A/N: Omg, guys, it's spring break! (Whoop, whoop) I still have work and a bunch of school work to catch up on, but I thought it would be cool to do an ask-the-author interlude. Where y'all leave a review with questions about whatever: the process of writing this story, character motivation, that sort of thing. You guys can go as deep as you'd like, from where I got the inspiration to write this story from to why did Eliza not know about the wolves before she found out about vampires.
Eliza walked, her fingers intertwined with her sister's, as if touching her alone would protect her from everything around them. She was not sure if she needed to laugh, or cry, or both. Either way, Eliza had made sure to remember the path they came from this time, retracing her steps back into the city, the night buzzing with excitement. It struck her then that it was Saturday night, people out celebrating one event or another, perhaps just the fact that they were alive.
Tory tried to speak to her, but she did not respond. Eliza simply let the sound of her own footsteps lead her forward, towards a little hole in the wall bar a few minutes walk from the castle, cast in it's shadow. The man tending bar spoken little, broken English, so she did her best to order something sweet and strong in Italian, leading to a bottle of cherry wine being placed before her. Eliza fished a bill from her wallet, but the man waved her money away, glancing behind her. Demetri had sat by the corner, a perfect view of the exits and entrances, he simply raised a palm, twiddling his fingers at her. Eliza frowned, pressing the money onto the bar, replacing where the bottle of wine had rested, insisting. She refused to take the currency back, smiling softly at the elder bar keep.
Eliza sat down next to Demetri, while Tory put as much distance between herself and him as she could, placing two wine glasses on the beat up table. Eliza poured heavily, swirling the pinkish red liquid in her glass before raising it to a toast. "To saying 'fuck this shit." The wine was gone in two long pulls, Tory sips hers and smiles.
"Fuck this shit." Tory repeats, pointing her glass at Demetri. "So are you going to be my sister's shadow now?"
"She's upset. You think they would let her wander the city alone while she is level headed?" Demetri shoots back, crossing his legs at the ankles. He's relaxed, as if he had been there before, in that same seat. He shakes his head as Eliza ignores them both, refilling her glass. Though in the back of her mind, she recalls Demetri appearing at the moment she needed him and he had just confirmed what she had wondered: he followed her.
"I know it's beer before liquor, get drunk quicker, but what about wine? Like, if I drink this and then enough whiskey to get a boar drunk, will I puke?" Eliza muses, shooting back the wine. Her mother had warned her about drinking away her problems, that a band aide doesn't fix a bullet wound, but she could try, she had been trying since Sam's 'death'.
"Liza, if you drink that bottle of wine by yourself with no food, you'll throw up. Period." Tory deadpanned, frisking the bottle from her elder sister and refilling her cup before placing it outside of Eliza's reach.
Demitri, as if it were his cue, rises and speaks perfect Italian to the barkeep, who while nervous, points towards a little cafe across the road. Demetri speaks again and a bottle of whiskey is passed across the bar. He nods, thanking the man before returning to his seat. "So you're getting drunk?" The vampire asks as if the answer is obvious, which it is, as Eliza's face is flushed and her lips are becoming looser.
"So...are you Russian, or is Demetri just a name your mom liked?" The question had been itching at the back of Eliza's mind, though it made Tory burst into a fit of giggles. Eliza grinned, taking the bottle from Demetri and filling Tory's glass before Tory takes it from her. Victorya refills her sister's glass, despite just telling her she needed to slow down on her drinking, they share a look and laugh.
"My father was Russian." He acknowledges, nodding slightly. It's like he has to remember to move, to fidget. "Did your mother purposely name you both after queens?"
For the first time, Tory grins, "My grandmother's name on my dad's side was Victorya, same spelling. Lizzie just got lucky."
"Don't call me that." Eliza sniffed, of all the abbreviations of her name, she hated that one. "My mom is a history buff, she liked royals. Our brother, Louis, was named after the string of French Kings."
"We should call him." Tory mused, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She twirls the strand around her finger, thinking over everything. "Louis is the rational sibling, after all. Our beloved superego." The sisters laughed, he hated when they called him that.
"I bet he'll bitch about time it is in Washington." Eliza replied. Demitri smirked, noting that his queen cursed more when she had been drinking.
"Nah, he'll complain that we're drunk." Tory shot back, draining her glass before her sister could argue with her. "I say we finish the bottle and then call him."
Demitri sits deathly still, letting the two interact, cementing their mental imprints into his brain, just in case his kings ever asked him to track either of the two women. The two giggle and banter, sharp tongues clashing and dancing. They move with similar mannerisms as the alcohol takes effect. Eliza's laughter turns to giggles, light and airy, Tory leans against her sister's shoulder, sharing in the moment.
Eliza glanced about, her eyes darkening as the haze of kinship recedes, the truth hanging over her. She walks to the bar keep on wobbling legs and pantomimes her way into a handful of shot glasses. Returning with them in her hands, she places them in a long row before her, filling them two-thirds of the way with the bottle of whiskey Demetri had taken. "It just occurred to me, Tor, we've had a hell of a two weeks. Sam died." Eliza ends the sentence sarcastically, taking a shot, "I find out I'm supposed to be with three dudes for eternity." She takes another shot, "Three really, really hot dudes, who are like, thousands of years old." Shot. "But then Sam's alive, like, surprise mother fucker!" Shot. "So now, I have three…" Eliza pauses, making sure to whisper, though it is louder than she thinks, "fucking vampires, who act like I'm the Christine to their Phantom, the Benson to their Stabler, the Goldie Hawn to their Kurt Russell, the, the…" For a moment she wants to cry, so she downs another shot so the burn will move to her throat and she can control it. Her fingers move towards the final shot, but Demetri stops her, his hand hovering over her, not daring to touch her skin, but his eyes are soft.
Tory envelops her in a hug before she can think, squeezing her tightly in her grasp. Boneless, she sags against her younger sibling. "I love you, Eliza." Tory's voice is sure, certain and iron clad. No matter what the word thought, she would make sure Eliza was happy, she decided that right there and then.
"I love you too, Tor." Eliza replies through the curtain of her sister's hair. She breathes deeply, as if remembering the smell of Tory's shampoo would bring her comfort one day. She ponders that vampires have perfect memories, it makes her wonder if any of the kings bothered to cement her to memory, a purposeful thing despite the lack of need. Eliza smiles as a strand of ebony tickles her nose, Tory kept her hair at shoulder length, thick and wavy, genuine and untamed. She tells herself she will never forget the way Tory looked, the way her little sister always tried to act like the hero instead of the younger sibling, her stiff upper lip and her fierce expression.
When they part, Eliza laughs in an attempt to salvage the night, leaning over and hugging Demetri as well, who simply stiffens and remains immobile despite Eliza's arms around him. "You're pretty chill too, Demi." His eyes widen in surprise and she laughs before leaning back in her chair and thinking aloud, "I'm hungry." She searches her memory, realizing she had just downed a large volume of alcohol on an empty stomach. When had she last ate? That awful coffee, a nibble of toast that her sister insisted she eat?
"Come on girls, dinner is on me." Demetri informs, offering each of them a hand to stand up with, but only Eliza takes him up on the offer. When she sways a bit, he wraps an arm around her waist, careful to place it in a modest spot. He has no desire to be punished for inappropriate touching, nor does he wish to be punished for allowing the queen to come to harm's way.
They walk out the door and head south, in the direction the bar keep had directed Demetri before. It's not until Eliza is ripping a loaf of bread in half after having received it with their food that she realizes Victorya has the bottle of Whiskey next to her on the seat. She laughs drunkenly as Demetri chides her to eat more of the bread.
Tory teases that they can drink after they eat, so both dig in as Demetri watches. Eliza finds it strange that vampires don't eat human food in general, having no need nor taste for it. She holds her tongue on the matter and finishes her food, a pasta dish that had the best sauce she had ever tasted.
When they loop back out into the streets, Eliza steals a swig from the bottle of whiskey and then frisks her phone from her pocket. Louis answers on the second ring, a disgruntled, "Hello?" Echoing over the phone.
"Loooooo-eeeeeyyyy" The sisters slur in unison before breaking into giggles. Louis sighs, but there's a smile on the other end of the line.
"You're drunk and it's six am over here, so I take it you both are having fun?" Louis grins through the phone, there's a clatter on his end, like he's pouring a cup of coffee.
"Sooo much fun." Tory replies, "Liza even met a couple guys!" Eliza turns red, she snatches the phone from her sister and glares at her hotly.
"Tory thinks I'm a flirt just because I'm polite." Demetri raises an eyebrow at her words, listening in carefully. Eliza huffs into the receiver, "She wouldn't know flirting from manners, because she doesn't do well with either."
"Either way, Eliza, you sound brighter than I've heard in a few weeks. Italy sounds like it's been good to you." Louis replies. A voice calls out in the background, saying his name, he twists the phone from his mouth, "Yeah Dad, I'll be right there."
"I won't keep you, Lou. Have fun at work." Tor breaks in, laughing as Eliza passes her the bottle, "We'll have to come visit Eliza, if she decides to stay." There's a weight in her voice, she still hasn't decided what to do. She wants Eliza to be happy, but Tory cannot frame her sister's happiness without their family. Could she give up Seth for Eliza and Louis? Her heart broke at the thought, a piece of her whispering that she would, so what would keep Eliza from three perfect mates instead of just one? Tor takes a long pull from the bottle, letting Eliza finish the phone call with their brother.
"Yeah, Lou, I miss you too. I promised Tor I would come home for Christmas...haha, of course, Nana would never forgive me if I didn't help her make cookies for Santa." They share a laugh, both Tory and Demetri noting the same airy laughter coming from both ends of the line.
"Nana insisted Eliza keep up the whole 'Santa is real' thing because she was the eldest, but once all the grandkids got older, it became a running joke that our grandma had a thing for Father Christmas, that's why she still makes cookies every year." Tory whispered to Demetri as Eliza put her phone back in her pocket. Demetri looks at her with suspicion, was he aware of her intent? The idea was a long shot, but perhaps the close knit family Eliza was a part of would convince her to stay with them, not allow her to be wooed by immortals.
"So we both win." Eliza teases, her fist connecting with Tory's arm playfully. "Louis commented on both our sobriety and the time." People pass them in the street, some stumbling and others laughing, the city is so alive. Eliza is slowly falling in love with Italy, with the feel of it.
The trio spend the evening laughing, joking and talking. Tory seemed to almost trust Demetri by the end of it, allowing him to help each of them walk when leaning upon one another almost leads to a tumble. When Demetri is finally able to escort them back into the castle, he and his drunken companions are greeted by the three kings and the Cullen Coven in it's completion. Jacob bursts into a great, big laugh at the sight of them. He takes Tory, picking her up as she laughs.
"Promise you won't tell Seth, kay?" She slurs into Jacob's shoulder as the world spins around her. "I'm ready for bed, Lizzie goes too hard. I blame that arts college she went to!"
Elizabeth leans against Demetri, putting most of her weight on him, though he seemed nonchalant about the fact. "When someone starts singing 'Whiskey Girl', you drink whiskey, duhhhh." They had run into other Americans, newly weds on their honeymoon from California, which turned into a battle of drinking songs. No one was impressed when Eliza starting singing, "Raise a glass to freedom…" then called the group uncultured swine when they did not recognize the tune from Hamilton.
"Even drunk, her thoughts are so loud." Edward sniffs, crossing his arms as Eliza glares at him. 'Fuuuuck you.' He glares at her in return, confirming that he was speaking about her. The vampire must be several years older than her, Eliza assumes, but to her he looks like an angst-filled teen, upset about her lack of propriety.
The three kings move towards her, flanking around her in a protective half circle as the Cullens watch, mystified that the kings of vampires would protect a human so fiercely. "Woah." Emmett whispers, mainly to his own mate, who shares his expression.
Eliza reaches out her hands like a child, remembering what Caius had told her, she curled up against his chest, resting her forehead against his unbeating heart. "I'm sleeping with you tonight, right?" Her words slur more than she realizes they would, causing her to blush.
"Freshman year at Uni they called her 'Lightweight Lizzie,' girl could smoke weed like a chimney, but put some alcohol in her and.." Sam smiles like it's a funny story, but Eliza turns murderous upon hearing her voice, but surprisingly it is Tory who lashes out.
"Yeah, well, my sister was never much of a drinker until the woman she was supposed to marry faked her death to get with some skank!" Jacob spins Tory away from the rest of the group, he is much stronger but she squirms like an unruly toddler. Sam's face is hard as she clutches her mate's hand, keeping her where she is.
"What a lovely welcome party…" Jacob huffs as Tory finally stills in his arms, mostly because the room has begun to spin in her eyes. He glances around at the tension in the room, noticing how Renesmee is partially blocked by Bella from Eliza's view, as if she were a threat to her daughter. He frowns before continuing to speak, "I'm going to put Tor to bed, I'll talk to you over a strong cup of coffee for your hangover, okay Liz?" Jake has a lot to think about, specifically at all he had seen in the past few minutes alone. He was expecting to walk into a war zone, not a cat fight. He takes the younger girl towards the room that had been set aside for her, exiting with a grin thrown at his imprint.
Through the alcohol induced haze, Eliza smiles brightly. Jake and Tory were the same age and though they were thick as thieves, and though they were not as close, Eliza still loved her cousin and kept in touch with him. "Sounds good to me." Jake exits quietly, Tory half asleep, exhausted from the day and the fight she had put up moments before. There's something about being out in the open with everything, the weight of Eliza's guilt lifting to be replaced by anger. It was an adjustment that sent her reeling, the pull of the mate bond promising a relief that under the influence of alcohol seemed extra appealing. She inhales deeply into Caius's cloak, he smells like freshly burnt wood and Eliza relaxes into his arms, though it takes her slightly off guard when he scoops her into his arms.
"We will continue this conversation later." There is a threat and a promise in his words as he begins to carry his mate out of the room.
"That girl is walking Fuku." Lora whispers, a frown pulling at her lips, but Eliza smiles. So Lora was Dominican, pieces fell into place.
Eliza places a finger against her cheek, giggling before whispering to Caius—though all vampires can hear her with their damn super hearing—"But I have a face." Aro laughs, a giggle bursting from her that makes Eliza happier than she had been in a nice, long while. He understood her reference, though Caius did not.
"I told you to read Junot Diaz, brother." Marcus chides, pleased that their mate is well read. He clasps his hands together before flitting to the door to open it for Caius as he carries their mate outside, her head resting against Caius's chest, eyes drooping. "Sleep well, Piccola."
The echo of the heavy door breaks the silence in the room, Aro smiles ferally before gliding to his throne. "Well, let us discuss."