Okay, I know that I left this story to dry and rot for a bit, all right, more than a bit, but I can totally explain. I was a lazy, sad pathetic excuse for a fanfic author. There. I said it. So don't come banging down my door, or throwing pig's blood at it, 'cause the next chapter's finally up, and it's pretty long, which was why I took a hell of a time writing it. And in answer to XxSarcasmIsMyWeaponxX's question: Do the Fae in this story have wings? Well, some of them do, others don't. If you've read Meredith Gentry by Laurell K Hamilton, you'd know. I base them slightly on the sidhe, but not entirely. There are elves, goblins, sirens, the works. So yeah. Thanks for all the smashing reviews, they really encouraged me to continue with this fic at the expense of future use of my fingers. And now, without further a due, here's Chapter 2.

Disclaimer: Twilight, respective quotes and phrases, belong to Stephenie Meyer, and respective novelists.

Chapter 2: THE CONFRONTATION

"Where are they? Hey, pops, you're sure you heard right? We've been waiting for ages, and I don't see a single thing! Not a single thing! Don't they know to keep on schedule? I can't believe it! They're heartless bastards, and they're late!"

Edward groaned in frustration, suppressing the urge to knock his little brother out cold. No one had bothered to mention that these dogs were as annoyingly whiney as they were vicious; a mere moment with them could drive him insane. "We've been waiting here for approximately thirteen minutes twenty-seven seconds and counting, which I would not consider as 'ages' in the very least, and would consider 'a short while' at the very most. Aside from that, why don't you send them an invitation if you want them on time?"

"Har-de-har-har." Jacob mumbled, but finally –yes, finally– to Edward's relief, shut up. Unfortunately the comfortable silence, of which he could really get used to, lasted no more than a minute, as Jacob soon ranted and raved a long stream of complaints like the irritating rabid dog he was. Then, after what had to be the worst moments of his life, his yowling pup of a brother declared a sore throat and –to his amazement– fell silent. Edward could have almost broken into a victory dance, almost.

"Holy shit!" Sore throat mysteriously and magically gone, Jacob gave a harsh whisper that had Edward cringing in horror, thinking thoughts ranging from the exacerbated 'What now?' to the exasperated 'Why me?"

"They're here! They're here!"

"You would have thought they were honored guests at a reception."

Jacob, the child he was, childishly stuck out his tongue, not quite caring how ridiculous he appeared, and Edward, in response, gave everyone, including himself, a surprise, by cracking a grin at the absurdity of his situation.

"Christ! You actually do smile! I'd thought you were like a moving piece of rock, but you actually have a sense of humor!"

"Zip that godforsaken mouth of yours, less we alert them."

Jacob snorted at his choice of words, but was clearly disgruntled by the fact that the moving piece of rock had more sense than he did, Edward, close to another smile, caught himself in time to remain impassive. Whatever amusement he found in his little brother was most unexpected.

An indistinct chatter came to his attention, and Edward instinctively shifted his focus to the rowdy approaching party. The Fae, oh how that single thought raised his hair and hackles all but at the same time. He loathed and despised them, yet feared them so, and loathed and despised them for that very reason, the very army that destroyed their troops and broke their faith. They were monsters –fiends, whatever it was– they were cruel, sadistic beasts, horrible vile creatures… who strolled leisurely, picking their way though the foliage , and laughed and joked and munched on tidbits carried in hand baskets.

"Them? Those children are The Fae?" Edward asked in disbelief.

Billy, looking as if he shared his sentiments exactly, could only shrug, "We should never judge a book by its cover."

"But they're puny weaklings!" that blatant insult came from Jacob, who was, after all, a child himself.

"Perhaps," Elizabeth continued mildly, "these are the offspring of those the lot of you so detest. They have yet to be tainted with their ancestors' dark teachings. We could hold one hostage or as Edward here suggested, capture one to access their physical flaws and abilities."

Billy smiled, "Nicely put."

Edward did nothing but stare fixedly at the cheerful group. Was it morally right to punish them for their elders' mistakes? Why were they to suffer for mistakes not their own? For all he knew, they were innocent lambs to the slaughter. Then again, these children could be the very ones who decimated his friends, his comrade-in-arms, and… his father. As Billy had proclaimed, looks can certainly be deceiving.

"Erm… Edward dear? Edward?"

He snapped out of it, to see his mother waving her hand in his face, trying to claim his attention. "Is anything the matter, mother?"

"Billy thought that it would be nice for you to lead the attack, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I remember oh so vividly how you'd plead your father for a chance of that. 'Just imagine the glory!' You'd tell me; but you haven't had your chance, have you? Go ahead, and give it a shot. It's your big moment now!"

Elizabeth looked so terribly pleased and happy for him, that Edward, the loyal son he was, with filial piety do deeply ingrained into his upbringing, didn't have the heart to say 'no', to tell her that the act meant nothing to him now and what had mattered most then was his father's pride to have him as a son. So he simply banished his memories of the beloved Edward senior and said rather stoically, "It is an honor."

With that, Edward led the eager lycanthropes towards their blissfully unaware, utterly helpless prey, and as his heart soared out to them, the only coherent thought in his mind was 'Run. Don't let us catch you. Run.'

The littlest one was the first to spot them. She was a perfectly crafted porcelain doll, with glittering eyes, a dainty nose, and lips painted a sweet pink, curved in an 'O' as she shrieked their arrival. The party scattered, and Edward had to admit, most of his kind, as quick as they were, could not compare to the speed of these light-footed creatures.

"Dammit! Go, Alice! Don't just stand there! Go!"

Edward's eyes found the doll, eyes wide as a leopard lazily stalked her. His heart clenched in fear. She was a mere child, like the petite ballerina figurines his mother kept on the display shelf, how was she to face the brute animal? The leopard lunged, and Edward closed his eyes, torn between his rationality and some basic instinct to protect the weak. Just then, a sharp imitation of an explosion filled his senses, sparing him the decision as the large beast fell in a heap. What in the world happened?

"Bella! Thank god! I thought I was going to be cat food for sure! Any spares?"

A hooded figure approached the doll. This one was different, unlike the little one's fragility, Bella, as she –he assumed it was a 'she'– had been addressed, was tall and lean, her body was trim, with the decisive movements that made her more predator than prey. He saw in her the mark of a soldier, the cold streak of ruthlessness he found in himself. This Bella had a certain level of potential.

"What were you thinking? You were just standing there! God, it's like you're holding this giant, bright, and flashy neon sign saying 'Eat me'. I told you something like this would happen. I told you. I told you." Bella admonished, and Edward grinned inwardly.

"But Bella," the doll –Alice(?)– protested, "You said no sudden movements around wild animals! That was a wild animal!"

"That was not a wild animal! That was a were-animal!"

"Erm… Rule Number Three, should we meet up with a were-animal, shoot its head off with a gun?"

"And if you don't have a gun on you?"

"Run?"

"Bingo!"

Edward chuckled softly, Bella would be the one, if the lycanthropes so desperately needed a prisoner, he wanted it to be Bella, she would most definitely be something to study, a fine specimen to observe. He wanted to learn more about her, no, he wanted to learn everything about her.

"Give it a rest Bella," Alice pouted, crossing her slim, barely muscled arms, "Wild animals, were-animals, what's the difference? They're all just big pussy cats. Or dogs. Besides, I saw this coming; I knew you'd save me… Oh. Shit."

The doll's eyes widened, staring up at her shaking figure, looking as if she had let slip something she absolutely shouldn't have. Bella, with her back to him, appeared to be at a loss for words, and when she finally found them, they were, "Mary Alice Brandon!"

Alice winced noticeably, and Edward figured Bella's expression must have been beyond furious, bordering on murderous. She hissed, her voice low and menacing, which sort of aroused him in an animalistic carnal way, but that was absurd and obscene. A man of his status, Edward had always been neither; however, he was completely helpless to do anything about his terribly enthusiastic response or massive erection. It was most disturbing, and thinking of a freezing cold shower didn't seem to help his cause either. In fact, his mind was wandering to several possibilities of sex and cold showers, impossible possibilities of sex and cold showers. Perhaps the Fey creatures were not the children he thought them to be, Bella certain wasn't. She was all woman, at least he hoped she was, it would be extremely disconcerting to discover she was male, and he was gay, or she was a child, and that'd make him a pedophile.

"I can't believe it1 You deliberately kept this from me! And don't try to blow this off, our lives are at stake here. A little warning next time? A head's up? A hey-we're-soon-uder-attack-by-gian-morons-with-sharp-teeth-and-big-appetites?"

"Hey, cuz," Alice interjected, not in the least intimidated by her hysterical best friend, "Are you expecting a 'next time'?"

Bella threw up her hands, "How am I supposed to know? I'm not the future-seeing psycho in the family. You had better start talking, cuz," she drawled the word, throwing it back at the smug looking doll, "Right. About. Now."

No sooner those words left her mouth, a 'giant moron' lunged out of the bushes, all claws and teeth and bristling russet fur. Edward would have recognized that particular moron anywhere. It was none other than Jacob, moron indeed.

"Aww… A puppy! Woof woof!" Alice crooned, not a hint of sarcasm in her honey-coated voice.

Jacob growled his response, gearing back, ready to pounce. He snarled, ostentatiously displaying his dagger-like canines, every lycanthrope's pride and glory.

As his little brother allowed yet another vicious bark Edward's ideal Fey specimen stepped forward, gun in hand, except hers was unlike any he'd ever laid his eyes upon. It was sleek and black, a perfect match for its owner. They made a deadly pair, macine and Fey.

"Back away, Wolfie. You don't want to play with me."

Ah… The warrior in him basked in sheer excitement. Edward's eyes appraised his deadly enemy with new-found hunger, starving for the thrill of not just a simple fight, but a challenging one; and the thrill of other things, indecent other things that questioned his sanity.

Jacob snapped now, clearly annoyed.

"Back away."

Jacob advanced, warily, Edward noticed, as he leaned back fully against the tree trunk, bracing his weight to take the strain off his muscles. He was going to sit back, relax and enjoy the show. He had the best seat in the house, his branch at the top of the tree had a bird's eye view of the drama, and best of all, neither party was aware of his presence, giving him a complete advantage. He'd be a fool to let an opportunity like this to slip by. And Edward Anthony Masen Black(Oh the horror) was no fool.

"Freeze," Bella warned, her mere voice had him as horny as he had been centuries ago when he was no more than unskilled adolescent, how very embarrassing– and strangely nice, "I know that's clichéd, but heck I don't care. You better think twice, Wolfie, 'cause I'm so ready to bust someone's ass right now, and you're lucky if it's not you."

His mutt of a brother grunted in frustration, oh what fun! Edward chuckled. The poor boy was all ready to mouth off, but in his current state, doggy sounds were likely the best snide remarks he could come up with, and they weren't exactly the desired clever repartee.

Edward tuned in to his little brother's thoughts, preparing for the amusement that was sure to come his way, and half hoping to catch a glimpse of Bella's face. But he didn't want his first look to be marred by the haze of thoughts, he wanted it to be perfect, to see her as who she was.

Damn. If she– Hmm. So Bella was all woman after all– calls me 'Wolfie' one more time. T swear I'll… Edward grinned at that particular train of thought, trailing off into a string of garbled threats. But he didn't approve of what 'Wolfie' had in stored for the Fey, should it come to that. Not in the least. Bella was his, he frowned at the possessive edge those words had taken. Queer, he thought, but quickly dismissed it, for the little act playing out before him was drawing close to its climax.

Jacob pounced. Alice screamed. Bella pulled the trigger. A shot rang in the air; his cue, Edward smiled sardonically, as he slipped down from his perch with the stealthy ease of all undead…

And landed in a pool of fresh red blood.

"Goddammit! The friggin' bitch shot me!"

Bella glared at the tanned, muscled teenager, fifteen give or take a few years. The boy should be in high school, not running around on all fours playing cat and mouse… Dog and mouse? Whatever. The point was Wolfie shouldn't even be here.

"Erm… Bells? A little help?"

Keeping the injured lycanthrope in her peripheral vision, she turned to Alice, whose voice came as an alarmed squeak, rather than its usual indifferent cooing. "What is– Take your paws off my pal."

The leopard hissed; eyes openly hostile.

"Aww… Hell… Give a girl a break, willya?" She whipped out her second firearm, both hands steady as they trained each weapon on an enemy, wolf (now currently a boy struggling into his boxers) and leopard.

Almost as if it had a mind of its own, her hood –which did its best veiling her face and hopeless plainness– fell to her shoulders, leaving a cool breeze to fan her flat lifeless hair. A cool breeze that teased her senses, tasted thick, cloying, richer than chocolate and was oh… Much, much better than air. A cool breeze that came in slow deliberate breaths.

Bella withdrew her gun at the still dressing boy, jamming its barrel behind her and meeting a hard, male body, 'hard' as in 'granite hard' or 'marble hard' not quite exactly the usual 'muscled hard'. Her instincts kicked into gear. Turning, she dodged a hand to face her opponent, placing her back to the wolf, decidedly less of a threat, although she was no more comfortable doing so.

"Hmmm…" Enemy Number Three muttered, his emerald irises intent as they carefully appraised her. He was fully clothed and beyond gorgeous, unlike a particular lycanthrope now grunting while fumbling with his belt. My Great-Eyes-Great-Body-Great-Everything stared, and Bella stared back, sub-consciously noting the guy's finer points. Brood shoulders, long tough arms sporting good hands with slim straight fingers –they were capable hands, a pianist's hands– nice flat washboard stomach, narrow hips, and legs that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles… Wasn't he a fine package? Fine didn't cover it, heck, calling a body like that fine was practically an insult!

Her gaze drifted upwards to his face, and she sucked in a breath. W-ow. If those perfect abs of his weren't enough to have any girl fall at his feet and worship the very ground he stood on, his face definitely did the job. Large eyes, that were as beautiful as they were frightening, glittering a deep green and hard as stones. Gemstones. His features were all angles and planes, from the broad span of his forehead, well-defined cheekbones, sharp aristocratic nose, to the strong line of his jaw. His mouth was sensuous, a sculptor's delight, and seeming the only aspect of his Bachelor-of-the-Year beauty that was actually less harsh; bottom lip almost tender, although his top was thin and cruel. He looked good, in a bad way, in a really bad way.

"I would have imagined you less… boyish."

Figured, she met the world's sexiest male specimen, and his first words to her had to be close to an insult. Bella raised her chin in defiance, "Excuse me?"

"That's 'cause she did a little DIY plastic surgery. It's a fae thing, don't sweat it," Alice, the traitor, piped up helpfully, "They sorta rearrange their faces and… Tadaa! Just like that. It'd work to her advantage if she wanted it to. What a waste of talent."

Hot-and-Mysterious regarded her with interest, "Indeed."

"Again. Excuse me?"

"If you'd be so kind as to reveal your true nature, I'd be most grateful. It's simply good manners. You don't see me hiding behind a mask now, do you?"

"Uh-huh. But if good manners mean ambushing unsuspecting innocents, sneaking up behind their backs, and holding their friends hostage, then no thank you. You can forget about me being all meek and mild and well… mannered," she spat it out as if it was a curse, "I'd rather be rude, I'd rather be nasty, I'd rather be…"

"You have a bit of a temper."

"And you have bad manners. Oops," she widened her eyes, all nice and bambi-like, "I mean you have fantastic manners."

"Fair enough, " he raised a hand, and the leopard retreated, like with a snap of his fingers and it was done, totally bizarre, yet cool, "Would that earn me your good manners? Oh dear lord, I meant, your nasty manners."

"No way, pal. I'd bet that spotted thing's lurking behind in the shadows somewhere and ready to pounce on Alice at the snap of your fingers. The minute –no, the second– you have what you want; you're gonna sic him on Alice, like your personal pet leopard! Ha! Got that right, didn't I? I can see it on your face, you sneak! Yup, Sneaky's your middle name–"

"Well, actually it's Anthony."

"–And you can take whatever sneaky trick up your sleeve all the way to hell with ya!"

His eyebrows rose, and his lips twitched; he wore no expression at all, but somehow still managed to look amused. It instantly got her back up. Did he find anything of their current situation funny? That jerk.

"Is there something particularly amusing here?"

"You."

She nearly choked, "What?"

"You. Talking to you is a most fascinating experience. And infinitely refreshing after all the boredom I was subjected to for the past months."

The teenager positively growled. Bella snorted, but made a vague gesture with her gun, just to remind him it was there, "Well, I can't say this conversation's been a ball, but… Thank you?"

"You're most welcome."

"Wait. Was that as insult?"

He shrugged.

"You are the most irritating, annoying creep I've ever met in my entire life. You know that? And you're one to talk about good manners. You, Oh Well-Mannered One, did not start with the conventional and boring 'Nice to meet you, my name is Bloody Asshole', you decided to introduce yourself by breathing down my neck!"

"Ah… Although, erm, 'Bloody Asshole' has a certain, uh, ring to it, I feel obliged to correct you, for my name is Edward Anthony Masen… Black. I am most pleased to be of acquaintance. And you are?"

"Hah! As if I'm going to tell you anything!"

"Isabella Marie Swan. Bella. It's a very pretty name."

She preened, hey, a girl liked some compliments, even if she was a stubborn gun-wielding Fae, "Thank– say what?"

Edward tapped his temple, "Mind reader."

"You can read minds."

"Yes."

"You can read my mind."

"Hmm…" That stumped him for a moment, "Well, no," Then– almost as if he could read her mind– continued, "But I can read hers." Edward punctuated his sentence with a brief gesture in Alice's general direction.

"Oh."

"Come. We are in need of your presence."

"I don't think so, El Sneako. And jeez… What am I? A dog? Come. Sit. Stay. Give your doggie commands to wolf boy over there, but don't try them out on me, I'm not some pet you can put a leash on."

"Pity," he muttered under his breath, his voice so smooth she wouldn't have thought it capable of sarcasm, "Shall I escort you to a more comfortable venue then?"

"Puh-leez. You think I'm dumb enough to believe that? Right."

"Right."

"Right?"

"I was simply being polite and agreeing with you."

"Well, you weren't supposed to, numbnuts."

"I see," the sneak sighed theatrically, "It seems our societies' etiquette lessons differ a great deal."

"No kidding."

Edward unleashed the full potential of his terrifying eyes on her, and Bella swore its effect was immediate, she could have melted at his perfect feet. "Then," he continued smoothly, "Let me speak in terms I m confident transcends our social differences–"

A troupe of giant pussy cats (and dogs) descended upon them at the snap of his fingers, that lying, despicable–

"–You will come with me, or I will take every single one of your people, and I will draw their deaths in the slowest, most torturous methods deemed vampirely possible."

–unreliable, cocky… "Bloody Asshole."

"I am not a patient man, Miss Bella."

"Bloody Asshole."

"Either way, you will come with me, at the expense of your companions, or otherwise. And although you may think of me as a heartless monster, I do not prefer the latter, so if you'd be so kind as to make your choice?"

"Your friends? They are going to die," Bella spat angrily, her tone every bit as derisive as she could will it to be, "These bullets? They're hollow points, filled with witch magic, otherwise known as poison. So right now, right this moment, as we're wasting our precious time, standing around looking like complete idiots (that would exclude us Fae) wolf boy, along with all the other friggin' morons I shot at– and I never miss a shot, is withering away and turning to ashes. They'd be nothing before any of them can lay a paw on my friends."

At that, the nicely tanned skin of the smug teenager paled, an unhealthy sallow undertone colored beneath his healthy shade of golden brown, turning him slightly green. The poor thing. He was so very young, and unlike Edward the Asshole, he probably didn't mean much harm. Bella glared at her bronze-haired opponent, who met her eyes unfazed… Undisturbed. His voice was muted and steady, just as his gaze was.

"Are you willing to test that theory?"

And for a moment, her firm resolve wavered. Bella instantly strengthened her will once more, coldly staring back at those beautiful emerald irises, which in turn, turned her bones to jelly. How very dangerous Edward Masen was! Bella paused, the name repeating itself in her head, like daunting echoes in a hallowed cave. Edward Anthony Masen, son of Edward Masen Senior and Elizabeth Masen. Great soldier. Very, very, skilled. And a vampire. Oh, fuck.

Their entire conversation played out before her, Bella had never felt this slow. Her wit was one of the best things about her, yet she too had failed to see the striking resemblance between father and son, or spot the obvious hints scattered within his turn-of-the-century talking. Heck. He formally introduced himself, and she, the clueless sheep she was, missed that too. Rage was a red haze that blocked almost everything out.

"Hold that line. Back up, slick. Can you rewind back to 'My name is…'? There must be something in my ear or something… I completely spaced out, so can you run that by me again?"

"Certainly. Edward Anthony Masen," here, he appeared to be choking on something, although she had no idea whatever it was a vampire could choke on, "Ah… Bl– Bla– Black. Edward Anthony Masen Black. Pleased to be of acquaintance."

"Edward Anthony Masen… Black?"

"My mother remarried."

Suddenly, all that coughing made sense, now that she was in a similar situation. Returning her guns to their respective holsters, she turned to face Alice, choking too hard to care if someone took her from behind. "Alice," Bella croaked, her throat ridiculously dry, "Please tell me there's something in my ear. It's really funny, 'cause I think Mr Edward's son just told me that Mr Edward's wife just remarried."

END CHAPTER

Thanks a bunch for reading, Chapter 3 might take a month, 'cause it's really long, I've written it out, but it'll take me hell to type everything out, let's cross our fingers and hope that my fingers survive after all this extended typing. Review if you please!