, we are primal, violent creatures, and you have no idea exactly what that means or what it entails."
Though her feet remained in the fighting stance, she folded her arms across her chest, but I knew how quickly she could drop back into it completely.
"Vampires have different levels of bonds, but you don't really need to know the specifics. All you need to know is this—there are solitary nomads and covens, and it's the concept of covens you need to grasp, even if it's only in the barest sense. Some of them are based more on convenience than affection but that doesn't matter. There are unspoken rules and it has to do with how possessive we are. You don't fuck with other covens. It's a respect thing, though not all vampires follow that rule. Humans can be part of a coven. Most of the time it's a pet sort of deal—" Bella opened her mouth to say something, probably an indignant something, but I didn't let her speak— "but that doesn't matter either because that isn't always the case. Sometimes it's a mate thing, as rare as it is for a vampire and a human to be mated."
My nostrils flared in instinctive distaste at the mention of mates of any kind, but I didn't let that stop me from continuing.
"That means the human in question falls under that unspoken 'don't fuck with other covens' rule. Even if you don't want to be, you're part of the family now, but vampires don't recognize that. They don't recognize families. They don't understand it and they pretty much think it's ludicrous. In our world, we are a coven. No matter what we are, being part of it makes you ours. Ours to protect and avenge because of that unspoken rule," I told her vehemently.
Her gaze darkened even further in her wrath, and she gritted her teeth but said nothing, seeming to know I wasn't finished or possibly just too angry to speak.
"That is why we couldn't let Gavin get away with the shit he pulled," I said. "Human or not, showing mercy to that little prick would have been a sign of weakness, and weakness is something you do not show. Vampires lose respect in a heartbeat if we do, and in our world, respect is everything. It's practically currency. You lose respect in the vampire world and you might as well hang a sign on your back that says, 'Come and get me.' Carlisle does things differently, but he is still respected because, even if he leaves violence as a last resort, he still understands that and doesn't hesitate to do what needs to be done if I don't do it for him. The only reason I could afford to show mercy, for you, is because anyone who questions whether or not I'm weak learns in a heartbeat just how weak I'm not.
"Emmett may not have said it, but that's another reason why he did what he did, and I doubt he told you all his reasons," I continued. Her brows furrowed just as I knew they would. "You know he did it for the greater good, Bella, for the bigger picture, and for you because he loves you. He really does. I can feel that, but he also did it for Rose. She had already taken care of Royce and his dick friends before he'd even been turned, but what happened to her tortures him, and he never got a chance for closure the way she did. She got her revenge but he didn't get his, and mates need that. They need to protect and avenge their mates. It's ingrained in vampires. He wasn't in her life yet and he wasn't a vampire either, but that doesn't make a bit of difference. All he can see is that he couldn't save her and it kills him, Bella. Gavin wasn't Royce but killing him gave Emmett what he needed, at least a little. That he did it for you made it even more so, and that he did it to save others makes him different. He cares. He doesn't love those people, but he loves.
"If I had killed Gavin, I only would have done it for the sake of that unspoken rule. It would have been for revenge. Revenge for you and to protect the family, but nothing more than that. That's why you'll forgive him," I repeated. "It's why you don't, can't, hate him."
Bella's grip tightened around her biceps at my declaration and she took another threatening step toward me. "You're wrong."
"I'm not."
"You are," she argued coldly. "I don't and won't forgive him. Do you know why?" As I had done so many times during our conversation, she didn't give me a chance to speak. "It isn't my place to forgive him or to even determine that he needs to be. What he did pisses me off but I understand. I already did but everything you just told me only makes it all the clearer. He did what he thought he had to do. I've been doing the same thing for a long time, so I can't judge him for that. I can't forgive him for that. I don't know if I hate him or not. All I know right now is that I'm angry as all hell with him, but only for the fact that what Gavin did to me had anything to do with why he killed him."
She took another step toward me, eyes blazing. "You are right about one thing though." She paused, I imagined for effect. "If you had been the one to kill him, I would never have forgiven you. I would have hated you. I don't give a fuck what you are and I don't give a fuck about your rules. I don't need you to protect me. I don't need you to avenge me. I don't need you. I don't need a family either. In the grand scheme of things, you mean nothing to me, even if I might care about you now, and I do, Jasper. I really do, but caring about you doesn't matter. It never will. You're not nothing, but you mean nothing. Not to me. I really would have hated you."
Then she walked away from me, and I hated watching her do it even more than ever now that I knew I was in love with her.
Her words—you mean nothing to me—were a punch to the gut, a pain so sharp I imagined it was what a knife slipping through my flesh would feel like if I was human, but my pain didn't matter. I had done what I had set out to do. Emmett now knew that, while Bella was angry with him, hope of salvaging his relationship with her wasn't lost. He wasn't the one she would never forgive and she couldn't even manage to hate him. It sent a stab of bitterness coursing through my veins, but I could feel my brother's relief emanating from his position on the edge of the property and that bitterness ebbed. It wasn't gone, but that made it easier to ignore.
After that, I made a resolution. I could never be with Bella and I could never make her love me, but I would make myself mean something to her. I didn't know how, but I would make myself matter to the woman I loved, if it was the last thing I did.
oOo
A/N: Can anyone say "drama?" Yep, there was quite a bit of it in this chapter but all the conflict doesn't stay unresolved, I promise. :)
Up next: Christmas comes to Forks! Will the Cullens and Bella have a merry one? That remains to be seen. ;)
Take care!
