He Could Love Someone Like Her
New Year's Eve
They were in the most odious, trashiest building he'd ever been in. From the moment they'd walked in, curious smells hit him, more than alcohol and sweat. The onslaught of bad music (ska-swing? Who does that?) and shouting made him wince. Edward subconsciously curled closer to Leah, trying to form a barrier between her and the disease-ridden (and graffiti-covered) walls.
Leah sucked her teeth. "I know what you're doing!"
"It's cold and flu season," he protested weakly.
She elbowed away from him and pushed her coat away to put her hands on her hips, showing off her black dress. If she was cold in a skirt during the winter, she made no indication.
"Are we sure this is the right place?"
She held up a finger. "Nope. You are not backing out. I'm the one who had to talk to the guy."
He growled in frustration at Leah's recollection of her blatant (maybe too obvious) flirting to get information on Patrick. They had hit the gold mine when he invited her to this obscure bar. Leah had gone out of her way for him. He could at least summon the courage to go through with what had been his plan.
At least the dim lighting provided them with some anonymity. That and their costumes. He tugged at his brown leather jacket. "Who are we again?" he asked, managing to hide his teasing grin.
Leah nearly hit him. "I didn't make you be Indiana Jones. You outright refused my Sonny and Cher idea."
He detested the idea of wearing a fake mustache and wig for two hours. And the sixties pop duo were responsible for some earworms that would never leave his head.
Edward spied a guy by the stage in a red leather jacket. He had reached for the same one in the store today before Leah slapped his hand. "James Dean was still an option," he muttered.
"How many times have I told you? You're too attractive for that! The idea is to blend in."
"Yet you're Madonna in the middle of winter."
She smirked. "I already had the costume."
They took seats in the back, at the far end of the bar, giving them a wide view of the stage. The current band - "The Quarter Smile" - was shouting profanities more than any other words while the drummer lazily clanged the cymbals (perhaps he didn't know how to make any other beat). Edward considered his taste eclectic and open-minded, but under his neutral expression he was screaming.
"At least that's not him," Leah whispered as she waved the bartender over.
Edward merely nodded. He had yet to figure out what had led him here, why he was subjecting himself to this atmosphere. Idle curiosity? He wasn't this inquisitive by nature. Nor did he feel any particular connection or duty toward this Patrick person, his undeniable descendant. The name 'Masen' was long retired, and along with everyone he cared for that used it.
However, coincidences like this were too rare. That someone with his name and his likeness should be in his state, in the same town as him at the same hour, was too unfathomable to dismiss as chance. While he wasn't sure of the intervention of a higher power, he was all too accustomed to the intervention of fairies. He needed to know what Patrick Masen would be doing here in his home state.
The poor musicians quieted down to raucous, drunken applause.
"There he goes," Leah said, nudging his arm, glitter flaking off her skin as she did so.
A floppy-haired boy sauntered onto the stage, a guitar slung across his body. He wore all black, from his jeans to his graphic tee and denim jacket. Apparently the costume-only rule of Clay's Annual New Year's party did not apply to the entertainers. Then again, Edward didn't recognize some of the costumes he saw around him. Leah had to explain a few of the jokes and references represented around them. Had he fallen so out of touch with popular culture these days? Good. It had little to offer that his own era had not.
"What's up everybody!" Patrick shouted into the mic as the rest of the band finished setting up. "We're -"
A girl screamed so shrilly it sounded as if she'd been stabbed. Edward's eyes found a clapping East Asian girl in a witch costume. She had two lip rings. Those did look painful.
Patrick laughed, giving a thumbs-up. He seemed to relax a bit, his confidence less of a put-on. 'Thanks, Ollie.'
"We're Strawberry Moon -"
Leah snorted a laugh, choking on her iced tea. She tried to hide it in an even louder cough. People glanced their way. Edward hunched his shoulders, trying to become less visible.
"And this is our newest song. 'Red-eye'. Enjoy."
The bass and electric guitar hummed steady melodies together and the soft rock beat allowed Patrick's voice to shine. His voice was surprisingly strong and smooth. Edward could tell by his pronunciation and breath control he had been classically trained. There was a real star in the making.
Red-eye
I think you love to see my falling
I think you love to see my chasing
After you, after you
Eye-blink
My tears have already been packed up
There in the corner with all the old stuff
I've got from you, got from you
"He's not so bad," Leah whispered.
"Not bad at all," Edward agreed. "Powerful voice. The lyrics are a bit juvenile." On this front, of course, he could not judge harshly. He had the misfortune of recalling perfectly some of the trite poetry and flowery musings written in his journals, even as recently as last year. No one was great at age twenty.
"He could give you a run for your money," Leah added just to needle him.
"Then you've never truly heard me sing before," he intoned.
"Really?" She leaned closer, her arm pressing against his and her eyes sparkling as much as her dress. "There's an open mic after this, you know. Care to prove it?"
"We'll see."
Blink twice
If anything's changed at all
If you'll be there for the fall
"Get off the stage!" a voice rumbled from the entrance.
Some people glanced in that direction, but the band continued to play.
"Someone can't handle their liquor," Leah remarked, reaching for Edward's drink.
Everyone turned their attention back to Strawberry Moon.
Then, the harasser started up again. "I said, get off the fucking stage!"
Patrick missed a chord, but kept singing. A bartender strode over to the man - a scruffy white guy in his late twenties with bloodshot eyes wearing a skeleton bodysuit. The two argued back and forth quietly for a while, seeming to reach a resolution. Still, Edward slipped silently off his barstool.
Suddenly the drunk man pushed the bartender away, yelling over the music, "That punk stole my song! Get him off the stage! He's singing my song!"
With a final, angry drumbeat the song ended abruptly. The drummer, a willowy blue-haired teenager slipped off stage. She slowly made her way through the watching crowd for the drunkard.
She kept her arms crossed tightly. Her voice was low but firm. "Go home, Louis. Sleep it off, man."
"I'm not going anywhere Gracie til you do. You jackasses stole my song!"
"No one stole anything, Louis. You're not feeling well tonight. Let it go." She turned and headed back for the stage.
Louis caught her wrist, dragging her back. "The hell you think you're doing. I should -"
A hand rested on his shoulder. "I'd think carefully about how you'll finish that statement."
Louis released Gracie at once. Even with a glance out the corner of his eye, and in the poor lighting, Edward was still terrifying to this larger, older man. He watched the threat dawn on the angry patron. He could feel him shaking slightly, both from fear and the alcohol.
The tenor of his thoughts remained irate. 'Who is this asshole? Another one of those punks?'
The drummer gave Edward a nod of respect before she turned away. 'Thanks.'
Louis found his 'courage' at the last second. He spat. "That's right, leave! Take your punk boyfriend with you, crazy slut."
With lightning speed, Gracie delivered a solid punch to Luis's face.
Pain and rage exploded in his expression. Edward pushed Luis aside, but he needn't have worried. The rest of the band poured from the stage to defend their bravest member. The rest of the college students in the bar joined in on attacking Luis. Some were too drunk and enthusiastically shoved random people, setting off skirmishes all around the room.
He felt Leah's strong grip on his arm. "There you are. What the hell, Superman?"
"I could see in his mind he was determined to hurt someone, anyone, even an eighteen-year-old girl, his ex-bandmate."
"No, I mean what took you so long to step in?"
A beer bottle went flying. They flattened themselves against the back wall.
Leah shook her head."Damn it, we didn't even get a chance to talk to Patrick."
Patrick! Edward wasn't familiar enough with the boy to pick up his scent in the crowd. He craned his head around. He wasn't on stage, he wasn't joining the gangs against Louis. He was -
He pulled Leah to the floor as gently as could. "Do you see him?"
Patrick lay on the floor, unconscious. A shallow cut was bleeding a bit on his forehead.
'Shit!' Leah cracked her knuckles. They exchanged a look of understanding. 'Well, let's give it a shot.'
She looked like a mad fairy princess, crawling over food wrappers and spilled beer in her poofy black skirt and tights. She examined the singer briefly before shooting Edward a warning glance. The chaos in the bar protected them against any onlookers. One lace-gloved hand rested on Patrick's chest. Strands of blue light curled outward from her palm, snaking onto Patrick's body, glowing brightly on his exposed neck and face.
The boy sat up with a start. "What the fu -"
Leah covered his mouth. "Calm down."
She and Edward made quick work of slinging Patrick across their shoulders. Between an almost-fairy and a vampire, he was lighter than air as they dragged him out through the side door. Still, Edward had to grab the two of them before they tripped over the edge of the doorframe and landed in a heap on the gravel.
Leah and Patrick collapsed against the wall. Edward looked around for any more troublemakers. From the alleyway, he could see the streets were still busy tonight. This area had a lot of restaurants, bars, and shopping centers. He could see people milling about, hear laughter and chatter. No one paid them any mind. On New Year's especially, no one thought much of what probably looked like three college students having a smoke outside.
Suddenly, Patrick's laughter rang out. It started off light and nervous before erupting into raspy cackles, closer to his speaking voice than his smooth singing.
On instinct, Edward's hand went to the young man's head. "Are you alright?"
"Dude, that was nothing compared to most nights here."
Patrick's mind passed over other bar fights, a robbery, rumbles with street gangs. A broken arm, a busted nose.
What on earth?
"At least I was saved by Indiana Jones and…" He looked Leah over. "Hey I know you. Coffee Shop Girl."
"That's me. Nice song."
"Nice costume."
"I know."
"'You must be my lucky star,'" he sang, "''Cause you make the darkness seem so far'. You like that?"
Leah raised an eyebrow, torn between a scowl and a smile. "Hm," was all she said.
Meanwhile, Edward mentally gagged at this bizarre modern flirting ritual he had the misfortune of witnessing. "Would you like us to find your friends?"
"Nah, don't bother. I should go. Find Gracie. Thanks, man, for looking out for her."
'It should have been me,' Patrick thought as he walked away. 'If I weren't so damn scared of getting busted again.'
Edward kept an outward appearance of ease. "No problem."
Patrick was almost gone when Leah called out again. "Wait. You should repay us."
The singer frowned, confused. "Oh, yeah?"
"How about we get some food?"
Patrick scratched his stubbly cheek. He laughed again. "More than fair. Our diner's around the corner. I need to talk with the manager, but I'll get Strawberry Moon and we'll meet out front in ten. Deal?"
"Deal!" Leah waved.
The second they were alone, Edward rounded on her. "What on earth was that all about?"
"What do you mean?"
"We came here to observe. Hide, figure out if he's a threat or not, then get out. Done and done. We were supposed to check on him, not spend time with him!"
"That's the same thing," she teased. Leah held him by the arms and looked steadily into his eyes as if he were going to have a breakdown. Plausible. "Look, Ed. He may seem fine to you, but this guy smiles way too much for a person that's not about to snap."
"Leah…"
"I'm serious. Don't you think we should be sure he's alright before just disappearing?"
"Those fairies ruined your reasoning," he complained. But the more he thought it over, the more he agreed with her. Patrick was a college student with a part-time job, but he seemed to attract trouble. The idea that he was getting in fights regularly and had a violent man like Louis to watch out for disturbed Edward.
"He plays in seedy bars, too," Edward sighed.
"That's not going on the list."
"I hate when you're softhearted, he lied.
"You hate when I'm right."
He removed his brown fedora. "Wonderful. Now you've made me worry."
"Well then, what time is it?"
"A quarter to twelve, why?"
She stretched to kiss his cheek softly. The moment was so quick he wasn't even sure it had happened. "That's for midnight," she said softly. "Now we're even."
The absence of her warmth was a shock to his system. She was turning the corner when his cemented legs finally melted.
"In what universe are we even?!" he shouted after her.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
The end of winter break knocked the wind out of his lungs. Edward had spent every day at Leah's side, either helping her study her textbooks from Echo, or watching her practice for her lessons. She was something to behold when it came to magic, her hands glowing with blue light, like a superhero. She was powerful, an idea that he had trouble wrapping his head around, which made him a pigheaded prat, he knew. He couldn't stop her from whatever trouble she wanted to go looking for. All he could do was fight by her side, instead of against her. He could count on his family, at least, to help. Alice had joined him in running with her, and coaching her through her exercises. (He drew the line at sparring.) Carlisle had even offered to run tests on Leah to understand the effect the magic had on her biochemistry. Edward failed to see what could be done, but Leah said she'd consider it.
All in all, things were running smoothly, even if he didn't like the path they had taken. Leah was safe, healthy, strong, and content. That meant he had no choice but to take a break from hovering and return to school. The Cullen children had resumed their education at Forks High School at the worst time, Edward thought. After holiday festivities subsided, everyone was looking for some trivial news to fixate on, so eager for excitement in their humdrum lives. Which made their sudden reappearance all the more noteworthy.
Carlisle explained to his colleagues he brought the family back to care for an older relative on the west coast, and word had spread fully to the younger generation of Forks. This did nothing to calm them. The last few weeks were filled with old faces, once again intrigued by Edward and his siblings. It was like they had forgotten their efforts to befriend the family would always, always, be in vain.
Today, on the ride over, Alice, sitting behind him in the car, paused mid-sentence, overtook by a vision. He watched it play out in relief, thanking the sky for their luck.
Alice announced to the others, "Good news. Everyone's in a fuss about a new girl."
Rosalie rolled her eyes, managing to not stab herself with the sharp cosmetic tool she was using on her eyelids. "They have short attention spans. We'll see how long that lasts."
Emmett turned to look at her from the passenger seat. They were all pretty tall, except Alice, but Emmett was so bulky it was practically punishment to cram him into the backseat. "Who can focus when you're in the room, baby?" he flirted.
Rosalie was privately appeased, but she scolded him for trying to flatter her (since they had some tiff last night). Their banter soon turned into a lively row for which Jasper and Alice were both asked to take sides, causing Edward to drive even faster so he wouldn't have to referee.
In the cafeteria, Edward looked down at his cell phone, resisting the urge to step out and call Leah. If something happened to her, she would reach him right away, wouldn't she? He would be the first to know, since her family could have nothing to do with the fairy business. Esme would call, if she couldn't.
Emmett kicked him in the shin. Too hard. He heard the impact, stone to stone.
His brother laughed. "Dude, you look like a prom queen who got stood up by her date."
"And how would you know what that looks like?" Jasper inquired, mildly suspicious.
"You and Alice were visiting Peter and Charlotte. Eddie, remember that weird girl seven years ago who was obsessed with WWE and followed us home that one day? She asked me to prom. I said, 'I've never been more honored. Can I bring I my girlfriend?'"
"Oh, Emmett," Rose muttered, burying her face in her hands. "You're horrible at sarcasm."
"I thought I nailed it, okay! Next Monday she dumps her lunch on my head."
"I remember," Alice giggled. "Esme was still upset with you when we got back."
They laughed as quietly as we could. All of their movements were scanned for idiosyncrasies. The more dull and interesting they could appear, the better they could escape notice. Or delay it for brief periods of time.
'Edward Cullen.'
Of course. Reflexively, his head snapped to the direction he heard the mental thought.
His eyes rested on the face that had been passing throughout his mind all morning. Isabella Swan, Chief Charlie Swan's daughter. He hadn't even known the chief had a family, as the few times he'd encountered the man, he was alone, and thought little of the past or his personal life. The girl in question was pale with brown hair and wide eyes. She gazed back at Edward intently.
The voice continued, but not from the new girl. 'Of course she's already crushing on the Cullens.'
Ah, the venomous Jessica Stanley. Since the Cullens' return, her infatuation had come back stronger. Ridiculous daydreams occupied her mind during every class they shared. If it weren't enough that he had to avoid silly freshmen, he had to avoid her, who should know better by now.
Jessica continued her expected internal complaints over the male attention Isabella drew, but maintained a facade of friendliness. All of them were such idiots, her with her plotting, the dozens of lovesick boys. He'd have to tell Leah this - it was the very kind of thing she would love to hate. She always had a bit of commentary on her always-changing world, whereas he had nothing to share but the bleak past and a dismal present.
"Jessica Stanley is giving the new Swan girl all the dirty laundry on the Cullen clan," Edward murmured to Emmett, trying to ignore their classmates.
'I hope she's making it good,' Emmett replied.
"Rather unimaginative, actually. Just the barest hint of scandal. Not an ounce of horror. I'm a little disappointed."
'And the new girl? Is she disappointed in the gossip as well?'
Edward tuned back into the girls' conversation. The new girl could simply be intrigued by the beauty and aloofness of his family, or she could be one of the few that were interested enough to look closer, to solve the mystery. He always had to stay on high alert around outsiders to protect them all.
Jessica continued to gush and gossip, both internally and verbally, about rumors, clothes, and other inanities. But no audible thought accompanied Isabella Swan's quiet replies. It was as if Jessica were interacting with a machine.
Edward gritted his teeth. What was wrong with him? All of the other minds in the cafeteria were loud and clear, including his siblings'. But the one mind he couldn't detect belonged to no other than Isabella.
Was he losing his telepathy, too? Was something wrong with him? Did the fairies mean to deprive him of every sense until he fulfilled their will? Ella was clever and underhanded. She wouldn't hesitate.
No, that was too much, even for them, he decided. They meant well, even if he couldn't bring himself to fully ally with them.
Edward glanced back at the girl, meeting her eyes again. Naturally, she remained staring at the Cullens as Jessica gabbered away. He hardened his gaze, concentrating on that heart-shaped face, those doe-like eyes. So innocent, almost overly so.
Almost like a trap.
By the end of the lunch period, he was nearly certain Isabella Swan was not a human at all, and one hundred percent certain he had to talk to her.
In biology, he arrived early in order to find an empty table, then slid into a seat at the back of the room. His dangerous aura dissuaded any person from sitting near him. All except the especially ignorant and the unfamiliar.
Right on cue, Isabella, or Bella, as he'd heard Angela Weber and Mike Newton call her, walked into the room. She scanned the room to find only one seat available. Perfect.
If it were anyone else, he'd feel a bit of pity for them. Science classes required plenty of forced interaction. As it was, he felt only irritation, at her exaggerated charade of guileless youth, and hope, fruitless hope, that she might be heaven-sent.
Bella Swan dragged her feet down the aisle to her new lab partner. In a twisted way, he was pleased to see how agitated she became as he neared. If his suspicions proved correct, it was well deserved.
She wasn't green-eyed like Ella or Echo, but then again, not all fairies were - mostly the fullblood ones, without a single human in their ancestry. Troy Berry, the young soldier, also had brown eyes. If Bella was fairy, as he expected, from the way her mind was safeguarded from his telepathy, then she was hiding for a reason, and hiding it well. She could have been sent here for a message for him, as a member of the Cosaint clan or their ally. Or, she could simply be in the right place at the right time. Trouble with the Arizona fairies, possibly if her backstory was to be believed. Maybe then, he could get her on his side. A contact, or an insider of sorts.
"Hi," the suspect nodded, sitting next to him. Polite, quiet. Shy, but not just due to being the new kid. She was naturally reserved, it seemed.
"Edward," he greeted. It was a bit unnecessary with the way she'd gawked at him in the cafeteria to attach 'Cullen' to the end of it. "You're Bella Swan, right?"
"Yes." She shifted awkwardly in her seat, as if uncomfortable in her own skin. "How do you know my name?"
Edward wished he could see the gears turning in her mind, work out the proper answer before he was caught in some mistake. He laughed, shrugging. "Everyone knows your name. You're pretty popular, being the Chief's daughter."
She scowled, to his surprise, coloring a bit. "No, I mean, why'd you call me Bella?"
"Do you prefer Isabella?" he ventured.
"No, I like Bella," she told him. She eyed him cautiously. "But I think Charlie, my dad, calls me Isabella behind my back. That's what everyone here knows me as."
Edward watched as she turned to her notebook, her blush deepening. He couldn't smell her scent, beyond her fruity lotion or whatever, but he admired how appetizing she looked like that, the blood right under the surface of her skin.
Hadn't Echo mentioned fairy blood being especially intriguing?
He resolved to press on despite the failed attempt at conversation. (He knew he'd likely be an outcast even if he were a human.) Time for the interrogation.
He'd start small. Mr. Banner was too busy getting lost in his own insufferable lecture to allow for questions at the moment. So he leaned over and asked, "How do you like Forks?"
She looked up, gazing at him skeptically, before answering, indifferently, "It's fine."
No wonder she kept every boy on a string, as aloof as she was. "Not a fan of the cold?"
"Or the wet," she added.
"This must be a difficult place for you to live." He wanted to tell her outright, 'if you live here at all'. He wanted to ask her if she knew the Cosaint clan of fairies, if she knew he was a vampire, if there was some way for her to help him and Leah out of their deal, if she was a spy or an ally. But he couldn't make a fool of himself until she revealed something, the way Echo had in the nightclub.
Instead, she sighed. "You have no idea."
"Why'd you move here, then? If you don't mind me asking."
"It's...complicated." She glared out into the distance, as if cursing the whole room.
"I think I can keep up," he insisted. It was a bit rude sure, but he'd have to be to get her to talk.
Bella stared down at her hands, shielding her eyes. This was it. This was what he'd been waiting for. The reveal, the hint, the secret. A warning? A sign of solidarity?
She sat up straighter. In a rush she said, "My mother got married."
Oh. Okay. How disappointingly human. And how embarrassingly wrong on his part. Now that he'd gotten her to confide in him, he didn't know how to close the conversation that he'd started. The girl's sadness and regret were clear in her eyes. It would be cruel, even for him, to brush her off now, after insisting he cared.
"That doesn't sound so complex," he said gently. Maybe talking it over would make it better. It wouldn't kill him to interact with someone outside of necessity. It hadn't hurt him to hang out with Patrick, odd as it was. "When did that happen?"
"Last September."
"And you don't like him?"
She smiled fondly. "No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."
Her situation was more complex than he'd have guessed.
"Why didn't you stay with them?" he wondered, growing invested. Human problems had always seemed so trite and straightforward, but combined with her silent mind, this was like watching a movie scene play out.
"Phil travels a lot. He's a baseball player," she explained, amused.
"Have I heard of him?"
"I don't think so. He doesn't play well." She smiled wider, the brightest he'd seen her looking all day. "Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."
"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him," Edward concluded. Bella was more inclined to correct assumptions than answer direction questions.
"No, she did not send me here," she snapped, chin jutting out defiantly. "I sent myself."
Edward felt lost, both to her meaning, and the reason for her anger. Could she be dropping a hint? Would she now communicate with him telepathically? Or was the conversation closed?
Two minutes of silence passed. Mr. Banner finished his lecture and handed out a worksheet.
Edward cringed and was forced to confess to a rare truth - "I don't understand."
Bella dramatically sighed and turned to him. "She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. So I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie."
"But now you're unhappy," he assessed.
"And?" she said, as if the statement were unworthy of mention.
He hesitated. He could not read her mind, but he could see her heart. There was too much benevolence in the girl for her to be a fairy. He suffered the realization in dull disappointment and festering mortification.
"I see," he conceded.
She scoffed, but in a gentle manner. "So ends my tale of woe."
"You put on a good show," he observed. "You don't want anyone to see how difficult this is for you."
She flinched. "Why does it matter to you?" she fumed.
Yet her face remained beautifully flushed, as if the conversation had brought on embarrassment for her. Yes, he wasn't so cold he couldn't admit that, at the present moment, she was pretty. Such details rarely occurred to him - it was the effect good character brought to one's countenance.
"I was trying to be sympathetic." If this girl couldn't help him, he didn't need to draw her attention, and, possibly worse, her irritation.
She stared up at him, her dark, wide eyes fixed on his, not glaring, but observing. Not warm, but not cool. Brave girl she was, she took him in, not in awe or fear of his golden eyes and crystalline skin, but as if she were peering into his mind.
She leaned away, a smile playing at her full lips. "Ah, well, thanks."
Mr. Banner chose that moment to call on him. He answered the question flawlessly, relieved to deal with humans he understood. Whatever was the matter with Bella Swan, it was not his concern.
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
Edward lounged across the grass, lazily leaning over an old book. A midwinter picnic was even more pleasant than a summer one, due to the solitude of the woods. Near tranquility.
He rolled to his right, a millisecond before Leah crashed to the ground, spreading dirt onto his blanket, and consequently, his book.
She laughed, rolling onto her side. Propping her head on her arm, she panted out an apology.
He rolled to his side, too. "Sorry won't heal my book," he seethed, glaring at her.
"It was jibber-jabber, anyway."
"Latin. It was in Latin."
She fanned her face. "Ooh, talk nerdy to me, Edward Cullen! The cutest, smartest boy in our school!" she mocked.
He snagged a twig from her hair. "Is this our future, our guardian? All brawn, no brains."
She reached over him to pull the sword lodged in the dirt by his head. "You forgot beauty."
"Wrong target," Echo called, finally jogging over. She helped Leah to her feet. "Break's up, kid."
"Maybe it's best to leave the swords out until you two master the basics," Edward cautioned.
Echo met the challenge in his eyes. She put her hands on her hips. "This is the basics."
The blunt spears had been one thing, but the swords... Edward looked doubtful at the gilded silver sword on her hip, sapphire jewels encrusted onto the hilt. Leah's own weapon - what an odd phrase - was a simpler blade, though they both were nerve-wracking. Leah was durable, strong, and fast, but she could die from a fatal wound. Any fairy would, too.
Thankfully, Echo boasted a sword made of a material that could hold against a vampire's strength, provided the wielder was also just as strong and durable as the weapon. And if his fight against Major Berry was any testament to the clan's abilities, then such tools were not wasted.
The major, as if sensing his companion's thoughts, grinned at Edward when the ladies returned to their fight. He was writing in a notebook, keeping track of Leah's progress. "Fierce, aren't they?"
"A bit too much, for my taste," Edward admitted. "As much as I admire them."
"You would hate life in a fairy kingdom. Maybe just ours, though. No place is like Cosaint."
No one spoke much of the neighboring clans or realms. Often, Troy and Echo spoke as if Cosaint was their whole world. "Tell me of the others."
"There's this clan - 'the rebels' is all they're called since they change their name so much. They're living underwater, out east, in a Great Lake, I forget the one. And believe me, it takes strong magic to create a stable environment submerged in water."
"That's what makes them rebels?" Edward asked. "Living in water?"
"Not so much as the fact as they don't follow our customs: tending to nature, living in harmony with one another, no monarchy or law. No sort of government these days." He closed his book, but kept his eyes on the duel. "Then there's Arlun. Small, but respectable. They're a little too focused on money, but one can appreciate their contributions to the arts and all. Most of them are so human-minded that they keep houses outside the realm. Echo stayed with the royal family in New York when she went after you."
"Don't remind me," Edward groaned.
"Of course," he chuckled. "Now that I think about it, you'd probably like Troeon. I stayed there for a little bit, when I lived with my dad."
Edward nodded. "Leah mentioned something. He was human?"
"Yeah. My mother often visited her own clan, the Morning Greens. She didn't like to speak of them and never brought me along. I didn't even know I was half-fairy until I was eleven."
"Did your dad know?"
"Since the beginning. It was complicated, and I think he regretted falling for such a free spirit. He thought he could tame her, but she flew away, like in all the old tales about fairy wives." He smiled sadly. "The Troeon found me out, down in Colorado, and they kept an eye on me, until my mom passed away and her family brought me up north to their clan. Real peaceful guys. They care about animals more than any of us. Sort of like you and your coven, eh? The Cosaint protects, but the Troeon do too, in a quieter way. They taught me as much in a few years as I learned in a decade with my birth clan."
"That explains why they assigned you to look after Echo."
"You're probably right." He was quiet for a moment. "She's got a good heart, you know. No royal has worked as hard or cared so much. In the field, on tours and in training, there is no one I trust more to fight by my side."
"So she is more of a partner, then?" Edward smirked.
"If she plays her cards right," he joked.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," said Echo, retying her ponytail as she sauntered over. She turned to Leah. "You know, it would be useful to us for you to fight someone more of a challenge."
"More of a challenge!" Edward exclaimed. "Leah is already fighting someone who spent the last two years in an army."
"Three years," she corrected. "But only part-time, with princess duties. 'Should ye have a royal seat, thy work is never fully complete.'"
"Your grandma?" Leah guessed.
"Yeah."
"I hated that."
Echo pursed her lips. "At least fight me, then," she said to Edward. "I've fought vampires before. I've sparred with fairies above my skill level and experience, including Major Berry, who, if he is to be believed, did not have much of a challenge with you."
"Much of a challenge!" Leah countered. "He passed out."
Echo made a noncommittal noise. "I wasn't there."
"It is true, he did pass out," Edward argued.
"Must we speak of this?" Troy groaned, pressing his face into his notebook.
"Besides, I'm curious," Echo added. "I'd like to think we're sending our Guardian out there with a strong Hunter by her side."
He wasn't as strong as Emmett or as experienced as Jasper, but he could hold his own in sparring against either of them. Of course, his telepathy played a role in that, but he was expected to fight vampires, not fairies, wasn't he? "I'm plenty capable."
Echo shrugged exaggeratedly, daring him.
"Alright, Your Highness," Edward conceded. "I accept your challenge."
Where was the harm in amusing them all? Maybe if Echo saw that he was far too strong, Leah wouldn't be thrown to the dogs on the fairies' fancy.
"Excellent." Echo stretched her arms, trying to hide her glee. "First person pinned for three seconds loses."
Edward faltered. He was significantly stronger, no matter what tricks she had prepared. It would be almost too easy. No challenge.
"But if I win," Echo amended, "You have to fight Leah. Though if you're too chicken, you can ask one of your pals to sub in."
"How about five seconds pinned?" Edward suggested. He didn't want to win unfairly. He'd give the princess a good chance.
"If you insist."
Leah would referee and Troy would serve as lookout for any interlopers. Echo was forbidden from speaking in his mind to distract him. And Edward had been placed under a no-biting rule, which offended him greatly. He would never resort to such caveman tactics.
"On your mark!" Leah shouted.
Both vampire and fairy shifted into a wider stance. This far apart, she looked feeble, slight -
"Get set!"
Edward thought back to when Emmett taught him all this. He'd been pitiful, but now -
"Go!"
Echo turned and scaled the nearest tree, swinging onto a low branch. She shot blasts of light from her hand.
Edward covered his eyes. He was blinded, only briefly, and the pain was present but dull.
When he recovered, Echo was climbing higher. In one jump, he reached the highest limb, dropping across from her.
"Finally!" she condescended, kicking him in the shin. As strong as he was, his weight remained as light as any other thin teenage boy. He caught himself, in time to duck her next cross punch, but not the following uppercut.
She was fast, but speed was on his side, not hers. He kicked at her shoulder, landing the hit, then at her hip, pushing her off the tree.
Instantly, panic overtook him. What was he thinking?! She couldn't take that kind of damage! He was a brute, a barbarian!
He dropped down after her, hoping he'd catch her in time. As he sailed through the air, a firm whack to the side knocked him into the tree trunk. He wilted to the ground, looking up to see her standing over him.
He rolled out of the way, missing the next strike of her sword.
Rocketing to his feet he met her halfway. He blocked every methodical blow to his head, the metal clanging against his granite arms. Every few shots, he stepped to the side, little by little, taunting her.
"You got this, Coco!" Troy shouted. "Don't die, Edward!"
"C'mon!" Leah cheered them both on, wanting one of them to make a distinction.
Sweat formed on Echo's brow as she slowed. He couldn't physically fatigue, lucky him. She was so obviously trained to follow a strict set of rules she couldn't see any other way to win.
Ah, but he did.
Edward held still for her next strike, meeting it head on. He grabbed the blade, turned away from her, and elbowed her away. He tossed the sword off into the woods, spinning back around to block her incoming fist.
Hanging onto her arm, he twirled her around, forcing her into a headlock.
"One!" Leah counted. "Two! Three!"
Echo slackened, breathing deeply.
Edward loosened his grip. No need to hurt her. The win was in his hands.
Something hit him in the chest, pushing him off. One second, it was all papery material in his face, then Echo was floating above him, looking majestic and manvelonet, her lilac gossamer wings fanning out behind her.
"Holy shit," he heard Leah mutter. He nearly echoed the phrase himself.
Echo raised her hands to the sky, then threw them down, aiming for the vampire. Above him, the clouds darkened to a warning gray, before unleashing heavy rain in the clearing, covering him and only him, following him as he ran for cover. It was almost thick enough to be a waterfall. Through the slight blur of water, he saw Echo chase him, sliding in the mud, grabbing her fallen weapon.
Echo floated above him, shooting blasts of light, angling so she didn't get too close. The few that thit him stung, even more than they first had. Edward pushed through, knowing he had seconds before she fatigued.
Then she slashed through the canopy of rain, ducking out of the way when he striked. Edward crouched, cursing as he dodged the fake-Excalibur. She seemed reluctant to get wet, only sweeping through the area, never getting close.
Once again, she ran her sword through the water, but her arm was seized by the caged vampire. This time, he didn't try to wrestle her for the sword. She growled in frustration, her feather-light wings now heavy, clinging to her clothes.
She kicked and punched like a tired old man having a fever dream. He laughed out loud at the thought, unaware of the ire he was sparking. Echo growled, throwing her sword at his head, as if shooting a dart. He spun away, but immediately felt a foot in his back and two hands wrapped around his throat.
Leah began counting down.
The millisecond before he stood to throw her off him, her hands glowed a dark cornflower blue and shooting pain racked through his body.
"Two! Three! Four!"
To his surprise, Echo didn't increase the pain anymore than that, just enough to keep him in place, paralyzed. He went still in her grip, annoyed that Leah was counting so slow.
"Eight! Nine! Ten!"
Echo dropped him to the ground, but he caught himself in time, brushing the mud off of his clothes with the picnic blanket.
He shook Echo's hand with burgeoning respect, and no small amount of astonishment. He wasn't chagrined at the defeat because she was a woman, or young, but because...he was a vampire. The world's deadliest predator. And a fairy with a couple years of training wiped the floor with him, just now! (He told himself it made little difference, since hardly anyone was there, but Leah was, and that seemed to make all the difference!)
Still, worse yet, was what was to come.
"I'm ready to go next," Leah declared.
"I just had a fight." Edward declined.
"But Echo had two sparring matches in a row!" she countered, pointing to the fairy who though disheveled, radiated clarity and pride, shooing away the major's attempts to prop her up.
Edward promised tomorrow and said his goodbyes soon after, and though he felt those curious, penetrating dark eyes trail after him, he couldn't bring himself to meet them.
When Edward returned home, tail between his legs, he was met by Emmett on his way out.
"I was hoping to meet you here," his brother called to him, waving. "You look like crap."
"I'm going to get a shower," Edward replied.
"You're already dirty. Let's go hunt."
Edward sighed despondently and trailed after him.
Once they were a good distance from the house, Emmett offered, 'Besides, it'll give you some time to toughen up. She must have got you good.'
"You're thinking of Leah. No, it was Echo, the princess."
Emmett laughed heartily, eagerly listening to Edward's play-by-play. When it was over, he said, "You should have seen it coming."
"That she could fight like that? She's cocky and proud, but I took her for more of the scholar type."
"No, not only that, man. She wants to intimidate you."
"Intimidate me?" Edward balked.
"She's trying to prove a point. That she could kick your ass, er, I mean, hold her own, so don't get any ideas."
Edward considered it, as he ran for the nearest prey, a young deer.
When he was fed, he caught up with his brother, who was sitting against a tree humming a folk song to himself.
Edward dropped down by him. "That makes sense. She doesn't trust me and she knows I don't trust her. Leah would say she did, because she wants to, but she shouldn't. Not wholly."
'I guess that's good. Protect your own. If this were my girl, I wouldn't let her out of my sight.'
"She's my friend," Edward enunciated.
Emmett blinked. "You don't have friends."
"Now I do. And you'll be off the list if you keep bugging me."
"All I was gonna say is, she's special to you, whatever label you want to put on it. And with the way you act, she'll smell that from a mile away. Just do what they need you to do and keep your head down, then get out. Don't make waves with any of them, even the nice ones."
Edward laughed to himself. "You make it sound like a cult or something."
"Isn't it?" Emmett mocked.
It was a joke he laughed at then, but it echoed long, long, long after that night.