-MAISIE-
I could see now why anonymity was so appealing to the Cullens. There were familiar faces at Alaska Pacific University, sure. People I recognized from my classes last year. Old group project partners, acquaintances. My coworkers at the campus library. None of these people knew about my life in Forks, though. I could sit beside them in class, pass them by in the library stacks while I shelved books, grab lunch with them on campus, and no one was the wiser.
No one knew I had fought vampires. No one knew Jasper was a vampire. No one knew I was something not-quite-human.
Honestly, in that lapse between the summer's events and the Volturi summons, it was downright freeing.
Well, freeing for the most part. There was an additional hurdle that came with returning to Alaska. True to his word, Carlisle and Esme had graciously been the ones to break the news of Irina's death to her sisters.
So was it really any wonder that I ran into Kate on campus one day?
She was alone, not accompanied by Garrett as she so often was after meeting him. Kate was lovely and striking in her green winter coat, standing out among the college students in their puffy parka jackets. I locked eyes with her across a swathe of lawn, stilling on the sidewalk in front of the science building. I had just left a zoology class.
When our eyes met, Kate raised a white mitten-clad hand in greeting. I felt my breath catch in my chest.
Surely, if she were angry and meant to kill me, she would not have come to campus where there were so many witnesses. Students milled all around us. Rather than head across campus to my next class—advanced Spanish; I was taking advantage of Jasper being my live-in tutor for foreign language credits—I found my feet carrying me off the sidewalk and across the lawn instead.
"Kate," her name slipped from my mouth, materializing before me in a haze in the cold air. She actually smiled as I drew nearer, reaching out for me. I let her take my hands and give them a squeeze, noting how her smile did little to brighten the dark sadness in her eyes.
"You don't look much worse for wear," she said, her pretty, light voice unusually tight and choked. "But I always knew you were a tough one."
I felt it, then, the dull electric current running across her skin. It was easy to miss beneath her gloves, but she was holding my hands tight enough I could feel it through the thick fabric. With a tug, she pulled me in for a proper hug.
"I'm sorry if I shock you," she murmured against my hair. "It's harder to control when I'm upset. Garrett hates it, but what can you do?"
A sob ripped from my throat before I could stop it, but thankfully it was muffled by Kate's coat. She was quick to lead us away from the students milling around, pulling me along with her to a little garden alcove next to the campus library. It was out of the way, and provided us with the only privacy we were likely to find quickly, even with the garden bare with the oncoming winter.
"Kate," I said again, this time no louder than a whisper. "Kate, I'm so sorry."
"For what?" She asked. "Defending your family? Or that innocent human girl? You weren't the one to kill my sister, I'm told. Carlisle said that guilt lays with the wolf pack, though how can they be blamed, either? We all three are—were¬¬—very aware of the treaty between the Cullens and Quileute. Until recently, we followed it to the letter just the same as our cousins."
When she inhaled, her breath was shaky. I could hear it rattling in her chest. "Tanya will want to disagree with me, but this whole terrible ordeal was Irina's doing. It's a terrible condition of our kind, honestly."
"What do you mean?" I asked. Kate twirled a blackened vine around her finger, a sad smile playing at her lips.
"We are so good at pretending to be human, don't you think? But there's quite an animalistic streak in us. Like a bloodhound set on a scent, our habit of seeking vengeance can be overwhelming. As far as I'm concerned, Irina as I knew her died the day she gave herself to that vengeance. The person the Quileute wolves ripped apart that night was only a husk of who Irina used to be."
Her sad smile widened, shaking across her lips. "I've made Garrett promise never to behave that way should anything happen to me."
When I took her hand again, it became obvious that her shoulders were shaking, too. Silent tears and dry cheeks.
It wasn't often that I was reminded so obviously that vampires could not cry.
Kate and Garrett stayed with us a few days. Over a weekend, it was almost like a regular family visit. The ice was not so thick yet out on the water that we were able to kayak all together on an overcast Saturday. Jasmine proved herself adept at this, too. I mused, sometimes, that she was destined to be a mermaid rather than a vampire. She sluiced her and Edward's kayak through the water with such ease that the rest of us looked clumsy and cumbersome by comparison.
In all that time Kate and Garrett visited in Alaska, we didn't hear a word from Tanya. She wasn't so far off from us, but Kate said we shouldn't expect much—if anything—from her.
She had not, after all, taken the news of Irina's death 'like a champ' as Garrett attested that Kate had.
Jasper's stack of books hit the table, making my glass of water shake. We had learned I still needed to drink water, too. A diet of blood and only the food I wanted to eat had nearly left me dehydrated after two weeks of neglecting all other sustenance.
"What're you doing?" I asked, not looking up from my computer. I was in the middle of typing out a discussion board for class. Jasper never read his textbooks, so I knew that wasn't what he had so unceremoniously dropped on the table.
"We are writing an account documenting everything we know about your condition." I took a sip of water, peeking at Jasper over the top of my laptop screen.
"Bossy."
Jasper smirked at my taunt, lifting his golden gaze to mine. He quirked an eyebrow. "Never."
I always knew Jasper was ridiculously handsome, but my new sight made it even more obvious. It was something I had to get used to all over again, and sometimes—like just then—it made me blush like I had when we were in high school.
He would not have interrupted my work with his side project, I knew. Jasper had set his leather-bound journal, shockingly modern next to that centuries old Latin book we had been using as a learner's manual on my not-quite-vampirism, across the table from me. But my blush must have inspired him otherwise, because he crossed to my side of the table.
Jasper cupped my jaw in his hand when I looked up at him, bending to kiss me. In my opinion, he had become entirely too gentle with me. His kiss was soft and fleeting. I tried not to let the annoyance show on my face and squashed it as soon as it began to rise in me. It wasn't like I could blame Jasper. I was prone to dissolving into tears, though I was getting a little better about that. Emotionally, I was a wreck, despite the physical strength I had come to know from my repeated doses of vampire venom.
I flew through the rest of my discussion board post so that we could get on with whatever it was, exactly, that Jasper wanted to document. While I typed, Jasper penned a blank timeline of sorts in his elegant, curling handwriting.
"You were ten, right?" he asked, head dipped over his work so that errant waves of blonde hair fell into his eyes. "The first time…"
It took me a second to realize he was prompting me I was so fixated on watching him. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I was ten. This scar on my cheek, remember?"
"I do." That smirk again as he reached over to playfully poke at the scar I had pointed to.
"How lucky for you that your science experiment is also your girlfriend. Makes for easy data collection, huh?"
"Mmm. 'Girlfriend' is a terribly basic term, don't you think, amor de mi vida?"
This was why I considered that time between leaving Forks and leaving for Voltaire as freeing. I realized, as those words slipped so easily from Jasper's lips, that I hadn't seen this side of him—the teasing, flirting he could lapse into with such ease despite his serious nature—since…well, since before Maria, honestly.
The realization hit me hard as I watched Jasper's hand fly across the page. He was so consumed in his work that he took no notice. I folded my arms atop the table and rested my chin there, letting myself enjoy watching him. He worried the corner of his lower lip between his teeth as he pieced together points on the timeline. Only occasionally did he call on me for information.
"Did I miss anything?" He asked several minutes later, when his scrawling had petered out. I read over his timeline. It was pristine in its accuracy, save for one thing, though it was no fault of Jasper's that he had missed it.
I had been having a hard time admitting it even to myself. When I reflected on my fight with Irina—which was daily—there was one part I always glossed over more than the others. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.
"Um," I didn't want to say it. the words felt like barbs in my throat, trying to lodge themselves there and maintain their secrecy. "There's one thing?"
"Oh?" Jasper asked, obviously cued into the discomfort I was feeling. I had ducked my head in my shame, but I peeked up at him now.
"I…Carlisle doesn't know. I didn't tell him. And I made sure not to think about it while Edward was around." He looked so expectant, brows furrowing together in his own worry.
"I, um…during the fight, I told Bella to cut her hand so Irina would follow us into the forest. Her eyes were dark, so I knew she would be thirsty, and Edward had such a hard time with her scent, remember? So I knew Bella's blood would be too much for Irina to ignore, if she cut herself. Bella did it, and she didn't even argue with me all that much like Gunner would've if I didn't send him off, but when she cut her hand…"
I trailed off, unable to make myself say it. The gears were turning in Jasper's head, though, as he processed my rambling. In a matter of seconds his face went from confused to eyes wide and his lips falling open in his realization.
"You could smell Bella's blood." His tone kept it from being a question, despite his phrasing, but I nodded in confirmation anyway. "But…how did you resist?"
"I don't know, I just did what you do." His surprise colored his face further. I don't think I had ever seen him so shocked, and it might have been funny in a different context. "You know, when you get overwhelmed and you cover the scent. You'll scratch at your nose or get closer to me or sometimes in stores you pick up candles to smell. I just did that. I covered my nose with my hair and it helped me take my mind off it."
Jasper pulled his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together, and blinked at me. I could no longer read the expression on his face, and for once, he kept whatever he was feeling to himself instead of sharing it with me. All I felt was my own—the residual shame of Bella's blood calling to me and the growing concern over the unreadable cast Jasper's features had taken on.
"You just did what I do," he parroted back to me. Again, it wasn't a question, his voice thick around the words.
I answered him anyway, giving a shrug to try to make the moment a little less serious. It didn't work. "Yeah, I did."
At that his eyes became suffused with a sadness that darkened their pale golden hue. Cupping my face in his hands, Jasper angled my head ever so gently upward to press a kiss to my forehead.
We had a weekend routine. On Friday and Saturday nights, when I had no classes to be up early for the next day, we would sit on the roof and look at the stars. I had to bundle up in layers, a beanie pulled low over my ears and thick gloves on my hands. Unlike Esme and Emmett, Jasper was unbothered by the cold. He wore a jacket on the off-chance someone other than Edward and Jasmine—our closest neighbors—might see us up on the roof.
A few of my many blankets cushioned our backs against the roof tiles. It was surprisingly cozy and the light pollution was so low in Alaska that the night sky was amazing and breath taking. We spent our weekend nights, for the most part, trying to catch sight of stray falling stars and talking. The atmosphere was cozy, but the talks were usually heavy.
"You wouldn't be in this predicament if it weren't for me," Jasper lamented on one of those evenings. He was laying flat on his back, one arm bent behind his head, the other wrapped around my waist. Our legs were tangled together, and my head rested on his chest.
"Yeah, these bangs you helped me cut have been hell to grow out."
"Maisie." His voice was soft in it's chiding, but obviously not amused with my attempt to make a joke.
"Jasper." I couldn't help but mimic him. "If it weren't for you, if you were totally removed from the equation of my life, I would be dead."
Though I couldn't see his face, I could feel his disbelief. We had gotten over our needs for privacy following the fight with Irina and once again Jasper's telepathic gift went largely unchecked between us, allowing his emotions to bleed into mine and vice versa. I disentangled myself so I could sit up and look at him. Jasper tried to follow suit, but I splayed a hand on his chest. It wasn't often that I used any of my enhanced strength, but I did now.
I wanted him to listen. And on of the best ways to get Jasper Whitlock Hale to listen to you is to remind him of your strength.
"Let's play hypotheticals and say your family didn't move back to Forks my sophomore year, okay? Y'all went to Canada or something instead. That wouldn't have stopped James, Laurent, and Victoria from travelling through Forks, would it? Or stop James from taking an interest in me, a little ol' human girl who didn't quite smell so human, huh? Now, tell me, Mr. Major Whitlock, would I have stood a chance against three nomad vampires with nothing but that shotgun to defend myself?"
He pursed his lips below me, eyes narrowing into a glare that held no true weight. I still had my hand flat against his chest as he looked up at me. Those golden eyes of his flickered to my hand. I caught the barest hint of a smirk before Jasper's fingers curled around my wrist. In one dizzying motion, he flipped me so that our positions were switched. Now I was the one cushioned in the blankets on our roof, with Jasper gloating above me.
The moon was just behind his head, painting all his gold features in tones of silver. It was my turn to glare at him, but that glare only lasted half a second. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss against the pulse in my neck, making my breath hitch.
"No," he murmured against my skin. "I'm sorry to say you wouldn't have stood a chance, mi amor."
I wiggled beneath him, trying to regain the grip on our conversation. "Show off. But you proved my point, not yours. Tell me, then, would you rather me be three years dead or here on this roof in Alaska with you?"
"When you phrase it that way, the choice is obvious. You, however, left out quite a few details, didn't you?" My beanie had been knocked off in our playing. Jasper smoothed my mussed hair while I pouted.
"I would have been dosed with venom whether I ever met you or not," I argued.
"You would have been dosed once," Jasper countered. "And we know that one miniscule dose wouldn't have affected your health or quality of life."
"And," I continued, as if he had never spoken, "I would have drank Gunner's blood in any instance. There's not a version of reality where I wouldn't have saved him."
"Perhaps if we had dissuaded the wolves from killing Laurent…"
"Do you really think Sam would let Carlisle tell him what to do? Because I sure don't."
We argued in circles this way, even when I began to yawn and Jasper insisted we go inside so I could go to bed.
"And anyway," I kept arguing even while brushing my teeth, "I'm much better now for whatever reason! Apparently what I needed was more venom, not just a blood diet."
Jasper was sorting laundry in our bedroom, so I couldn't see him, but when I tell you I could feel that eye roll he must have given…I spit my toothpaste out and poked my head around the corner. "You're amazingly skilled at having attitude even when you're not saying anything."
"I learned that from Rosalie." He tossed a pair of jeans into the laundry basket. Having a boyfriend who stayed up all night every night was a huge plus—household chores were infinitely more manageable with Jasper's nonexistent sleep schedule.
Interrupting his laundry sorting, I hugged myself to Jasper and tilted my head back. "She's a role model to us all, honestly."
"I think Edward might disagree with you there. You are aware it's passed two in the morning?" I pursed my lips, considering that for a second.
"Oh, well. It's Saturday." Jasper chuckled softly. He lifted me, then, settling me so that I had my legs wrapped around his waist. I had the high ground now, taller than him in this position, and I used it to kiss him before he could admonish me some more.
Jasper, as always, was wise to my efforts. I could tell from his rueful smile when we broke apart, though he made no further attempts to continue our circular arguing from earlier.
"Talk only does so much good," Jasper murmured, carrying me over to the bed. "And we'll have our action soon enough."
As with most things, Jasper was right about that.
Alice's visions were accurate enough to pinpoint the date that the Volturi summons would arrive. On September 30th, there it was in our mailbox, just as Alice had seen.
The summons came on thick, creamy paper that felt heavy in my hand. Someone had etched my name on the front—my full name. Maisie Lynn Thompson written in a hand that reminded me of historical documents from centuries ago.
It was snowing, as always, big, fat, wet flakes since it was only September and not yet cold enough for the drier snow. I tucked the summons into my jacket, fearful that the snowflakes would smudge the ink should they fall on that creamy paper.
I only made it so far as the doorway. As soon as the door shut behind me, I slid down it, my slowed heartbeat now pounding in my chest. Jasper, damn him, was off hunting with Edward and Jasmine, and I couldn't wait for him to get back. Instead, sitting with my back to the door, I pulled the summons back out of my jacket now that it was safe from the snowfall.
Turning it in my hands, I realized it was sealed with wax on the back. The wax was the deepest shade of red, bordering on black, and stamped with a seal of an intricate letter V. I slipped my nail beneath it to break the seal, unfolding the creamy paper. Unfolded, it made a perfect square of parchment, with the same looping, swirling handwriting in the middle.
Dearest Maisie,
Tales of your adventurous nature have reached our collective ears here in Voltaire. Excuse us for being so forward, but we would be honored to make your acquaintance.
Your presence is required on October 10th. Dress appropriately.
There were no signatures.
I was not invited. I was required. What a classy way to say 'show up on this date or you're dead'.
But… 'dress appropriately'. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
A/N: A little montage to get us through some time before the meeting with the Volturi. We'll revisit Tanya at a later date, but I've always considered her the 2nd most vengeful of the Denali sisters. Besides, she doesn't have the friendship with Maisie that Kate does.
