The whole of the FF community, me included, owes IdreamofEddy for coming up with Peter having the gift of just knowing shit.
WARNING: The second flashback includes violent, yet consensual sex. And at the end of the chapter there is rough discipline that includes a sexual act.
Chapter 3: Fluid Tactics
In the middle of the night, the day after Alice and I had returned from our stint in Phoenix, I got a call from an unknown number.
"Major," Peter's voice greeted me.
He, presumably, had waited to call from a payphone when he knew it was the best time of day to get a hold of me, since I was usually masquerading as a human during sun up hours.
"One minute," I answered and then sprinted away from the house. Ensuring no one was in range, I then asked, "Would you be up to some surveillance and babysitting work? It's in Phoenix, Arizona."
He waited a second, no doubt waiting for Charlotte's answer.
"How long?" he queried.
"Undetermined," I told him.
"Six months," he bartered.
"As long as you're willing," I agreed easily, feeling relieved and attempting to convey succinctly that there was no need to barter. He was free to say no, although this was the closest he had ever gotten. "Check in at Buckeye Motor Hotel. The address is: 202 E, US HWY 85, Buckeye, AZ 85326. Reservation will be under your name. Still the same?" I checked.
"No reason to change it," he answered with a tone suggesting that he was insulted that I would even ask.
"When can they expect you to arrive?" I asked.
He and Charlotte talked it over and agreed to 65 hours.
"I'll have Enterprise bring you a car to use indefinitely," I told him. Then, tacked on, "Details of subject will be provided via a courier service to the room."
"You'll get your first debrief in five days after arrival," he informed me.
"Good," I agreed and then hung up, sighing in a wishful seemingly futile desire to improve my relationship with him.
We had so many years working in a particular way together that it was easy to slip in to those roles, even if I wished at times for it to change. Figuring that a letter accompanying my information would be best, I pulled out parchment from my back pocket that I had grabbed in case he had agreed.
Peter,
There is no one else in this world that I would trust with this job aside from you and Charlotte.
The details of the girl are enclosed, including her home and school addresses. Additionally, I've enclosed two tracking devices that you can put in the cars found at the home address, a phone, which is included due to its ability to indicate where the tracking devices are, and instructions. If you would rather not use the technology, by all means go ahead. It is only an option.
I have included $100,000 cash for your trouble.
I can hear you in my ear asking why this girl. As odd as it sounds, I'm truly hoping you can answer that question. She is the daughter of our local sheriff living with her mother and stepfather. She was supposed to arrive here in Forks, but didn't. Her decision to come put her on Alice's radar, which is odd, and more information seems critical at this juncture. This is why my answer was undetermined. I trust you to give me the intelligence necessary to take the next steps regarding this girl, whatever those may be.
Keep yourself safe.
Your brother-in-arms
Returning to the house, I purposefully thought solely about Peter and him needing money. After calling a courier service as soon as it was dawn, I left the package with Esme letting her know who was coming and the time they had stated someone would be by.
When we were all in the car, Alice on my lap, she sent me her appreciation and approval. Starting that afternoon after school, I began replenishing my safe in increments of $9000, as to not set off the $10,000 withdraw rule, from my personal slush fund. If I could have send them more without insulting them, I would have.
Just as Peter had promised he called eight days later. Surprisingly, he did so on the phone I had sent, as I didn't expect him to use it.
"Dullest work ever," he told me with a slight teasing tone.
"Nothing is good," I replied in a joking tone.
"Wake up, make food, go to school, come home, make food, sit in room writing and reading, lay in bed, read some more, shower, go to bed, and sleep, then repeat," he reported.
"Did you use the gizmos?" I wondered.
His smile could be heard in his tone. "Yeah, Charlotte was all for it. She even put one in the girl's backpack. It's working like a charm."
"Brilliant idea," I commended him. Then, after a moment wondered, "How did she not find it?"
Peter sounded prideful, "Something to do with sewing. You'd have to ask Charlotte."
"She's always been a smart one," I told him, praising them both, "although I don't remember that being the quality that caught your eye."
"More than a handful is a requirement," Peter joshed, "smarts only sealed the deal."
With every batch of newborn girls that Maria turned Peter would find at least one to enjoy himself with. Maria didn't care about Peter's trysts, as long as it didn't detract from the female in question's ability to be a soldier. Consequently, Peter often made sure to also spend time with them training one-on-one, so Maria wouldn't restrict his access.
His choices were highly predictable, and after a few years I hypothesised that Maria changed girls based on Peter's preferences. What tipped her hand was for those few times when she had determined that I, and by extension Peter, had underperformed for her, she would then only change girls who barely had bee sting chests. In fairness, Peter had responded by finding the one with the biggest stings out of the bunch.
So, when a newborn showed up with larger tits than Maria usually changed I knew it was as a reward to Peter, since we had just taken a patch of dirt from Carlos that she had been on about for a few months.
After breaking in the newbies and some general training, I gave everyone some R&R and went to get myself one of the spare humans kept in the corral. Sure enough across the camp Peter was chatting with the newborn I had pegged as being his reward. She was pretty enough with her blond hair and hourglass figure. Like most of our newborns she had the look of someone who was accustomed to having to fight for survival. She must have been a tough cookie, because Peter was still at it as I crossed the yard again heading towards my quarters.
They were talking too low to be heard, but he was full of lust, while she was primarily suspicious.
It was three days later when standing together watching the troops pair off to test their skills, I got the chance to ask him, "How's it going with the new blond?"
"Whittling her down," he answered with a slight smile and an emotional mix, which suggested that he was enjoying the challenge.
"Lost your touch?" I teased.
He growled in his chest playfully. "Nah, she's just playing hard to get. No girl can resist an officer."
In mock surprise I jested, "An officer, you? I think you're mistaking yourself for the muck boy."
"I get the newbies and you get Maria," he threw back at me, "who's the muck boy really?"
Growling lowly in warning, I, nevertheless, retorted in a joking tone, "Can't compare a newborn to a woman."
"I'll take my fresh meat, thanks all the same," he replied his tone stern while his emotions were satisfied.
"Better you than me," I told him. "All that hope and expectation only to be betrayed, none of that for me."
In a tone, as if I had offended him, he stated, "No reason to malign my good name. I don't make empty promises, nor fuel false hope. I promise a good time, and deliver. They're newborns in need of a good ride. Just offering my services."
"A noble enterprise," I kidded. "You're vying for sainthood."
"Exactly," he confirmed. "Glad you got me sussed." Then, after a pregnant pause he asked sounding serious, even if his feelings were tantalizing, "Don't suppose you could help me get one step closer to that sainthood by giving me the inside scoop?"
"Thought sainthoods had to be earned on your own measure?" I mockingly queried.
He sighed. "Can't fault a guy for asking."
Chuckling, I wondered, "What's your plan of attack?"
"Wearing her down and breaking through those heavy walls she's got surrounding her brick by brick," he answered chuckling lightly. "Worked on you, didn't it?" he jabbed.
"No, I remember there being a sledgehammer," I joked back.
"Exactly," he agreed keeping his face from showing the merriment he felt. "God gifted me with a sledgehammer and one day soon she's going to be on the receiving end thanking Jesus loudly for the privilege of polishing my knob."
"Still enjoying the brown haired girl you mounted during the blond's turning?" I teased.
"Major," he uttered as if shocked and dismayed, "are you suggesting that I limit myself to that barely two cherries a side dame, giving her the best rides of her short newborn life when I could also have cantaloupe?"
His choice picks for the two older groups were ash already. If nothing else, he was predictable. Once he picked a girl from a batch, he didn't change, only picking from the next batch. Rarely did all the girls he choose last long enough for him to have four alive at a time, but it had happened a time or two. Two or three was most common.
Chuckling at him my tone serious once more, I merely responded, "Just make sure your games don't cause problems in the ranks."
"Life's too short not to live on the edge," he retorted.
"With them or Maria?" I asked playfully.
"Both, my man, both," he answered solemnly.
In fairness to him, his interest in the girls and his use of them never had caused trouble. Peter seemed to have a sixth sense of how to intercede and smooth things out before they became an issue. His ability to intuitively understand a situation and how to adjust accordingly made him handy with the newborns and in a fight, not to mention helping me learn more about my extra ability.
Through trial and error, often at his expense, I learned to differentiate my emotions from those around me, tell generally what someone was feeling, even from a distance of fifty to a hundred yards, although Maria was on my radar if she was within 3 miles, distinguish top emotions from those deeper in a person, and, probably most importantly, how to use my ability to help defeat the enemy.
It was almost two weeks later when Peter seemed to stop pursuing the blond, but he also wasn't showing interest in anyone else in her group. It wasn't like him to go more than a few days without one of his girls helping him clean out the plumbing.
It was a few days later when, after a romp with Maria, she asked me, "The blond a problem?"
"No," I answered earnestly. "She's learning quickly, tenacious, and follows orders."
"Mmmm," she mused her emotions contemplative and leery. Then, after a moment instructed, "Keep an eye on her. I have a feeling that she's trouble."
"Yes, Mistress," I agreed, getting my trousers on.
She paused one more moment before jerking her head towards the door, a sure indication that she was dismissing me.
The next time Peter and I had time to speak I told him about Maria's order.
"She's a heap of trouble for sure," he answered sarcastically.
"Just do your job," I growled, uncomfortable with the feelings of affection and fondness coming from Peter.
Maria had weird insights, but they had never been wrong. From then on I watched the blond more closely than the other newborns.
It was only after the brown haired girl Peter's had enjoyed was ash, killed in a patrol, that Peter scored with the blond. It seemed like the blond's yes had to do with her death. Had the blond refused Peter because she didn't want a rival? It was unusual for Peter to limit himself to only one girl, but not unheard of, and definitely not something alerting. What was most odd was Peter's stretch of lack until the blond had said yes.
Was he so besotted with the blond that he had been willing to go without until he gained her favour? He wasn't usually so finicky. Previously if a girl had put him off for a few days, he'd let them know that they'd lost out on a good opportunity and then go after his second choice. He made it clear to them that it was nothing more than fun and that if they got clingy or possessive of him, he would cut their time together short. He had seemed to revel in the variety.
Unsure of what Peter's behaviour meant, let alone the new emotions I had picked up from him, my course of action was to acquire more information, which meant waiting and watching. Never once in the pit did I notice any difference in how Peter treated the blond in comparison to any of his previous enjoyments.
Using my ability on him, on the surface level nothing had changed. Below that was also the same within an acceptable variance of alteration. However, it was in the underneath feelings where Peter's differences were noticeable. They weren't huge things, but together they signified that he was in a state of contentment. In fact, it was such a foreign sensation that it had taken me almost ten minutes to find a word to suit the feeling I had sensed from him. It was miraculous, like finding a daisy in the midst of the bloodied bodies of fallen comrades and enemies.
The only new thing in Peter's life was the blond, but I couldn't understand how her presence might have formed this magnificent state. Refusing to ask Peter any questions or even hint at what I had discovered, in case doing so might reveal it to Maria, I formed options of how to bask in it without Maria noticing.
Maria had a canny ability to know when someone was lying, and I had too many scars from her lessons in honesty to consider any route where I would hold information she would want. Thus, after much contemplation, my conclusion was that the best course of action was to do nothing different and keep the whole thing to myself, even though doing so was devastating, as I wanted to shout out my discovery, and force Peter to explain it all.
Even after all the years, Charlotte continued to offer Peter something that I had yet to fully grasp, even though my ability picked up the feelings, and influenced him to be his utmost.
"Let's give it a week?" I offered.
"Yeah," he agreed. He paused, but seemed to want to say more, so I waited. "Charlotte suggested returning the car you got and us buying a truck."
"Whatever you need," I agreed easily. Them having a truck would certainly blend them into the human world a bit more. "Use the house in Colorado for an address if you need one. Everything should get forwarded to here, and then I can courier you the tags and licensing papers." Going over everything mentally they might need, since they were barely integrated into the human world, I then added, "The tinting, if you want, can usually be done in house by the car dealer, but you'll have to wait an hour or so."
My current lifestyle inclined me to offer him more money, as Alice could make it up in less than a second. However, Peter was a prideful man, and such an offer would not have been welcomed, so I said nothing, trusting he would work it out.
"Copy," he answered.
"It means a lot," I told him, attempting to nudge us into new waters.
"No problem," he responded, sounding slightly uncomfortable.
"'K, talk to you in a week," I stated before ending the call.
Despite my time with them after Maria, I had not fully learned the version of Peter that Charlotte's presence created. He had expanded beyond being my second into also being her lover and champion. I delighted in what my ability found within him, but without doubt Charlotte had changed things between Peter and I. We couldn't go back, even if either of us wanted to, which we didn't. We needed something new, a bridge, which allowed Peter to be Charlotte's Peter while he also stood beside me.
I had no idea how Peter and I might get there, but as the phone disconnected for the first time I saw a spark of possibility. Maybe this assignment to mind Alice's human would be the bridge we needed. My hope grew into a small flame.
The next day at school it snowed, there was a car crash in the parking lot, a child got hurt, and I managed the blood without killing anyone. Carlisle and Esme were proud of me, which would have been fine if it didn't cause me to feel like they saw me as a teenager instead of the seasoned warrior I truly was. They meant well, but they didn't understand how disciplined Maria had forced me to become. Yeah, sure, a few times in the beginning of us joining them my dislike of playing human combined with a strong burn and a nearby human had resulted in a few dead bodies, but their attitude was annoying. They acted like each human life was so important.
After leaving Maria, Peter, Charlotte, and I travelled as north as our feet could take us and then down south as close as we were willing to get. The land was amazing. Peter and Charlotte had chosen to find humans in the midst of grievous deeds against their own kind. Peter swore that their blood was glorious, since those who hurt others were accustomed to having power over others, and thus losing that power pushed fear and the accompanying chemicals into their bodies at higher degrees than most other meals, causing their blood to taste rich. I could find no disagreement. It was far better than going into a village and slaughtering everything that moved. Then, for me, there was the added bonus of the rare blood bag, which held no shame or regret.
The best meals, though, not based on flavour, but my enjoyment of them, were the rare ones I found who were so absolutely despondent that they wished for death, but held their own hand. Their emotions called out to me. Sure the despondency was hard for me to handle, but their yearning for death was a siren. Two in particular stood out to me.
One was a man that I came across as he exited a bar.
"You alright?" I asked. "You look a little rough for wear."
Pushing him a steady stream of my truth serum mix, he quickly confessed tears running down his face, "The doctors say that I have a month to live. Cancer something or other," he explained. "The pain is unbearable, but I don't have money for the medicine. Drink is the cheapest thing I can find. I would end my own life, but the damn insurance policy only pays for accidental. So, I keep trying to drink enough to keep the pain away and hoping to accidently crash my car, even though I'd rather keep it for my Betsy."
Looking at him seriously, I told him, pushing trust and comfort, "I would be willing to help."
His eyes grew large. "You would?"
"Sure," I assured him. "I could make it look like a robbery and stabbing."
"Not the watch, it was my father's nor my wedding ring," he rejoined.
Enjoying the man's attitude and his willingness to face his death on his own terms I agreed easily.
"Follow me," I told him, withdrawing my ability so he could choose on his own.
He took a moment, and then squared his shoulders and followed. Courage and relief replaced the despondency.
I walked a few blocks into an alley and moved down it to where there was no light. He was nervous, but resolved.
Turning around, I instructed, "Come here and put your back against the wall."
He did so, and then looking directly into my certainly onyx eyes he asked, "Will it hurt?"
"As little as I can make it," I answered.
He nodded, and then closed his eyes. Sending him euphoria, joy, and ecstasy, I took out my knife, stabbed his chest, and drank directly from the wound. This had the added bonus of a lack of evidence from my teeth and a lack of venom in him, although it meant that some of the blood could not be consumed.
Right before his heart stopped, I withdrew allowing some additional blood to flow from his chest, as he mouthed the words, "Thanks, man." He was slightly sad, but mostly relieved.
The second was a young girl I found standing on the side of a bridge looking over.
"Going to jump?" I asked.
"Thinking about it," she answered blithely without any prompting from my ability.
"How come?" I wondered coming to stand next to her on her left.
"I can't go back," she replied. Many long minutes passed before she continued, "I could try and hide, but he would find me. I am his possession to do with as he desires. I look in the mirror and no longer recognise myself. I am a shell of my past and trapped."
"Would jumping help?" I questioned.
She smiled sadly. "In a way, yes. The scandal would be a kind of revenge."
"To disappear or for your body to be found?" I enquired.
She seemed to think for a long time before she answered, "I think the best would be if I had been raped and murdered with it appearing like he did it."
"You would need his things found by your body and stage it during a time when no one else would be able to account for his whereabouts," I told her with a wicked smile.
"He is presently home alone drunk, and there are a few of his items in my car," she told me. "Would that do?"
The relief from the possibility was like a sweet refreshing bath. It almost begged me.
"Yes," I answered seriously.
She stood watching the water as her emotions swirled.
"Could you make it look like a rape without the act?" she asked evenly.
"If that is what you wished," I replied.
Then, she walked off her emotions expectant and glad.
Following her, we ended up in a park, and she went a few steps into the woods. Facing me, she instructed, "Push me."
Careful with my strength, I did as she requested.
"Rip my clothes," she directed.
Considering how it would be for a human man, I thought about a rapist Peter had consumed and the dead woman at his feet who had been my meal. Leaning over her, I duplicated how the clothes had been torn.
"Do as you wish," she ordered, resignation and liberation strongest with a tinge of revengeful pleasure.
I pushed my fingers into her opening, so that her body would have the indicators of a sexual encounter in a manner that would be most pleasurable to her. To increase the affect, I sent her the cocktail of how Peter and Charlotte felt for each other. My fingers moved swiftly over her pleasure spots, measuring my strength not to hurt her too much. Increasing my ability, so she wouldn't feel the pain like the rapist's victim, I squeezed her breasts until they bruised and then went back to fiddling with the nipples. Then moving my body so that our pelvis' matched up, I checked, "May I?"
"If you wish," she panted, while her emotions were gleeful.
"This is going to hurt," I warned her.
She nodded and a timid smile parted her lips while her emotions were anticipation.
Dropping my fly, I entered swiftly breaking her pelvis in a way that a human might while smothering her with a lustful orgasmic cocktail from my ability. She came shortly after. Pulling out of her and zipping up in one movement, I took my knife, slashed into her femoral artery and drank her blood and juices making sure to send her my euphoria as I did so. Doing so created another orgasm for her.
Her emotions were pure gratefulness and respite and she mumbled her thanks while her life functions crawled to an end. In my own appreciation I found her address in her pocketbook, snuck into her house, smeared some of her blood onto his clothes, ripped a bit of the material, took it back to her body, and then called it in to the police giving her husband's appearance as the perpetrator.
Sure, there were lots of humans that died in unpleasant distasteful ways in my years under Maria, and I didn't want to treat my sustance like that anymore, but that didn't mean every humans' life was sacred or that for some death wasn't a welcomed relief. It was just one in the myriad of ways that Carlisle's beliefs and my opinions differed. Rosalie and I had talked about it once and she agreed with me to a point. She did think that some blood bags were worthless scum, but that in the majority they should be allowed to live their lives without us being executioner.
Rosalie's ability to hold her own opinion despite the heavy proselytising and human envy that existed in the Cullen household impressed me, especially because she held a strong dose of human envy herself, mostly due to her one unfulfilled wish to bear children. It bonded us in the household in a manner that I didn't have with anyone else. Through the years we had many of these types of conversations, strengthening the emotional connections between us. It was interesting to note that as a result I was more intellectually connected to Rosalie than Alice.
Emmett presented himself as a doer rather than an intellectual, like Carlisle and Edward, so our conversations probably gave Rosalie an outlet that wasn't there with Emmett. Outwardly it probably appeared that Alice and my relationship was much like Emmett and Rosalie's, except emotions and the connections they create don't lie, and Emmett and Rosalie's connection was almost as exquisite to examine as Peter and Charlotte's. Alice's and my connection was a single lane dirt road in comparison to their expressway.
A week later when Peter called he reported no alterations with one Bella Swan.
"Call if anything changes or if you're ready for different scenery," I told him plainly aware of how utterly dull human lives could be.
In March a group of three nomads showed up in Forks, although there had been some deaths labelled as animal attacks in the peninsula, which from later information supposedly ignited the Quiluetes' genes to begin their shifting.
Laurent, pretending to be the leader, introduced himself and then the others as James and Victoria. James' emotions when he looked at Alice told me he had known her and was surprised to see her again. His emotions towards her were possessive and excited.
I told Edward We shouldn't take them back to the house, even though Carlisle was likely inclined to do so.
Carlisle's treatment of strangers reminded me a little of the stories he told about meeting the Volturi. It didn't take an ability to see that he admired their hospitality and ability to hold a permanent residence. It was curious to consider how he might be modelling aspects of his coven after the Volturi. In that regard, I agreed with Alice, Carlisle's relationship with Aro might be our best protection.
Carlisle and Laurent agreed for us all to play some baseball together, so the teams were reorganised. My assumption was that it was a front to size us up and learn more about our strengths and weaknesses. I told Edward so, and made the decision to hide our abilities. A few seconds later, Edward indicated Alice's and his agreement.
"No cheating allowed," Edward declared, letting everyone else in on our intentions.
While we played the game, I worked on James' feelings towards Alice and attempted to shift the surface emotions towards Victoria. Even though if he were infatuated with Alice at a deeper level, it would do little good, I wasn't willing to do nothing. James' top feelings suggested that he carried a strong connection to Victoria, but loosely. His emotional tone towards her was formidably possessive, yet slightly aggravated, like she was his annoying toy that got on his nerves, but would never let out of his grasp. Moving his curiosity, desire, and longing directed at Alice towards Victoria was tricky business. My past had taught me that he had to buy into these changes, or they wouldn't stick, potentially causing a backlash.
It was some work to not expose our extra abilities, but James' curious glances at Alice followed by increased disappointment hopefully indicated that he would move on, which would have made it more than worth it. However, by the end James' interest in Alice hadn't decreased despite his other emotional alterations, including those made by my efforts. I concluded that his willingness to let whatever connection between the two of them go doubtful.
Laurent seemed to hide behind James' skirts, and his sentiments towards them both were weak in affection, giving the relationship the appearance of being one of convenience, while his feelings of satisfaction were strong. Victoria's feelings towards James were strong to the point of near hero worship.
Despite my manipulations, I doubted the time we had spent together had allowed my attempted changes to take a permanent hold, but for the family's sake hoped it was the last we had seen of them. Fortunately, Edward hadn't even glanced in my direction in curiosity, and his emotions had stayed in the determination range, so I suspected he spent the entire time focused on reading the three while doing nothing that would give his ability away. The chance that I had continued to keep this aspect of my ability from Edward was a lucky break.
When the game ended, polite words of "good game" were exchanged, but nothing more. Fortunately for us all, Carlisle had played his cards far closer to his chest than usual. He and Edward had perfected manners to communicate to each other without words and that appeared innocuous to an outsider. It had taken me almost four decades to catch almost all of them, but I suspected there were still a few lingering outside of my awareness.
At the family meeting later that night Edward divulged that James' thoughts indicated that he was a tracker, Victoria was on constant alert for danger as well as an escape, and Laurent contemplated joining us in order to be protected by an even larger stronger coven, but decided that being on the animal diet wouldn't make it worth his while. Rosalie said that James gave her an unsettled feeling, like he was a predator on the prowl and Victoria was his puppet. When it came to Rosalie's impressions of others I would bet on her over an ability any day. It all added up to us having trouble.
"I can see them more clearly after the game," Alice told us, while quickly adding, "but after they decided to leave, I haven't seen anything more. I'm guessing that they don't live their lives by decisions much, which leaves me blind to their actions."
There was disappointment all around at how limited Alice was, which only indicated how much the family relied on her. It wasn't good or healthy for them or her. This revealed truth concerned me, but remedies were not forthcoming.
Later pulling the two of us out of the house, I confronted Alice about James.
"It was the first time I had met him," she insisted.
Even though there was no deceit in her, I wasn't convinced. "He knew you."
Her eyes widened, and her tone and emotions radiated confusion and anxiousness.
"How is that possible?" she asked with shock and fear erupting with her words, allaying my suspicions for the time being.
Softening my voice, I told her earnest, "From when you were human? He admired you from afar when you were a newborn, but never approached you? I agree that it's strange. He holds Victoria as a toy. If he sees women that way and is interested in you, he could become very dangerous, as he won't take a no."
Shock continued to pour from her, but sadness was added in. After a few minutes she muttered, "I hope he leaves me alone."
"Me too," I agreed.
"I'll do my best to keep an eye on him," she vowed.
"Let me know as soon as you get something," I requested.
She smiled indulgently at me. "Of course."
Later when alone, I replayed the whole thing and determined that Alice's skills in manipulation weren't good enough to circumvent what my ability told me, which was that she had spoken the truth. Although I was relieved, it made the situation more dangerous, as it was possible that he knew things about her that she didn't know about herself and almost certainly that he knew things about her that no one outside of the family knew.
The next night we met up with Sam, who declared himself the Quileute Alpha even though no other wolves came with him, in order to tell him about the visitors, and that we had sent them on their way.
"If they enter our land, they're open game," Sam demanded.
"Naturally," Carlisle agreed, sounding ambivalent, but his emotions indicated that he was hopeful such an event would not come to pass.
In opinion they would have to be idiots to miss the Quileute stench.
It was May when Peter called again, "Step-dad went to tryout for a team, but didn't make it. Guess the injury put him back. He's going to regain his strength and go to another try out that's in three months." Then, he hung up.
It was typical Peter, but I missed our banter from Maria's camp.
June arrived. Emmett, Rosalie, and I graduated. Emmett and Rosalie decided to go travel together until Christmas. I stayed in Forks hidden from view.
Middle of August Peter called once more. "Step-dad made it into something important. Him and the misses are flying off, leaving the girl."
"You staying?" I asked just to keep him on the phone.
"For now," he answered and then ended the call.
I had contemplated going down to see them numerous times. However, each time my train of thought would come round to the reality that Alice would want to go to be near her human. At that thought some sixth sense that I knew to listen to would become unsettled. Thus, over and over again waiting appeared to be the best option. Peter and I had lots of time. There was no need to rush and get into trouble.
A week later Alice got me alone and told me, "Bella might come here for her senior year, but it hasn't been decided." She was full of hopeful anticipation and excitement.
Two days later Alice informed me, disappointed and sad, "She's staying in Phoenix."
That night Peter called and told me, "She convinced her mom to let her stay in the house alone, since she's eighteen." He sighed, which was odd for him, so I waited for him to go on. "She's clumsy. Did you know that? The girl could fall over air when she's nervous. But she has spirit. She held her ground. She's staying." He seemed to shift again, so I waited. "Charlotte wants to find a way to move in with her."
His report of her clumsiness certainly could explain her medical records. If nothing else, I was glad that he had confirmed my hope that she wasn't being harmed by any of the adults in her life.
"And you?" I asked when he said no more.
Peter wouldn't budge if he didn't want, and I learned over the years to tread lightly in order to satiate my curiosity.
"Not officially," he answered, clearly keeping his cards close to his chest.
There was no reason to push him, so I replied, "I trust you and Charlotte absolutely without pause and will hold no fault irrelevant of outcome. This is far more than I was asking."
"Do you know how your pixie and the girl are connected yet?" he questioned.
"No," I told him easily. "Guesses?" I wondered.
"Working on it," he replied.
"Fair enough," I answered. "Thanks again." I hoped in those three words he could hear my appreciation along with my longing.
"Yeah, well, got to do something to pass the time," he joshed and then hung up.
Even if newborns didn't last much more than a year, it was still plenty of enough time for them to attempt to fight their way to the top of the crab barrel. Then, once they found themselves near the top they would set their eyes on toppling either Peter or I, depending on how ambitious they were, which was why having them terrified of me was the easiest way of going about things for me. Peter on the other hand played the good guy to my bad. As a result, only the truly ruthless and devious moutherfuckers took a poke at toppling Peter. He was better in a fight than any of them, so he would end them, set them afire, with a sad shake of his head and a "Man, I tried to warn you."
Maria did not have these problems, at least not anymore. When Lucy and Nettie had been alive, then the three of them were constantly vying against one another, and used the lust of the newborns against one another, which was why eventually Maria decided on me changing the guys and she changing the girls. Since most of them were attracted to the opposite sex, it ended much of the devotion newborns placed on their maker, making the troops easier to control. Maria shared me with Lucy and Nettie back then, while expecting me to be primarily loyal to her. In fairness, she was the most skilled at being a warlord out of the three, so it really hadn't been a contest between them of who would be left standing, at least in my opinion.
Before Peter, when she came into the camp and examined my work with the newborns she would often dole out the punishments, and push them to be fiercer and cleverer. After Peter joined me, she came and observed, but was less involved, except on the days when she was being particularly malicious. Instead, she spent most of her time looking for new territory she wanted to acquire, gaining intelligence on the other warlord's weaknesses, to increase our changes of success, and bringing back either sustenance to keep in the corral or those to become newborns.
Peter's blond was the kind of newborn that was ideal for our wars. She had adjusted to her new life fairly easily and once she and Peter enjoyed each other's company regularly had become even more determined to prove herself. Her doing so made my job easier, but since she was a crab, also meant she needed watching to determine how ambitious she might be. After a few more weeks of observing her, including with my ability, it seemed like she was simply a survivor, not an ambitious one, but a 'you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone' kind. They were my favourite type of newborn.
Still weary for the trouble Maria had asked me to keep an eye on, and having seen none, I checked with Peter, "Have you said anything beyond the usual to your new flavour?"
"No," he answered seriously, "you know I wouldn't."
"I haven't seen Maria's concerns," I told him, "just checking."
His emotions were a little proud. "She's decent, right?"
"Yeah," I agreed tentatively, "we'll see how she does on the field. It's about three months since we took that bit from Carlos. Maria's itching again."
"Well, the newest batch are as close to ready as they can be," he offered.
"Agreed. I'll let Maria know when she next gets back."
Maria must have been overly confident due to our win against Carlos, or purposefully looking for a reason to discipline me, because she went for another part of his territory, only this time he was ready for us. As he defended the land from the front, he sent another team behind us. Surrounded on all sides, Carlos himself fought against Maria. The little of the fight I observed, neither had seemed to be able to find purchase with the other.
Carlos had chosen to have little discipline in his ranks, but swelled them with numbers to over three of his to one of ours. They took down each other as much as they did us, but after an hour over half of our ranks were in pieces and they still were at two to our one.
At the start of the battle I had called out one of the formations we drilled into them. Given the odds against us, I had placed us in ever larger circles with Peter and I in the centre, moving outward oldest to newest, making the newest recruits on the outermost circle. The only reason Maria wasn't dead centre was because Carlos had used the last battle to see how we closed ranks around Maria and was able to grab her and start fighting her before I even called out a formation. Peter and I kept our back to each other and ended any that came near us. However, even for us the sheer numbers meant that both Peter and I had fresh bites and our arm sockets were slightly torn by the end of the first hour. It showed our skills that neither of us had lost any parts. Fighting while hurt was one of the ways we trained, so it didn't have too great an impact, but it did slow us down some.
By the end of the second hour I saw in my periphery that Maria had been able to remove one of Carlos' ears and a finger. Her clothes were ripped, but she appeared otherwise uninjured. Out of the newest batch only six remained, one of which was Peter's blond, the six month ones had almost one third of what we had taken to the field, the nine months had almost half, and the ones near their year mark had three of the eleven we had brought, but then their strength was waning.
"One circle," I rang out.
Obediently everyone that remained became a circle while still fighting, keeping Peter and I in the centre. I was proud of them. After that point the injuries became less and we only lost three more before none of Carlos' army attacked us.
"Attention," I shouted, and they moved into a line obeying to perfection.
Maria and Carlos could be heard still fighting in the distance.
"In pairs of two, separate friend from foe," I ordered, "and find any of your missing pieces".
They got to work while Peter and I made determinations. Maria's rules were that if a newborn was in pieces and in the nine month group or older they were burnt, while the six month and three month groups would be fixed, but only if every part was found.
Of the thirty-three found only seven met the criteria. We burnt the enemy and bowed our heads while we burnt the parts of our fallen. Maria still wasn't back, so I picked a village that would feed and heal us, and set them loose. I found an elderly male living alone. When there wasn't any blood left in the village we burnt it to the ground and then marched back to camp.
"Enjoy yourselves for a few hours," I told the troops, "you did real well tonight."
Most of them radiated being pleased at my words and proud of themselves.
Since there still was no sign of Maria, Peter and I went to his quarters.
"How bad are you?" he asked as soon as we entered.
"You first," I told him, insistent.
He removed all his clothes and I proceeded to suck the venom out of his bites and ensure his tears were healing properly. I was kneeling on the ground checking his legs when the blond's scent came from under the door, and then it opened. She wasn't allowed near our quarters, let alone to open a closed door. Both were offenses deserving of severe discipline.
She looked at Peter, at me, back to Peter, and then took a step back, and closed the door, radiating disbelief and confusion.
Looking up at Peter seriously, I commanded him, seeing that it was his fault for her believing to have such allowances, "You make sure the discipline would meet Maria's approval, and that she doesn't become a problem. Even a whiff of it in the ranks and you will end her."
"Yes, sir," he answered with strength, his emotions sad, but resolved.
"Good," I affirmed.
Immediately he dressed, even though not all of the wounds were clean and none of mine were.
"Going to ensure there's no problem, sir?" he asked submissively.
"Yes," I affirmed. "After come to my quarters. We can finish then," I ordered.
"Yes, Major."
Rather than going to my quarters directly, I ghosted around the camp roofs listening in to the soft conversations and sex exchanges happening, one between three girls, which tickled me, their feelings a delightful reprieve, and for a brief moment I was glad for them finding comfort in each other. There was nothing concerning in the conversations. I didn't come across Peter and Charlotte until right before heading towards my quarters. I could see them alone near the pit with Peter's face showing anger and Charlotte's remorse.
With still no scent or sense of Maria, I returned to my quarters. Laying down with my hands behind my back, in an almost automatic way, as if my body remembered something my mind did not, I tried to decide my preferred approach of ending the two one years that had survived the battle. If it were up to me, I would keep them till the next battle, but Maria overrode me every time. I didn't want them ended by my own hands. My preference was for them to die honourably in battle. Not to mention that I believed it to be a waste of good resources. It was the sourest part of my job, and one I resented every time Maria ordered it. Maybe I could use them as an object lesson in some way, so at least their deaths served a purpose.
When Peter's scent at the door followed by his knock interrupted me, I moved to sit at the edge of the cot.
"Enter," I permitted.
Once the door was closed he stood at ease with his neck bare to me, offering himself to my discipline.
"Report," I commanded.
"Sorted," he answered with strength, his emotions emitting confidence, conviction, and assurance.
"It better be," I growled at him.
He dropped to his knees and on all fours moving towards me keeping his neck bare, he told me, "I take full responsibility."
Growling in warning, I told him with absolute steel, "I will decimate every creature that moves in this camp before anything that nears the truth could be whispered in the wind."
Terror of me that I hadn't felt from Peter since he was a newborn emerged. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe he had forgotten his place. I was his Master, as Maria was mine. I took on some of that responsibility. Perhaps I had allowed him too much leeway. Hopefully this was the trouble Maria had sensed, and I had nipped it in the bud.
"I'm not Maria," I reminded him, "I do not take pleasure in disciplining and keeping order in the ranks. Nevertheless, as your Master and commanding officer it is my role to do so."
His emotions gave off acceptance, regret, and contrition.
"Take down your pants," I ordered.
He did so immediately and moved himself so I could easily gain entrance.
Sending him my sorrow, I nonetheless reminded him whom he served, in the ways Maria had trained me, including biting him in a similar fashion that Maria had me when she needed to teach me a lesson. We stayed connected with my teeth in his flesh until his emotions indicated complete surrender. Only after that point did I allow my own release, which gratefully also gave me the internal stillness only Peter had ever been able to offer me. Even if I didn't like Maria's methods, they were effective. Afterwards, I finished tending to his bites and then he cleaned out mine. Thought it all I sent him a mixture of feelings, which I hoped he knew meant that my words were spoken in truthfulness. We would both be toast if he didn't heed me completely.
It was one of the few times in my life when looking back I was glad that I had been wrong. Charlotte had been far more trouble than that, and in the end it had saved us three.