I smell them before I even hear them. Ephraim Black's blood. They sound like a hivemind of incoherent thought and smell worse than a zoo. If I could wretch, I would. It's been years since we first smelled them, but it's an experience I've never forgotten. With Albion and his coven so close by, it was only a matter of time. I'm just surprised it's taken them a month.
Emmett, Rosalie, Carlisle, and Esme have been doing their best to head off Albion's coven by making our family's appearance known around their hunting grounds, but it's an exhausting effort. Eight humans have died in the last month alone. The worst part is that since Alice, Jasper, and I are now "seniors" at Forks High, Carlisle wants us to keep up appearances. It's a ridiculous notion that keeps half of us from helping, but I'm tired of arguing with him. It's not as if the three of us can even pretend to focus when at least two of our family are in danger at all times. It's only now that I see the wisdom in Carlisle's plan. He needed at least half of us here just in case La Push came calling.
"We've got company," Emmett says, smiling with his fangs bared. Alice is standing as still as a statue in the living room, hand posed on my piano. If a human walked in right now, they could easily mistake her for a decorative work of art. Inside, her mind is scrambling. She knew they were coming-Carlisle had hinted as much, even if I had been too lost in my head to see it-but she didn't see when.
"Why?" she says more to the air than to me.
"We can worry about that later. Let's first deal with the dogs," I say, following Emmett out to the perimeter of our property. Carlisle and Esme are in Seattle to head off another one of Albion's hunts, which means the only level-headed person here to deal with this is me. Emmett's riled up with the thought of a fight, Rosalie's too hot-headed, Jasper's unpredictable, and Alice is still shell-shocked from being blindsided.
The scent that accompanies them as they arrive is vile. It's not the hive mind that comes bounding out of the woods, but eight distinct patterns of thought. They've shifted back into people. It would almost be a relief if it wasn't Black's blood I was dealing with. The mental strain of juggling eight minds in one is one that I don't care to repeat. The big one upfront is Sam Uley, the supposed leader of this pack of beasts.
Jasper's fangs are out before they even leave the forest border.
"Easy," I say, though I'm biting back a snarl. What is it about these animals that brings out the worst in us?
"We're here to see Carlisle Cullen, Cold One," Sam says, barely containing himself. He wants to rip us to shreds. It's in his blood and it's all he can think about. It's all any of them can think about, though our side isn't any better.
"Carlisle isn't home. Can I take a message?" I ask, hating that every time I talk, I feel like I'm licking a wet dog. It must have come out snarkier than intended since Sam snarls. "I can see Black sent his lackey to do the talking," I say, knowing that this will sting. Beneath the layers of primal bloodlust, Sam is insecure because this is the first time the true heir of Ephraim Black has joined their little posse. He's in the far back, a giant amongst the rest of them. Jacob. My comment has rattled him as much as it has Sam. It's the exact effect I was going for.
"I'm the leader of his pack," Sam says, brushing off my comment after a moment's hesitation. "We've come to discuss your actions and their consequences."
I grin, unable to help myself. A single word to Jasper and my adoptive brother has already worked his magic. Rosalie and Alice look almost tranquil and, for once, Emmett even appears to be tame. On the other hand, the wolves are absolutely unhinged. It's too bad I'm about to make it worse. Carlisle is handling this situation. The last thing we need is for La Push to interfere and draw even more attention from the Voltaire.
"We'll only discuss with the true heir of the contract." I lean slightly to the left to get a better view of him for effect. "Jacob, is it?" The rest of the pack turns to stare at the boy. It's clear that of the eight, only Sam and the one called Quil know of the true legacy of this pack.
Hesitantly, Jacob steps forward, his eyes suspicious.
"That's better," I say, fully stepping into this role now. It's a pity our kind lives in the shadows. Perhaps I could have been an actor. "Now, tell me exactly why you've come."
Jacob looks to Sam, asking for permission and with a begrudging nod, Sam agrees. It's all very cordial. Or it would be if Sam wasn't cursing himself for not telling Jake sooner.
Jacob Black is a head taller than me with the features of someone who is playing an adolescent on a TV show. He's not bad looking for a dog. Some humans might even call him handsome. Or he would be if it weren't for the terrible scent surrounding him. Even so, he's the only one of the pack not actively thinking of killing me so that has to count for something.
"More and more of our sons are changing. What part of the pact between our people and the Cold Ones have you broken?" There's a fear there. Worry for his people, yes, but there's something deeper. There's a reason he doesn't seem to mind as much as the others. Greater than his fear of us is the fear of being alone. His pack has given him something that he didn't have before. It's so reminiscent of my own thoughts towards my family that I almost forget that I'm listening to the thoughts of a literal beast.
"Bold of you to assume that we're the ones that broke it," I try.
"Bold of you to assume that I won't rip your face off the next time it doesn't give me a straight answer, leech." And there it is. Vulgar as the rest, though the comment is at odds with his thoughts that keep drifting to the safety of his pack, the irresistible...charms of Alice and Rosalie, and how long they have to smell us before going back to Sam's house where a warm meal awaits them.
"No need to get violent," I say, though I know my family is itching for it. "It's not us. There's a new coven south of Seattle. Seven of them that hunt humans like they're animals. And who knows? They could even be making more." A few of the mongrels gnash their teeth at this simple truth. "Carlisle has been trying to prevent their damage, but there's only so much we can do without attracting some unwarranted attention."
"And as always, leeches look after their own interests." There's venom in his words now that they know that people have been dying. What a simple way to view the world. Carlisle would like this boy, just as he liked his great-grandfather.
"If you knew anything at all about our family, you'd know that we don't hunt people. If anything, I'd say that's pretty selfless." I almost laugh at my own joke. Recent events have distracted me from my own self-loathing, but it hasn't gone away for decades and it sure isn't about to fade now. Killing people for food and betraying the only person who ever really loved you after you became a monster will do that to a man, no matter how old the crime.
"So what? You just can't handle your own kind?" another beast chimes in. Paul, the third in command.
"Watch it, dog," Emmett says, though there's no bite behind the comment. I remind myself to thank Jasper a million times over.
I'm about to say something witty back when Alice sends me a thought. I glare at her, but she is unmoved. It's an idea. A bad one, but an idea that would alleviate the pressure on us. It may even keep some of us out of danger. That's better than this exhausting cycle.
"We can, but it would go a bit faster if we had some help," I say. The onslaught of displeasure at the thought from both sides that follows is enough to give me a headache.
Despite my earlier comments, it's Sam that steps forward with a white flag. "What do you have in mind?"
"Another pact," Alice says, moving to my side. For such a small girl, her presence is always powerful. Her and Jasper have always had that in common. "You help us protect our territory and we make sure this never happens again."
"It wasn't supposed to happen this time. You've already let down your side of the bargain," Sam says, his eyes flashing with disapproval.
"No, but this was out of our control. We didn't expect any coven to approach lands this close to our home. We won't make that mistake again. Carlisle has kept them under constant surveillance. If we have help, we can pick them off one by one when they leave to hunt." Leave it to Alice to find a peaceful approach. There's something about the matter-of-fact way that she says it that seems to put the other side at ease. Even so, doubt lingers.
"How do we know they won't join the murderers? After all, leeches are leeches are leeches," Paul asks Sam.
"We'll pair off," Sam says, eyeing Jacob nervously. If the true heir to Black's legacy protests, it could mean an all-out brawl instead of another pact, but if Jacob has any desire to be pack leader, he's barely thought about it. The chorus of protesting that occurs just worsens my headache.
"I don't see the need for that," Rosalie says. I agree with her, but I would never tell her that.
Half of the pack is trying to work their way around the cognitive dissonance in their brain that tells them that someone so incredibly beautiful could be absolutely deadly. Half of them have already failed. Rosalie may hate it, but beauty is a powerful motivator.
"I'm with the leech," Paul says.
"If you don't trust us, that's the only way for us to root them out without you doubting us," Alice explains. "And after that, we'll never have to see each other again."
"Or smell each other again," Emmett added, helpfully.
"Do we have a deal?" I ask.
"We have a deal," Sam answers.
"I didn't ask you," I said, pointedly turning to Jacob. The worry and jealousy that stabs through Sam almost as blinding as the uncertainty in Jacob.
He swallows, keenly aware of the eyes of his pack on him. "Deal."
If we have to work with them, it doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with it. After all, who doesn't love a good dog fight?